Shadow of the Dragon: An 8-Bit Dystopia Quest

Paralogue: Vocalist Fangirls Over BSFE Some More
Aurelis is often spoken of as a harsh and forbidding land. Much the same as Macedon, it was not settled right away, and only then by outcasts and adventurers who found the hierarchy of the Holy Kingdom confining and yearned to reclaim the freedom enjoyed by the first colonists. Its vast plains are too arid to grow aught but dry grass, and so its inhabitants live nomadic lives, leading herds of hopping, hungry pols voices and porcine bulbos from field to field.

Villages that move from month to month are hard to find, and what's worse, the people tend to be poor. Aurelis is usually not considered worth the effort to raid, but it is considered worth the effort to conquer – by Medeus – and Michalis wishes to be prepared for the inevitable invasion. 'The goal is to spend as little and gain as much as possible,' was how he'd put it. Privately, Minerva thinks this all a bit…degrading. Sizing up the wealth of people who have little to begin with, scrabbling for scraps from the table of an emperor because he's barred them from their traditional hunting grounds, jumping at the chance to please him…She was never convinced by Gharnef's arguments. Macedonians have always fought against darkness and domination, and if that meant allying with the so-called Holy Kingdom, well, there is such a thing as a lesser evil.

But she is loyal and loving to her brother and king. This is the path he's chosen for Macedon and she will see that their kingdom reaches the end intact. Failure would be the real sin. As such, she takes three dozen Whitewings and half a dozen dracoknights with her to Aurelis. They split apart to cover the vast and empty prairie, pegasus knights in groups of three and dracoknights alone, navigating by the stars and filling in empty maps. Minerva does an equal share of the work. She flies past tent villages smoking with cookfires and cold empty forts – and some not-so-empty forts, which have her and Leonidas dodging arrows. It's bracing, really; they haven't had the chance to do some real flying in a while.

[Spending time with Leonidas: 98+15(Wings Obscuring the Sky). New total 113/???. Milestone reached! Minerva's wyvern rider trait has been upgraded.]

[Elite Red Dragoon: You chose to bond a red wyvern – swift and aggressive, but tiring easily. Through your strong bond, the two of you are able to combine a wyvern's ferocity with a human's wisdom. +7 Martial]

"Just a watchtower," she mutters, making a note on her map. "To give early warning of invaders. Couldn't have been more than two people shooting at me." Their density increases as she flies further north, and she is forced to spur Leonidas higher and higher, search longer into the night for a safe place to lay her bedroll, until one early morning she is awoken from uncomfortable sleep in a gully of scratchy bushes by the noise of an approaching patrol.

Wrapped in her blankets, she's terribly vulnerable. But any movement she might make would rustle the bushes and draw their attention. Leonidas is tensing – she can feel him scratching at her mind – and a vision unfolds, of him bursting from the gully to keep them occupied while she readies her weapon. They approach, and as she tries to steady her breathing, she hears their voices, catches the rhythm of their easy conversation. She makes a decision. She will hope that the sparse foliage is enough to hide his scarlet scales.

Stay completely still and quiet.

The command sparks through her implants, and the red wyvern obediently sinks back to the ground. She is used to holding back an over-aggressive wyvern (it is a common enough flaw in the species, especially the reds). She can control him regardless; her implants have never failed in that regard. It's just…there is something different about this time.

When she orders him to do something he doesn't really want to do, obedience is not instant. There's usually a shudder, a little hitch as his instincts struggle against her commands. She was worried, in fact, about the possibility of him making some noise in the process. But that didn't happen. Complete silence. Smooth responsiveness. She stares into a dark red eye.

…Understanding?

The voices draw close enough to be deciphered, accompanied by the tramp of hooves and what sounds like the snorting of pegasi. "…they're not from Macedon. Well, yes, they're from Macedon, but they're not for Macedon. They're rebels, that's what the rumors say."

"Well, why can't they do their rebelling somewhere else? It feels like we're the continent's armpit these days…"

"Coyote said something about an opportunity in disguise. He went to go meet them; can you imagine having all those wyverns on our side?"

"I don't know. Can you imagine him actually recruiting them?"

"Well, he brought Roshea with him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon, it's Roshea! He's just the cutest little guy! I don't think anyone can say no to that face…" The voices fade away, continuing their friendly conversation none the wiser that one of the wyverns they are discussing is actually right there. Minerva scoffs quietly. She is certainly not a rebel! It should be clear to any competent military commander that her forces are scouting out Aurelis in preparation for a future strike. Her men have orders not to engage with the locals if possible, so this Coyote (and his cute little guy) are likely to return alive, but empty-handed. Possibly the best outcome; it will be a boon to Macedon if such an idiot remains in command.

Minerva waits a while just to be safe. They are mere dots, making their way back to the stone silhouette – the only true castle she's seen in this country – they emerged from, when the wyvern and rider take to the air.

She dares not get much closer to that castle, not without a substantial army. She is far enough north that the steppe is transitioning to mountains. Nestled in between two foothills, well-guarded by layered stone walls and firing platforms built into the natural rock, Minerva judges that it could hold more people than the Aerie, and be as hard to take as anything the Grustian military engineers have created. It seems likely that she's found Aurelis's capital. Satisfied, she turns back south.

She and Leonidas spend a few more days with only each other's company until, one bright day over the lea, she sees the silhouettes of a dracoknight and a pegasus knight. Well, even she is getting to the point where she'd appreciate some human company, so she takes this as a stroke of luck. She flies in closer and flashes a greeting sign.

Neither of them respond. Minerva takes in more of the scene: sunlight flashing on violet scales and drawn weapons. These riders are not flying together, she realizes; the wyvern is chasing the pegasus. What's more, of the knights she brought with her, only Audrey rides a violet and that rider is the wrong build to be them!

In a cold, breathless moment, Minerva thinks back to the nonsensical conversation she overhead back at the North Fort, and realizes that she and her scouts are not the only Macedonians in Aurelis.

…Ruben's wing is here. And, if the Aurelians have the right of it, they are trying to betray Michalis. She has not seen many pegasi among the Aurelians; they do not live wild here. That pegasus rider is very likely one of her Whitewings.

Dive. Aim for the wyvern.

[Minerva vs. Violet Dragoon, Martial: 25 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) = 81 vs. 98 + 16 = 114; Failure]

The other dracoknight has realized that they are not on the same side. Gripping onto their mount, they disengage from the Whitewing and roll out of the way with the violets' peculiar agility. Leonidas's outstretched claws do not so much as brush the whipping tail. Minerva makes a strangled noise of frustration; now she has wasted the twin advantages of surprise and altitude. She looks to the others as Leonidas begins the work of climbing again.

