A Quest about solving multiversal shenanigans because a cute Moth-Person asked you to.
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Second Chance | An Original Fantasy Quest
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Prologue & Character Generation
Gabbie
That One Writer
- Location
- Italy
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Existential forces pulled on you.
Your body ached painfully, as you felt the condensed, manifested strength of will of the universe doing its best to rip you apart. Your limbs felt close to snapping away from their sockets, torn away from your body when finally, your feet firmly touched the ground. A shiver ran through you, as a wave of sudden relief settled in your heart.
"Don't move!" a voice shouted hastily, and you complied.
A circle of light appeared around you, floating gently around your waist. In the blink of an eye, its sides extended upwards and downwards, and you were surrounded by a pillar of blinding light that became translucent mere instants later. It hummed out a low sound, seemingly too low for your human ears to be able to hear.
Once you were finally able to take a look at the source of the voice, you saw a… moth person. It wasn't clear whether it was a man, woman, both, or neither, but their iridescent eyes and rainbow, fluttery wings made it clear enough that its gender wasn't a thing you were supposed to worry about.
"Fascinating," the moth-person said, their eyes fluttering, their many hexagonal sectors shrinking and enlarging to regale you with the deepest look you've ever been given.
"Where am I? And who are you?"
"Oh, a curious one!" the moth-person sing-sang, clapping their oddly human hands together. "Most people either scream at me, fall unconscious, or die as soon as the procedure is done. We can both count ourselves lucky!"
You keep looking at the moth-person, impassively.
"Alright, fine. You're in a... world between worlds which isn't quite a world," the moth-person answered after a moment of watching. Their wings twitched a few times as they turned around, fiddling with something on the nearby table. "Exactly how you wouldn't call the airspace around an airport the airport itself."
"Absolutely not confusing," you reply, totally devoid of sarcasm and irony.
"And you may refer to me as the Moth," the Moth said. "I made this plane after I was cut off from the other one. Now, why don't you tell me about you, instead? Who are you?"
[ ] Krilas, the Elven Mutt - "I will not let any of you down, be it the last thing I ever do on this godsforsaken world."
Krilas was a native of Obei-Rok, the hallowed forest-nation of the very religious elves, bastard son of an elven noblewoman and a soldier from Arthrion. Cast out by his mother but not by his half-kin of Obei-Rok, Krilas has enjoyed a relatively quiet life during his youth. He took an interest in the bow and arrow, drawn to them like bugs to an oil lamp, quickly accumulating such skill and reputation that he became renowned in his nation as 'Swiftscream.'
Once the Great War of the Undead begun, the enemy armies led by none other than Lich-Emperor Zidhas himself, he was forced to choose between desertion and enlistment, and so he left his nation, heading for Arthrion where he could find his father and start a life there. Unfortunately, his journey did not go far - he was found on the road by a group of Zidhas' troops, was outnumbered thirty to one, and got trapped into a fight.
The battle lasted for a long time, where Krilas grew more and more hopeless by the second. His arms became tired, and his arrows weren't as effective. He prayed to the spirits for one last burst of energy. He drew his last projectile and fired it in a dazzling supernova of colors, just as his eyes closed and he died because of his wounds.
Name: Krilas
Species: Half-Elf
Age: 77 (Early 30s, biologically - could live up to 300 years unassisted by magic)
Motivation: Finding remnants of the human side of his family
Attributes:
Special Ability: One Fateful Arrow - Once per story arc or major event, Krilas can draw an arrow in his bow and fire it. This arrow is ensured to be able to take down any enemy, barring truly exceptional foes and those with metaphysical elevation above this attack's.
Despite the limitation, it will still strike true and damage its target nonetheless: even a being the size of a mountain could be harmed in some way by the Fateful Arrow. Furthermore, any ordinary arrow Krilas shoots at an opponent will not miss barring exceptional circumstances.
After shooting the Fateful Arrow, Krilas receives a very brief burst of Speed and Agility equal to 100% of their value, which will decay over the duration of a single scene.
[ ] Tinilith, the Demon Barbarian - "My friend, you were the bravest heart I've ever known."
Contrary to his title, Tinilith is one of the few good people to be found on the Flaming Islands. Born to a human couple on the Flaming Islands during one of the dozen yearly planar convergences, Tinilith came out as a half-demon; commonly known as a tiefling. Despite his infernal ancestry, his parents loved him plenty and granted him the best of childhoods. He grew up on tales of the world, how big and beautiful it is, and his passion became that of travel.
Once he was old enough, he joined the Maritime League - a world-spanning organization that is filled with explorers, travelers, warriors, researchers; a true independent superpower - and began exploring the world. When the Great War of the Undead began, the Maritime League was asked for assistance and Tinilith was one of the first to show his face. With a greataxe in his hand, and a strong suit of armor on his back, the Maritime League took the fights to the undead that roamed the seas.
Unfortunately, during a battle, he lost control of his demonic powers, and killed himself along with his crewmates and enemies.
Name: Tinilith
Species: Tiefling (Demon-blooded)
Age: 23
Motivation: Stopping the war
Attributes:
Special Ability: Demonic Determination - Once per story arc or major event, Tinilith can tap into the full, unrestrained might of his infernal ancestor, entering a controlled rage. He becomes unkillable for the duration of the scene and receives a 800% boost to all his statistics, plus a 500% boost to his Willpower.
However, when the effect stops, Tinilith will fall into a torpor which will last at least a week, depending on the level of exertion or of injury sustained in the fight. Furthermore, by expending Willpower, Tinilith can stay in this state at the risk of losing control. Again.
[ ] Vaya, the Divine Vessel - "Please tell me, oh lord, why do you cry so?"
Firstborn daughter of the royal-blooded Ashtai, a noble family of Arthrion, part of the esteemed Order of the Nine - an ancient religious order that passes down the tradition and ancient knowledge of the Immortal Truths, in which each firstborn member is imbued with a fragment of one of the lost Deities.
Her life was one of luxury and quiet, where she learned the arts of diplomacy, music and theater, history, and magic up until her sixteenth birthday.
On that day, she began hearing voices - distraught, sad, flavored by tears. Desperate, Vaya ran to her adoptive uncle, Baron Jofheil, to ask for advice. Their conversation led to one conclusion: the voices she was hearing belonged to none other than Varir, God of Life and Magic… the Tenth Immortal Truth, distraught over the deaths of his brethren.
This revelation gave Vaya new purpose: to restore Varir's cult, search for knowledge about him and spread his word, to eventually find a way to make the God cease his eternal lament once and for all, so that he may return to the world and save everyone from the Great War of the Undead.
Unfortunately, she was found and killed by an unknown assailant on the night of what should've been her departure. As she drew her last breath, she heard his attacker speaking.
"If he were to stop crying, all would be quiet."
Name: Vaya Ashtai
Species: Human
Age: 19
Motivation: Finding Varir and stopping his cries
Attributes:
Special Ability: To Call Upon The Divine - Once per story arc or major event, Vaya can send a magically-loaded prayer to Varir, her 'patron,' and he will be prompted to answer. This can be anything from a call for help, an answer to a question, or some knowledge lost to time:
[ ] Gin, the Shapeshifting Bard - 'I haven't eaten in days, my feet are covered in blisters, and I'm probably going to pass out soon. But hey, I've got my flute.'
Ever since a very early age, Gin was a very lonely person. In his youthful years, he tended to stay on his lonesome, trying not to make any connections, never staying in the same place for too long. Abandoned by his parents when he was very young, Gin had to take care of himself right away; his method was to become proficient in the cultured arts of music and theater.
This led him to make a name for himself in all of the various inns in Gutkir - the Orc nation - but mostly its capital, Streginia. Little by little, his reputation grew, and more and more people caught wind of his cheery songs and beautiful poems and stories. The supply couldn't meet the demand, though, whether that demand be music, poetry, or… something else.
He was never paid more than what was enough to eat, and so he was forced to fall back to less-than-desirable methods of making a living. Using his innate abilities as a shapeshifter, he resorted to prostution, espionage, theft, bribery, and so on.
Discontent, however, with the trend of his life, he decided to leave everything behind and officially become a Bard at the Academy for Bards, which was in the Dragon Mountains.
Unfortunately, the world did not turn out to be as beautiful as he thought. His past came to bite him in his rear-end, and so he was beaten to a pulp by the henchmen of a crime lord he'd stolen from and left to die in a forest, where a troll feasted on his remains.
Name: Gin
Species: Changeling (Can shapeshift; clothes do not shift as well)
Age: 22
Motivation: Leaving his old life behind to make a new one
Attributes: All his values marked with a tilde (~) are moderately variable!
Special Ability: Copycat - Once per story arc or major event, Gin can focus on a person he met before and touched at least once, allowing his innate shapeshifting skills to take over both his body and his mind, for a limited time, while also retaining his full mental faculties.
Once this ability is used, Gin becomes the chosen person under any possible type of analysis - he will receive a copy of their memories which will not influence Gin's mind, a perfect copy of their soul with all the magic that comes with it, and his statistics will rise to meet theirs.
If the chosen person has lower stats than Gin, their stats will be added to Gin's own. The stat-difference between Gin and a chosen person can't be higher than one hundred (100), at which point the stat-boost will stop there.
The transformation acts as a second life of sorts - Gin will revert to his old form by dying, be it willingly or unwillingly. Any progress made in statistics will be lost unless otherwise specified, so using this ability to train past Gin's weight-class will not work!
[ ] Nemo, the Nobody - 'I have been drifting, alone, for so long. Thank you for finding me.'
Nemo is one of the Fateless. Unseen by all, unnoticed by the universe, unwanted, unheard, unexisting. Deprived of a destiny by the actions of an ancient sorcerer, Nemo has been wandering like a ghost across the continents of Asterius in search of a cure for his condition.
However, he wasn't always like this. In his youth, he was a retired knight of the Kingdom of the Sands, who had become a prolific writer during his retirement, telling the tales of his companions and of their quests.
One day, though, something happened, and no one could remember him anymore - people stopped recognising him, his name faded from his books, his magic stopped working…
But he endured. His determination was too great for him to fade away into oblivion, along with his whole identity. With a pen in hand and a journal in the other, Nemo set out on a long journey that would take him across the entire world, through all the nations, unseen.
How did he die? I… I don't remember. I- Oh, right.
He did find out there were others like him. Many thousands of people in his condition, who could see and remember each other, but… unmotivated to do so. Depressed, sad, with barely any will to live - magically-animated husks of skin, flesh and bones that kept walking for some reason.
That's when he encountered them. The Wraiths.
Nemo's encounter lasted barely enough for him to remember what transpired, but it all boiled down to someone being able to notice him, and not in a positive light.
Name: Nemo?
Species: Human?
Age: 1000+?
Motivation: Being seen
Attributes:
Special Ability: Black Hole - A passive ability. Wherever Nemo goes, emptiness and cold follow. As far as the universe is concerned, Nemo does not exist - that means he can ignore magic in its entirety; go through barriers, step through wards unimpeded, resist mind control or telepathy, and so on. On top of that, every magical instance is drained of its mana the longer it is exposed to Nemo, starting at a malus of 15%. This effect does not boost Nemo in any way, as far as you're (or he's) aware.
WARNING: Picking this option will change the Quest radically and will unlock Hard Mode. Do not pick this unless you particularly enjoy being not alive.
"Well, hello you! Pleased to meet you."
"Why am I here?" you asked, with your arms folded.
A tone of seriousness descended upon the Moth. "I am in need of some assistance," the Moth said, turning back towards you.
The whole room disappeared, and everything went black around you. The only two things remaining were you and the Moth. The scenery changed yet again, and little dots and stars appeared in the black void - looking down, you see a planet, colorful and vibrant, with a massive cloud of black at its northern pole.
"I am sure you're familiar with this world," the cosmic entity before you said, gesturing to the world.
"Yes. Asterius," you respond.
"There's a bit of an issue with it. A bit of a big problem."
A gesture from the Moth changed your vision, and the planet went from vibrant, to a deep, cerulean blue that was pleasant to the eyes. You look deep into the blue sphere, and as you do, you notice tendril-like cracks of blackened gold emerging from its core, branching out and reaching all the way into the cosmos.
"Do you know what that is?" the Moth asked.
"I do not."
The Moth nodded and gestured again, restoring the former scenery of the colorfully vibrant planet. "That was the most fundamental structure of existence, which is Fate. Call it how you want; destiny, fate, doom, it's fine - its actual name, if we can say that, is the Grand Scheme. The only issue, as you may have seen, is that it's fractured. Broken. And the point of origin is Asterius."
"If it's so fundamental, how did it break?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "It's like saying that the planet's pull broke."
"That's what I've been trying to figure out for all eternity," the Moth said, drawing a concerned look from you. "The issue with whatever this is is that it's paracausal. I distinctly remember Fate not being broken in the beginning of time - but now it always has been. Whatever happened retroactively changed time and Fate itself."
"Hm," you hum acknowledgingly. "You mentioned being cut-off, earlier. What do you mean?"
The Moth nodded. "Whatever happened cut a significant part of my influence away from this plane of existence. Do not misunderstand - I am not merely a god, or a great spirit. I am the oldest entity to ever exist, second only to Fate itself. The Fracture - a name I gave this phenomena - has managed to cut me off from this existential cluster almost completely."
You nod, looking at the planet down below. "And how am I relevant in all of this?"
"I cast a magical net between the liminal space between life and afterlife. You got caught."
"Weren't you cut off?" you asked.
"Almost completely," the Moth said, the cheerful air returning to them for a brief moment. "Something like resurrection is still trivial to me. The power I've lost is millions of orders of magnitude above matters of life and death."
"I still don't understand how I can be of help."
"Well, I want you to find out what happened and, if you can, fix it."
You sighed. "How?"
"Well, I'll provide you with some tools to make your life easier. Let's see…"
Choose your difficulty:
[ ] Easy Mode - The Quest as it was envisioned by one who is more generous than the QM.
*Rolls will be slightly altered: the QM will re-roll every failed check once.
*Conflict is rare unless sought.
*Risk of death is very low.
*Planning and strategizing are barely necessary.
*Power-scaling is pretty much absent.
*Foes will be easy to deal with in any circumstances, barring those considerable 'bosses.'
*The option for those who want a happy-go-lucky, hero-saves-the-day-with-no-problem Quest.
[ ] Normal Mode - The Quest as it was envisioned by the QM.
*Rolls will not be altered in any way.
*Conflict is probable but not inevitable.
*Risk of death is reasonable and directly proportional to the players' recklessness.
*Planning and strategizing are not an absolute must, but moderately advised.
*Power-scaling on par with your average run-of-the-mill Quest.
*Foes will be reasonably strong and their strength will make sense in most cases.
*The option for average Questers.
[ ] Hard Mode - The Quest as it was envisioned by someone more like Rihaku.
*The difficulty of every roll will be significantly higher.
*Conflict can be avoided with great effort, but is mostly inevitable.
*Risk of death is high, but it can be avoided with intelligence.
*Planning and strategizing are absolutely necessary if you want to thrive.
*Power-scaling will be exceptional.
*Foes will be stronger, faster, smarter, better.
*High risk, high reward option.
*Amplifies every Blessing slightly.
*The option for Rihaku-players-tier Questers.
"Your chances are looking pretty decent. It won't be easy, but it's up to you if it'll be hard," the Moth said, giving you a pat on the shoulder.
You frowned, looking at the Moth. "What stops me from dying like I died last time?"
"Well, that's where I come in!"
Choose your character's Blessing - all of them come with an associated drawback! You may choose only one.
[ ] One More Chance - For those that enjoy taking risks.
*Once you die, the fabric of space-time will be wound back to one week before your death.
*Retain a portion of the progress made in that week and all of your memories.
*This Blessing can be triggered willingly, at any moment of the Quest, by suicide.
*Works only once, but uses can be restored with enough Fate Coins (Arete/Ambrosia.)
*Drawback: Some entities will notice this happening and will want to investigate.
[ ] Sword of Honor - A powerful weapon for a powerful warrior.
*A true Artifact of legend, master-crafted by the gods themselves, tempered in the fires of battle.
*Unlocks the 'Swordsmaster' perk when wielded, which adds +50% to Agility and Strength.
*The sword is bound to your soul - it cannot be given away, stolen or otherwise lost. Gain access to a pocket dimension to store the sword in.
*Unlock the ability to learn and create special techniques to use with your sword.
*Drawback: This sword belongs to somebody, and they will come looking for it.
[ ] Twice Blessed, Twice Strained - When training isn't enough, train twice.
*When training, count time as passing twice. One hour is two hours, a week is two weeks.
*When fighting multiple opponents, count them as half their number.
*You will find better loot and artifacts when purposefully looking for them.
*Your allies will be stronger, although the process is gradual rather than instant.
*Drawback: You will get tired twice as fast, although this is not impossible to mitigate.
[ ] Impenetrable Aegis - A defense to be envied by the strongest of heroes.
*As long as you are standing still, none but the most devastating of blows can hurt you.
*When the Aegis is up, your reaction times will fall as low as nigh-instantaneous.
*The shield can be extended around you up to five meters, sacrificing the barrier's integrity.
*People inside the shield benefit from the buff to reflexes while being able to move.
*Drawback: Once the shield is disabled, it cannot be activated for thirty seconds.
[ ] Mighty Sailor - Never face problems such as 'distance' ever again.
*Obtain the Golden Dragon, an enchanted vessel that can travel by air and under the sea at great speeds. Go around the entire world in three days of travel (in this world, Mach 2).
*It has dimensionally-extended insides, which are equal to a large warehouse-worth of space.
*Its dragonscale hull grants it incredible resistance to physical and magical attack.
*The only weapons currently available to you are dragonfire cannons.
*Drawback: Be branded as a 'pirate.' This brand can be removed by good deeds.
[ ] Sanguine Pact - Through strength, I draw blood, through blood, gain victory.
*Whenever an enemy attempts to utilize magic whose primary purpose is not damage, you can choose to jam it.
*When being jammed, the enemy caster will experience increasing levels of pain the more they try to go against it.
*The range is determined by the Strength statistic, starting at a minimum of ten meters, increasing by one for every ten points.
*Unlocks the Rage statistic. Every ten points will grant unique perks.
*Drawback: The character has an uncontrollable lust for blood which is directly proportional to the Rage statistic.
[ ] Aural Section - In a long forgotten universe, gold dominated all that there was.
*Gain divine eyes of gold, which change the user to achieve perfection in every action.
*Count as an intermediate practitioner of every skill there is - very minor omnicompetence.
*If wounded, you will slowly but absolutely regenerate, not only in body but also in mind.
*Without training or doing anything, you will accumulate special XP. This experience can be used to upgrade any statistic or skill past its usual limits.
*Drawback: Slowly but surely, you will go blind. But fret not: sight is not as necessary as you think.
[ ] Once and Future - In the hour of need, the King has returned to rule.
*Gain an orichalchum crown inlaid with sapphires. This relic marks you as the true ruler.
*Unlock the Nobility statistic. Every ten points of Nobility unlocks a kingdom-wide ability.
*While wearing the crown, the Nobility stat is added to every other statistic.
*Nobility cannot be increased by training, only by improving your Kingdom.
*Drawback: You will gain an overwhelming urge to form and fairly lead a kingdom, that you and you alone can rule - every other form of government that is not absolute will be impossible for you to accept.
"Alright, that's dealt with," the Moth said, clasping their hands together.
"Now what?"
"You choose a spot and work on your landing strategy!"
"Landing what-"
[ ] The Kingdom of Arthrion - The largest civilized conglomerate of humans on Asterius. It is a large nation, diverse in culture and architecture, beautiful and well-structured, strict and to the point. It is ruled by the violently expansionist Queen Rosa, who will stop at nothing to take over the continent, which houses Dwarves and Elves alike, who aren't happy with Rosa's foreign policies. It has the largest military, hosts the best magical researchers.
[ ] Obei-Rok - Land of the Elves, immortal creatures of spirit, in touch with nature.It is a nation covered in forest-cities, where Pure and Impure Elves live together in harmony with themselves and nature. They are somewhat anarchic, not submitting to any government, except the Greater Spirits of Nature, which are the entities that birth them and make sure they are all happy. Despite that, there is a Council of Elves which presides over the 'earthly' matters of Obei-Rok, such as politics, war, and economics.
