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Live in Infamy

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OK I'm going to call the vote here so that I can ruminate over some developments. The primary winning option is Avarice, with Satisfaction and Wrath coming in as close runners up (and thus getting a lesser but still present billing).

Fun fact I originally intended this vote to be a dramatic "which of the Seven Deadly Sins grips your heart in this moment" and then I wrote the end of the update at close to midnight and forgot to actually... well, offer seven different vote options. So there's a lesson in that one for you.
Scheduled vote count started by Maugan Ra on Mar 26, 2024 at 6:47 PM, finished with 33 posts and 32 votes.
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XV - A Mission of War
  • Threadmarks
    • Avarice won with 16 votes, while Satisfaction and Wrath came in close behind.

    You look at this display, this assembled tribute to your master's power and resources, and in your heart of hearts find nothing but want. You want this, all of this. You want the power, the authority, the knowledge to summon up a horde of devils and light your halls with hellfire. The things you could do with such power boggles the mind - every slight you let pass unmarked, every enemy you conceded beyond your reach, every ambition you thought impractical… it could all be yours!

    Truly, you are glad that you signed that contract. You have had your doubts over the past weeks and months, known moments of pain and despair where it all seemed pointless or unworthy, but for even the chance at power like this you would do it all over again a hundred times or more.

    The Cardinal raises his hand, and in the span of a breath the cheers cease and silence falls. He looks over you all with a fond smile, then nods.

    "The sharpest blade must be put only to the worthiest of tasks," he says, his voice rich and sonorous in a way you are no longer sure is entirely human, "And so to you I entrust this task. You shall bring war to Talingarde."

    Your breath stills, and without conscious thought you find yourself leaning closer. War? You had thought to begin your service with some manner of assassination or smuggling, but it seems you underestimated the Cardinal's ambition.

    "In the north, beyond Talingarde's borders, the warlord Sakkarot Fire-Axe has forged a great host equal to any the realm has yet seen," Thorn continues, visibly enjoying the way you all listen so very intently to his words, "As winter loosens its grip upon the land, he calls them to a rally point on the shores of Lake Tarkin, just a few days march north of the Accarian Line, there to receive a shipment of supplies and weapons. This shipment, you will deliver to him."

    "The Accarian line?" Mikael murmurs quietly at your side, too low for any save your other comrades to hear.

    "The fortresses to the north," Lisara replies just as softly, "What men now call the watch wall. King Accarius IV built it, hence the older name."

    You nod slowly. On paper, Talingarde's northern border is demarcated by the shores of Lakes Tarik and Scardynn and the great rivers that connect them, but it is the dozen fortresses of the Watch Wall that turns written law into practical fact. Each castle sits athwart a major crossing point or navigable route between Talingarde and the northern wilds, ever watchful for bugbear raids or orcish incursions. Only the oldest texts still refer to the fortifications by the name of the Barcan king who built them, though you suppose an Asmodean cardinal might have more reason than most to be pedantic about names and titles.

    "Sakkarot? I do not know this name," Dorgo grunts, folding his arms and scratching at his jaw, "He has truly united the tribes?"

    "Many of them, at least in part, while others watch to see if he can live up to his promises," Thorn concedes, still smiling, "Which is where you come in. After you have delivered the shipment, you will be taken back south, there to infiltrate the town of Aldencross and the watch fortress Balentyne. The shipment contains weapons and munitions enough for Sakkarot to arm his forces and breach the castle wall, but even with such aid Balentyne remains no easy target. It will be your job to weaken the garrison and its defences enough that Sakkarot can win a convincing victory, and thus begin his campaign with all necessary momentum."

    For a moment you think to ask why such a vital task is being left to you, why Thorn himself does not simply call upon dark miracles to shatter the castle and all its warriors, but then you think through the implications.

    "He is not intended to win, is he?" you say, almost before the thoughts are shaped, "Sakkarot, the northern tribes. You want them to lose their war."

    At your side, Dorgo tenses, as well he ought. These are his people you are speaking of now, and defeat in war is rarely kind, much less one born of a conflict as severe as this one promises to be.