[??? vs. Violet Dragoon, Martial: 29 + 16 = 45 vs. 64 + 16 = 80; Failure]

[Violet Dragoon vs. Minerva: 35 + 16 = 51 vs. 43 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) + 8 (Red Scale Armor) = 107; Solid Failure]

The pegasus knight is throwing a javelin. It doesn't amount to much, but at least the work of dodging keeps the other dracoknight from taking advantage of her unbalanced state.

[Minerva vs. Violet Dragoon: 37 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) = 93 vs. 61 + 16 = 77; Success]

[??? vs. Violet Dragoon: 86 + 16 = 102 vs. 85 + 16 = 101; Bare Success]

Leonidas and the pegasus draw closer at the same time. Pinned in between them, the dracoknight is getting nervous. They decide to drop. The inexperienced Whitewing doesn't recognize the maneuver; her spear clangs off a tail spine that is suddenly where the leg muscles were. Minerva, however, knows every angle of a wyvern's wings and her thoughts are Leonidas's own. As her axe sweeps through thin air, the red wyvern's maw bites down, teeth catching on scales. The opponent slips free with gravity's help, lines of dark blood staining its flank. A shallow wound. Not enough to bring them down.

[Violet Dragoon vs. Minerva: 100 + 16 = 116 vs. 40 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) + 8 (Red Scale Armor) = 104; Critical Success]

But enough to make them desperate. Minerva hears faint words reach her through the howling of the wind, sees a mouth open wide like a void, and, for one very short moment, her hair stands on end.

Then she is struck by lightning. It is a hammerblow to all the senses at once. Day becomes brighter than day, air flees, every single muscle is squeezed by a burning hand, and the only blessing is that darkness falls quickly.

…Darkness rises quickly, too. The two of them regain consciousness before it is too late to avoid crashing into the ground. She fixes her gaze on the horizon to help Leonidas right himself and he arrests their fall. The Whitewing, keeping dangerously close, falls back a bit and flashes an inexpert hand sign. She's asking to land and treat the wounded. Minerva thinks she and Leonidas are fine to fly, but there's no telling what wounds the girl took before she got here.

The violet dracoknight is far above and far away. Minerva glares at them ruefully as she lands, and marks the direction they're fleeing in. Then she turns her attention to her Whitewing. "Are you injured?"

"Only a little frightened." The blue-haired maiden beams up at her with a babyish face. That's not one of her Whitewings. "That brute never caught me. I'm far more worried about you!" This is a complete stranger. "I had no idea he was a mage! He wasn't carrying a spell tome – I've heard that casting without is much harder, so that must be why he only pulled out that Thunder spell once he was really pressed." She has just jumped into a duel between two complete strangers. "How are you feeling? Can you walk?"

Minerva has not yet fully unstrapped herself from the saddle, too shocked at the revelation. The stranger seems to take this as a sign of her infirmity, and walks forward, still chattering away. "Let me help you. I don't have any experience with wyverns, so please let me know if I do anything wrong."

[Wyvern Charming, Diplomacy, Difficulty 75: 34 + 14 + 30 (Do you believe in love?) = 78; Bare Success]

Her deft little fingers settle on the saddle and begin picking at the straps. To Minerva's amazement, Leonidas lets her off with naught but a glare and a slow-building growl. "Oh?" She looks between the wyvern and Minerva, wondering what to do.

"Calm, boy," Minerva mutters. "He's picky about who approaches him. Most wyverns are," she lectures, back on familiar ground for a moment. She fumbles with her straps, hands still shaky from the lightning strike, and eventually gets herself free. Her knees shake, and might have given out if not for the other rider supporting her.

"Let's check you for burns," the pegasus rider suggests, and since Minerva doesn't see how this stranger could ambush and slay her with some bandages and a waterskin, she agrees. "Have I thanked you yet? Well, let me rectify that. I am so grateful to you for intervening when you did."

She has such a sweet air to her, and dabs at her raw skin so tenderly, that Minerva finds it hard to feel unhappy about taking her side, though she still finds it terrifically embarrassing. "Repay me by explaining the events that led up to this…situation."

"Let's start by introducing ourselves. I am Caeda," says the pegasus rider.

[Does Minerva think to hide her name?, Intrigue, Difficulty 40: 14 + 10 = 24; Failure]

"Minerva," she replies.

"Oh? Are you the same as the King of Macedon's sister?" Caeda's eyes glitter with interest.

Minerva hates the mortifying ordeal of being known. Her chest is already constricting.

"…Okay then. Well, my rescuer, you should know that the village I was staying at was just attacked by eleven – I counted – dracoknight bandits, who tore down houses looking for things they could steal. They struck down anyone who got in their way. They gathered up food, precious goods, and at least one woman to take back to their hideout." Eyes flashing with outrage, Caeda recounts, "There was no way we could stop them. So I saddled my pegasus, in order to fly to the Wolfguard and alert them to bring about a swift retribution. One of their number followed me to stop my message, and it was a close chase between us – until you arrived." She presses her lips together. All this time, her hands have not stopped working, if inexpertly.

[Healing Minerva, Learning, Difficulty 45: 75 + 12 = 87; Success]

Well, Minerva was not badly burned in the first place, so it's enough. The raw parts of her skin are wrapped in bandages, thick enough that they can take the weight of her armor once more. She slides the metal-reinforced scales back on, fingers working automatically (the shaking has stopped) as her mind grapples with the story she's been told. Its brutality is almost banal. Macedon's raiders have done such things countless times in the past and she is here in Aurelis so that they may do so again. Michalis would probably only be angry that these dracoknights were not doing so in his name. And yet Caeda shakes with anger, as if she truly believes that this should not happen.

"Princess Minerva," the girl pleads, "I have already seen that you are a true knight. You would not abide such men in Macedon, and so they left to wreak havoc elsewhere. You have come here to put an end to these deserters, is that not the case?"

"…I cannot tell you why I'm here," is all Minerva says.

"When I reach Lord Hardin and the Wolfguard, they will be outraged to hear my news. They will ride against the deserters at once. You would be welcome to ride with us." She says all this with such certainty, such faith. Here is someone who still believes in the essential goodness of the human spirit.

Standing before her, Minerva feels such anger and shame. It would be beyond perverse to take it out on young Caeda, so she'll go after Ruben instead. But it is still her decision how she goes about it.

[ ] With the Wolfguard Battle makes strange bedfellows, sometimes. Follow Caeda to these knights of Aurelis and lend Hauteclere to their crusade. Present the bandits with the justice that they deserve.

[ ] With the Whitewings She will not forget who is her enemy and who is her friend. Fly to the rendezvous point, gather up whoever's present, and present the traitor with the weight of Macedon's displeasure.

Behold, the first test of combat and the Paralogue system! Funny thing is, I was expecting Minerva to utterly trounce her opponent, but the dice had other ideas. Instead of a tense interrogation, the wyvern rider got away scot-free while Caeda bandaged Minerva's wounds. Which will, ironically, end up worse for that guy in the long run, because letting Caeda have an uninterrupted conversation with someone is a surefire way to bring out a buried conscience.
 