[ ] Dragon Mountains - Birthplace and housing of the proud dragon-riding, technologically-innovative dwarves. Obsessed with innovation, money and alcohol, Dragon Mountains is the place to go if you like technology and getting drunk, or both at the same time. It is an entire nation, completely entombed into great underground cities carved into stone. Beware, for these mountains are the prime nesting grounds of dragons, who the dwarves tame on a regular basis.
[ ] Reign of the Sands - A human tribe which has colonized the deserts west of Gutkir and created its own nation. Filled to the brim with savage warriors and elemental mages, the Reign is ruled by the Rainmaker Circle, a group of eight Water Mages who create water for their subjects. The nation is largely a beautiful desert, roamed by all sorts of creatures. What makes it internationally relevant are the innumerable mines filled with precious metals, magical ores and priceless jewels.
[ ] Gutkir - Despite its violent history, Gutkir has grown into a respectable country and its straight-laced democratic politics are envied all across the globe. Its military, while not that large, is among the strongest, with the best equipment and training. However, conspiracies brew beneath the surface, and diviners say the nation might once again explode in a ferocious civil war. Any miniscule misstep could throw Gutkir in a conflict unlike it has seen before.
[ ] The Great Wastelands - The epicenter of the great Calamity that shook the foundations of reality and irreparably ruptured the fabric of magic. It is deprived of life, aside from very basic fauna and flora. Despite its apparent lack of life, the undergrounds of this continent are littered with tunnels, which are inhabited by all manners of people and creatures. It is populated by the world's largest civilization of Freeform Mages - unstable, insane practitioners of the strongest magic on Asterius.
"I bid you good luck and goodbye, my friend. I hope you can solve our problem; if you do, you will be rewarded handsomely."
"I hope so. Where should I start in my search?" you asked.
"The Woods."
"Those woods?"
"Yes."
"Godsdamn it."
Welcome to this Quest! It's my newest and most serious attempt at making a Quest. It is inspired by @Rihaku 's quests and @Birdsie 's, who I thank for the inspiration (and Birdsie for his guidance: if I know how to write it's thanks to him.)
This is my original setting, so I look forward to seeing your feedback, advice and criticism.
Despite posting it now, I will be closing the vote after the holidays.
The Fate Coins that have been mentioned will be calculated by amount of discussion - since I don't expect much discussion, every 1000 words of discussion will be roughly equal to 0.5 Fate Coins, which will increase by quality of discussion/fanwork.
Let Second Chance begin!
VOTE BY PLAN!
Your body ached painfully, as you felt the condensed, manifested strength of will of the universe doing its best to rip you apart. Your limbs felt close to snapping away from their sockets, torn away from your body when finally, your feet firmly touched the ground. A shiver ran through you, as a wave of sudden relief settled in your heart.
"Don't move!" a voice shouted hastily, and you complied.
A circle of light appeared around you, floating gently around your waist. In the blink of an eye, its sides extended upwards and downwards, and you were surrounded by a pillar of blinding light that became translucent mere instants later. It hummed out a low sound, seemingly too low for your human ears to be able to hear.
Once you were finally able to take a look at the source of the voice, you saw a… moth person. It wasn't clear whether it was a man, woman, both, or neither, but their iridescent eyes and rainbow, fluttery wings made it clear enough that its gender wasn't a thing you were supposed to worry about.
"Fascinating," the moth-person said, their eyes fluttering, their many hexagonal sectors shrinking and enlarging to regale you with the deepest look you've ever been given.
"Where am I? And who are you?"
"Oh, a curious one!" the moth-person sing-sang, clapping their oddly human hands together. "Most people either scream at me, fall unconscious, or die as soon as the procedure is done. We can both count ourselves lucky!"
You keep looking at the moth-person, impassively.
"Alright, fine. You're in a... world between worlds which isn't quite a world," the moth-person answered after a moment of watching. Their wings twitched a few times as they turned around, fiddling with something on the nearby table. "Exactly how you wouldn't call the airspace around an airport the airport itself."
"Absolutely not confusing," you reply, totally devoid of sarcasm and irony.
"And you may refer to me as the Moth," the Moth said. "I made this plane after I was cut off from the other one. Now, why don't you tell me about you, instead? Who are you?"
***
[ ] Krilas, the Elven Mutt - "I will not let any of you down, be it the last thing I ever do on this godsforsaken world."
Krilas was a native of Obei-Rok, the hallowed forest-nation of the very religious elves, bastard son of an elven noblewoman and a soldier from Arthrion. Cast out by his mother but not by his half-kin of Obei-Rok, Krilas has enjoyed a relatively quiet life during his youth. He took an interest in the bow and arrow, drawn to them like bugs to an oil lamp, quickly accumulating such skill and reputation that he became renowned in his nation as 'Swiftscream.'
Once the Great War of the Undead begun, the enemy armies led by none other than Lich-Emperor Zidhas himself, he was forced to choose between desertion and enlistment, and so he left his nation, heading for Arthrion where he could find his father and start a life there. Unfortunately, his journey did not go far - he was found on the road by a group of Zidhas' troops, was outnumbered thirty to one, and got trapped into a fight.
The battle lasted for a long time, where Krilas grew more and more hopeless by the second. His arms became tired, and his arrows weren't as effective. He prayed to the spirits for one last burst of energy. He drew his last projectile and fired it in a dazzling supernova of colors, just as his eyes closed and he died because of his wounds.
Name: Krilas
Species: Half-Elf
Age: 77 (Early 30s, biologically - could live up to 300 years unassisted by magic)
Motivation: Finding remnants of the human side of his family
Attributes:
- Strength: 17
- Agility: 121
- Speed: 106
- Intelligence: 43
- Magic: 21
Special Ability: One Fateful Arrow - Once per story arc or major event, Krilas can draw an arrow in his bow and fire it. This arrow is ensured to be able to take down any enemy, barring truly exceptional foes and those with metaphysical elevation above this attack's.
Despite the limitation, it will still strike true and damage its target nonetheless: even a being the size of a mountain could be harmed in some way by the Fateful Arrow. Furthermore, any ordinary arrow Krilas shoots at an opponent will not miss barring exceptional circumstances.
After shooting the Fateful Arrow, Krilas receives a very brief burst of Speed and Agility equal to 100% of their value, which will decay over the duration of a single scene.
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[ ] Tinilith, the Demon Barbarian - "My friend, you were the bravest heart I've ever known."
Contrary to his title, Tinilith is one of the few good people to be found on the Flaming Islands. Born to a human couple on the Flaming Islands during one of the dozen yearly planar convergences, Tinilith came out as a half-demon; commonly known as a tiefling. Despite his infernal ancestry, his parents loved him plenty and granted him the best of childhoods. He grew up on tales of the world, how big and beautiful it is, and his passion became that of travel.
Once he was old enough, he joined the Maritime League - a world-spanning organization that is filled with explorers, travelers, warriors, researchers; a true independent superpower - and began exploring the world. When the Great War of the Undead began, the Maritime League was asked for assistance and Tinilith was one of the first to show his face. With a greataxe in his hand, and a strong suit of armor on his back, the Maritime League took the fights to the undead that roamed the seas.
Unfortunately, during a battle, he lost control of his demonic powers, and killed himself along with his crewmates and enemies.
Name: Tinilith
Species: Tiefling (Demon-blooded)
Age: 23
Motivation: Stopping the war
Attributes:
- Strength: 123
- Agility: 34
- Speed: 35
- Intelligence: 33
- Magic: 67 (Reinforcement, the art of imbuing objects with the power of the arcane | Infernal Wildness, the art of letting go of restraint to tap into the hellish power of your blood to achieve a random effect)
Special Ability: Demonic Determination - Once per story arc or major event, Tinilith can tap into the full, unrestrained might of his infernal ancestor, entering a controlled rage. He becomes unkillable for the duration of the scene and receives a 800% boost to all his statistics, plus a 500% boost to his Willpower.
However, when the effect stops, Tinilith will fall into a torpor which will last at least a week, depending on the level of exertion or of injury sustained in the fight. Furthermore, by expending Willpower, Tinilith can stay in this state at the risk of losing control. Again.
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[ ] Vaya, the Divine Vessel - "Please tell me, oh lord, why do you cry so?"
Firstborn daughter of the royal-blooded Ashtai, a noble family of Arthrion, part of the esteemed Order of the Nine - an ancient religious order that passes down the tradition and ancient knowledge of the Immortal Truths, in which each firstborn member is imbued with a fragment of one of the lost Deities.
Her life was one of luxury and quiet, where she learned the arts of diplomacy, music and theater, history, and magic up until her sixteenth birthday.
On that day, she began hearing voices - distraught, sad, flavored by tears. Desperate, Vaya ran to her adoptive uncle, Baron Jofheil, to ask for advice. Their conversation led to one conclusion: the voices she was hearing belonged to none other than Varir, God of Life and Magic… the Tenth Immortal Truth, distraught over the deaths of his brethren.
This revelation gave Vaya new purpose: to restore Varir's cult, search for knowledge about him and spread his word, to eventually find a way to make the God cease his eternal lament once and for all, so that he may return to the world and save everyone from the Great War of the Undead.
Unfortunately, she was found and killed by an unknown assailant on the night of what should've been her departure. As she drew her last breath, she heard his attacker speaking.
"If he were to stop crying, all would be quiet."
Name: Vaya Ashtai
Species: Human
Age: 19
Motivation: Finding Varir and stopping his cries
Attributes:
- Strength: 9
- Agility: 14
- Speed: 11
- Intelligence: 43
- Magic: 187 (No Rest For The Wicked, a magic system based all around light, divine magic, and smiting of the wretched undead, fiendish and infernal. More details if this option is picked.)
Special Ability: To Call Upon The Divine - Once per story arc or major event, Vaya can send a magically-loaded prayer to Varir, her 'patron,' and he will be prompted to answer. This can be anything from a call for help, an answer to a question, or some knowledge lost to time:
- Divine Assistance: Permanently add +50% to a statistic of your choice, and add +100% (pre-increase) for the duration of a scene.
- Divine Insight: Ask any question and Varir will answer to the best of his ability.
- Divine Knowledge: Add one (1) random advanced spell to your spellbook, or receive initiation in a magic system of your choice - if unchosen, then Varir will decide. You have a 0.0002% chance to unlock a truly game-breaking spell/system.
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[ ] Gin, the Shapeshifting Bard - 'I haven't eaten in days, my feet are covered in blisters, and I'm probably going to pass out soon. But hey, I've got my flute.'
Ever since a very early age, Gin was a very lonely person. In his youthful years, he tended to stay on his lonesome, trying not to make any connections, never staying in the same place for too long. Abandoned by his parents when he was very young, Gin had to take care of himself right away; his method was to become proficient in the cultured arts of music and theater.
This led him to make a name for himself in all of the various inns in Gutkir - the Orc nation - but mostly its capital, Streginia. Little by little, his reputation grew, and more and more people caught wind of his cheery songs and beautiful poems and stories. The supply couldn't meet the demand, though, whether that demand be music, poetry, or… something else.
He was never paid more than what was enough to eat, and so he was forced to fall back to less-than-desirable methods of making a living. Using his innate abilities as a shapeshifter, he resorted to prostution, espionage, theft, bribery, and so on.
Discontent, however, with the trend of his life, he decided to leave everything behind and officially become a Bard at the Academy for Bards, which was in the Dragon Mountains.
Unfortunately, the world did not turn out to be as beautiful as he thought. His past came to bite him in his rear-end, and so he was beaten to a pulp by the henchmen of a crime lord he'd stolen from and left to die in a forest, where a troll feasted on his remains.
Name: Gin
Species: Changeling (Can shapeshift; clothes do not shift as well)
Age: 22
Motivation: Leaving his old life behind to make a new one
Attributes: All his values marked with a tilde (~) are moderately variable!
- Strength: 14~
- Agility: 17~
- Speed: 21~
- Intelligence: 109
- Magic: 44 (Illusion Magic, a very basic system that lets him create sounds and images. He's good enough to make them survive casual touch, but they collapse under a closer scrutiny.)
Special Ability: Copycat - Once per story arc or major event, Gin can focus on a person he met before and touched at least once, allowing his innate shapeshifting skills to take over both his body and his mind, for a limited time, while also retaining his full mental faculties.
Once this ability is used, Gin becomes the chosen person under any possible type of analysis - he will receive a copy of their memories which will not influence Gin's mind, a perfect copy of their soul with all the magic that comes with it, and his statistics will rise to meet theirs.
If the chosen person has lower stats than Gin, their stats will be added to Gin's own. The stat-difference between Gin and a chosen person can't be higher than one hundred (100), at which point the stat-boost will stop there.
The transformation acts as a second life of sorts - Gin will revert to his old form by dying, be it willingly or unwillingly. Any progress made in statistics will be lost unless otherwise specified, so using this ability to train past Gin's weight-class will not work!
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[ ] Nemo, the Nobody - 'I have been drifting, alone, for so long. Thank you for finding me.'
Nemo is one of the Fateless. Unseen by all, unnoticed by the universe, unwanted, unheard, unexisting. Deprived of a destiny by the actions of an ancient sorcerer, Nemo has been wandering like a ghost across the continents of Asterius in search of a cure for his condition.
However, he wasn't always like this. In his youth, he was a retired knight of the Kingdom of the Sands, who had become a prolific writer during his retirement, telling the tales of his companions and of their quests.
One day, though, something happened, and no one could remember him anymore - people stopped recognising him, his name faded from his books, his magic stopped working…
But he endured. His determination was too great for him to fade away into oblivion, along with his whole identity. With a pen in hand and a journal in the other, Nemo set out on a long journey that would take him across the entire world, through all the nations, unseen.
How did he die? I… I don't remember. I- Oh, right.
He did find out there were others like him. Many thousands of people in his condition, who could see and remember each other, but… unmotivated to do so. Depressed, sad, with barely any will to live - magically-animated husks of skin, flesh and bones that kept walking for some reason.
That's when he encountered them. The Wraiths.
Nemo's encounter lasted barely enough for him to remember what transpired, but it all boiled down to someone being able to notice him, and not in a positive light.
Name: Nemo?
Species: Human?
Age: 1000+?
Motivation: Being seen
Attributes:
- Strength: 7
- Agility: 12
- Speed: 9
- Intelligence: 51
- Magic: -INF, cannot learn or use magic until Fatelessness is resolved. Counts as soulless for any magical purposes.
Special Ability: Black Hole - A passive ability. Wherever Nemo goes, emptiness and cold follow. As far as the universe is concerned, Nemo does not exist - that means he can ignore magic in its entirety; go through barriers, step through wards unimpeded, resist mind control or telepathy, and so on. On top of that, every magical instance is drained of its mana the longer it is exposed to Nemo, starting at a malus of 15%. This effect does not boost Nemo in any way, as far as you're (or he's) aware.
WARNING: Picking this option will change the Quest radically and will unlock Hard Mode. Do not pick this unless you particularly enjoy being not alive.
***
"Well, hello you! Pleased to meet you."
"Why am I here?" you asked, with your arms folded.
A tone of seriousness descended upon the Moth. "I am in need of some assistance," the Moth said, turning back towards you.
The whole room disappeared, and everything went black around you. The only two things remaining were you and the Moth. The scenery changed yet again, and little dots and stars appeared in the black void - looking down, you see a planet, colorful and vibrant, with a massive cloud of black at its northern pole.
"I am sure you're familiar with this world," the cosmic entity before you said, gesturing to the world.
"Yes. Asterius," you respond.
"There's a bit of an issue with it. A bit of a big problem."
A gesture from the Moth changed your vision, and the planet went from vibrant, to a deep, cerulean blue that was pleasant to the eyes. You look deep into the blue sphere, and as you do, you notice tendril-like cracks of blackened gold emerging from its core, branching out and reaching all the way into the cosmos.
"Do you know what that is?" the Moth asked.
"I do not."
The Moth nodded and gestured again, restoring the former scenery of the colorfully vibrant planet. "That was the most fundamental structure of existence, which is Fate. Call it how you want; destiny, fate, doom, it's fine - its actual name, if we can say that, is the Grand Scheme. The only issue, as you may have seen, is that it's fractured. Broken. And the point of origin is Asterius."
"If it's so fundamental, how did it break?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "It's like saying that the planet's pull broke."
"That's what I've been trying to figure out for all eternity," the Moth said, drawing a concerned look from you. "The issue with whatever this is is that it's paracausal. I distinctly remember Fate not being broken in the beginning of time - but now it always has been. Whatever happened retroactively changed time and Fate itself."
"Hm," you hum acknowledgingly. "You mentioned being cut-off, earlier. What do you mean?"
The Moth nodded. "Whatever happened cut a significant part of my influence away from this plane of existence. Do not misunderstand - I am not merely a god, or a great spirit. I am the oldest entity to ever exist, second only to Fate itself. The Fracture - a name I gave this phenomena - has managed to cut me off from this existential cluster almost completely."
You nod, looking at the planet down below. "And how am I relevant in all of this?"
"I cast a magical net between the liminal space between life and afterlife. You got caught."
"Weren't you cut off?" you asked.
"Almost completely," the Moth said, the cheerful air returning to them for a brief moment. "Something like resurrection is still trivial to me. The power I've lost is millions of orders of magnitude above matters of life and death."
"I still don't understand how I can be of help."
"Well, I want you to find out what happened and, if you can, fix it."
You sighed. "How?"
"Well, I'll provide you with some tools to make your life easier. Let's see…"
***
Choose your difficulty:
[ ] Easy Mode - The Quest as it was envisioned by one who is more generous than the QM.
*Rolls will be slightly altered: the QM will re-roll every failed check once.
*Conflict is rare unless sought.
*Risk of death is very low.
*Planning and strategizing are barely necessary.
*Power-scaling is pretty much absent.
*Foes will be easy to deal with in any circumstances, barring those considerable 'bosses.'
*The option for those who want a happy-go-lucky, hero-saves-the-day-with-no-problem Quest.
[ ] Normal Mode - The Quest as it was envisioned by the QM.
*Rolls will not be altered in any way.
*Conflict is probable but not inevitable.
*Risk of death is reasonable and directly proportional to the players' recklessness.
*Planning and strategizing are not an absolute must, but moderately advised.
*Power-scaling on par with your average run-of-the-mill Quest.
*Foes will be reasonably strong and their strength will make sense in most cases.
*The option for average Questers.
[ ] Hard Mode - The Quest as it was envisioned by someone more like Rihaku.
*The difficulty of every roll will be significantly higher.
*Conflict can be avoided with great effort, but is mostly inevitable.
*Risk of death is high, but it can be avoided with intelligence.
*Planning and strategizing are absolutely necessary if you want to thrive.
*Power-scaling will be exceptional.
*Foes will be stronger, faster, smarter, better.
*High risk, high reward option.
*Amplifies every Blessing slightly.
*The option for Rihaku-players-tier Questers.
***
"Your chances are looking pretty decent. It won't be easy, but it's up to you if it'll be hard," the Moth said, giving you a pat on the shoulder.
You frowned, looking at the Moth. "What stops me from dying like I died last time?"
"Well, that's where I come in!"
***
Choose your character's Blessing - all of them come with an associated drawback! You may choose only one.
[ ] One More Chance - For those that enjoy taking risks.
*Once you die, the fabric of space-time will be wound back to one week before your death.
*Retain a portion of the progress made in that week and all of your memories.
*This Blessing can be triggered willingly, at any moment of the Quest, by suicide.
*Works only once, but uses can be restored with enough Fate Coins (Arete/Ambrosia.)
*Drawback: Some entities will notice this happening and will want to investigate.
[ ] Sword of Honor - A powerful weapon for a powerful warrior.
*A true Artifact of legend, master-crafted by the gods themselves, tempered in the fires of battle.
*Unlocks the 'Swordsmaster' perk when wielded, which adds +50% to Agility and Strength.
*The sword is bound to your soul - it cannot be given away, stolen or otherwise lost. Gain access to a pocket dimension to store the sword in.
*Unlock the ability to learn and create special techniques to use with your sword.
*Drawback: This sword belongs to somebody, and they will come looking for it.
[ ] Twice Blessed, Twice Strained - When training isn't enough, train twice.
*When training, count time as passing twice. One hour is two hours, a week is two weeks.
*When fighting multiple opponents, count them as half their number.