    "Very perceptive, Valka," Thorn smiles approvingly at you, "Sakkarot has been a loyal servant and will be rewarded appropriately, but my intention is to save Talingarde, not destroy it. To that end, it is imperative that none within Aldencross or the castle witness your treachery and live. Sakkarot's victory must appear to all eyes to belong to him, and him alone."

    You nod thoughtfully. It makes sense, especially if Thorn intends to reintroduce the Cult of Asmodeus to the country at large in the aftermath. It will be a lot harder to gain acceptance if one is known to have been behind the war that recently ravaged the nation, and while Thorn likely could still make it work, he would need to take steps to distance himself from such a tainted reputation. Seeing as your team would make for ideal scapegoats in such a circumstance, you could hardly ask for greater motivation.

    "You intend to humiliate them," Lisara notes thoughtfully, almost reluctantly, "The Darians. If they can't turn back the horde, if they can't save the kingdom, then the people will look to those who can. No matter who they are, or what gods they serve."

    "Just so," Thorn nods again, visibly delighted, "You have learned your lessons well. Yes, by the time we are done the House of Darius will be disgraced, and a more palatable candidate hailed for all to see."

    Dorgo relaxes slowly, doubtless working through the same logic as you are. Sakkarot might lose the war, but Thorn spoke of rewarding him appropriately - perhaps a negotiated settlement could see him return to the north in triumph, there to unite it under the pentacle's banner? Two kingdoms sworn to the Lord of Hell would be a powerful prize indeed.

    "What of the Cult of Mitra?" Mikael asks pensively, "They won't back an usurper, especially not one open to devil worship, and you can't rule without them. They've made sure of that."

    "Ah, now we stray beyond the bounds of what is safe or proper for even my sharpest blades to know," Thorn says, still smiling even as his eyes harden in warning, "The Cult of Mitra, and all of the King's supporters, will be handled appropriately. Focus on your task, and trust that the rest will be attended to."

    Mikael swallows, ducking his head, and after a moment the rest of you do likewise. Adrastus Thorn may be pleased with your insight and proud of your progress, but he is still your master. He commands, and you obey.

    -/-

    The Frosthamar is not a Talirean ship. Long and lean, it sits far more shallowly in the water than those few vessels you are familiar with, and though human the crew are ruddy of skin and blond of hair in a way you've never yet seen. Currently they are loading the last of several dozen sealed crates onto the ship while you wait nearby. The Seventh, Elise Zadaria's team, are already aboard - apparently they are to be dropped off en route, before you cross the border, there to attend to their own tasks in aid of the overall mission.

    "You know, I keep looking, and I keep not seeing cabins," Lisara remarks dourly, studying the ship and crew with a critic's eye, "Are we truly to sleep under the stars like a bunch of savages?"

    "Hah!" Dorgo chuckles, shaking his head, "Would be good for you, I think. But no, look closer - those are tents. They put up shelter each night, I think."

    Nearby, Grumblejack the ogre makes a vaguely discontent sound. He has been assigned to your team for the mission, from what Thorn said offhand, and is already looking at the coming oceanic voyage with some dread.

    "Eyes up," Mikael says quietly, straightening up from where he was slouching against the wall, "The master comes."

    Cardinal Thorn is indeed approaching, a sour expression on his bearded face, while beyond him you can see the blond-haired captain returning to his people with an obvious grin. There is nothing good to be gained from remarking on such a contrast, and so you simply wait in silence for the Cardinal to master himself and speak.

    "There has been a change of plans," Thorn says in a deceptively mild tone, "The Seventh will accompany you to Sakkarot's camp and part ways at Aldencross. Once the Frosthamar has served her purpose, you are to kill the crew and burn the ship to the waterline."

    Despite your attempt at discipline, you find your eyebrows rising to the sky. Mikael and Dorgo look pensive at the order, but Lisara just chuckles.

    "Let me guess - he extorted you," the elf chuckles, daring a smile, "Ah, pirates. As stupid today as they were a century ago."

    "Indeed," Thorn sighs, shaking his head. "If I did not need a ship to transport the goods, or if Sakkarot could afford delays… ah, well. Make sure you reclaim the good captain's windfall from his corpse before you burn it. We'll call it a supplementary budget for your mission."