Fangirling Over BSFE Part 2: Meet the Wolfguard
[ ] With the Wolfguard Battle makes strange bedfellows, sometimes. Follow Caeda to these knights of Aurelis and lend Hauteclere to their crusade. Present the bandits with the justice that they deserve.

The choice is hers, and she makes it with the dignity of a free warrior. She tells Caeda, "You are right, in that these men have offended both Macedon and Aurelis with their actions. If these Aurelian knights are closer by than mine own, I will make common cause with them to punish these…bandits all the more swiftly. After that, I will depart." Leonidas rouses, sensing her eagerness to be off.

Caeda beams. "We will set things right." They alight, and…Mother of God, this poor girl has no experience with formation flying. The wake of her passage is only enough to annoy Leonidas, but it could be dangerous to another pegasus rider. Did she have the only pegasus in her entire village, or something? She's tempted to reconsider, but by the time she has communicated an impromptu lecture to Caeda through hand signs, they are already at their destination.

[Caeda's Martial and Learning have both increased by 1. Caeda appreciated the flying tips!]

They land beside one of the many watchtowers Minerva flew past on her way into Aurelis. Faces immediately crowd the windows at the sight of them, a wyvern and a pegasus flying together. Minerva refuses to descend from her wyvern, and, after a moment of confusion, Caeda stays with her.

The man who comes out to meet them is dressed entirely in flowing white, including a white cloak and white turban, as if he were trying to achieve a camouflage effect but ended up in the wrong biome. In fact, if he did want to camouflage in this dry grass, the natural gray-brown of his fur would probably be his best bet. He is some kind of Uplift, with a long snout and canted amber eyes…Minerva is not very familiar with the creatures of Old Earth, but she thinks he might be…a fox? A wolf? She's guessing. Wolves are bigger than foxes, and he's as tall as her.

He looks at Minerva with obvious interest. "A crimson dragoon in crimson armor…I would certainly remember meeting you before. Should I assume you have news of our Macedonian friends, Caeda?"

"They never were our friends, Lord Hardin. They made that clear when they attacked the village where I was staying with utmost brutality," Caeda replies.

"They could have done worse," Minerva corrects her. To the girl's glare, she says, "They left most of the villagers alive. They didn't even set the houses on fire. You have never seen war. Trust me when I say it could be worse." Lifting her gaze to Hardin, the animal-man, whose amber eyes are glowing with an emotion she cannot decipher, she announces, "These are middling men with no courage or morals. Macedon has far fiercer faces it can show, and I am one of them."

"Hmm," Hardin rumbles. When he lifts a hand to gesture, Minerva sees a grayish paw, tipped with sharp black claws. "Would I be correct to name you Princess Minerva of Macedon?"

Minerva feels her eyebrows rise. "Am I so well-known, even in Aurelis?"

"I took part in the recent war, that's all. Many Macedonians spoke of their king's right hand, the woman on a red wyvern. Rumors state that she's the kingdom's greatest warrior as well as its greatest beauty."

"The rumors about me say what?" Minerva wonders if he's somehow conflated sister and brother into the same person.

"Nothing but complimentary things, I assure you," he purrs.

Caeda hurries to explain, "While I was taking this message to you, one of the deserters flew in pursuit. Princess Minerva saved me. She's here hunting them, for the honor of Macedon. She's agreed to join forces with us."

"Assuming," Minerva adds, "you can keep up."

Hardin's black lips curl up, revealing a row of yellowed fangs. "Epona loves races. But I think we'd better pace ourselves, so as to arrive at the battle with plenty of energy. I can have the Wolfguard ready to leave in twenty minutes. Caeda can show you where to refresh yourself in the meantime."

Minerva follows the young woman to refill her water, empty her bladder, and eat a snack. Caeda has some pressed, dried sheets of a salty vegetable that she is delighted to share. It's seaweed, Caeda informs her.

[Spotting the clue, Intrigue, DC 20: 05 + 10 = 15; Bare Failure]

"There are seas in Aurelis?" she asks, confused.

"O-oh, well, it's not local. I brought it from my home in Talys," Caeda admits.

"Huh, so you're Talyan? Was it hard to get ahold of a pegasus all the way over there?" Wyverns and pegasi are both endemic to the rocky island. Every so often, a merchant seeks to export some pegasi, or a daughter of Macedon will leave to pursue mercenary work; apparently nobles around the continent will pay a lot for flying messengers. The technology to make a wyvern rider is found in Macedon and Macedon alone, however, and that is for the best.

"Oh, Tsubaki was the most expensive gift my father's ever gotten me. I'm going to be finding ways to repay him for years to come," she replies. Minerva suspects that the glow in her eyes is all the repayment her father needs, if he dotes on her as she imagines.

The Aurelians get ready as promised. New faces appear, corralling the ugly, stumpy-legged, bristly, tusked bullbos that serve most of Archanea as cavalry. Minerva once again counts herself fortunate to be born in Macedon; the bullbos are nearly as aggressive as wyverns, and only a tenth as smart. If she had to ride one of those

Minerva turns her attention to the men saddling those mounts, and for the first time she truly appreciates Aurelis's reputation as a land of misfits. Besides Hardin, there is another Uplift, a much smaller creature with spoon-shaped ears, twitching white whiskers, and broad patches of white-ringed black fur around his eyes. There, saddling an absolutely massive bullbo, is a Goron, a man like an ambulatory rock with mysterious sigils ground into his skin. There is someone with no exposed skin at all, clothed in a baggy green jumpsuit and metal gauntlets. Behind their battered helmet, an unnatural light gleams, reminding Minerva of childhood tales of killer robots.

Caeda saunters over, stretching. "Is this your first time seeing the Wolfguard? These are all the knights that have sworn their personal loyalty to Lord Hardin!"

"He must be an exceptional man, to have gathered such a crew. A bit egotistical to name it after himself, though," Minerva comments.

"Oh, no," Caeda giggles. "I can see why you'd think so, but the Wolfguard is named after its founding member, Wolf. Lord Hardin is actually an uplifted coyote."

Minerva scowls with embarrassment. "…I see. You must find me a dreadful rube."

"Please don't think that! I was just as confused when I first arrived in Aurelis. There's so much in the world that no one could possibly know it all. Here, let me give you their names: the Goron over there is Vyland. The cute raccoon Uplift is Roshea. The maverick bioroid is Sedgar. And Wolf, let's see, where is he? Wolf's a human, I think."

Minerva feels a bit dizzy with information overload. Coyote is a coyote, Roshea is a raccoon, but Wolf isn't a wolf? Meanwhile, Caeda is yelling at someone, "Hey, Sir Wolf, are you a human?"