*You will find better loot and artifacts when purposefully looking for them.
*Your allies will be stronger, although the process is gradual rather than instant.
*Drawback: You will get tired twice as fast, although this is not impossible to mitigate.
[ ] Impenetrable Aegis - A defense to be envied by the strongest of heroes.
*As long as you are standing still, none but the most devastating of blows can hurt you.
*When the Aegis is up, your reaction times will fall as low as nigh-instantaneous.
*The shield can be extended around you up to five meters, sacrificing the barrier's integrity.
*People inside the shield benefit from the buff to reflexes while being able to move.
*Drawback: Once the shield is disabled, it cannot be activated for thirty seconds.
[ ] Mighty Sailor - Never face problems such as 'distance' ever again.
*Obtain the Golden Dragon, an enchanted vessel that can travel by air and under the sea at great speeds. Go around the entire world in three days of travel (in this world, Mach 2).
*It has dimensionally-extended insides, which are equal to a large warehouse-worth of space.
*Its dragonscale hull grants it incredible resistance to physical and magical attack.
*The only weapons currently available to you are dragonfire cannons.
*Drawback: Be branded as a 'pirate.' This brand can be removed by good deeds.
[ ] Sanguine Pact - Through strength, I draw blood, through blood, gain victory.
*Whenever an enemy attempts to utilize magic whose primary purpose is not damage, you can choose to jam it.
*When being jammed, the enemy caster will experience increasing levels of pain the more they try to go against it.
*The range is determined by the Strength statistic, starting at a minimum of ten meters, increasing by one for every ten points.
*Unlocks the Rage statistic. Every ten points will grant unique perks.
*Drawback: The character has an uncontrollable lust for blood which is directly proportional to the Rage statistic.
[ ] Aural Section - In a long forgotten universe, gold dominated all that there was.
*Gain divine eyes of gold, which change the user to achieve perfection in every action.
*Count as an intermediate practitioner of every skill there is - very minor omnicompetence.
*If wounded, you will slowly but absolutely regenerate, not only in body but also in mind.
*Without training or doing anything, you will accumulate special XP. This experience can be used to upgrade any statistic or skill past its usual limits.
*Drawback: Slowly but surely, you will go blind. But fret not: sight is not as necessary as you think.
[ ] Once and Future - In the hour of need, the King has returned to rule.
*Gain an orichalchum crown inlaid with sapphires. This relic marks you as the true ruler.
*Unlock the Nobility statistic. Every ten points of Nobility unlocks a kingdom-wide ability.
*While wearing the crown, the Nobility stat is added to every other statistic.
*Nobility cannot be increased by training, only by improving your Kingdom.
*Drawback: You will gain an overwhelming urge to form and fairly lead a kingdom, that you and you alone can rule - every other form of government that is not absolute will be impossible for you to accept.
***
"Alright, that's dealt with," the Moth said, clasping their hands together.
"Now what?"
"You choose a spot and work on your landing strategy!"
"Landing what-"
***
[ ] The Kingdom of Arthrion - The largest civilized conglomerate of humans on Asterius. It is a large nation, diverse in culture and architecture, beautiful and well-structured, strict and to the point. It is ruled by the violently expansionist Queen Rosa, who will stop at nothing to take over the continent, which houses Dwarves and Elves alike, who aren't happy with Rosa's foreign policies. It has the largest military, hosts the best magical researchers.
[ ] Obei-Rok - Land of the Elves, immortal creatures of spirit, in touch with nature.It is a nation covered in forest-cities, where Pure and Impure Elves live together in harmony with themselves and nature. They are somewhat anarchic, not submitting to any government, except the Greater Spirits of Nature, which are the entities that birth them and make sure they are all happy. Despite that, there is a Council of Elves which presides over the 'earthly' matters of Obei-Rok, such as politics, war, and economics.
[ ] Dragon Mountains - Birthplace and housing of the proud dragon-riding, technologically-innovative dwarves. Obsessed with innovation, money and alcohol, Dragon Mountains is the place to go if you like technology and getting drunk, or both at the same time. It is an entire nation, completely entombed into great underground cities carved into stone. Beware, for these mountains are the prime nesting grounds of dragons, who the dwarves tame on a regular basis.
[ ] Reign of the Sands - A human tribe which has colonized the deserts west of Gutkir and created its own nation. Filled to the brim with savage warriors and elemental mages, the Reign is ruled by the Rainmaker Circle, a group of eight Water Mages who create water for their subjects. The nation is largely a beautiful desert, roamed by all sorts of creatures. What makes it internationally relevant are the innumerable mines filled with precious metals, magical ores and priceless jewels.
[ ] Gutkir - Despite its violent history, Gutkir has grown into a respectable country and its straight-laced democratic politics are envied all across the globe. Its military, while not that large, is among the strongest, with the best equipment and training. However, conspiracies brew beneath the surface, and diviners say the nation might once again explode in a ferocious civil war. Any miniscule misstep could throw Gutkir in a conflict unlike it has seen before.
[ ] The Great Wastelands - The epicenter of the great Calamity that shook the foundations of reality and irreparably ruptured the fabric of magic. It is deprived of life, aside from very basic fauna and flora. Despite its apparent lack of life, the undergrounds of this continent are littered with tunnels, which are inhabited by all manners of people and creatures. It is populated by the world's largest civilization of Freeform Mages - unstable, insane practitioners of the strongest magic on Asterius.
***
"I bid you good luck and goodbye, my friend. I hope you can solve our problem; if you do, you will be rewarded handsomely."
"I hope so. Where should I start in my search?" you asked.
"The Woods."
"Those woods?"
"Yes."
"Godsdamn it."
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Welcome to this Quest! It's my newest and most serious attempt at making a Quest. It is inspired by @Rihaku 's quests and @Birdsie 's, who I thank for the inspiration (and Birdsie for his guidance: if I know how to write it's thanks to him.)
This is my original setting, so I look forward to seeing your feedback, advice and criticism.
Despite posting it now, I will be closing the vote after the holidays.
The Fate Coins that have been mentioned will be calculated by amount of discussion - since I don't expect much discussion, every 1000 words of discussion will be roughly equal to 0.5 Fate Coins, which will increase by quality of discussion/fanwork.
Let Second Chance begin!
VOTE BY PLAN!
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Character Sheet & Other Info
Gabbie
That One Writer
- Location
- Italy
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Statistics
While the numbers themselves will be used for rolling and whatnot, when necessary, keep in mind that they are arbitrary and will not be mathematically exact. Each statistic scales somewhat differently, but they end up holding the same importance when it comes to flat power-level. A character with Strength 100 can be said to be approximately ten times stronger than a character with Strength 10, while the same cannot necessarily be said for Magic 100 against Magic 10. Each scaling will be explained in more detail in its own section.
There are various levels of experience that can 'categorize' the amount of power and ability shown in a certain skill, art or magic system. Different skills advance at different rates.
Character Sheet
Name: Vaya Ashtai
Species: Human
Age: 19
Backstory: Firstborn daughter of the royal-blooded Ashtai, a noble family of Arthrion, part of the esteemed Order of the Nine - an ancient religious order that passes down the tradition and ancient knowledge of the Immortal Truths, in which each firstborn member is imbued with a fragment of one of the lost Deities.
Her life was one of luxury and quiet, where she learned the arts of diplomacy, music and theater, history, and magic up until her sixteenth birthday.
On that day, she began hearing voices - distraught, sad, flavored by tears. Desperate, Vaya ran to her adoptive uncle, Baron Jofheil, to ask for advice. Their conversation led to one conclusion: the voices she was hearing belonged to none other than Varir, God of Life and Magic… the Tenth Immortal Truth, distraught over the deaths of his brethren.
This revelation gave Vaya new purpose: to restore Varir's cult, search for knowledge about him and spread his word, to eventually find a way to make the God cease his eternal lament once and for all, so that he may return to the world and save everyone from the Great War of the Undead.
Unfortunately, she was found and killed by an unknown assailant on the night of what should've been her departure. As she drew her last breath, she heard his attacker speaking. "If he were to stop crying, all would be quiet."
Attributes:
Special Ability: To Call Upon The Divine [1/1]- Once per story arc or major event, Vaya can send a magically-loaded prayer to Varir, her 'patron,' and he will be prompted to answer. This can be anything from a call for help, an answer to a question, or some knowledge lost to time:
While the numbers themselves will be used for rolling and whatnot, when necessary, keep in mind that they are arbitrary and will not be mathematically exact. Each statistic scales somewhat differently, but they end up holding the same importance when it comes to flat power-level. A character with Strength 100 can be said to be approximately ten times stronger than a character with Strength 10, while the same cannot necessarily be said for Magic 100 against Magic 10. Each scaling will be explained in more detail in its own section.
- STRENGTH: This stat regards feats of raw physical power, resistance and durability. The average Strength value for a humanoid ranges from 8 to 12. Someone with STR 40~ could be compared to an Olympian weightlifter, someone with STR 70~ could punch through concrete with maximum exertion, and someone with STR 150~ could tank a heavy warhammer to the head with only a tiny bruise.
- AGILITY: This stat regards feats of dexterity, balance, and stealth. The average Agility value for a humanoid ranges from 8 to 12. Someone with AGI 40~ could perform the feats of professional acrobats with little training, someone with AGI 70~ could climb walls like mountain goats like naturals, and someone with AGI 150~ could walk on a dragon's hide without waking it up while also balancing several books on their head.
- SPEED: This stat regards feats of pure speed, celerity and reaction times. The average Speed value for a humanoid ranges from 9 to 16. Someone with SPD 40~ could outrun the fastest Earth sprinters, someone with SPD 70~ could deflect a flurry of arrows out of the air, and someone with SPD 150~ could focus enough to watch a bullet zip by in apparent slow-motion.
- INTELLIGENCE: This stat regards feats of mental fortitude, smarts, willpower, and social skills. The average Intelligence value for a humanoid ranges from 7 to 16. Someone with INT 40~ could solve complex riddles and equations in little time, someone with INT 70~ could learn an ancient language in a day, and someone with INT 150~ could shrug off the psychic assault of a minor demon.
- MAGIC: This stat regards flat magical power, and as Magic is varied, the value isn't as accurate as the others. The average Magic value for a practitioner of magic ranges from 45 to 80. Generally, the higher the number, the stronger and more precise the effects of the spells are, as well as the experience of the caster. Skills in conceptual domains start at MAG 300~.
There are various levels of experience that can 'categorize' the amount of power and ability shown in a certain skill, art or magic system. Different skills advance at different rates.
- Novice: The lowest level, the start of every journey. A Novice swordsman is someone who has begun using a weapon mere weeks ago.
- Initiate: Somewhat capable in a chosen domain. An Initiate alchemist could brew weak healing potions with a moderately high chance of success.
- Proficient: Reliably good in a skill. Most soldiers in most average armies can be said to be Proficient with a sword or bow, and in the art of war.
- Experienced: Above and beyond the average. An Experienced survivalist could live in somewhat comfortable conditions in the middle of a rainforest.
- Advanced: To be good enough in an art to be considered impressive by most. An Advanced diplomat could sway the hardest of hearts to mercy.
- Veteran: Second nature at its finest. A Veteran martial artist could take on fifteen people and take them down in moments without breaking so much as a sweat.
- Master: The chosen domain has imbued itself in the spirit. A Master illusionist could fool the oldest of dragons into thinking they were crippled, in agony, and surrounded by their worst enemies.
Character Sheet
Name: Vaya Ashtai
Species: Human
Age: 19
Backstory: Firstborn daughter of the royal-blooded Ashtai, a noble family of Arthrion, part of the esteemed Order of the Nine - an ancient religious order that passes down the tradition and ancient knowledge of the Immortal Truths, in which each firstborn member is imbued with a fragment of one of the lost Deities.
Her life was one of luxury and quiet, where she learned the arts of diplomacy, music and theater, history, and magic up until her sixteenth birthday.
On that day, she began hearing voices - distraught, sad, flavored by tears. Desperate, Vaya ran to her adoptive uncle, Baron Jofheil, to ask for advice. Their conversation led to one conclusion: the voices she was hearing belonged to none other than Varir, God of Life and Magic… the Tenth Immortal Truth, distraught over the deaths of his brethren.
This revelation gave Vaya new purpose: to restore Varir's cult, search for knowledge about him and spread his word, to eventually find a way to make the God cease his eternal lament once and for all, so that he may return to the world and save everyone from the Great War of the Undead.
Unfortunately, she was found and killed by an unknown assailant on the night of what should've been her departure. As she drew her last breath, she heard his attacker speaking. "If he were to stop crying, all would be quiet."
Attributes:
- Strength: 19
- Agility: 24
- Speed: 21
- Intelligence: 63
- Magic: 212
- Jack Of All Trades (Experienced) - Energy blasts, telekinesis, magic perception, dispelling, so on. In nerdier terms, magic that can be categorized as Cantrips and Level 1-3 spells from D&D.
- No Rest For The Wicked (Veteran) - A magic system that draws its power from the divine. Smiting, healing, divination and exorcism are all within its domain.
- Noble Magic (Initiate) - See Once and Future.
- Nobility Level: 2
- Passive Abilities:
- True Ruler: Gain +15% Intelligence (Social) when attempting negotiation or diplomacy, and +10% PHYS (Strength, Speed, Agility) whenever in a battle to defend your domain. This perk will get stronger as your Nobility Level becomes higher.
- Steadfast: Whenever you act with a clear goal in mind, and your determination is unwavering, fate will very subtly bend circumstances to provide aid in your endeavors. On top of that, gain resistance to intimidation, manipulation and psychic attacks.
- Noble Magic: Your very magic is an extension of your royal will, and all that is under your domain is protected by your temporal power. A magic system highly specialized in nation-scale and long-distance effects; good at matters of protection and restoration, not so good at matters of creation or destruction. This magic system is directly tied to your Nobility and, as such, cannot be trained in any meaningful fashion.
- Active Abilities:
- Royal Presence: With a mere glance, impose your will and flare your nobility to those beneath you, as well as your nature as the one true monarch. Those with Intelligence dreadfully lower than the caster's will be submitted to the Ruler's will, while those with mildly lower or equal Intelligence will be compelled to respect their superior. Those with higher Intelligence are somewhat resistant to this effect, although a measure of 'awe factor' will remain. This is a semi-permanent effect, as once the Ruler is recognized as such, there is no going back.
Special Ability: To Call Upon The Divine [1/1]- Once per story arc or major event, Vaya can send a magically-loaded prayer to Varir, her 'patron,' and he will be prompted to answer. This can be anything from a call for help, an answer to a question, or some knowledge lost to time:
- Divine Assistance: Permanently add +50% to a statistic of your choice, and add +100% (pre-increase) for the duration of a scene.
- Divine Insight: Ask any question and Varir will answer to the best of his ability.
- Divine Knowledge: Add one (1) random advanced spell to your spellbook, or receive initiation in a magic system of your choice - if unchosen, then Varir will decide. You have a 0.0002% chance to unlock a truly game-breaking spell/system.
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Map of the Setting
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
A map of the setting, by the way. The Wastelands are to the northeast. In the middle is Gurz Ugadhol, which is the island of Zidhas and probably shouldn't be visited by anyone sane. All of it is also in Italian because Gabriel lacks foresight because Gabriel made it for an Italian audience.
Chapter 1: The Light After the Dark
Gabbie
That One Writer
- Location
- Italy
- Pronouns
- They/Them
The Moth nodded. "Very well. I think that will be all"
Vaya nodded as well, meekly, in response. "What should I do once I'm back?"
"Let Fate guide you, young one. You have more than one powerful entity on your side."
The girl smiled, clutching the necklace that was around her neck. "Thank you. I will not disappoint."
"I know you won't," the Moth said. "Now, go."
"Wait-"
A lurching sensation caught hold of Vaya's stomach, her entire body being pulled downwards at such speeds that it took her a few seconds to realize she was moving at all. There was nothing but black for a few minutes. Then, there was a flash.
Her vision swam through thousands of colors, so quickly that it made her head hurt, until they all merged into white, a white so bright it probably would've blinded a lesser being. It felt like she was being pulled on a string from every spot in her body, so hard she feared she might tear like a piece of paper.
At the same time, she almost felt limitlessly weightless, as if the forces that were pushing on her were protecting her at the same time, making sure she was as comfortable as possible during her interdimensional travels.
Then, there was a rip, and everything was black again. There was a tight sensation around her head, like a vice squeezing her temples to make them burst, but that release never came. It just got tighter, and tighter, hurting more and more, until…
Vaya breathed in the biggest breath she could manage, as sunlight stabbed into her eyes, making her squint her eyes and avert her gaze from the sky above. She grasped at herself and around her, feeling the familiar sensation of grass and dirt below her fingers.
"Oh Gods," she gasped, attempting to control her breathing for a few seconds. She sat up, with a hand moving to clutch her forehead. She flinched when her fingers brushed against a metallic object. She touched it a few times, before realizing it was her Crown.
The awareness of the object on her head made a feeling arise in her. It was like she was out of place, akin to a fish attempting to climb a tree. She knew what she needed to do, but also realized it wasn't possible in the current moment. So, she took off her crown and placed it in her leather satchel, close to her body.
There wasn't much she could do without knowing where she was. She'd only agreed on being put in Gutkir, one of the stablest regions on Asterius, but it was still quite a big nation and as far as her eyes could see, she was more or less stranded in the middle of nowhere.
The girl put a hand in front of her mouth, upraised, in single-handed prayer, and closed her eyes. Flashes of a pair of blue, weeping eyes appeared in her mind's eye, followed by several images of empty chairs at empty tables, and of a castle in the sky, and a birdnest with eggs smashed by a brick.
"May the hand of Humankind guide my path," Vaya uttered softly as she opened her eyes, allowing a trickle of her mana to enter her words. There was a hiccup in the air, as a small, cyan light appeared out of nowhere and zipped off in a seemingly random direction, which Vaya went towards.
The landscape around her was truly vibrant.
She'd never been to Gutkir, although she had learned much about it in school, but being here, right now, was like its own little reward which she cherished. The years she'd spent at the Academy were some of the best of her life, to the contrary of what her uncles and aunts had said - maybe it was because she was a big sucker for knowledge and thoroughly enjoyed the act of learning.
As far as the eye could see, there were green plains, little hills, fields of flowers and the eventual tree here and there. There were even some old-looking houses and huts, visibly abandoned and in ruin, but somewhat fitting and appropriate for the rural, cozy atmosphere this area gave off. Birds flew across the sky, and their songs and love calls filled the air.
It truly was beautiful.
"I really hope you can see this," Vaya muttered to herself, directing her gaze at the sky. There was no reply, of course. Her patron wasn't the talkative type in the slightest, only responding once in a blue moon to her calls - she could count their conversations on the fingers of a hand.
In spite of this, they did communicate often; even if he didn't reply verbally, Varir would often show Vaya images of all types whenever she prayed or cast her spells, some of which she couldn't recognise, and some she found familiar.
One recurring picture was that of a golden graveyard, accosted by snow and dust on some kind of building. Sometimes it was a castle, sometimes a mansion, but it was always a large, regal-looking building that reminded Vaya of her heritage.
What could it mean?
After some time spent walking in the wilderness, Vaya's stroll was interrupted by the distant, somewhat familiar sounds of battle. Her head swiveled in its direction, and her body kicked into overdrive as she ran towards the source.
Vaya climbed up the side of a hill with some effort, and looking to the other side from its low peak, she saw a group of armored orcs fighting with a group of hooded men on horseback, though the humans looked like they were losing quickly.
The girl put her hands together in prayer. She was not hoping for a response nor trying to get one, but praying this way helped her think.
What will Vaya do?
[ ] Intervene - Go down there and intervene in the battle in some fashion.
-[ ] Help the Orcs - This is their land, after all.
-[ ] Help the Humans - Kinship for your own species. Varir would probably approve.
-[ ] Stop the Fight - Go down there and intervene non-aggressively, trying to act as peacekeeper.
[ ] Watch and Learn - You don't know enough about the situation to intervene, and honestly, it's none of your business anyway.
[ ] Wear the Crown - This situation demands a strong presence.
-[ ] Use Ability
-[ ] Don't Use Ability
[ ] Don't Wear the Crown - Keep a low profile for now.