    There seems little else to say at that point, so you simply salute the infernalist and board the ship. Save for their captain, not one of the Frosthamar's crew speaks a word of Talirean, and most seem content to view you as more cargo to be transported and about as worthy of consideration. You sit in a small group near the back of the ship as it leaves the secluded cove where the cargo was loaded, the Seventh sit closer to the prow, and Grumblejack rests up against the central mast with a deeply unhappy look on his face.

    The stalemate lasts for most of the morning, but around noon one of the Seventh sighs and rises to his feet, stalking over to your group and brazenly taking a seat on an upturned barrel. It is one of the twins - a slender human with long black hair all done up in an elaborate tale, his grey eyes sparkling with hidden humour.

    "Well, I've had about all I can stand of this grim standoff, so I figured I'd break the ice!" he says brightly, whipping out a small pack of cards from somewhere inside his cloak and spinning them between his slender fingers, "I'm Trik, the broody git over there is my twin brother Trak, the tall fellow with the sword is Dostan, and of course you've all met our illustrious leader, the magnificent and incontestably beautiful Lady Elise Zadaria."

    He's speaking loudly enough for both groups to hear, and so you are not surprised to see his brother scoff or Elise roll her eyes at the display, but both of them are smiling as they do. You are smiling too, you realise - there's something almost infectious about the human's optimistic charm.

    "Well met, then, though you'll forgive us for skimping on the compliments," Lisara says dryly, "I'm Lisara, and these are Valka, Dorgo and Mikael."

    "And our wonderfully greedy and deeply stupid hosts are Captain Kargeld and his grim marauders," Trik completes with a cheeky grin, and despite your brief flash of alarm none of the pirates give any sign that they recognised the words, "So, shall we start simple? How about… hometowns? Lady Valka, you seem a respectable sort. Where did you call home before you fell in with this collection of villains and ne'er do wells?"

    Your smile fades slightly at the question, amusement dampened by sudden melancholy… but no, it is a fair question, and if you cannot hope to see your family again safe before this war is done, you have every reason to think that day will come sooner or later. So why not speak, and set down your cares for a time?

    Article:
    As a bookkeeper and aspiring wizard, Valka made her home in one of Talingarde's great metropolitan hubs. Which one does she call home?

    [ ] Mathryn, City of Light
    The capital city plays home to both the Royal Palace and the Church of Mitra. It is a city defined by its growth and ambition, having swollen from a small town to a thriving city in less than a century. Your family are architects and shipwrights, profiting handsomely from the city's relentless expansion.

    [ ] Ghastenhall, City on the Scar
    The old capital and most centrally located of the three cities, Ghastenhall is a proud and ancient place, home to the best of the nation's universities and the oldest of its noble estates. Your family are merchants and bankers, profiting from the city's central location and ancient wealth.

    [ ] Daveryn, City of Waves
    Always the second city, now demoted to third, Daveryn dismisses its provincial cousins and looks to the world beyond. The dockyards here send ships to lands few Talireans can even name, and the foreign quarter plays host to a myriad of tiny populations. Your family are artisans and metalworkers, producing quality goods for sale at home and abroad.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • [X] Ghastenhall, City on the Scar
    The old capital and most centrally located of the three cities, Ghastenhall is a proud and ancient place, home to the best of the nation's universities and the oldest of its noble estates. Your family are merchants and bankers, profiting from the city's central location and ancient wealth.

    Feels like where a Wizard with a lot of care for history would come from.
     
    [X] Ghastenhall, City on the Scar

    A good city. An honest city. A city you can trust.

    Ghastenhall: We're none of that, but we're really old.
     
    [X] Mathryn, City of Light
    The capital city plays home to both the Royal Palace and the Church of Mitra. It is a city defined by its growth and ambition, having swollen from a small town to a thriving city in less than a century. Your family are architects and shipwrights, profiting handsomely from the city's relentless expansion.

    Shipbuilding is very cool.
     
    [X] Ghastenhall, City on the Scar

    The plan was it takes a necromancer to ressurect a culture. Old cities do have a lot of stuff to literally and metaphorically bring back from the dead.
     
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