"That's none of your fucking business." The knight who turns to face her can only be described as…bleached. It is as if a man with hair and eyes red like Minerva's own was somehow scraped, squeezed, dried in the sun, until his colors faded to pink and his inner fire cooled to jealous embers. He is pale, thin like a wrung towel, with not enough fat or pigment to stop his veins from peeking through his skin. His hands are carrying a bow as tall as he is, though, so she will not make the mistake of thinking him weak just because he looks a little sickly. "Get back to your pegasus. We need to be ready to go." Chastised, Caeda slinks away.

[Does Minerva notice anything else about him? Occult, Difficulty ??: 11 + 7 = 18; Failure]

"Dame Minerva, a moment." Hardin pads over to her side. "Our quarry has colonized an empty fort a short distance away." He points east. "Two hours ride, for us. Likely less for you, but you would be the best judge of that."

[Can Minerva squeeze out some military info from Hardin? Intrigue: 59 + 10 = 69 vs. 54 + 19 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) = 78; Bare Failure]

"Aurelis seems to have a lot of empty forts," she comments.

He shrugs nonchalantly. "As long as they're garrisoned when they need to be, what's the problem with that?"

There must be some pattern, she thinks. Aurelis is so vast and empty, compared to its population. They don't have the numbers to patrol every inch. So how do they decide where to send their soldiers?

A new voice interrupts her thoughts. "Coyote. We're ready." It's the pale, ambiguously human one.

"Ah, Wolf. We're just putting together a strategy," Hardin assures him. "Our enemy will all be capable of flight, but we have archers, and two flyers of our own."

"Roshea will struggle. What if we detach him to look for the prisoners?"

"He usually fights as a team with Vyland. I don't want to leave him alone."

"Tell Vyland to guard me and Sedgar. We can't focus on close-range combat if we're going to be shooting down wyverns." The two men exchange ideas with an ease born of long comradery. The pause as they both consider her is noticeably less comfortable.

"…What is this one going to do?" Wolf asks, as if he fully expects her to betray them at some point.

"Well, Dame Minerva? How can our flying troops best contribute to the battle ahead? I will follow your judgment," Hardin says in a much politer tone.

[ ] Corral the enemy You can't let even one of these men escape – it's a matter of principle. Minerva will focus on controlling the upper altitudes, pushing enemies towards the lower battle and punishing anyone who tries to escape.

[ ] Confuse the enemy Ruben and his men already know that a dracoknight and a pegasus knight are after them – but they don't know about the Wolfguard yet. Minerva and Caeda will speed ahead as a vanguard, drawing the enemy out for a seemingly-easy fight. While the enemy are all focused on the aerial battle, the Wolfguard's archers will reap a deadly harvest.

[ ] Harass the enemy Minerva is a mighty warrior, but the day has demonstrated that victory is not guaranteed for her, even in a one-on-one duel. She'll avoid fighting enemies alone, and focus on combining her efforts with the ground-bound fighters.

[ ] Write-in
 
Fangirling over BSFE Part 3: Bringing Archers to a Wyvern Fight
[X] Corral the enemy You can't let even one of these men escape – it's a matter of principle. Minerva will focus on controlling the upper altitudes, pushing enemies towards the lower battle and punishing anyone who tries to escape.
-[X] Minerva will try to take the violet dragoon from earlier alive. She has some pointed questions for him about just how he was able to summon that lightning bolt.
-[X] During the fight, Minerva will keep an eye on the Wolfguard and their tactics. Seeing how non-humans fight could be educational.

The mood inside the confiscated fort is grim, for all that the inhabitants have just returned from a successful raid. The wyverns fight over the meager supplies of meat, and the humans have their own disagreements: "What the fuck is this?" yells Ruben.

"Uh…" the uncertain dracoknight looks back at the topic of contention, the sullen villager he's dragging by the hand. "Well, she's a girl. A pretty one."

The villager appears to be resisting, with difficulty, the urge to spit in his face.

Ruben is not any more pleased. "I told you to focus on food and valuables, idiot! Is she food? Can we sell her?"

The people in the room look at each other, awkwardly. Macedon has its taboos, but they've left Macedon behind, so…

"Yes, yes, we can technically sell her," Ruben answers his own question. "If we knew where to find the nearest slave market. But tell me, how much food is she going to eat until then? How much more will we need to feed a wyvern, to carry her weight? Were you thinking at all when you took her? With your proper head I mean, not the one between your legs!"

The berated dracoknight rallies: "I know we're low on food. My thinking was, just keep her for the night, then let her go. No need to feed her anything."

Her eyes flash with hope; she is listening carefully. Her thoughts are plain to see: I'm going to make it back home. I just need to endure one night. She looks at Ruben, for confirmation, perhaps. That may have been a mistake. He is tired. He has been enduring for far longer than one night. As he sees her hope, his eyes fill with spite.

"You're not keeping shit, you greedy moron," Ruben tells his knight. He strides forward, grabbing the woman by the arm. "Let go. I'm going to make sure she's actually useful for something." He begins dragging her toward the exit. "The wyverns have worked real hard today, and they're hungry."

The woman speaks for the first time in their hearing: "No!" She comes alive with desperation, kicking, biting, and scratching. Ruben swears under his breath. Another bandit comes over to take her other arm, and together they drag her out, to the meadow where the wyverns are waiting. "No, no! Let me go!" she screams wildly. There is so little she can do, but she does it all, animated by a pure will to survive. She scrabbles against a sheer cliff to slow her fall. She is winning mere seconds.

The seconds are enough. "Ruben! Incoming! Cavalry and flyers!"

"Damn it." The bandit leader scans the sky, speaks to his crony without looking: "We need to ready for battle. This is a rotten day…Zanza! Zanza, get your ass over here!" Relinquished, set aside, the villager creeps backwards, breath still heavy. No one is paying attention to her now; all eyes are on the newest target of Ruben's displeasure.

"Now, see, if I'd tried to fight two opponents at once and gotten myself killed, you wouldn't have been warned to expect this attack, right?" the one-eyed rider called Zanza argues in self-defense.

Ruben barks a short laugh. "Yeah, sure. Since we outnumber them now, though, that excuse won't work again. Go first into the fight, Zanza. You don't get to run away this time. Follow through, or die." His eyes scan the crowd of hardened warriors. "That goes for all of us. We fight off this party, and that wins us some room to breathe before more come. Aurelis and Macedon are both after us, now. The only way out is through. And there ain't no force better at piercing through than Ruben's Ravagers!"

---

Minerva scans the horizon from atop Leonidas. Their target, an earthen building with a spindly watchtower extending to the skies, is resolving into clear view. She will be able to count the wyverns soon enough – but for now, many of them are grounded, still being saddled. Ruben left Macedon with twelve men; Caeda counted eleven earlier. Reasonable to think he lost one in the war, but she won't count herself surprised if the missing knight was just left behind as a guard.