[ ] Call Upon the Divine [1/1] - This option is always available to you throughout the Quest until it is spent!
-[ ] Assistance
-[ ] Insight
-[ ] Knowledge
[ ] Write-In
Character Sheet (Also found on Page 1, Post 2 - will be updated semi-regularly!)
Vaya nodded as well, meekly, in response. "What should I do once I'm back?"
"Let Fate guide you, young one. You have more than one powerful entity on your side."
The girl smiled, clutching the necklace that was around her neck. "Thank you. I will not disappoint."
"I know you won't," the Moth said. "Now, go."
"Wait-"
A lurching sensation caught hold of Vaya's stomach, her entire body being pulled downwards at such speeds that it took her a few seconds to realize she was moving at all. There was nothing but black for a few minutes. Then, there was a flash.
Her vision swam through thousands of colors, so quickly that it made her head hurt, until they all merged into white, a white so bright it probably would've blinded a lesser being. It felt like she was being pulled on a string from every spot in her body, so hard she feared she might tear like a piece of paper.
At the same time, she almost felt limitlessly weightless, as if the forces that were pushing on her were protecting her at the same time, making sure she was as comfortable as possible during her interdimensional travels.
Then, there was a rip, and everything was black again. There was a tight sensation around her head, like a vice squeezing her temples to make them burst, but that release never came. It just got tighter, and tighter, hurting more and more, until…
Vaya breathed in the biggest breath she could manage, as sunlight stabbed into her eyes, making her squint her eyes and avert her gaze from the sky above. She grasped at herself and around her, feeling the familiar sensation of grass and dirt below her fingers.
"Oh Gods," she gasped, attempting to control her breathing for a few seconds. She sat up, with a hand moving to clutch her forehead. She flinched when her fingers brushed against a metallic object. She touched it a few times, before realizing it was her Crown.
The awareness of the object on her head made a feeling arise in her. It was like she was out of place, akin to a fish attempting to climb a tree. She knew what she needed to do, but also realized it wasn't possible in the current moment. So, she took off her crown and placed it in her leather satchel, close to her body.
There wasn't much she could do without knowing where she was. She'd only agreed on being put in Gutkir, one of the stablest regions on Asterius, but it was still quite a big nation and as far as her eyes could see, she was more or less stranded in the middle of nowhere.
The girl put a hand in front of her mouth, upraised, in single-handed prayer, and closed her eyes. Flashes of a pair of blue, weeping eyes appeared in her mind's eye, followed by several images of empty chairs at empty tables, and of a castle in the sky, and a birdnest with eggs smashed by a brick.
"May the hand of Humankind guide my path," Vaya uttered softly as she opened her eyes, allowing a trickle of her mana to enter her words. There was a hiccup in the air, as a small, cyan light appeared out of nowhere and zipped off in a seemingly random direction, which Vaya went towards.
The landscape around her was truly vibrant.
She'd never been to Gutkir, although she had learned much about it in school, but being here, right now, was like its own little reward which she cherished. The years she'd spent at the Academy were some of the best of her life, to the contrary of what her uncles and aunts had said - maybe it was because she was a big sucker for knowledge and thoroughly enjoyed the act of learning.
As far as the eye could see, there were green plains, little hills, fields of flowers and the eventual tree here and there. There were even some old-looking houses and huts, visibly abandoned and in ruin, but somewhat fitting and appropriate for the rural, cozy atmosphere this area gave off. Birds flew across the sky, and their songs and love calls filled the air.
It truly was beautiful.
"I really hope you can see this," Vaya muttered to herself, directing her gaze at the sky. There was no reply, of course. Her patron wasn't the talkative type in the slightest, only responding once in a blue moon to her calls - she could count their conversations on the fingers of a hand.
In spite of this, they did communicate often; even if he didn't reply verbally, Varir would often show Vaya images of all types whenever she prayed or cast her spells, some of which she couldn't recognise, and some she found familiar.
One recurring picture was that of a golden graveyard, accosted by snow and dust on some kind of building. Sometimes it was a castle, sometimes a mansion, but it was always a large, regal-looking building that reminded Vaya of her heritage.
What could it mean?
After some time spent walking in the wilderness, Vaya's stroll was interrupted by the distant, somewhat familiar sounds of battle. Her head swiveled in its direction, and her body kicked into overdrive as she ran towards the source.
Vaya climbed up the side of a hill with some effort, and looking to the other side from its low peak, she saw a group of armored orcs fighting with a group of hooded men on horseback, though the humans looked like they were losing quickly.
The girl put her hands together in prayer. She was not hoping for a response nor trying to get one, but praying this way helped her think.
***
What will Vaya do?
[ ] Intervene - Go down there and intervene in the battle in some fashion.
-[ ] Help the Orcs - This is their land, after all.
-[ ] Help the Humans - Kinship for your own species. Varir would probably approve.
-[ ] Stop the Fight - Go down there and intervene non-aggressively, trying to act as peacekeeper.
[ ] Watch and Learn - You don't know enough about the situation to intervene, and honestly, it's none of your business anyway.
[ ] Wear the Crown - This situation demands a strong presence.
-[ ] Use Ability
-[ ] Don't Use Ability
[ ] Don't Wear the Crown - Keep a low profile for now.
[ ] Call Upon the Divine [1/1] - This option is always available to you throughout the Quest until it is spent!
-[ ] Assistance
-[ ] Insight
-[ ] Knowledge
[ ] Write-In
Character Sheet (Also found on Page 1, Post 2 - will be updated semi-regularly!)
Character Sheet
Name: Vaya Ashtai
Species: Human
Age: 19
Backstory: Firstborn daughter of the royal-blooded Ashtai, a noble family of Arthrion, part of the esteemed Order of the Nine - an ancient religious order that passes down the tradition and ancient knowledge of the Immortal Truths, in which each firstborn member is imbued with a fragment of one of the lost Deities.
Her life was one of luxury and quiet, where she learned the arts of diplomacy, music and theater, history, and magic up until her sixteenth birthday.
On that day, she began hearing voices - distraught, sad, flavored by tears. Desperate, Vaya ran to her adoptive uncle, Baron Jofheil, to ask for advice. Their conversation led to one conclusion: the voices she was hearing belonged to none other than Varir, God of Life and Magic… the Tenth Immortal Truth, distraught over the deaths of his brethren.
This revelation gave Vaya new purpose: to restore Varir's cult, search for knowledge about him and spread his word, to eventually find a way to make the God cease his eternal lament once and for all, so that he may return to the world and save everyone from the Great War of the Undead.
Unfortunately, she was found and killed by an unknown assailant on the night of what should've been her departure. As she drew her last breath, she heard his attacker speaking. "If he were to stop crying, all would be quiet."
Attributes:
Special Ability: To Call Upon The Divine [1/1]- Once per story arc or major event, Vaya can send a magically-loaded prayer to Varir, her 'patron,' and he will be prompted to answer. This can be anything from a call for help, an answer to a question, or some knowledge lost to time:
Name: Vaya Ashtai
Species: Human
Age: 19
Backstory: Firstborn daughter of the royal-blooded Ashtai, a noble family of Arthrion, part of the esteemed Order of the Nine - an ancient religious order that passes down the tradition and ancient knowledge of the Immortal Truths, in which each firstborn member is imbued with a fragment of one of the lost Deities.
Her life was one of luxury and quiet, where she learned the arts of diplomacy, music and theater, history, and magic up until her sixteenth birthday.
On that day, she began hearing voices - distraught, sad, flavored by tears. Desperate, Vaya ran to her adoptive uncle, Baron Jofheil, to ask for advice. Their conversation led to one conclusion: the voices she was hearing belonged to none other than Varir, God of Life and Magic… the Tenth Immortal Truth, distraught over the deaths of his brethren.
This revelation gave Vaya new purpose: to restore Varir's cult, search for knowledge about him and spread his word, to eventually find a way to make the God cease his eternal lament once and for all, so that he may return to the world and save everyone from the Great War of the Undead.
Unfortunately, she was found and killed by an unknown assailant on the night of what should've been her departure. As she drew her last breath, she heard his attacker speaking. "If he were to stop crying, all would be quiet."
Attributes:
- Strength: 9
- Agility: 14
- Speed: 11
- Intelligence: 43
- Magic: 187
- Jack Of All Trades (Experienced) - Energy blasts, telekinesis, magic perception, dispelling, so on. Any general-scope magical effect can be achieved within reason.
- No Rest For The Wicked (Veteran) - A magic system that draws its power from the divine. Smiting, healing, divination and exorcism are all within its domain.
- Noble Magic (Initiate) - See Once and Future.
- Nobility Level: 1
- Passive Abilities:
- True Ruler: Gain +15% Intelligence (Social) when attempting negotiation or diplomacy, and +10% PHYS (Strength, Speed, Agility) whenever in a battle to defend your domain. This perk will get stronger as your Nobility Level becomes higher.
- Noble Magic: Your very magic is an extension of your royal will. All that is under your domain is protected by your temporal power. A magic system highly specialized in nation-scale and long-distance effects; good at matters of protection and restoration, not so good at matters of creation or destruction. This magic system is directly tied to your Nobility and, as such, cannot be trained.
- Active Abilities:
- Royal Presence: With a mere glance, impose your will and flare your nobility to those beneath you, as well as your nature as the one true monarch. Those with Intelligence dreadfully lower than the caster's will be submitted to the Ruler's will, while those with mildly lower or equal Intelligence will be compelled to respect their superior. This is a semi-permanent effect, as once the Ruler is recognized as such, there is no going back.
Special Ability: To Call Upon The Divine [1/1]- Once per story arc or major event, Vaya can send a magically-loaded prayer to Varir, her 'patron,' and he will be prompted to answer. This can be anything from a call for help, an answer to a question, or some knowledge lost to time:
- Divine Assistance: Permanently add +50% to a statistic of your choice, and add +100% (pre-increase) for the duration of a scene.
- Divine Insight: Ask any question and Varir will answer to the best of his ability.
- Divine Knowledge: Add one (1) random advanced spell to your spellbook, or receive initiation in a magic system of your choice - if unchosen, then Varir will decide. You have a 0.0002% chance to unlock a truly game-breaking spell/system.
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Discord for Updates and Discussion
Gabbie
That One Writer
- Location
- Italy
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Discord - Group Chat That’s All Fun & Games
Discord is great for playing games and chilling with friends, or even building a worldwide community. Customize your own space to talk, play, and hang out.
Say you are from here for the role.
On a different note: take a look at the character sheet post in an hour or so. Some important things will be added!
Chapter 2: The Queen Rises
Gabbie
That One Writer
- Location
- Italy
- Pronouns
- They/Them
"I can't let them kill each other."
Vaya breathed in to cool her nerves, and carefully slid down the hillside to reach closer to the two groups.
She'd never done something like this, and even though the power of the Crown was on her side, she feared she might mess something up nonetheless. Her adoptive uncle was always faithful in her skills and capabilities, but she always thought he was a bit biased - he was her teacher, after all.
A visit would be a good idea, sooner or later. After she figured out who killed her, maybe.
Shutting that train of thought and directing a silent prayer to Varir, she reached into her satchel and pulled out the Crown. Holding it in her hand caused a feeling of grandeur in her, a sensation of greater meaning that she'd never felt before.
Ignoring it, she put it on and allowed its energy to freely flow through her. Vaya flinched at the feeling, and at the subtle influence of the Crown, telling her to command and govern. Now wasn't the time for this.
Pushing back the nagging noise of the Crown, she jogged up to the group and stopped a few paces away from them, observing the fight for a few moments. The feeling around her head was heavy and somewhat painful, but she endured it.
The orcs clearly had the upper hand in this fight, even though the men were on horses and held visibly better weapons. The horse riders had been pushed back up against the edge of a hill that the horses couldn't run up.
"Thieves! Surrender or perish!" the biggest orc, donning a set of plate armor and an open-faced helmet shouted in rage, pointing his large, dark-green greatsword at them.
One of the horse riders valiantly shook his head, clutching his axe tighter, while the other men assembled behind him, defensively. "We were hungry!"
"You dare talk back to the Gutkirian Guard?" the orc - presumably this group's commander - exclaimed in a gruff, low voice, seemingly offended. "The entire village might go hungry! It's almost winter!"
"You dogs!" an orc in the backlines spat, his voice smoother than the commander's.
Vaya grimaced. This was worse than she thought, but these men… didn't look like thieves or criminals. She felt a knot of worry, the same way a king would worry for his subjects in dire times. This was the moment to step in; now or never.
Before one of the accused humans could respond or act in any way, Vaya walked forward and made her presence known
"Stop!" she shouted, making herself seen by waving her hands around.
Every head - and two loaded crossbows - swiveled in her direction. She felt tense, her fists clenching in the fear of those bolts flying in her direction, although she was fairly sure she could protect herself if it came down to it.
There were various reactions on the others' faces, most of which weren't positive. The soldiers were confused and somewhat annoyed all around, while the humans on the other side were somewhat relieved but scared to some degree.
"Who the fuck are you?" the crossbowman to the left of the group asked, snarling with anger.
"I'm Vaya Ashtai," she said, raising her hands slightly, to show she meant no harm.
Vaya's right eye twitched. She felt the Crown nudging her towards command - telling her to Leave me alone! I can't deal with you!
"I'm Vaya Ashtai, and I'm with the Maritime League," she lied. Pulling this card was dangerous and could get her in serious trouble if she failed, but they were probably too angry to think too much about it. "And so are these men."
The man who'd spoken earlier nodded. "Y-Yeah, she's our superior. What are you doing here?"
"I was looking for you," Vaya said gently, turning to the orcs' leader. "What exactly happened here?"
The commander frowned at Vaya, but slightly lowered his greatsword. "These men have been charged with grand theft and assault," he said gruffly.
"Grand… theft?" Vaya queried again, quirking an eyebrow. "I'm sure these men didn't mean to-"
"They ate our food!" another guard said, angrily - he was almost foaming, by the look of his face.
"We were saving up," the commander added, turning to Vaya with a scowl. "We had barely enough for everyone. And now, everyone will go hungry because of these human dogs!"
Vaya was left speechless, for a moment. She turned to the men on horses, who had climbed down from their mounts by now - they probably sensed that it was the right course of action, now that they had 'back-up.' One of them had a bleeding leg.
Was she in the right, by helping these men?
"We wouldn't have had to steal if you just sold us food!" one of the four men, the tallest one, exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the orcs. "We are refugees of the war, but you've done nothing but treat us like shit!"
"Haven't you earned it?!" the rough-voiced commander shouted at them, making them flinch and step back into the cliff face. He raised his greatsword again, threateningly, while one of his subordinates began spinning a lasso.
"Your kind treated us like savages for ages! Should I remind you what Arthrion calls us?"
"You're proving us right by doing this!" the youngest of the humans pleaded, holding his dagger close to his chest. "I beg you, we just want to leave…"
Vaya stepped forward, almost between the two groups. "Please, calm down, I'm sure we can-"
The commander's sword moved to point at Vaya, shutting her up immediately. With the meanest, coldest glare, he said, "I don't care who you are; you are impeding Gutkirian law, and if you don't step back, you will be charged and arrested as well."
The tall man she'd spoken to grimaced, looking down regretfully, as the orcs returned to watch them.
Vaya recoiled, stepping back to clutch her head. The Crown was getting stronger, its nagging more powerful and distracting. A pang of annoyance went through her mind, as she tried to push it back, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist.
The commander seemed to take it as confirmation she wouldn't be interfering, and shouted, "Get them at any cost!"
Crossbow bolts flew, lassoes were thrown, and the men used the horses as cover. The tallest one got hit by a bolt in the shoulder, falling to the ground with a grunt of pain, while the others moved to defend him, fighting back the guards that were moving for him.
She had to defend them, stop this fight, but how?
The Crown pulsed with purpose and meaning.
No! I am not ready…
Another pulse. Stronger, more determined.
Vaya let out a shaky breath, trying to ignore the sounds of swords clashing and men screaming. The Crown pulsed again, making her feel light and weightless for a moment, as well as heavy and disoriented.
She wasn't ready to command. She was so young, so inexperienced…
But the Crown seemed to deem her worthy.
I accept.
A burning sensation took place, deep in her chest, as if something was being etched into her very core with a scorching iron. She raised a hand to her chest and clutched it, gasping for breath as vertigo threatened to take complete control of her and make her fall over.
Every negative sensation faded from her body. Vaya opened her eyes with purpose, and pointed a finger at the fighting crowd. She felt a connection forming between her and the Crown - unbreakable, mighty, absolute.
A noble need pervaded her, rooted deep into her very soul. One that her very nature longed for, and desired. One that her spirit was made for. She closed her eyes.
Rule, because no one else can, because the world needs me to.
She opened her eyes again. They were glowing purple.
Rule, because I am the Queen.
"I command you to stop."
A pulse of golden power flew out of her and the Crown, pushing everyone back with an incredible pressure that threatened to send everyone off their feet. The singing birds instantly silenced, the fleeing critters stopped to ogle at her, and the fighting ceased almost instantly.
Everyone looked at her with the same expression. Deep regret, intense admiration, and stupefying awe. Two of the orcs and one of the men dropped to their knees from where they were standing, while the others just observed Vaya with the most respect anyone could push into a gaze.
Vaya relaxed, her eyes returning to their previous shade of green. A new sensation was present in her core, but she didn't shy away from it. It was part of her now, because she was the Queen and, as such, had to rule. It was her ancestral right to do so.
With a calming sigh, she turned to the commander of the guards and asked, gently, "I'd like you to tell me what happened exactly."
The commander nodded, immediately sheathing his sword, commanding the others to do the same. The guards backed away from the humans, and the young human ran up to his injured companion to tend to his wounds.
The leader of the guards bowed his head. "I'm sorry, milady. As we've said before, these men have been breaking into our granary for the past two weeks and, little by little, have eaten through a lot of our supplies of food for the winter."
Vaya nodded, turning to the men to her left. "And why did you do that? Couldn't you buy food?"
"Racial bias, ma'am," the injured man muttered, sitting up with some effort, the crossbow bolt still sticking out of his shoulder. "There are… tensions, between orcs and humans. We've tried, but almost no one accepted Arthrionite money."
Vaya nodded once more, turning to deliberate to herself. No one here was in the right - on one side, a group of biased orcs who almost killed five innocent men; on the other, five men who doomed an entire village to hunger because they couldn't or wouldn't pack up and go elsewhere, or hunt for food in the forest. What was she supposed to do in such a difficult situation?
Varir, guide me...
The rolls in this chapter have been mixed - Royal Presence would've been used either way, but the bad Negotiation rolls that took place allowed me to create a pretty cool scene, if I do say so myself. Almost all of them now recognise Vaya as The Ruler, which opens up a great deal of possibilities going forward.
As of right now, you have 1.5 Fate Coins due to discussion in the thread - most of the word-count can be awarded to @OctarineShrike and @Wolfy. So congrats to them, a big round of applause!
But what should a good Ruler-In-The-Making do? You may not pick more than one (1) main choice.
[ ] Justice for the Orcs - They are the wronged party, here, no matter the racial bias. The men have committed a crime on orcish land, while the orcs simply protected their interests.
-[ ] Bring Them to the Village - Arrest the men and bring them to the village, allowing the orcs to do justice by themselves. (+Relationship with these orcs, despite you being human.)
-[ ] Execute Them - You are the Ruler; you are judge, jury and executioner by virtue of being the one true Queen. Kill them on the spot. (+Nobility, will unlock the trait Ruthless Fist.)
[ ] Justice for the Men - These poor humans were just hungry refugees, and they did what they could to survive. Circumstances put them in a bad spot, and you'll take them out of it.
-[ ] Take them Away - Send the orcs on their way and take the humans under your wing, away from here and into safer territories. (+Arthrion, +++Varir.)
-[ ] Kill the Orcs - Declare these men as your subjects and kill the orcs in an act of defense; what Ruler would allow a foreign nation to harm their subjects without permission? (+Nobility, -Gutkir.)
[ ] Path of the Ruler - Both parties were wronged and deserve reparations, and it is your job as the Queen to make sure everyone is as happy as can be. On top of healing the injured parties, Vaya wil… (Pick up to two.)
-[ ] Enchant the Village's soil - Make sure their soil will produce food even during the winter through your magical powers.