Caeda and Tsubaki keep pace easily. So do the Wolfguard, surprisingly enough. They're mostly mounted on bulbos, but Hardin has an honest-to-God horse, a creature from Old Earth that looks like a wingless, muddy pegasus. It's a very funny sight, but its hooves eat up the miles on this flat, dry prairie. (In the mountains, she suspects, they would have far more trouble).

Minerva hangs back as they approach, scanning the battleground and letting the Aurelians have the first go at the enemy. Dragoons are sallying, now – one, two, three…four, that's the violet that took her out with magic! Minerva narrows her eyes. She recalls that frozen moment before the flash: the rider mouthing an incantation she couldn't hear, the mount coiled in readiness. She thinks she recalls that pale face. She thinks she might have ridden with that woman, at one point. Is it worth seeking out one opponent specifically in this fracas? For vengeance, for curiosity, for the sake of old bonds?

…Well. She's vowed that not a single one of these traitors will escape today. She'll probably cross paths with that one in the course of things.

The initial wave is here. She watches the exchange with a general's detachment.

[Wolf and Sedgar vs. Vanguard Dragoons; Martial: 66 + 28 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) = 99 vs. 99 + 16 = 115; Failure]

[Vanguard Dragoons vs. Hardin and the Wolfguard; Martial: 93 + 16 = 109 vs. 84 + 28 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) + 5 (Epona) = 122; Failure]

[Hardin and Vyland vs. Vanguard Dragoons: 54 + 28 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) + 5 (Epona) = 92 vs. 83 + 16 = 99; Bare Failure]

…What are they doing? After the archers' initial shots miss, three of the dragoons (including the violet) wheel back skittishly; one attempts to charge them (which is, in Minerva's reasonably informed opinion, what a wyvern rider should do when faced with a few archers on open ground) but their lance is deflected by an open palm strike from Vyland as they zoom past each other. No one has accomplished much of anything.

Well, except Minerva. She's learned that Gorons really are tough as rocks. No wonder Vyland doesn't bother with armor.

[Wolf and Sedgar vs. Vanguard Dragoons; Martial: 74 + 28 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) = 107 vs. 63 + 16 = 79; Success Solid Success (Archer: Successful attacks against flyers increase their level of success by one step)]

[Vanguard Dragoons vs. Hardin and the Wolfguard; Martial: 81 + 16 = 97 vs. 26 + 28 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) + 5 (Epona) = 64; Success]

[Hardin and Vyland vs. Vanguard Dragoons: 24 + 28 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) +5 (Epona) = 62 vs. 64 + 16 = 80; Failure]

The three other wyvern riders finally get over their bit of nerves (too used to attacking defenseless villages? Hmph) and try to swoop the Wolfguard as one. The archers sight their arrows with admirable steadiness, and one wyvern drops, holes in its wing and its rider's head. The other two descend with murderous intent, but the archers spur their mounts to a sudden burst of speed and leave Vyland behind, in a maneuver that must have been practiced. The Goron takes the gouging claws and lances without complaint – but without managing a counterattack – and when the pass is over he still sits tall, albeit chipped.

[Observing the Wolfguard in Combat, Martial, Difficulty 25/50/75/100: 72 + 41 = 113; Complete Success]

Minerva watches all this hungrily. She has not forgotten that her purpose here is to bring back intelligence on Aurelis's defenses. Perhaps she would prefer to be down in the fray, but she's good at watching; she watched for years before she was old enough to take flight. Her senses tell her that these men have fought together for a long time and built up a bond of trust. Her eyes track how Vyland immediately moves in to block any attack and how Wolf's barked orders are quickly obeyed. She recalls Sedgar checking everyone's equipment, back at camp. Roshea disappeared early in the battle to see to his assigned mission, an impressive skill in itself. And Hardin…he's a mysterious one. With a mysterious mount, too – Minerva didn't see that horse stabled anywhere. She just seemed to appear when he whistled into a blade of grass. She gets a bit distracted, thinking about the fascinating new creature. About as fast as a pegasus, on open ground. A heavier, stockier build – the blows from her hooves must be deadly, when she can get in a position to use them. Warm brown coat, blonde mane; impossible coloring for a pegasus, which are all white or, rarely, black.

[Vyland's trait revealed: Coyote's Devotion: You will stand unbowed under a hundred blows for the sake of your softer companions. When you fall, you know they will return the favor. While you are still undefeated, all enemy attacks against your allies are redirected to you, if feasible.]

[Wolf's trait revealed: Coyote's Leal: You are always by his side. Your sharp eyes are always watching. +5 to all rolls made by Hardin or the Wolfguard while you are present.]

[Sedgar's trait revealed: Coyote's Duty: A battle is won in the little things, sometimes days before. During a Paralogue, no rolls made by anyone can critically fail if you have been maintaining their equipment. Critical failures instead have their level of success increased by one step.]

[Hardin's trait revealed: Epona: The best of horses. When you whistle, she trots up to you ready to ride, wherever you may be. +5 to national actions where speed of travel is a factor. +5 to combat when mounted. ???]

Caeda signals nervously – she wants to help the others – but Minerva tells her to hold. The Wolfguard can hold out against these few, she judges. But that balance will change, and she wants to be ready when it does.

[Wolf and Sedgar vs. Vanguard Dragoons; Martial: 91 + 28 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) = 124 vs. 10 + 16 = 26; Critical Success!!!]

Her intuition is correct. These are skilled archers; now that they've found their rhythm, they focus their fire on one, then another, then another, until three more wyverns have fallen. If they are not dead, at least they won't be leaving this place without help. Just in time: the second wave is rising from the fort. Seven opponents. Her eyes track their paths. Most of them are descending on the Wolfguard, a net of steel and claws; she finds herself wishing them well, before turning her attention to the single dracoknight riding her way. He wears wyvern-scale armor, too, and his tough old green bears the scars of many battles. Ruben.

He is flying straight at her. Minerva feels her blood start to race; she's finally about to give Hauteclere its proper baptism. She wrestles that heady feeling into its proper place. She is here as a commander. She is not alone. Caeda is gripping her lance already, with the anxiety of the untested, waiting for orders. Minerva is not arrogant enough to think she could not benefit from the girl's help, but her girlhood will not stop Ruben from killing her.

[ ] Fight Ruben with Caeda

[ ] Send Caeda to assist the Wolfguard
 
Fangirling over BSFE Part 4: It's About Trust
[X] Fight Ruben with Caeda

Target the leader, Minerva signals. Be cautious. Caeda nods acknowledgment, re-hanging her lance and drawing a javelin. Minerva keeps an easy pace, refusing the urge to spur Leonidas. Let Ruben tire his wyvern, coming to them.