-[ ] Create a Magical Barrier - A gift is never uncalled for. Give them further protections from wild animals and possible creatures that may want to attack. (+Village)
-[ ] Establish an Arthrionite Embassy - As a noble Arthrionite yourself and member of the Order of the Nine, you have some political power. Create the first Gutkirian embassy for humans in centuries. (++Arthrion, +Varir, ---???)
-[ ] Declare your Domain (Two Picks) - What is a Ruler, without territory? Utilize your Royal Presence on the whole village and establish your domain. (-----Gutkir, open conflict; ++++Nobility, unlocks two new Abilities)
[ ] Path of the Cleric - Your journey began with Varir, and it is only right that you keep honoring him in whatever way you can. He is your patron God and if you're here, it's thanks to your dedication to him. Leave the prior situation up to the Dice Gods in favor of pursuing this option. (Pick up to two - every option will give you +Varir unless specified.)
-[ ] Teach Magic to the village
-[ ] Heal their wounded
-[ ] Instruct their young in world history
-[ ] Induct the willing in Varir's Church
-[ ] Train some new Clerics
-[ ] Build a Church of Varir (Two picks, ++++Varir, ------???, will spend a few weeks here.)
[ ] Leave - This isn't worthy of your time. Leave both parties up to their devices and find your own way somewhere else. Write in where you want to go.
[ ] Varir Intervention (1/1) - Spends your use of the Special Ability in the specified way.
-[ ] Assistance - +50% to one stat, +100% to one stat for the duration of a scene.
-[ ] Insight - Ask any question, receive a divine answer.
-[ ] Knowledge - Unlock one Veteran-level spell, or become an Initiate in a random or chosen magic system. 0.0002% to hit the jackpot if random.
[ ] Write-In (Particularly interesting and original write-ins and discussion thereof, even if not voted for, will earn the thread additional Fate Coins!)
Vaya breathed in to cool her nerves, and carefully slid down the hillside to reach closer to the two groups.
She'd never done something like this, and even though the power of the Crown was on her side, she feared she might mess something up nonetheless. Her adoptive uncle was always faithful in her skills and capabilities, but she always thought he was a bit biased - he was her teacher, after all.
A visit would be a good idea, sooner or later. After she figured out who killed her, maybe.
Shutting that train of thought and directing a silent prayer to Varir, she reached into her satchel and pulled out the Crown. Holding it in her hand caused a feeling of grandeur in her, a sensation of greater meaning that she'd never felt before.
Ignoring it, she put it on and allowed its energy to freely flow through her. Vaya flinched at the feeling, and at the subtle influence of the Crown, telling her to command and govern. Now wasn't the time for this.
Pushing back the nagging noise of the Crown, she jogged up to the group and stopped a few paces away from them, observing the fight for a few moments. The feeling around her head was heavy and somewhat painful, but she endured it.
The orcs clearly had the upper hand in this fight, even though the men were on horses and held visibly better weapons. The horse riders had been pushed back up against the edge of a hill that the horses couldn't run up.
"Thieves! Surrender or perish!" the biggest orc, donning a set of plate armor and an open-faced helmet shouted in rage, pointing his large, dark-green greatsword at them.
One of the horse riders valiantly shook his head, clutching his axe tighter, while the other men assembled behind him, defensively. "We were hungry!"
"You dare talk back to the Gutkirian Guard?" the orc - presumably this group's commander - exclaimed in a gruff, low voice, seemingly offended. "The entire village might go hungry! It's almost winter!"
"You dogs!" an orc in the backlines spat, his voice smoother than the commander's.
Vaya grimaced. This was worse than she thought, but these men… didn't look like thieves or criminals. She felt a knot of worry, the same way a king would worry for his subjects in dire times. This was the moment to step in; now or never.
Before one of the accused humans could respond or act in any way, Vaya walked forward and made her presence known
"Stop!" she shouted, making herself seen by waving her hands around.
Every head - and two loaded crossbows - swiveled in her direction. She felt tense, her fists clenching in the fear of those bolts flying in her direction, although she was fairly sure she could protect herself if it came down to it.
There were various reactions on the others' faces, most of which weren't positive. The soldiers were confused and somewhat annoyed all around, while the humans on the other side were somewhat relieved but scared to some degree.
"Who the fuck are you?" the crossbowman to the left of the group asked, snarling with anger.
"I'm Vaya Ashtai," she said, raising her hands slightly, to show she meant no harm.
Vaya's right eye twitched. She felt the Crown nudging her towards command - telling her to Leave me alone! I can't deal with you!
"I'm Vaya Ashtai, and I'm with the Maritime League," she lied. Pulling this card was dangerous and could get her in serious trouble if she failed, but they were probably too angry to think too much about it. "And so are these men."
The man who'd spoken earlier nodded. "Y-Yeah, she's our superior. What are you doing here?"
"I was looking for you," Vaya said gently, turning to the orcs' leader. "What exactly happened here?"
The commander frowned at Vaya, but slightly lowered his greatsword. "These men have been charged with grand theft and assault," he said gruffly.
"Grand… theft?" Vaya queried again, quirking an eyebrow. "I'm sure these men didn't mean to-"
"They ate our food!" another guard said, angrily - he was almost foaming, by the look of his face.
"We were saving up," the commander added, turning to Vaya with a scowl. "We had barely enough for everyone. And now, everyone will go hungry because of these human dogs!"
Vaya was left speechless, for a moment. She turned to the men on horses, who had climbed down from their mounts by now - they probably sensed that it was the right course of action, now that they had 'back-up.' One of them had a bleeding leg.
Was she in the right, by helping these men?
"We wouldn't have had to steal if you just sold us food!" one of the four men, the tallest one, exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the orcs. "We are refugees of the war, but you've done nothing but treat us like shit!"
"Haven't you earned it?!" the rough-voiced commander shouted at them, making them flinch and step back into the cliff face. He raised his greatsword again, threateningly, while one of his subordinates began spinning a lasso.
"Your kind treated us like savages for ages! Should I remind you what Arthrion calls us?"
"You're proving us right by doing this!" the youngest of the humans pleaded, holding his dagger close to his chest. "I beg you, we just want to leave…"
Vaya stepped forward, almost between the two groups. "Please, calm down, I'm sure we can-"
The commander's sword moved to point at Vaya, shutting her up immediately. With the meanest, coldest glare, he said, "I don't care who you are; you are impeding Gutkirian law, and if you don't step back, you will be charged and arrested as well."
The tall man she'd spoken to grimaced, looking down regretfully, as the orcs returned to watch them.
Vaya recoiled, stepping back to clutch her head. The Crown was getting stronger, its nagging more powerful and distracting. A pang of annoyance went through her mind, as she tried to push it back, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist.
The commander seemed to take it as confirmation she wouldn't be interfering, and shouted, "Get them at any cost!"
Crossbow bolts flew, lassoes were thrown, and the men used the horses as cover. The tallest one got hit by a bolt in the shoulder, falling to the ground with a grunt of pain, while the others moved to defend him, fighting back the guards that were moving for him.
She had to defend them, stop this fight, but how?
The Crown pulsed with purpose and meaning.
No! I am not ready…
Another pulse. Stronger, more determined.
Vaya let out a shaky breath, trying to ignore the sounds of swords clashing and men screaming. The Crown pulsed again, making her feel light and weightless for a moment, as well as heavy and disoriented.
She wasn't ready to command. She was so young, so inexperienced…
But the Crown seemed to deem her worthy.
I accept.
A burning sensation took place, deep in her chest, as if something was being etched into her very core with a scorching iron. She raised a hand to her chest and clutched it, gasping for breath as vertigo threatened to take complete control of her and make her fall over.
Every negative sensation faded from her body. Vaya opened her eyes with purpose, and pointed a finger at the fighting crowd. She felt a connection forming between her and the Crown - unbreakable, mighty, absolute.
A noble need pervaded her, rooted deep into her very soul. One that her very nature longed for, and desired. One that her spirit was made for. She closed her eyes.
Rule, because no one else can, because the world needs me to.
She opened her eyes again. They were glowing purple.
Rule, because I am the Queen.
"I command you to stop."
A pulse of golden power flew out of her and the Crown, pushing everyone back with an incredible pressure that threatened to send everyone off their feet. The singing birds instantly silenced, the fleeing critters stopped to ogle at her, and the fighting ceased almost instantly.
Everyone looked at her with the same expression. Deep regret, intense admiration, and stupefying awe. Two of the orcs and one of the men dropped to their knees from where they were standing, while the others just observed Vaya with the most respect anyone could push into a gaze.
Vaya relaxed, her eyes returning to their previous shade of green. A new sensation was present in her core, but she didn't shy away from it. It was part of her now, because she was the Queen and, as such, had to rule. It was her ancestral right to do so.
With a calming sigh, she turned to the commander of the guards and asked, gently, "I'd like you to tell me what happened exactly."
The commander nodded, immediately sheathing his sword, commanding the others to do the same. The guards backed away from the humans, and the young human ran up to his injured companion to tend to his wounds.
The leader of the guards bowed his head. "I'm sorry, milady. As we've said before, these men have been breaking into our granary for the past two weeks and, little by little, have eaten through a lot of our supplies of food for the winter."
Vaya nodded, turning to the men to her left. "And why did you do that? Couldn't you buy food?"
"Racial bias, ma'am," the injured man muttered, sitting up with some effort, the crossbow bolt still sticking out of his shoulder. "There are… tensions, between orcs and humans. We've tried, but almost no one accepted Arthrionite money."
Vaya nodded once more, turning to deliberate to herself. No one here was in the right - on one side, a group of biased orcs who almost killed five innocent men; on the other, five men who doomed an entire village to hunger because they couldn't or wouldn't pack up and go elsewhere, or hunt for food in the forest. What was she supposed to do in such a difficult situation?
Varir, guide me...
***
The rolls in this chapter have been mixed - Royal Presence would've been used either way, but the bad Negotiation rolls that took place allowed me to create a pretty cool scene, if I do say so myself. Almost all of them now recognise Vaya as The Ruler, which opens up a great deal of possibilities going forward.
As of right now, you have 1.5 Fate Coins due to discussion in the thread - most of the word-count can be awarded to @OctarineShrike and @Wolfy. So congrats to them, a big round of applause!
But what should a good Ruler-In-The-Making do? You may not pick more than one (1) main choice.
[ ] Justice for the Orcs - They are the wronged party, here, no matter the racial bias. The men have committed a crime on orcish land, while the orcs simply protected their interests.
-[ ] Bring Them to the Village - Arrest the men and bring them to the village, allowing the orcs to do justice by themselves. (+Relationship with these orcs, despite you being human.)
-[ ] Execute Them - You are the Ruler; you are judge, jury and executioner by virtue of being the one true Queen. Kill them on the spot. (+Nobility, will unlock the trait Ruthless Fist.)
[ ] Justice for the Men - These poor humans were just hungry refugees, and they did what they could to survive. Circumstances put them in a bad spot, and you'll take them out of it.
-[ ] Take them Away - Send the orcs on their way and take the humans under your wing, away from here and into safer territories. (+Arthrion, +++Varir.)
-[ ] Kill the Orcs - Declare these men as your subjects and kill the orcs in an act of defense; what Ruler would allow a foreign nation to harm their subjects without permission? (+Nobility, -Gutkir.)
[ ] Path of the Ruler - Both parties were wronged and deserve reparations, and it is your job as the Queen to make sure everyone is as happy as can be. On top of healing the injured parties, Vaya wil… (Pick up to two.)
-[ ] Enchant the Village's soil - Make sure their soil will produce food even during the winter through your magical powers.
-[ ] Create a Magical Barrier - A gift is never uncalled for. Give them further protections from wild animals and possible creatures that may want to attack. (+Village)
-[ ] Establish an Arthrionite Embassy - As a noble Arthrionite yourself and member of the Order of the Nine, you have some political power. Create the first Gutkirian embassy for humans in centuries. (++Arthrion, +Varir, ---???)
-[ ] Declare your Domain (Two Picks) - What is a Ruler, without territory? Utilize your Royal Presence on the whole village and establish your domain. (-----Gutkir, open conflict; ++++Nobility, unlocks two new Abilities)
[ ] Path of the Cleric - Your journey began with Varir, and it is only right that you keep honoring him in whatever way you can. He is your patron God and if you're here, it's thanks to your dedication to him. Leave the prior situation up to the Dice Gods in favor of pursuing this option. (Pick up to two - every option will give you +Varir unless specified.)
-[ ] Teach Magic to the village
-[ ] Heal their wounded
-[ ] Instruct their young in world history
-[ ] Induct the willing in Varir's Church
-[ ] Train some new Clerics
-[ ] Build a Church of Varir (Two picks, ++++Varir, ------???, will spend a few weeks here.)
[ ] Leave - This isn't worthy of your time. Leave both parties up to their devices and find your own way somewhere else. Write in where you want to go.
[ ] Varir Intervention (1/1) - Spends your use of the Special Ability in the specified way.
-[ ] Assistance - +50% to one stat, +100% to one stat for the duration of a scene.
-[ ] Insight - Ask any question, receive a divine answer.
-[ ] Knowledge - Unlock one Veteran-level spell, or become an Initiate in a random or chosen magic system. 0.0002% to hit the jackpot if random.
[ ] Write-In (Particularly interesting and original write-ins and discussion thereof, even if not voted for, will earn the thread additional Fate Coins!)
Last edited:
Chapter 3: Looking Up
Gabbie
That One Writer
- Location
- Italy
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Upon returning to the village - which Vaya discovered the name of, Nadir - the townsfolk welcomed them back with anger and pitchfork. They complained about the humans still being alive, and the fuss got much more furious when they noticed an additional human was with them.
The guards' commander, Kerilian, did his best to calm the citizens down, but most of them were out for blood. The men Vaya had saved were attacked, and it was the work of most of the guards to break apart the scuffle, which ended up in a few minor injuries all around, such as bruises or scratches.
Vaya saw no other choice but to intervene, if the villagers were going to be this harsh on them. The Crown whispered advice in the antechamber of her mind, soft and gentle remindings of what she'd already learned as a noblewoman, on the politics of sociality. With her wits and the Crown's aid, the townspeople were an easy target for her sophistry.
She explained the situation as it was, nothing held back - she understood, inherently, that it was the best way to approach people from Gutkirian culture.
These men were forced to crime by bitter circumstance, and as such, have rightfully been branded as criminals by the people of Nadir Village; however, their execution was a tad too excessive for the crime committed - Vaya was willing to use her magic to enchant their farmlands and ensure bountiful supplies even throughout the winter.
To satiate their debt, the men would work at those magically enchanted farms, keeping enough food for themselves to not go hungry, while giving away all of their harvest to the village, for free.
The next thing to address were obviously the racial tensions between the humans and the orcs of the village. Vaya had learned about the reasons in her history lectures by her uncle Jofheil, which explained most of these orcs' behaviors towards the hungry thieves.
Roughly a century and a half ago, two decades before Zidhas declared war on the entire world (coincidentally, the war these men were running from), Arthrion and the Kingdom of Sands created an alliance to launch a small invasion on the Gutkirian Kingdom, as it was once known. They were attacked on two fronts - by the Sands on the west, through the mountain ranges, and by Arthrion from the northern coast, with their mighty navy.
That led to the weaker orcish polity to assemble under a dictator - the Supreme Leader of the armed forces, Tonor the Immortal - to ensure survival against the two better-organized armies. They indeed managed to survive the war and, in time, pushed back the humans' invasion thanks to superior strategy and guerrilla tactics.
However, not everything that came out of this war was good. Tonor remained in power even though the war had ended, declaring himself Emperor, and his reign is remembered as one of the worst to ever set foot in the hall of Gutkirian governments.
His continued reign of terror brought about a bloody civil war which brought Gutkir to its knees, a period of incredile weakness that almost ended with the dissolution of Gutkir in several smaller states. The war lasted almost nine years. It was only through the assassination of Tonor the Immortal that the civil war was finally brought to an end, and the Gutkirian Republic was born.
Vaya understood why orcs hated humans - the two major human governments on Asterius got together and pushed their nation in one of their darkest ages, almost leading to the death of their beloved home. However, their continued bias was a somewhat unreasonable one, in her eyes - why punish the sons for the sins of the great-great-great grandfather?
A question for another day, perhaps.
Seeing an opportunity, Vaya 'ran' for chieftain of Nadir Village, by asking for support - which she got, thanks to the undeniable humanitarian aid she brought forth - and then bringing the official request to the current chieftain. Backed by sheer luck and the village's support, the very old chieftain gladly agreed, on the condition that she'd let him stay as an advisor.
She accepted, of course. The moment they shook hands, she felt a surge of power go through her by way of the Crown. She pushed the feeling out of mind, as she currently had more important things to worry about than temporal power, as curious as she was to find out what the Crown had gifted her with.
One months after Vaya's arrival at the village, one week after Vaya's ascension as Chieftain of Nadir, the situation was looking much, much better. Winter had come around, and the magical enhancement of the fields proved more effective than was promised - the men were free of their debt in less time than anticipated, although they still wished to stay out of gratitude towards Vaya.
The tensions had grown gentler with time; Vaya was instrumental in this, as the orcs of Nadir Village now had a good human they could look to, as an example of what a member of mankind could be like.
The slow and steady growth of the village had attracted more and more people - not only orcs, but more humans and even a few wandering elves - and such growth brought with it traders, explorers, and adventurers, and people willing to settle. Nadir was going to be a much more relevant spot on the map, and all of this had been achieved in a little more than a month.
It was time to officially address the political situation. Vaya sent a few letters to the Arthrionite government through the Maritime League, asking for permission to establish an embassy. The response would have to wait, since Arthrion and Gutkir were separated by an entire ocean.
She wondered if her letter would find its way on Captain Ichthys' golden dragon-ship… Ah, sometimes childlike wonder never left you, did it?
Birdsie's [X] The Ultra Plan has won! As a result of a particularly good series of rolls, your actions have ended up helping the village more than you anticipated and rising to power quicker, saving you a full two weeks.
A month has passed. The humans have paid off their debts, Gutkir will be sending a small group of government officials to check on the situation. Traders and interested 'citizens' are approaching Nadir in flocks, looking to settle in such a promising new town.
You are now officially recognised as the leader of this growing village, thanks to your own personal charisma, and the Crown's subtle aid in influencing the people of Nadir. You have contacted Arthrion, which is sure to attract attention to you and the village.
A chance to establish the Embassy proper, since officials from Gutkir would be staying in the village.
You currently have 3-ish Fate Coins, thanks to wordcount and the 2x modifier. Given the small amount of wordcount on the thread, Fate Coins will be generated at double rate - 1000 words = 1 Fate Coin. Discord Discussion counts as well, at half that rate.
Fanwork is appreciated, too. Just write whatever you want - the more lore-accurate it is, the higher the modifier! (Birdsie, don't cheat.)
You have until the vote locks to generate FCs for the 7-FC advancement in this update - picking it without the necessary currency will put you in debt, which isn't desirable.
As the bounty of your governmental harvest has been particularly good, you've gained a level in Nobility, reaching Level 2. Select an advancement below:
[ ] Above Eternity - "Valor lies above the threads of time; it doesn't live off fame, but rather deeds."
Drawing upon your personal mana to give power to your words, you are able to Knight a chosen individual. They will be granted a total enhancement of their condition (+10 All Stats) at the cost of a commitment of 15% of your total reserves (scales down with Nobility level). The exaltation is more powerful the more loyal and willing a Knight Aspirant is.
You possess instinctive knowledge of all your Knights' capabilities and locations, and you receive a fragment of their skills and experiences as they live - if one of your Knights was a master alchemist, you'd occasionally receive 'sparks of genius,' in the form of miraculous recipes or ways to make your brewing more efficient.
Your knights' power will scale with yours, at a quarter of your rate. Each Nobility Level you gain will add +2.5 to all their Statistics.
In the current moment, you may designate up to 2 Knights without crippling your spellcasting capabilities. No Knightable targets yet.
[ ] Generosity is the Mistress - "Kindness is the trait that gives lustre to every virtue, as it is not hard to prove."
A passive ability. As long as someone is standing within your domain, they will very slowly but steadily go back to their peak health. Minor disease is flushed away, major disease is hampered, scratches heal in a matter of seconds, major wounds close in days instead of weeks.
This effect doesn't apply to magical maladies, merely influencing the physical side of a given individual. However, higher levels of advancement could lead to your citizens being protected from or outright immune to certain curses, or the whims of fate. Conceptual effects fall outside the purview of this advancement.
This ability scales off your Nobility level and the average happiness of your domain.
[ ] Imperial Fist - "Seek honor as you act, and you will know no fear."
A Ruler is authority incarnate, temporal power without bounds, the personification of nobility, grace and might unified.
Forgo enhancement of your domain, for personal enhancement to better protect the denizens of your nascent empire or expand its borders. Gain +10 to All Stats and +20 to a stat of your choice, plus a relevant advancement or skill in the field of your choice.
Additionally, unlock the trait Steadfast. Whenever you act with a clear goal in mind, and your determination is unwavering, fate will very subtly bend circumstances to provide aid in your endeavors. On top of that, gain resistance to intimidation, manipulation and psychic attacks.
[ ] God-Emperor (7 Fate Coins) - "To Varir I dedicate my spirit, to Varir I dedicate my mind. To Varir I dedicate my body. To Him, I dedicate everything of mine, because he will do the same."
A faithful person cannot dedicate themselves fully to the act of rule - a choice would be presented to them, at some point. Abandon your people, or abandon your God? That is no more. Such foolish choices won't be asked of the One True Ruler.
Forgo any major advancement and instead pray to Varir, your God - an answer will descend upon you, and divine power will fill the Crown and you. Your Nobility Level will become inextricably connected to Varir and to the Divine Plane. Varir will become the patron God of your domain, whatever its form. Any thought towards the well-being of your people is an act of prayer, any act to better your domain an act of worship, any act to defend your people an act of defense to your faith.
Woe upon those foolish enough to attack or otherwise offend the kingdom protected by the Weeping God.
Effectively merges the Last God and Once and Future narrative paths.
Now that Nadir Village is established and on its own two feet, leaving Vaya with more free time, what will she do?
[ ] Wait Here - It would be foolish to leave the village unattended while waiting for such important correspondence. It could take up to five days for the response to arrive. What do you do in the meantime? Pick two.
-[ ] Meditate (+15 Magic)
-[ ] Exercise (+5 Phys. stats)
-[ ] Explore the surrounding wilderness (25% chance of encounter)
-[ ] Pray (+Varir)
-[ ] Interact with… (Pick one. Two, if no other option is picked.)
–[ ] Kerilian, the Guard Commander (+Kerilian)
–[ ] The Human Refugees (+Refugees)
–[ ] The Former Chieftain (+Old Chieftain)
–[ ] The villagers (+Nadir Village)
-[ ] Write In. (Subject to QM veto.)
[ ] Go Home - You are not sure whether or not your family knows of the tragedy that befell you. Either way, visiting would probably bring them happiness, while also giving you a chance to recuperate and find out what exactly happened to you on that fateful night. Go to Arthrion's capital and find your family there. (+Mental Stability, ---???)
-[ ] Go by ship (2 days)
-[ ] Go on foot (1+ week)
-[ ] Go by Crown (Not unlocked yet)
This option will require you to delegate your authority to the old chieftain until you return.
The guards' commander, Kerilian, did his best to calm the citizens down, but most of them were out for blood. The men Vaya had saved were attacked, and it was the work of most of the guards to break apart the scuffle, which ended up in a few minor injuries all around, such as bruises or scratches.
Vaya saw no other choice but to intervene, if the villagers were going to be this harsh on them. The Crown whispered advice in the antechamber of her mind, soft and gentle remindings of what she'd already learned as a noblewoman, on the politics of sociality. With her wits and the Crown's aid, the townspeople were an easy target for her sophistry.
She explained the situation as it was, nothing held back - she understood, inherently, that it was the best way to approach people from Gutkirian culture.
These men were forced to crime by bitter circumstance, and as such, have rightfully been branded as criminals by the people of Nadir Village; however, their execution was a tad too excessive for the crime committed - Vaya was willing to use her magic to enchant their farmlands and ensure bountiful supplies even throughout the winter.
To satiate their debt, the men would work at those magically enchanted farms, keeping enough food for themselves to not go hungry, while giving away all of their harvest to the village, for free.
The next thing to address were obviously the racial tensions between the humans and the orcs of the village. Vaya had learned about the reasons in her history lectures by her uncle Jofheil, which explained most of these orcs' behaviors towards the hungry thieves.
Roughly a century and a half ago, two decades before Zidhas declared war on the entire world (coincidentally, the war these men were running from), Arthrion and the Kingdom of Sands created an alliance to launch a small invasion on the Gutkirian Kingdom, as it was once known. They were attacked on two fronts - by the Sands on the west, through the mountain ranges, and by Arthrion from the northern coast, with their mighty navy.
That led to the weaker orcish polity to assemble under a dictator - the Supreme Leader of the armed forces, Tonor the Immortal - to ensure survival against the two better-organized armies. They indeed managed to survive the war and, in time, pushed back the humans' invasion thanks to superior strategy and guerrilla tactics.
However, not everything that came out of this war was good. Tonor remained in power even though the war had ended, declaring himself Emperor, and his reign is remembered as one of the worst to ever set foot in the hall of Gutkirian governments.
His continued reign of terror brought about a bloody civil war which brought Gutkir to its knees, a period of incredile weakness that almost ended with the dissolution of Gutkir in several smaller states. The war lasted almost nine years. It was only through the assassination of Tonor the Immortal that the civil war was finally brought to an end, and the Gutkirian Republic was born.
Vaya understood why orcs hated humans - the two major human governments on Asterius got together and pushed their nation in one of their darkest ages, almost leading to the death of their beloved home. However, their continued bias was a somewhat unreasonable one, in her eyes - why punish the sons for the sins of the great-great-great grandfather?
A question for another day, perhaps.
Seeing an opportunity, Vaya 'ran' for chieftain of Nadir Village, by asking for support - which she got, thanks to the undeniable humanitarian aid she brought forth - and then bringing the official request to the current chieftain. Backed by sheer luck and the village's support, the very old chieftain gladly agreed, on the condition that she'd let him stay as an advisor.
She accepted, of course. The moment they shook hands, she felt a surge of power go through her by way of the Crown. She pushed the feeling out of mind, as she currently had more important things to worry about than temporal power, as curious as she was to find out what the Crown had gifted her with.
One months after Vaya's arrival at the village, one week after Vaya's ascension as Chieftain of Nadir, the situation was looking much, much better. Winter had come around, and the magical enhancement of the fields proved more effective than was promised - the men were free of their debt in less time than anticipated, although they still wished to stay out of gratitude towards Vaya.
The tensions had grown gentler with time; Vaya was instrumental in this, as the orcs of Nadir Village now had a good human they could look to, as an example of what a member of mankind could be like.
The slow and steady growth of the village had attracted more and more people - not only orcs, but more humans and even a few wandering elves - and such growth brought with it traders, explorers, and adventurers, and people willing to settle. Nadir was going to be a much more relevant spot on the map, and all of this had been achieved in a little more than a month.
It was time to officially address the political situation. Vaya sent a few letters to the Arthrionite government through the Maritime League, asking for permission to establish an embassy. The response would have to wait, since Arthrion and Gutkir were separated by an entire ocean.
She wondered if her letter would find its way on Captain Ichthys' golden dragon-ship… Ah, sometimes childlike wonder never left you, did it?
***
Birdsie's [X] The Ultra Plan has won! As a result of a particularly good series of rolls, your actions have ended up helping the village more than you anticipated and rising to power quicker, saving you a full two weeks.
A month has passed. The humans have paid off their debts, Gutkir will be sending a small group of government officials to check on the situation. Traders and interested 'citizens' are approaching Nadir in flocks, looking to settle in such a promising new town.
You are now officially recognised as the leader of this growing village, thanks to your own personal charisma, and the Crown's subtle aid in influencing the people of Nadir. You have contacted Arthrion, which is sure to attract attention to you and the village.
A chance to establish the Embassy proper, since officials from Gutkir would be staying in the village.
You currently have 3-ish Fate Coins, thanks to wordcount and the 2x modifier. Given the small amount of wordcount on the thread, Fate Coins will be generated at double rate - 1000 words = 1 Fate Coin. Discord Discussion counts as well, at half that rate.
Fanwork is appreciated, too. Just write whatever you want - the more lore-accurate it is, the higher the modifier! (Birdsie, don't cheat.)
You have until the vote locks to generate FCs for the 7-FC advancement in this update - picking it without the necessary currency will put you in debt, which isn't desirable.
***
As the bounty of your governmental harvest has been particularly good, you've gained a level in Nobility, reaching Level 2. Select an advancement below:
[ ] Above Eternity - "Valor lies above the threads of time; it doesn't live off fame, but rather deeds."
Drawing upon your personal mana to give power to your words, you are able to Knight a chosen individual. They will be granted a total enhancement of their condition (+10 All Stats) at the cost of a commitment of 15% of your total reserves (scales down with Nobility level). The exaltation is more powerful the more loyal and willing a Knight Aspirant is.
You possess instinctive knowledge of all your Knights' capabilities and locations, and you receive a fragment of their skills and experiences as they live - if one of your Knights was a master alchemist, you'd occasionally receive 'sparks of genius,' in the form of miraculous recipes or ways to make your brewing more efficient.
Your knights' power will scale with yours, at a quarter of your rate. Each Nobility Level you gain will add +2.5 to all their Statistics.
In the current moment, you may designate up to 2 Knights without crippling your spellcasting capabilities. No Knightable targets yet.
[ ] Generosity is the Mistress - "Kindness is the trait that gives lustre to every virtue, as it is not hard to prove."
A passive ability. As long as someone is standing within your domain, they will very slowly but steadily go back to their peak health. Minor disease is flushed away, major disease is hampered, scratches heal in a matter of seconds, major wounds close in days instead of weeks.
This effect doesn't apply to magical maladies, merely influencing the physical side of a given individual. However, higher levels of advancement could lead to your citizens being protected from or outright immune to certain curses, or the whims of fate. Conceptual effects fall outside the purview of this advancement.
This ability scales off your Nobility level and the average happiness of your domain.
[ ] Imperial Fist - "Seek honor as you act, and you will know no fear."
A Ruler is authority incarnate, temporal power without bounds, the personification of nobility, grace and might unified.
Forgo enhancement of your domain, for personal enhancement to better protect the denizens of your nascent empire or expand its borders. Gain +10 to All Stats and +20 to a stat of your choice, plus a relevant advancement or skill in the field of your choice.
Additionally, unlock the trait Steadfast. Whenever you act with a clear goal in mind, and your determination is unwavering, fate will very subtly bend circumstances to provide aid in your endeavors. On top of that, gain resistance to intimidation, manipulation and psychic attacks.
[ ] God-Emperor (7 Fate Coins) - "To Varir I dedicate my spirit, to Varir I dedicate my mind. To Varir I dedicate my body. To Him, I dedicate everything of mine, because he will do the same."
A faithful person cannot dedicate themselves fully to the act of rule - a choice would be presented to them, at some point. Abandon your people, or abandon your God? That is no more. Such foolish choices won't be asked of the One True Ruler.
Forgo any major advancement and instead pray to Varir, your God - an answer will descend upon you, and divine power will fill the Crown and you. Your Nobility Level will become inextricably connected to Varir and to the Divine Plane. Varir will become the patron God of your domain, whatever its form. Any thought towards the well-being of your people is an act of prayer, any act to better your domain an act of worship, any act to defend your people an act of defense to your faith.
Woe upon those foolish enough to attack or otherwise offend the kingdom protected by the Weeping God.
Effectively merges the Last God and Once and Future narrative paths.
***
Now that Nadir Village is established and on its own two feet, leaving Vaya with more free time, what will she do?
[ ] Wait Here - It would be foolish to leave the village unattended while waiting for such important correspondence. It could take up to five days for the response to arrive. What do you do in the meantime? Pick two.
-[ ] Meditate (+15 Magic)
-[ ] Exercise (+5 Phys. stats)
-[ ] Explore the surrounding wilderness (25% chance of encounter)
-[ ] Pray (+Varir)
-[ ] Interact with… (Pick one. Two, if no other option is picked.)
–[ ] Kerilian, the Guard Commander (+Kerilian)
–[ ] The Human Refugees (+Refugees)
–[ ] The Former Chieftain (+Old Chieftain)
–[ ] The villagers (+Nadir Village)
-[ ] Write In. (Subject to QM veto.)
[ ] Go Home - You are not sure whether or not your family knows of the tragedy that befell you. Either way, visiting would probably bring them happiness, while also giving you a chance to recuperate and find out what exactly happened to you on that fateful night. Go to Arthrion's capital and find your family there. (+Mental Stability, ---???)
-[ ] Go by ship (2 days)
-[ ] Go on foot (1+ week)
This option will require you to delegate your authority to the old chieftain until you return.
In Another Timeline... (Krilas)
Gabbie
That One Writer
- Location
- Italy
- Pronouns
- They/Them
This is from a very early stage of this setting, and actually the first published chapter of the first draft of this story. Here, Krilas is actually a member of the (un)known Fateless. He's not an archer, but rather, an artist who used his art to repay the cities he anonymously lived in. Every detail here - except Krilas' whole identity - is canon! React to this, analyze it or just comment for those juicy Fate Coins. Vote will lock on Sunday, and I expect the next update to be up by Monday afternoon.
Something interfered.
Before there was even light, before there was even dark, there was Fate.
It was already decided when the first flicker of existence would spark into being.
From Fate, Time was born. Seconds passed for the first time ever, and from Fate, Magic came into existence. Mana flowed and ebbed everywhere and nowhere simultaneously, and the first universal rules began enforcing themselves. Space came next, but there was nothing to fill it. Things would attract each other, nothing could be truly created or destroyed, only transformed. Space would unfold in infinite dimensions, and so would Time flow in unlimited directions. In some universes, Time would flow backwards. In some, Space would only be two-dimensional.
The rules were set.
Seconds passed, then...
Fate decided there was to be a great event, which would mark the beginning of Her Grand Scheme, and so, Time, Space, and Magic condensed into an infinitely dense, single point, and exploded with a force nothing would or could ever match.
It was already expressed, definite, and certain that the first star would be born, it would live, and would eventually die with the passion few know as a supernova.
Fate is considered by many as a fickle thing, a cheap excuse, a convenient scapegoat for those things out of the common man's control. Yet, it does not take kindly to being underestimated.
If Fate decided that the inhabitants of Existence were to enjoy free will, then they would do so.
If Fate decided that all that ever was, is and will be would whittle out and die in a year, then it would do so.
If Fate decided to doom all that underestimated Her importance, then it would do so.
Destiny is inevitable, true free will a convenient, comforting illusion that only the truly enlightened recognise as such. Death, a mere comma in the Grand Scheme of Her design.
Everything was kept into account. Every breath, every step, every action, every little thought. Anything that is, is written into the Grand Scheme; its golden thread a definite length, a specific thickness and a particular texture.
Everything, except for a select few.
Krilas' wet brush slid on the smooth wall, leaving a turquoise streak of thick paint in its path. The surrounding colors flowed beautifully into each other, transitioning seamlessly from dark to light, each shade complementing the one next to it in a harmonious, beautifully chaotic mixture of tinges and shades.
As he painted, invisible to the commotions of the world around him, rivers of people from all walks of life hurried down the street. It was peak hour; ships were docking in the local port, soldiers came back from patrols, vendors were trying to outclass their competitors by screaming louder than them, and nobles in carriages hurried down the wide, pavemented street.
A muffled roar came from the port, making everyone flinch, but not many actually turned to look.
Krilas was one of the people who looked towards it, his paintbrush suddenly halting. In the distance, barely visible through the crowd of people and the numerous, well-constructed buildings ornamented with white marble and gold-colored railings, there were three mages casting a barrier spell around a very large crate, as people scurried away from it, apparently to safety.
The spell solidified just in time, as the crate burst into flames, and a vibrant green drake burst from it, its scales bursting with youthful strength and vigorous flames. The older-looking mage raised a hand, uttered a few inaudible words, and crushed something in his other hand.
A wisp of black-purple smoke zipped from the old mage's palm and went through the barrier, hitting the drake's head. Within seconds, the great creature closed its eyes and passed out into a deep sleep.
Everyone who was caught up in the commotion sighed in collective relief and quickly returned to their usual routines, while the other two mages sternly ordered the sailors to fetch them another large crate, with emphasis on 'not wood this time.'
It wasn't that uncommon to see drakes coming through Uryset. After all, this was the largest port in Arthrion, and one of the few that could safely receive such exotic and dangerous shipments. It was less common for those drakes to wake up before they arrived at their destination, but those things still happened.
The artist shrugged and returned to his work, chuckling audibly. His brush skimmed wherever color was needed, wherever a line required definition. The image started coming together; the winged bear was already recognisable as such. If one were to squint, or see the drawing while reasonably not sober, they might actually mistake it for a real one and run in the opposite direction.
Not that winged bears were hostile creatures - despite bears being omnivorous with a favor for meat, winged bears were herbivorous. They took more after their avian ancestors.
After several more minutes of art-making, a high-pitched, congested voice reached Krilas' ear, making his heart skip a beat.
"Nice!" a young boy said, looking in the direction of him and the artwork.
Krilas smiled brightly, a mixture of incredulity and genuine happiness flowing through him. Turning towards the kid, the joy that had swelled in him instantly died down.
The boy was looking through him, as if Krilas wasn't even there. The child hadn't really noticed him, and it was abundantly clear that he was looking straight at the bear.
Krilas put down his brush and sighed, getting out of the way so that the boy could see the mural better, without him obstructing the view. An apologetic smile came to his face, as he leaned on the blank wall opposite of the painted one.
He thought, for one moment, that someone had been able to notice him. How often did that happen? How frequently did people speak up around him, making him hope for just a second that someone would be able to notice him, only for his hopes to be crushed by the realization that, of course, people won't be able to notice him unless spoken to.
Krilas spent a year experimenting. He could get away with all sorts of stuff scot-free. Something as little as stealing apples right in front of the salesman, to something as outrageous as sweeping the legs of several guards, making them fall over in a ridiculous way, and they'd all think it was a protruding rock, or they just lost balance at the same time.
He knew there were other people like him, somewhere in the world, but thus far he had found none. None that shared his burden of invisibility, none that he could relate to, none that has bothered with trying to remember him.
He knew it was possible, because that one old lady he helped with her crates and spent time with managed to remember vague details of him, for a couple of days. Then, like everyone else, she forgot.
Having finished the mural, Krilas packed all of his supplies into his bag and raised his hand. The artist focused, cleared his mind, allowing the juice of magic, mana, to flow freely through him and into his mind, where thoughts were forming.
The image, the concept of safeguard, applied to his artwork. Krilas let his mind deploy ideas through the spell; rain could fall down, people could accidentally touch the wall and smudge the drawing. All of those mental images, condensed into the incantation.
"Protect," he uttered, and a feeling of brief emptiness attacked his chest as mana flowed outward.
The spell was finalized. A sliver of light-green light shone from his palm and reached out with glowing tendrils, attaching to the wall and extending over the mural. As the protective effect took hold, the colors saturated, and a semi-permanent, telekinetic film manifested millimeters away from the wall.
"Swell," Krilas told himself with a measure of slight satisfaction, placing both hands akimbo as he stopped, to finally take in all of his work. It was one of his best yet, which he drew to repay the city for his… less-than-legal actions he took to survive.
Not being noticeable doesn't make you prime material for any job - most people would forget to pay him, and he'd work for nothing. He had to resort to petty theft and breaking and entering, things he wasn't really proud of, but his belly didn't feel itself, and the streets weren't a good place to sleep at night.
With that done and after a moment to get everything in order, Krilas remembered that, despite appearances, magic could malfunction. Especially after the Calamity. He needed to make sure the spell worked properly; he'd be overwhelmingly devastated if what he spent so much time on were to be ruined by something as stupid as a rainy day.
Deliberately and carefully, he took out his canteen and knelt next to the wall, unscrewing the cap and pouring a trickle of water down the wall, in a spot where the mural wasn't as complex; if the spell was somehow defective, it wouldn't take long to repair that particular spot.
Fortunately, it wasn't necessary: the water slid on the invisible forcefield as if on glass with very minor distortion to the colors, while the water passed. That was proof enough, and so he stood up.