She raises her voice to cross the space between: "You have one chance to surrender, Ruben! Or I will strike you down as an enemy of Macedon."

He does not bother responding, but she can see him raise his head into the wind to glare at her, contempt in his eyes. It distracts him – he is not able to avoid Caeda's javelin, which scrapes across his wyvern's scales and causes a shudder in flight, though it does not impact with enough force to truly penetrate.

[Caeda vs. Ruben, Martial: 31 + 17 = 48 vs. 11 + 27 + 8 (Wyvern Scale Armor) = 46; Bare Success]
[Ruben vs. Minerva, Martial: 44 + 27 = 71 vs. 65 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) + 8 (Red Scale Armor) = 129; Solid Failure]
[Minerva vs. Ruben, Martial: 88 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) = 144 vs. 07 + 27 + 8 (Wyvern Scale Armor) = 43; Critical Success]

Caeda keeps her distance, sweeping up and over to wheel back around for another shot; Ruben lets her, more focused on Minerva. His lance rockets forward, a powerful throw giving it the upward momentum to reach her. Unfortunately for him, she was expecting that move. A perfectly-timed beat of Leonidas's wings takes him soaring up, harmlessly over the lance…and directly over Ruben.

Then he drops. Deadly claws descend on the rider and gain purchase; cracking through armor plates and gouging flesh. His urge is to lean back, bringing his prey up closer to his head so he can bring his teeth to bear. But Minerva has him lean forward instead. She pitches herself over his shoulders, an expanse of scaled flesh open beneath her, and if Hauteclere's haft is not quite long enough to reach, well, dracoknights tie their weapons to their arms for a reason. She thrusts the axe down, and its golden spines bite deep into the wyvern's shoulders. Four voices scream in pain and triumph.

[Using Hauteclere: 3/9 Successes]

No other voice joins them. Not yet.

After an endless, bloody moment, Ruben's admirable mount manages to get free, through the influence of gravity more than anything else. The two wyverns part with a wet tearing sound. Minerva drags her arm up, fingers finding Hauteclere's tether, beginning the process of getting the haft back in her hand for another attack.

[Caeda vs. Ruben, Martial: 88 + 17 = 105 vs. 48 + 27 + 8 (Wyvern Scale Armor) = 73; Success]
[Ruben vs. Caeda, Martial: 01 + 27 = 28 vs. 84 + 17 = 101; Critical Failure]

Only for a pegasus knight to dart in, seizing the moment. Tsubaki threads the needle between two wyverns, and though Minerva would chastise them for flying recklessly close to an ally again, she has nothing to criticize in the way Caeda plunges her lance into the wound Hauteclere opened, momentum carrying it bone-deep. Ruben's lance drops from nerveless fingers. It falls out of sight, torn tether streaming like a maiden's hair.

Leonidas wheels; Minerva hefts her axe. Ruben's armor is cracked; blood streams down his face and the scales of his wyvern; the haft of Caeda's lance shivers with its pained breaths. He growls defiance, drawing his axe, a second weapon. They ready for another pass. It will be the last one.

[Minerva vs. Ruben, Martial: 19 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) = 75 vs. 47 + 27 + 8 (Wyvern Scale Armor) = 83; Bare Failure]

Ruben catches Hauteclere between the haft and blade of his own axe. "Arrogant pup," he spits at her, in the moment they are close enough for spitting. "I've seen more battles than you have years. And you think you're enough to kill me? You think you're enough to order me around?"

[Ruben vs. Minerva, Martial: 31 + 27 = 58 vs. 93 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) + 8 (Red Scale Armor) = 157; Critical Failure]

"I know I am." Leonidas's fangs bite down on his wyvern's throat. Minerva is watching his eye – the one not crusted shut by blood – to see the moment he winces as the pain reaches him through his implants. In that moment of his slackening, she pushes his weapon back with a surge of strength – then withdraws, re-angles. Her next strike catches his blade on one of Hauteclere's idiosyncratic notches; her arc forces it down and to the side, leaving him open. The strike after that sees Hauteclere buried in his chest.

[Using Hauteclere: 4/9 Successes]

The green wyvern screams and rolls. Minerva and Leonidas grip tightly to each other and the enemy. The world turns around and around, until the jangling tumult ends in a blood-soaked crash.

[Avoiding injury, Martial, Difficulty 75: 39 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) + 8 (Red Scale Armor) = 103; Success]

Leonidas's desperate wingbeats blunt the impact. Their defeated opponents tear a divot into the earth nevertheless. Minerva hears the green wyvern snarl again as Leonidas resumes savaging it. If it is not in its death throes yet, it must be close. She lets go of Hauteclere and clambers closer to Ruben, hands on his shoulders, forcing him down. His eyes are hazy with pain. Before he leaves this world, she leans in close, hoping he will hear her words: "I want only one more thing of you, Ruben. Tell me why you abandoned Macedon."

"Heh…Macedon…" He coughs. "Funny how you can say that name with any respect…I used to belong to a real country, you know. One with history, and glory. It died with all the rest."

Minerva scowls. "So you think nothing of Iote's dream, then?"

"Iote was a great man! You're not fucking," he coughs, spitting blood, his temporary fury too much for him to maintain. "…not worthy…to say his name. He stood against tyranny. With your tyrant brother as king, his dream is dead now. Who could stand to live in Macedon anymore?"

She shoves against him, drawing a pained grunt. "My brother's no tyrant!"

"What else can you call a man who kills his own father to sell out his people to aliens? A Quisling?"

She runs that sentence through her head, once, twice. It doesn't make any sense, even though she recognizes every single word. "…What?"

"Oh…Hah!" He coughs again. Pressed so close, she can smell the death creeping up on him. "I always thought you were a bootlicker, Minerva. But it turns out…you're also…a complete moron…"

She leaves him. The disrespect, the baffling lie in his last words – it eats at her like acid, makes her chest heave, but she will bury it for now. There is a battle going on, and she is still well enough to fly. She and Leonidas pry themselves free from the corpses and take flight.

[How have the Wolfguard fared?]

[Wolfguard vs. Ruben's Dragoons, Martial; 05 + 28 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) + 5 (Epona) = 43 vs. 33 + 20 = 53; Failure]
[Ruben's Dragoons vs. Wolfguard, Martial; 51 + 20 = 71 vs. 34 + 28 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) + 5 (Epona) = 72; Bare Failure]

The Wolfguard seem to have succeeded in leading the dragoons on a chase, but the enemy's numbers are telling. They cannot run forever. It's too bad for everyone involved that Minerva is no longer in a good mood.