He picked up his leather bag and slung it over his shoulder, put the canteen back where it belonged, and headed for the main street. He accidentally bumped into a couple of people along the way, but as always, they didn't really notice him in the slightest.
"Obei-Rok is just two days away from Uryset," Krilas spoke cheerfully, mainly for his own benefit, the people around him too focused on their own lives to care and or notice what he said. He fixed the oversized purple hat on his head, adjusted the aquamarine cloak around his shoulders, and walked towards the city gate.
Obei-Rok was the elves' homeland. A gigantic forest divided in woodland-cities, a place of great spirituality, powerful magics and home to arcane and hidden knowledge, and most importantly, 'love' was the favorite word of the day, every day.
Of course, like all good places, there's downsides. The feral Elves, a chaotic mixture of elf, nature and beast, would promptly attack Krilas on sight to feast on his tasty, half-elf flesh. That was obviously assuming they could see him, which he hoped they could.
Krilas hadn't been to Obei-Rok yet, despite his origins.
He was born to an elf mother and a human father, promptly forgotten by his parents when he was three. He was found by an old man and brought to an orphanage, where no one tended and cared for him, save for the janitor who could notice him, but is unfortunately dead. One person who could've had answers who slipped right out of Krilas' grasp.
The other side of the medal, of course, was Obei-Rok. Maybe there could find the answers he so desperately needed? Maybe it was only humans who couldn't see him - that still wouldn't explain why his mother had forgotten about him, but he couldn't ignore the possibility they just didn't want him.
A wave of sadness swept over Krilas as he walked, but he shook his head and pushed it away. He didn't want to be sad, he couldn't. He promised himself that despite his condition, he would strive to live a happy life no matter what.
Thus far, he had managed to do so. He'd enjoy good food at expensive restaurants, and would repay the owner with a portrait of his wife. He'd sit down at birthday parties and revel in their conversations, take in their stories and find out new, interesting facets of the people around him.
Despite his good-natured soul, Krilas' favorite thing was going around public libraries and screaming at the top of his lungs, and then laughing his ass off at seeing the distraught readers trying to figure out why they couldn't focus, without being able to pinpoint the culprit.
It wasn't like they didn't hear him, it was just that their brains didn't register the fact that he was screaming as relevant to their life in any way whatsoever. That was Krilas' running theory, at least.
He'd spent years of his life in libraries, learning about people, their minds and the way they thought, to figure out a solution to his problem. He thought he could find some psychological trick to fix the situation, but nothing seemed to work yet.
The very clothes he wore - which, by all accounts, were a punch in the eye - were an attempt at being more noticeable. Vibrant colors, an eccentric style and dozens of accessories that jingled with every step. Yet, he was invisible.
Obei-Rok was one of the few places on Asterius where an answer could reasonably lie. The Great Wastelands would be an option, but… Krilas refrained from thinking too much about it. It was said that just visualizing the place would drive you a tiny bit crazy.
"Destination: Elf Land," Krilas said, tapping the pointy edges of his ears gleefully, as he picked up his step and hopped like an excitable schoolgirl, making all of the items on him jingle and crash into each other.
Obviously, no one stared at the skipping man or loudly pointed out how stupid he looked.
***
Before there was even light, before there was even dark, there was Fate.
It was already decided when the first flicker of existence would spark into being.
From Fate, Time was born. Seconds passed for the first time ever, and from Fate, Magic came into existence. Mana flowed and ebbed everywhere and nowhere simultaneously, and the first universal rules began enforcing themselves. Space came next, but there was nothing to fill it. Things would attract each other, nothing could be truly created or destroyed, only transformed. Space would unfold in infinite dimensions, and so would Time flow in unlimited directions. In some universes, Time would flow backwards. In some, Space would only be two-dimensional.
The rules were set.
Seconds passed, then...
Fate decided there was to be a great event, which would mark the beginning of Her Grand Scheme, and so, Time, Space, and Magic condensed into an infinitely dense, single point, and exploded with a force nothing would or could ever match.
It was already expressed, definite, and certain that the first star would be born, it would live, and would eventually die with the passion few know as a supernova.
Fate is considered by many as a fickle thing, a cheap excuse, a convenient scapegoat for those things out of the common man's control. Yet, it does not take kindly to being underestimated.
If Fate decided that the inhabitants of Existence were to enjoy free will, then they would do so.
If Fate decided that all that ever was, is and will be would whittle out and die in a year, then it would do so.
If Fate decided to doom all that underestimated Her importance, then it would do so.
Destiny is inevitable, true free will a convenient, comforting illusion that only the truly enlightened recognise as such. Death, a mere comma in the Grand Scheme of Her design.
Everything was kept into account. Every breath, every step, every action, every little thought. Anything that is, is written into the Grand Scheme; its golden thread a definite length, a specific thickness and a particular texture.
Everything, except for a select few.
***
Krilas' wet brush slid on the smooth wall, leaving a turquoise streak of thick paint in its path. The surrounding colors flowed beautifully into each other, transitioning seamlessly from dark to light, each shade complementing the one next to it in a harmonious, beautifully chaotic mixture of tinges and shades.
As he painted, invisible to the commotions of the world around him, rivers of people from all walks of life hurried down the street. It was peak hour; ships were docking in the local port, soldiers came back from patrols, vendors were trying to outclass their competitors by screaming louder than them, and nobles in carriages hurried down the wide, pavemented street.
A muffled roar came from the port, making everyone flinch, but not many actually turned to look.
Krilas was one of the people who looked towards it, his paintbrush suddenly halting. In the distance, barely visible through the crowd of people and the numerous, well-constructed buildings ornamented with white marble and gold-colored railings, there were three mages casting a barrier spell around a very large crate, as people scurried away from it, apparently to safety.
The spell solidified just in time, as the crate burst into flames, and a vibrant green drake burst from it, its scales bursting with youthful strength and vigorous flames. The older-looking mage raised a hand, uttered a few inaudible words, and crushed something in his other hand.
A wisp of black-purple smoke zipped from the old mage's palm and went through the barrier, hitting the drake's head. Within seconds, the great creature closed its eyes and passed out into a deep sleep.
Everyone who was caught up in the commotion sighed in collective relief and quickly returned to their usual routines, while the other two mages sternly ordered the sailors to fetch them another large crate, with emphasis on 'not wood this time.'
It wasn't that uncommon to see drakes coming through Uryset. After all, this was the largest port in Arthrion, and one of the few that could safely receive such exotic and dangerous shipments. It was less common for those drakes to wake up before they arrived at their destination, but those things still happened.
The artist shrugged and returned to his work, chuckling audibly. His brush skimmed wherever color was needed, wherever a line required definition. The image started coming together; the winged bear was already recognisable as such. If one were to squint, or see the drawing while reasonably not sober, they might actually mistake it for a real one and run in the opposite direction.
Not that winged bears were hostile creatures - despite bears being omnivorous with a favor for meat, winged bears were herbivorous. They took more after their avian ancestors.
After several more minutes of art-making, a high-pitched, congested voice reached Krilas' ear, making his heart skip a beat.
"Nice!" a young boy said, looking in the direction of him and the artwork.
Krilas smiled brightly, a mixture of incredulity and genuine happiness flowing through him. Turning towards the kid, the joy that had swelled in him instantly died down.
The boy was looking through him, as if Krilas wasn't even there. The child hadn't really noticed him, and it was abundantly clear that he was looking straight at the bear.
Krilas put down his brush and sighed, getting out of the way so that the boy could see the mural better, without him obstructing the view. An apologetic smile came to his face, as he leaned on the blank wall opposite of the painted one.
He thought, for one moment, that someone had been able to notice him. How often did that happen? How frequently did people speak up around him, making him hope for just a second that someone would be able to notice him, only for his hopes to be crushed by the realization that, of course, people won't be able to notice him unless spoken to.
Krilas spent a year experimenting. He could get away with all sorts of stuff scot-free. Something as little as stealing apples right in front of the salesman, to something as outrageous as sweeping the legs of several guards, making them fall over in a ridiculous way, and they'd all think it was a protruding rock, or they just lost balance at the same time.
He knew there were other people like him, somewhere in the world, but thus far he had found none. None that shared his burden of invisibility, none that he could relate to, none that has bothered with trying to remember him.
He knew it was possible, because that one old lady he helped with her crates and spent time with managed to remember vague details of him, for a couple of days. Then, like everyone else, she forgot.
Having finished the mural, Krilas packed all of his supplies into his bag and raised his hand. The artist focused, cleared his mind, allowing the juice of magic, mana, to flow freely through him and into his mind, where thoughts were forming.
The image, the concept of safeguard, applied to his artwork. Krilas let his mind deploy ideas through the spell; rain could fall down, people could accidentally touch the wall and smudge the drawing. All of those mental images, condensed into the incantation.
"Protect," he uttered, and a feeling of brief emptiness attacked his chest as mana flowed outward.
The spell was finalized. A sliver of light-green light shone from his palm and reached out with glowing tendrils, attaching to the wall and extending over the mural. As the protective effect took hold, the colors saturated, and a semi-permanent, telekinetic film manifested millimeters away from the wall.
"Swell," Krilas told himself with a measure of slight satisfaction, placing both hands akimbo as he stopped, to finally take in all of his work. It was one of his best yet, which he drew to repay the city for his… less-than-legal actions he took to survive.
Not being noticeable doesn't make you prime material for any job - most people would forget to pay him, and he'd work for nothing. He had to resort to petty theft and breaking and entering, things he wasn't really proud of, but his belly didn't feel itself, and the streets weren't a good place to sleep at night.
With that done and after a moment to get everything in order, Krilas remembered that, despite appearances, magic could malfunction. Especially after the Calamity. He needed to make sure the spell worked properly; he'd be overwhelmingly devastated if what he spent so much time on were to be ruined by something as stupid as a rainy day.
Deliberately and carefully, he took out his canteen and knelt next to the wall, unscrewing the cap and pouring a trickle of water down the wall, in a spot where the mural wasn't as complex; if the spell was somehow defective, it wouldn't take long to repair that particular spot.
Fortunately, it wasn't necessary: the water slid on the invisible forcefield as if on glass with very minor distortion to the colors, while the water passed. That was proof enough, and so he stood up.
He picked up his leather bag and slung it over his shoulder, put the canteen back where it belonged, and headed for the main street. He accidentally bumped into a couple of people along the way, but as always, they didn't really notice him in the slightest.
"Obei-Rok is just two days away from Uryset," Krilas spoke cheerfully, mainly for his own benefit, the people around him too focused on their own lives to care and or notice what he said. He fixed the oversized purple hat on his head, adjusted the aquamarine cloak around his shoulders, and walked towards the city gate.
Obei-Rok was the elves' homeland. A gigantic forest divided in woodland-cities, a place of great spirituality, powerful magics and home to arcane and hidden knowledge, and most importantly, 'love' was the favorite word of the day, every day.
Of course, like all good places, there's downsides. The feral Elves, a chaotic mixture of elf, nature and beast, would promptly attack Krilas on sight to feast on his tasty, half-elf flesh. That was obviously assuming they could see him, which he hoped they could.
Krilas hadn't been to Obei-Rok yet, despite his origins.
He was born to an elf mother and a human father, promptly forgotten by his parents when he was three. He was found by an old man and brought to an orphanage, where no one tended and cared for him, save for the janitor who could notice him, but is unfortunately dead. One person who could've had answers who slipped right out of Krilas' grasp.
The other side of the medal, of course, was Obei-Rok. Maybe there could find the answers he so desperately needed? Maybe it was only humans who couldn't see him - that still wouldn't explain why his mother had forgotten about him, but he couldn't ignore the possibility they just didn't want him.
A wave of sadness swept over Krilas as he walked, but he shook his head and pushed it away. He didn't want to be sad, he couldn't. He promised himself that despite his condition, he would strive to live a happy life no matter what.
Thus far, he had managed to do so. He'd enjoy good food at expensive restaurants, and would repay the owner with a portrait of his wife. He'd sit down at birthday parties and revel in their conversations, take in their stories and find out new, interesting facets of the people around him.
Despite his good-natured soul, Krilas' favorite thing was going around public libraries and screaming at the top of his lungs, and then laughing his ass off at seeing the distraught readers trying to figure out why they couldn't focus, without being able to pinpoint the culprit.
It wasn't like they didn't hear him, it was just that their brains didn't register the fact that he was screaming as relevant to their life in any way whatsoever. That was Krilas' running theory, at least.
He'd spent years of his life in libraries, learning about people, their minds and the way they thought, to figure out a solution to his problem. He thought he could find some psychological trick to fix the situation, but nothing seemed to work yet.
The very clothes he wore - which, by all accounts, were a punch in the eye - were an attempt at being more noticeable. Vibrant colors, an eccentric style and dozens of accessories that jingled with every step. Yet, he was invisible.
Obei-Rok was one of the few places on Asterius where an answer could reasonably lie. The Great Wastelands would be an option, but… Krilas refrained from thinking too much about it. It was said that just visualizing the place would drive you a tiny bit crazy.
"Destination: Elf Land," Krilas said, tapping the pointy edges of his ears gleefully, as he picked up his step and hopped like an excitable schoolgirl, making all of the items on him jingle and crash into each other.
Obviously, no one stared at the skipping man or loudly pointed out how stupid he looked.
Chapter 4: New Horizons
Gabbie
That One Writer
- Location
- Italy
- Pronouns
- They/Them
It took Vaya a pretty long while a while to wrap up her list of daily chores and important things to do and deal with, but as she laid the foundations for the next round of enchantments on the newly-built walls, she took a long thoughtful breath.
Leaving the village wasn't a wise thing to do, especially with the volume of people that were regularly coming and going. Traders, new citizens, passerbys, adventurers, all people she had to vet personally, because the orcs were still not wholly trusting of newcomers unless they were Gutkirians like them.
These kinds of people, in spite of the annoying bureaucracy around their arrival, were Nadir's new bread and butter. The population was getting really diverse, too - orcs made up three quarters of the population, while the other twenty-five percent was a mix of elves, some humans, gnomes, halflings - Vaya could've sworn she saw an angel or two as well.
It was a rare thing to see them outside of Nar Ash, though. She'd only heard stories about their little secluded island, and she hoped to never have to visit.
The number of people that arrived wasn't a wholly comforting fact, though. She was highly confident in Nadir's town guard - she'd seen them train, and they could give an Arthrionite Knight a run for his money - but you could never know when things would turn really sour, or her presence would be required. Ill-intention still existed in this world, Crown or not.
As she pushed the last trickle of mana through the stone of the walls, Vaya made her decision: she would stay and wait for the correspondence to return. It would most likely arrive tomorrow or the day after that, at which point she'd have her answer and she could start to build the Embassy.
Reconnecting Arthrion and Gutkir had become a little aspiration of hers. Building the embassy would be the first of many steps towards an eventual alliance, hopefully under a banner of common interest and peace. She'd do her best to achieve her objective, at the cost of not sleeping at night.
The Crown pulsed appreciatively within the back crevices of her mind, making Vaya flinch.
She wasn't that used to the Crown yet, even after such a long time wearing it. Its influence had become subtler, deeper, more natural, but she was still occasionally caught off guard by its sudden pulses and suggestions. They were never explicitly verbal, but it always felt as though words were hidden in plain sight in all of those sensations.
What has my life become, huh? she pondered, walking briskly towards her house.
She waved quick greetings to some citizens and menial workers as she walked through the town, rarely stopping if not for a word or two with those that wished to speak with her.
"Good evening, ma'am," Commander Kerilian said with a salute. He was stationed outside her home, to prevent any burglars or thieves from breaking in and stealing anything.
"Milady, please," Vaya corrected, suppressing a grimace. She frowned at her own reactions, but hid it quickly before Kerilian could notice it.
"Uh, I apologize, milady," Kerilian said, with a light bow of his head. "Has the day been good?"
"Quite," Vaya replied pleasantly, allowing herself to smile warmly. There was a very subtle feeling of wrongness in her mind, one she didn't pander to.
"The shipment you ordered will probably be here tomorrow, before dawn," Kerilian informed Vaya, to which she nodded, with her arms crossed. "It'll be accompanied by a single Spatialist to help build the forge."
"That is splendid. Maybe the mage will teach us a thing or two, so that we won't require other people's services in the future," Vaya said, with full confidence in her ability to sway him to agree.
Of course he wouldn't - no sane businessman would provide his tools to other people. That's a quick road to bankruptcy. Some elbow grease and social-fu would do the trick, and if that doesn't work, the Crown can help a little.
"Let's hope so, milady," the commander said, stepping aside and opening Vaya's door for her. He bowed his head, not establishing eye contact as she passed. "Have a good rest of the evening, my Queen."
"Have a good night too, Kerilian." The heavy wooden door shut behind her with a loud yet gentle thud, its metal hinges snapping in place to keep the door closed. The feeling of wrongness she'd felt before passed before she could probably address it.
But maybe that was for the best; one less thing to worry about for tonight. She wanted to do something she hadn't done in a while, and that was taking care of herself. Take a warm, relaxing bath, or maybe spend some time meditating…
She had the whole night to herself, after all. Unless something happened, like last week, when that large tree fell on Mrs. Boree's house, and she had to help rebuild its roof and a portion of its face. Thank Varir she had her Crown, otherwise her job would've become much harder than it was now.
Vaya moved to the room where the bath was and began to undress. She took the Crown off, too, and placed it on a small table next to the basin.
With a casual wave of her hand, the candles around the bathroom lit up, and the blinds slid shut. The actual tub wasn't made out of marble or other precious stones like she was used to at home, but rather, a smooth wooden basin filled with hot water charmed to stay hot and bubbly.
Not worthy of a Queen, certainly, but she technically wasn't one yet. She was a Chieftain, so this would suffice.
Vaya dipped into the warm water and exhaled deeply as she descended into the basin, until she was covered by the water and foam almost completely. All the tension in her muscles melted into the water, and the pleasing aroma of the soaps and scented candles mixed in the air, providing an even more relaxing atmosphere.
"If only you were here, sister," Vaya uttered to herself. She placed her head on the side of the tub, looking at nothing in particular. She felt a rush of reminiscence taking over her, filling her mind with regretful nostalgia. Almost painful to think about, but inevitable.
She couldn't help but remember all the times she and Sarah snuck away from the bathhouse to play pranks on the vulgar butler, and she couldn't help but connect her sensations to those memories: the smells, the warmth of the water, the coziness of the lit candles casting long shadows around the room…
Funny how the stress of her current situation made the bath a sanctuary, a safe space, when in her youth it was a boring, uncomfortable chore.
Vaya really missed home. She missed her siblings, her cousins, her little nephews and nieces: all her family, really. Her bond with her family members was almost perfect, if not for the occasional bickering between them. It was idyllic, almost perfect - the most beautiful family ever.
That didn't change when she found out about Varir. After she'd told Sarah, she informed her uncle Jofheil, her parents, and they weren't mad. They weren't even worried or inconvenienced - it was something that could happen, given they were part of the Order of the Nine.
They encouraged her to seek answers for herself, rather than being complacent and staying here. They helped her prepare, get her things in order, gave her supplies and tools for the long path ahead of her…
And on the night of what should've been her departure, she was killed.
Stabbed in the throat by an assassin, so she couldn't scream, her body hid from view while she was still bleeding out. The assailant had vaguely mentioned someone crying, which she couldn't help but connect to Varir, but she'd told no one except her closest relatives.
Goosebumps covered her as she considered the possibility that the killer might've found out through Uncle or Father and Mother. She shuddered at the thought of them being hurt, tortured for information…
She couldn't imagine them willingly giving away their girl. It was abhorrent, completely out of this world. It was trying to imagine a world where two plus two equals five. It was just logically impossible. Her brain was literally unable to create a world where a betrayal of that caliber was possible.
Vaya sighed wearily, rubbing at her face with her wet hands. Her mood had soured significantly since she'd gotten in the bath, but at least she was clean, relaxed, and she didn't smell of sweat.
She got out of the basin and waved a hand again, muttering an incantation. A wave of warm air surged around her, and in a blink, she was dry.
As Vaya moved to retrieve a fresh set of clothes, she couldn't help but look at herself in the mirror. She'd changed significantly, ever since she put on the Crown. She'd grown more beautiful, her skin had become smoother, the curves on her body had thinned but hadn't faded. Much to her surprise, she also noticed a significant amount of new muscle where there previously wasn't.
"Guess I should thank you, Moth," Vaya said, looking up at the ceiling as if through it, directed at the sky and firmament beyond. She smirked, as she began putting on her clothes. "I never really liked that mole above my belly button."
The Moth. They'd resurrected her and put her here, with the Crown. She owed them her life, and would do anything to satisfy that debt. The Moth had asked something in return, but Vaya didn't know much about that goal except that she had to start in the Empty Woods, which was… less than ideal.
No one came out alive. In fact, no one that went in ever came out.
The Woods had become a worldwide-known phenomena after the previous Arthrionite King, Roland the Third, ventured in with some of his most loyal knights, never to return. There's still tales sung in taverns and inns about 'The Lost King,' and campfire stories about his ghost haunting every tree in Arthrion.
Vaya sighed and yawned. She was tired, but not quite sleepy yet, so she put the Crown on her head and sat on the floor by her bedside, cross-legged and with her hands nested in her lap.
She breathed in, and then breathed out, softly and slowly. Falling into a meditative state had become much easier over time, thanks to diligent training and hours of her childhood spent practicing magic.
It was the work of mere minutes before the only thing she could feel was her own spirit and her own mind. There was something else, there, at the peak of her spiritual perception… and that was the Crown.
She reached out with her awareness and traced the connection between the Crown and herself, and noted that there was none. There was no connection whatsoever, nothing that tied the entity that was the Crown of the One True Ruler and Vaya's soul.
Most curious, she noted mentally, as she dove to a deeper level of focus. It wasn't rare for her to dive so deep, but it was infrequent enough that it required significant effort not to slip back to a lower state of consciousness. She gazed onwards, stared straight at the golden radiance that the Crown gave off in this abstract mind-space, and…
The Crown pulsed in acknowledgment. A feeling of familiarity shot through her, into her very core, and woke something that had long been slumbering within.
And then, Vaya's world became that of bliss. She felt her body spasm and convulse from the pleasing sensation, at the new level of sheer understanding and arcane comprehension. Power powered into her spirit, trickled down into her soul and poured outward into every aspect of her being.
She became stronger, faster, more agile, because the Crown- because She willed it so. Her mind grew sharper, wittier, more so than the rest of her qualities. She felt her synapses firing faster, her brain creating new, faster connections, and upgrading those that were there before.
There was no connection between her and the Crown, because there was no need. The Crown and Vaya were one and the same - not even different parts of a larger whole, but there was no distinction between them. Vaya was the Crown just as much as the Crown was Vaya.
Vaya was the One True Ruler, destined to rule All That Is for the Forever That Will Come-
She gasped in a lungful of panicked breath, her eyes snapping open, not daring to close again, not even to blink. "Oh, gods, that was terrifying."
It took a few minutes for her to calm down from that experience. She'd never fallen so deep inside of herself, and it was… enlightening and terrifying at the same time. If she'd fallen any deeper, she probably would've caught a glimpse of the other side - after all, the soul was a mirror to the spiritual world.
But that wasn't important, now. Meditation usually tired Vaya out, but never to this degree… She could barely keep her eyes open at this point.
Readying herself for bed, she knelt by its side and put her hands together, resting her elbows on the soft mattress. She breathed in, let her body relax against the bed, and exhaled.
In a hushed, gentle tone, she prayed - in the same tone she'd incant a spell; such was the way of praying to the God of Magic.
"Varir, Father of All Arcane, protect me me,
Varir, Progenitor of All Mankind, see me,
Varir, Savior of All That Lives, feel me,
Varir, Destroyer of All That is Wicked, heed me,"
As she prayed, golden lights began floating around her, gently dancing in the air, moved by the weight of Vaya's devotion and faith.
"For I call you in this time of need,
For I praise you in my darkest hour,
For I love you in death as I do in life,
For I adore you today as I did yesterday."
Vaya did not open her eyes, for she knew a response was coming. Flashes of images flooded before her, and she recognised the usual ones. A graveyard, a castle, snow, ash…
This time, the golden castle's door opened. A breeze swept over her as she observed.
From within, a voice murmured between sobs and weeps, despair and tears…
"Vaya… Help them. The Fracture. It's his fault."
Vaya's eyes opened in shock, cutting the link.
Confusion filled her. Then surprise, then despair, then… Purpose.
Fate couldn't have chosen a better person to do this, it seems. Her two biggest goals had now… somewhat aligned, which meant that pursuing one wouldn't lead to her forgoing the other.
It was a good thing, no doubt. She was giddy, excited to start, to get up and go save the world. The castle had always been Varir's home, or whatever equivalent there is to a home for a God, and now she knew what to look for, to look for him.
More questions came with the answers, though.
The Fracture was obviously the event that the Moth had mentioned, but she'd said it was a name that they gave this phenomenon.
Was it a lie, a coincidence, or did Varir and the Moth operate on the same conceptual level and as such, perceived things similarly enough that they could have given the same name to this event?
Who was 'them?' Who is the entity responsible? Who is this 'he' that Varir was talking about?
So many questions, so little time…
And to pursue answers, she'd have to leave Nadir, leaving these people - Her people - unattended for the foreseeable future, probably forever.
What to do?
You've done pretty well, all things considered! I apologize for the time it took for this update to come out, but I was feeling burnt out yesterday, so I decided to rest and take the day off.
You're sitting at a comfortable 3.2 Fate Coins as of right now, and the 7 Coin advancement from the last update is saved (with a discount of 2 Coins) for the next Crown advancement. Currency-generation rate remains the same, at a thousand words per Coin pre-modifier.
What will Vaya do?
[ ] Two Birds with One Stone - Leave Nadir to pursue your true objective, which is to understand and solve the Fracture. Destiny has it that Varir is directly or indirectly involved with this event, and either knows something about it or played a part in making it happen or preventing it. (+++Varir, +++The Moth, ---???)
[ ] Stay and Wait - A literal infinite amount of time has passed since the Fracture happened, and things are still as they are, at least visibly. It will not hurt to wait some more, deal with some more worldly matters. It's certainly a bit shallow, but a Ruler is as Ruler does - leaving behind one's kingdom is bad business. Train, grow stronger, expand your domain (+Nadir, +Gutkir, ++Arthrion)
[ ] The Errant Ruler (5 Fate Coins) - What makes a nation? Its territories, or its people? The Crown has one more gift for you, which Varir awakened with the vision granted to you. (+++All the above, -???)
*As long as the majority of the citizens follow you, your 'domain' also moves with them.
*You and your people will gain +++Protection when inside the domain.
*You will benefit from domain-specific effects even when outside the domain.
*Conquering a territory will not add it to your domain - the people within must view you as their ruler, for dirt and mud a nation makes not.
*Either fill them with your citizens or get the people within to see you as their One Ruler.
[ ] Write-In: Subject to QM veto.
Leaving the village wasn't a wise thing to do, especially with the volume of people that were regularly coming and going. Traders, new citizens, passerbys, adventurers, all people she had to vet personally, because the orcs were still not wholly trusting of newcomers unless they were Gutkirians like them.
These kinds of people, in spite of the annoying bureaucracy around their arrival, were Nadir's new bread and butter. The population was getting really diverse, too - orcs made up three quarters of the population, while the other twenty-five percent was a mix of elves, some humans, gnomes, halflings - Vaya could've sworn she saw an angel or two as well.
It was a rare thing to see them outside of Nar Ash, though. She'd only heard stories about their little secluded island, and she hoped to never have to visit.
The number of people that arrived wasn't a wholly comforting fact, though. She was highly confident in Nadir's town guard - she'd seen them train, and they could give an Arthrionite Knight a run for his money - but you could never know when things would turn really sour, or her presence would be required. Ill-intention still existed in this world, Crown or not.
As she pushed the last trickle of mana through the stone of the walls, Vaya made her decision: she would stay and wait for the correspondence to return. It would most likely arrive tomorrow or the day after that, at which point she'd have her answer and she could start to build the Embassy.
Reconnecting Arthrion and Gutkir had become a little aspiration of hers. Building the embassy would be the first of many steps towards an eventual alliance, hopefully under a banner of common interest and peace. She'd do her best to achieve her objective, at the cost of not sleeping at night.
The Crown pulsed appreciatively within the back crevices of her mind, making Vaya flinch.
She wasn't that used to the Crown yet, even after such a long time wearing it. Its influence had become subtler, deeper, more natural, but she was still occasionally caught off guard by its sudden pulses and suggestions. They were never explicitly verbal, but it always felt as though words were hidden in plain sight in all of those sensations.
What has my life become, huh? she pondered, walking briskly towards her house.
She waved quick greetings to some citizens and menial workers as she walked through the town, rarely stopping if not for a word or two with those that wished to speak with her.
"Good evening, ma'am," Commander Kerilian said with a salute. He was stationed outside her home, to prevent any burglars or thieves from breaking in and stealing anything.
"Milady, please," Vaya corrected, suppressing a grimace. She frowned at her own reactions, but hid it quickly before Kerilian could notice it.
"Uh, I apologize, milady," Kerilian said, with a light bow of his head. "Has the day been good?"
"Quite," Vaya replied pleasantly, allowing herself to smile warmly. There was a very subtle feeling of wrongness in her mind, one she didn't pander to.
"The shipment you ordered will probably be here tomorrow, before dawn," Kerilian informed Vaya, to which she nodded, with her arms crossed. "It'll be accompanied by a single Spatialist to help build the forge."
"That is splendid. Maybe the mage will teach us a thing or two, so that we won't require other people's services in the future," Vaya said, with full confidence in her ability to sway him to agree.
Of course he wouldn't - no sane businessman would provide his tools to other people. That's a quick road to bankruptcy. Some elbow grease and social-fu would do the trick, and if that doesn't work, the Crown can help a little.
"Let's hope so, milady," the commander said, stepping aside and opening Vaya's door for her. He bowed his head, not establishing eye contact as she passed. "Have a good rest of the evening, my Queen."
"Have a good night too, Kerilian." The heavy wooden door shut behind her with a loud yet gentle thud, its metal hinges snapping in place to keep the door closed. The feeling of wrongness she'd felt before passed before she could probably address it.
But maybe that was for the best; one less thing to worry about for tonight. She wanted to do something she hadn't done in a while, and that was taking care of herself. Take a warm, relaxing bath, or maybe spend some time meditating…
She had the whole night to herself, after all. Unless something happened, like last week, when that large tree fell on Mrs. Boree's house, and she had to help rebuild its roof and a portion of its face. Thank Varir she had her Crown, otherwise her job would've become much harder than it was now.
Vaya moved to the room where the bath was and began to undress. She took the Crown off, too, and placed it on a small table next to the basin.
With a casual wave of her hand, the candles around the bathroom lit up, and the blinds slid shut. The actual tub wasn't made out of marble or other precious stones like she was used to at home, but rather, a smooth wooden basin filled with hot water charmed to stay hot and bubbly.
Not worthy of a Queen, certainly, but she technically wasn't one yet. She was a Chieftain, so this would suffice.
Vaya dipped into the warm water and exhaled deeply as she descended into the basin, until she was covered by the water and foam almost completely. All the tension in her muscles melted into the water, and the pleasing aroma of the soaps and scented candles mixed in the air, providing an even more relaxing atmosphere.
"If only you were here, sister," Vaya uttered to herself. She placed her head on the side of the tub, looking at nothing in particular. She felt a rush of reminiscence taking over her, filling her mind with regretful nostalgia. Almost painful to think about, but inevitable.
She couldn't help but remember all the times she and Sarah snuck away from the bathhouse to play pranks on the vulgar butler, and she couldn't help but connect her sensations to those memories: the smells, the warmth of the water, the coziness of the lit candles casting long shadows around the room…
Funny how the stress of her current situation made the bath a sanctuary, a safe space, when in her youth it was a boring, uncomfortable chore.
Vaya really missed home. She missed her siblings, her cousins, her little nephews and nieces: all her family, really. Her bond with her family members was almost perfect, if not for the occasional bickering between them. It was idyllic, almost perfect - the most beautiful family ever.
That didn't change when she found out about Varir. After she'd told Sarah, she informed her uncle Jofheil, her parents, and they weren't mad. They weren't even worried or inconvenienced - it was something that could happen, given they were part of the Order of the Nine.
They encouraged her to seek answers for herself, rather than being complacent and staying here. They helped her prepare, get her things in order, gave her supplies and tools for the long path ahead of her…
And on the night of what should've been her departure, she was killed.
Stabbed in the throat by an assassin, so she couldn't scream, her body hid from view while she was still bleeding out. The assailant had vaguely mentioned someone crying, which she couldn't help but connect to Varir, but she'd told no one except her closest relatives.
Goosebumps covered her as she considered the possibility that the killer might've found out through Uncle or Father and Mother. She shuddered at the thought of them being hurt, tortured for information…
She couldn't imagine them willingly giving away their girl. It was abhorrent, completely out of this world. It was trying to imagine a world where two plus two equals five. It was just logically impossible. Her brain was literally unable to create a world where a betrayal of that caliber was possible.
Vaya sighed wearily, rubbing at her face with her wet hands. Her mood had soured significantly since she'd gotten in the bath, but at least she was clean, relaxed, and she didn't smell of sweat.
She got out of the basin and waved a hand again, muttering an incantation. A wave of warm air surged around her, and in a blink, she was dry.
As Vaya moved to retrieve a fresh set of clothes, she couldn't help but look at herself in the mirror. She'd changed significantly, ever since she put on the Crown. She'd grown more beautiful, her skin had become smoother, the curves on her body had thinned but hadn't faded. Much to her surprise, she also noticed a significant amount of new muscle where there previously wasn't.
"Guess I should thank you, Moth," Vaya said, looking up at the ceiling as if through it, directed at the sky and firmament beyond. She smirked, as she began putting on her clothes. "I never really liked that mole above my belly button."
The Moth. They'd resurrected her and put her here, with the Crown. She owed them her life, and would do anything to satisfy that debt. The Moth had asked something in return, but Vaya didn't know much about that goal except that she had to start in the Empty Woods, which was… less than ideal.
No one came out alive. In fact, no one that went in ever came out.
The Woods had become a worldwide-known phenomena after the previous Arthrionite King, Roland the Third, ventured in with some of his most loyal knights, never to return. There's still tales sung in taverns and inns about 'The Lost King,' and campfire stories about his ghost haunting every tree in Arthrion.
Vaya sighed and yawned. She was tired, but not quite sleepy yet, so she put the Crown on her head and sat on the floor by her bedside, cross-legged and with her hands nested in her lap.
She breathed in, and then breathed out, softly and slowly. Falling into a meditative state had become much easier over time, thanks to diligent training and hours of her childhood spent practicing magic.
It was the work of mere minutes before the only thing she could feel was her own spirit and her own mind. There was something else, there, at the peak of her spiritual perception… and that was the Crown.
She reached out with her awareness and traced the connection between the Crown and herself, and noted that there was none. There was no connection whatsoever, nothing that tied the entity that was the Crown of the One True Ruler and Vaya's soul.
Most curious, she noted mentally, as she dove to a deeper level of focus. It wasn't rare for her to dive so deep, but it was infrequent enough that it required significant effort not to slip back to a lower state of consciousness. She gazed onwards, stared straight at the golden radiance that the Crown gave off in this abstract mind-space, and…
The Crown pulsed in acknowledgment. A feeling of familiarity shot through her, into her very core, and woke something that had long been slumbering within.
And then, Vaya's world became that of bliss. She felt her body spasm and convulse from the pleasing sensation, at the new level of sheer understanding and arcane comprehension. Power powered into her spirit, trickled down into her soul and poured outward into every aspect of her being.
She became stronger, faster, more agile, because the Crown- because She willed it so. Her mind grew sharper, wittier, more so than the rest of her qualities. She felt her synapses firing faster, her brain creating new, faster connections, and upgrading those that were there before.
There was no connection between her and the Crown, because there was no need. The Crown and Vaya were one and the same - not even different parts of a larger whole, but there was no distinction between them. Vaya was the Crown just as much as the Crown was Vaya.
Vaya was the One True Ruler, destined to rule All That Is for the Forever That Will Come-
She gasped in a lungful of panicked breath, her eyes snapping open, not daring to close again, not even to blink. "Oh, gods, that was terrifying."
It took a few minutes for her to calm down from that experience. She'd never fallen so deep inside of herself, and it was… enlightening and terrifying at the same time. If she'd fallen any deeper, she probably would've caught a glimpse of the other side - after all, the soul was a mirror to the spiritual world.
But that wasn't important, now. Meditation usually tired Vaya out, but never to this degree… She could barely keep her eyes open at this point.
Readying herself for bed, she knelt by its side and put her hands together, resting her elbows on the soft mattress. She breathed in, let her body relax against the bed, and exhaled.
In a hushed, gentle tone, she prayed - in the same tone she'd incant a spell; such was the way of praying to the God of Magic.
"Varir, Father of All Arcane, protect me me,
Varir, Progenitor of All Mankind, see me,
Varir, Savior of All That Lives, feel me,
Varir, Destroyer of All That is Wicked, heed me,"
As she prayed, golden lights began floating around her, gently dancing in the air, moved by the weight of Vaya's devotion and faith.
"For I call you in this time of need,
For I praise you in my darkest hour,
For I love you in death as I do in life,
For I adore you today as I did yesterday."
Vaya did not open her eyes, for she knew a response was coming. Flashes of images flooded before her, and she recognised the usual ones. A graveyard, a castle, snow, ash…
This time, the golden castle's door opened. A breeze swept over her as she observed.
From within, a voice murmured between sobs and weeps, despair and tears…
"Vaya… Help them. The Fracture. It's his fault."
Vaya's eyes opened in shock, cutting the link.
Confusion filled her. Then surprise, then despair, then… Purpose.
Fate couldn't have chosen a better person to do this, it seems. Her two biggest goals had now… somewhat aligned, which meant that pursuing one wouldn't lead to her forgoing the other.
It was a good thing, no doubt. She was giddy, excited to start, to get up and go save the world. The castle had always been Varir's home, or whatever equivalent there is to a home for a God, and now she knew what to look for, to look for him.
More questions came with the answers, though.
The Fracture was obviously the event that the Moth had mentioned, but she'd said it was a name that they gave this phenomenon.
Was it a lie, a coincidence, or did Varir and the Moth operate on the same conceptual level and as such, perceived things similarly enough that they could have given the same name to this event?
Who was 'them?' Who is the entity responsible? Who is this 'he' that Varir was talking about?
So many questions, so little time…
And to pursue answers, she'd have to leave Nadir, leaving these people - Her people - unattended for the foreseeable future, probably forever.
What to do?
***
You've done pretty well, all things considered! I apologize for the time it took for this update to come out, but I was feeling burnt out yesterday, so I decided to rest and take the day off.
You're sitting at a comfortable 3.2 Fate Coins as of right now, and the 7 Coin advancement from the last update is saved (with a discount of 2 Coins) for the next Crown advancement. Currency-generation rate remains the same, at a thousand words per Coin pre-modifier.
What will Vaya do?
[ ] Two Birds with One Stone - Leave Nadir to pursue your true objective, which is to understand and solve the Fracture. Destiny has it that Varir is directly or indirectly involved with this event, and either knows something about it or played a part in making it happen or preventing it. (+++Varir, +++The Moth, ---???)
[ ] Stay and Wait - A literal infinite amount of time has passed since the Fracture happened, and things are still as they are, at least visibly. It will not hurt to wait some more, deal with some more worldly matters. It's certainly a bit shallow, but a Ruler is as Ruler does - leaving behind one's kingdom is bad business. Train, grow stronger, expand your domain (+Nadir, +Gutkir, ++Arthrion)
[ ] The Errant Ruler (5 Fate Coins) - What makes a nation? Its territories, or its people? The Crown has one more gift for you, which Varir awakened with the vision granted to you. (+++All the above, -???)
*As long as the majority of the citizens follow you, your 'domain' also moves with them.
*You and your people will gain +++Protection when inside the domain.
*You will benefit from domain-specific effects even when outside the domain.
*Conquering a territory will not add it to your domain - the people within must view you as their ruler, for dirt and mud a nation makes not.
*Either fill them with your citizens or get the people within to see you as their One Ruler.
[ ] Write-In: Subject to QM veto.