[Caeda vs. Ruben's Dragoons, Martial; 01 + 17 = 18 vs. 03 + 20 = 23; Critical Failure but the enemy can't really capitalize on it]
[Minerva vs. Ruben's Dragoons, Martial; 54 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) = 110 vs. 95 + 20 = 115; Bare Failure]

Caeda is on the ground. What is she – she's trying to pry her lance from the wyvern. Idiot girl! She's leaving herself perfectly open to attack! Minerva has Leonidas sweep back down and yells, "Get back in the air! You're vulnerable!" As she scrambles to obey, Minerva blasts through the middle of the enemy formation. Wyverns scatter in all directions, aborting their attacks to focus on this new opponent. She hisses through her teeth in frustration. She really wanted to hit something.

[Wolfguard vs. Ruben's Dragoons, Martial; 25 + 28 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) + 5 (Epona) = 63 vs. 03 + 20 = 23; Success Solid Success]

The Wolfguard archers take advantage of the temporary lull to sight arrows and fire. A dracoknight trying to switch directions falls from the sky.

[Ruben's Dragoons vs. Minerva, Martial; 93 + 20 = 113 vs. 85 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) + 8 (Red Scale Armor) = 149; Failure]
[Minerva vs. Ruben's Dragoons, Martial; 99 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) = 155 vs. 71 + 20 = 91; Solid Success]

[Using Hauteclere: 6/9 Successes]

A nest of beating wings descends on Minerva and Leonidas. All they give her is an opportunity to strike at them. Hauteclere splits scales and red teeth tear flesh. When the pass ends, Minerva is breathing heavily, euphorically. She remembers to check on her wingmates and finds Caeda still trying to gain altitude and find her angle.

[Caeda vs. Ruben's Dragoons, Martial; 07 + 17 = 24 vs. 64 + 20 = 84; Solid Failure]

All she has left are javelins, and she's just wasted another one with a throw that was never going to make it. Minerva was green too, once, but oh God, that doesn't make this any less painful to watch.

[Wolfguard vs. Ruben's Dragoons, Martial; 93 + 28 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) + 5 (Epona) = 131 vs. 17 + 20 = 37; Critical Success]
[Ruben's Dragoons vs. Wolfguard, Eliminated by Critical Success]

The Wolfguard, on the other hand, know exactly how to recover their lost momentum. More wyverns fall under a rain of arrows and the dragoons that dive in to attack find nothing but death. Minerva watches as Hardin's flashing sword disappears into a diving wyvern's open maw. The wyvern chokes and thrashes. Hardin spurs his horse to speed up; hand and sword pull free in a spray of mixed fluids. That went into the brain, she judges. Very skillful.

[Ruben's Dragoons vs. Minerva, Martial; 60 + 20 = 80 vs. 87 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) + 8 (Red Scale Armor) = 151; Solid Failure]
[Minerva vs. Ruben's Dragoons, Martial; 19 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) = 75 vs. 42 + 20 = 62; Success]

More of the dracoknights stay in the sky, circling her. Are they scared to approach? Poor them. She's not. The wind screams as she chooses a knight yet unwounded and scores a clean hit against their torso. Perhaps their armor will save them from death, but she has managed to break the encirclement. She does not truly fancy the thought of being ganged up on, not when she's thinking with her whole head.

The enemy morale is breaking. They must have seen the green-armored corpse of their leader, sprawled out on the ground; they must have counted their dwindling numbers. The first to flee is another red dragoon. The second to flee is a black.

[Caeda vs. Fleeing Dragoons, Martial; 82 + 17 = 99 vs. 51 + 20 = 71; Success]

[Minerva vs. Fleeing Dragoons, Martial; 19 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) = 75 vs. 25 + 20 = 45; Failure]
[Using Hauteclere: 7/9 Successes]

Caeda remembers the plan, bless her. She heads them off. Minerva would join her – pushes Leonidas to join her – but he is shuddering, again. The distance between them is growing.

Red wyverns are strong and aggressive, with fine teeth and claws. They are not, however, able to fly for ages without tiring. If they descend now, Minerva knows it will be a long time before he is able to take flight again.

Keep pushing. A little longer.

[Fleeing Dragoons vs. Caeda, Martial; 31 + 20 = 51 vs. 41 + 17 = 58; Bare Failure]

They see a lone pegasus knight and think to quickly knock her out of the way. She acquits herself admirably, however, darting and weaving around their attacks, always seeming just on the verge of being defeated. Perhaps she is, but it keeps them from truly cutting loose.

[Caeda vs. Fleeing Dragoons, Martial; 21 + 17 = 38 vs. 72 + 20 = 92; Solid Failure]
[Minerva vs. Fleeing Dragoons, Martial; 85 + 41 + 15 (Wings Obscuring the Sky) - 10 (Tired Mount) = 131 vs. 57 + 20 = 77; Solid Success]

…For a time. Eventually, the thought enters their heads – why bother with her, when the archers behind us are the real threat? Why not just push a little higher and soar away?

Leonidas catches up to them before they can act on it. He descends on the black rider, disdaining the heavy scales of the mount for an easier target; his talons hook under a helmet and cast it away; with another sluggish blow, they wrench through hair, scalp, and skull.

More. One more!

His wingbeats take her within range. One of her own javelins tears a hole through the red wyvern's wings. It shrieks, starting to lose altitude. It won't be a fatal landing, but it's not flying away – a rider can finish them off later. Leonidas heaves her back, to where the Wolfguard fight.

[Wolfguard vs. Ruben's Dragoons, Martial; 93 + 28 + 5 (Coyote's Leal) + 5 (Epona) = 131 vs. 43 + 20 – 20 (Diminished and Breaking) = 43; Solid Success Critical Success]

They are just mopping up. A last few dracoknights are attempting to flee, but Wolf and Sedgar's arrows put an end to that plan. Mindful of her duty, Minerva counts the corpses before landing: ένα, δύο, τρία…δέκα. Ten wyverns on the ground, when there should be eleven. Their scales are bright and the terrain is flat; the skies are clear – where? There's nowhere to hide on this blasted lea! The only break in this flat horizon is the tower itself!

…Of course. With gratitude, Leonidas accepts her command to descend. They land just outside the fort, Caeda following. Minerva unties herself from the saddle and hops down, Hauteclere in hand. "Leave your pegasus to rest," she tells the girl. "We can handle the rest ourselves."

"It's not done?" Caeda asks in confusion, noticing the axe still held ready in her hand.

"We're missing one wyvern," Minerva tells her, "and this is the only place to hide." They enter the earthen fort. Its hide door is pinned up, ajar, letting in the daylight. Minerva scans the entrance room. A few tables, cushions, bedrolls, a smouldering hearth; this was where the inhabitants did their living. A wooden ladder leads to the watchtower; Minerva doubts a wyvern could hide among its rickety wooden scaffolding, so she leaves it be. Instead, she scans the walls, the shadowed corners – but finds nothing and no one of interest.

"There's usually a cellar," Caeda offers. "The entrance would be outside, I think."

So they search the perimeter and find a pair of wooden doors, recently thrown open. Minerva crouches down to peer into the dimness. Three pairs of eyes glare back at her.

One, a violet pair, belonging to the wounded wyvern, which has squeezed its narrow body into this place and pooled in the sloping back like a liquid. It hisses.

Two, a green pair, belonging to a grubby woman with a hairstyle that was probably something to admire when she first fixed it this morning. She looks up at Minerva and Caeda with tentative, oft-betrayed hope.

Three, not technically a pair, belonging to the wyvern's eye-patched rider. She looks just as tired as everyone else, but her hand is steady as she holds a knife to the villager's throat.

There is also the raccoon, Roshea, but he is bleary-eyed, and the violet dragoon is kneeling on his chest for good measure. He is within easy throat-slitting distance, and won't be of much help. From the scorch marks on his fur, Minerva suspects he was struck by lightning, too.

The violet dragoon lets out an ugly little chuckle. "This really is a rotten day."

"It's you!" Caeda cries. "The mage dragoon!"

"What a coincidence that we should meet again. One could almost call that the basis for a friendship." The thin layer of false sweetness cracks to reveal the tension – the desperation – beneath. A cornered animal needs to be handled carefully, Minerva thinks. Wyverns can be deadly in their death throes, and wyvern riders take after them. "Now, since we're friends, that means we can make a deal, right? There's no need for anyone else to die today. This lady and the little wolf, you can have them back."

"Raccoon," the captive corrects her, very quietly.

"He's a raccoon, actually," says Caeda.

"Raccoon…" mumbles Roshea. "I'm a raccoon."

"Wha—isn't he a part of the Wolfguard?" Neither her knife nor her gaze waver as she hisses her question.

"It's a common misconception," Caeda explains, ever-helpful, "but the Wolfguard is actually named after—"

"I do not care! I could not fucking care less!" the dragoon roars. Deciding to just ignore the girl, her eye bores into Minerva. She pleads, "I just want to go free with my wyvern. That's fine, right?"

Minerva stares down coldly. "And where do you think you'll go if I let you?"

"Anywhere! I –" she masters herself. "Hmph. I could say I'll return to my family or leave to seek my fortune in the City, or devote myself to Naga and become a fucking hermit, but you wouldn't believe me, would you? You know I'll say whatever it takes to live through this day. So…you're just going to have to trust me." She tries to give Minerva a winning smile. It instead comes off as rather demented.

[Can Caeda salvage the situation? Diplomacy, Difficulty 50: 66 + 14 + 30 (Do you believe in love?) = 110; Critical Success]

"…I trust you," Caeda says. The dragoon immediately shoots her a look that suggests that she thinks that that statement is a lie. "You don't really want to hurt that woman, do you?"

"I will. I swear, I will kill her—"

"Mm-hm, you'll kill her if you think it's necessary to survive. But you haven't killed Sir Roshea, even though you've had plenty of opportunity." The dragoon looks down at the Uplift for a moment, as if asking, Why didn't I do that? Caeda smiles. "What's your name, sir?"

"…Zanza. I don't – what's your point?"

"My point is that you're not an evil man, Zanza. What were you doing with these bandits, anyway?"

"Zanza swore to follow Ruben in battle, along with the rest of the wing. It's a common custom in Macedon." Minerva tilts her head. "Also, I'm pretty sure she's a woman."

"Wait, really?" Caeda peers deeper into the cellar. "Are you a man or a woman, Sir – ah, Zanza? It's hard for me to tell."

"Yes, that's the idea," Zanza agrees.

"I am fairly certain that you used to ride a pegasus," Minerva points out.

"Oh, pegasi and me don't get along well these days," Zanza says flippantly.

"I have never heard of someone losing the ability to ride a pegasus," Minerva starts to argue, before being interrupted by the hostage, who hisses out a sound of exasperation.

"Is this relevant?" she asks.

"…So, the thing about Commander Ruben is…" Zanza begins, then sighs, sinks their knife into the earth (the Aurelian woman untenses, sinking her face into her hands), then begins again. "I – owe him a lot. Owed him. He took me in, when I had a wyvern chick and nothing else in the world, and he sponsored me to get the implants and showed me how to use them. I'll admit, that was a lie about going back to my family. I'm not going back to that house. So when he had his fit of political pique, what else could I do, but follow Commander Ruben to the ass-end of Archanea?" They look at the villager they were recently holding hostage. "I'd say, 'no offense,' but you already hate me regardless, so…offense was meant! Your country sucks!"

"Drink piss and die, Macedonian bandit," the woman replies.

"Hold on," says Roshea. "Are you going to get off of me?"

"I don't know," Zanza asks mockingly, "am I, little wolf?"

Minerva sighs. The conversation is once again getting off track. Leaving Hauteclere behind, she drops down into the cellar, surprising everyone else inside. "What I'm hearing is that you don't object to my brother as king, Zanza. Is that correct?"

Zanza shrugs. Then, as if physically repressing the urge to be irreverent, they look Minerva in the eyes and say with painful sincerity: "I do not care who sits on the throne of Macedon."

Minerva holds out a hand, and they take it, standing up. (Roshea lets out a wheeze and tries to scramble out of the way). "Come back to Macedon with me, and I'll see what I can do for your wyvern."

"Its name is Lægjarn, and I'm perfectly capable of treating its wounds myself," Zanza announces. "…But thank you for the offer anyway."

[New hero recruited: Zanza, one-eyed dragoon mage!]

[Are you forgetting anything else? Intrigue, Difficulty 40: 33 + 10 = 43; Success]

They walk out into the open to find the Wolfguard stacking bodies and wrapping wounds or, in Vyland's case, daubing wounds with dirt. "Roshea!" the Goron greets them. "Was that the only captive? Sure took you a while to find her."

"Do you have any water?" the woman asks. As the Wolfguard take care of her, Minerva finds Sedgar – the machine-man – over by the pile of corpses. He is systematically searching and looting each one before heaving it onto the growing pile. He's building quite a stack of boots.

"I want a share," Minerva says. "Three-tenths. And one-tenth for Caeda, here." Hearing the girl begin to protest, she turns her head and firmly says, "Caeda. When someone is offering to pay you, you let them. And when possible, establish the shares to be paid ahead of time. Many an expedition has fallen to infighting over a minor bauble."

When he speaks, Sedgar's voice is eerie, grating, with a metallic edge. "Take your pick of the bodies. There's not that much here, anyway. But everything in the fort belongs to Aurelis." He begins to walk away.

"Go look at that pile, pick a quarter of it for yourself," Minerva tells the young pegasus knight in a soft voice. Uncertain, she creeps over – closer to the barely-clothed bodies – avoiding looking at them, until she does, and then she stands there for a few moments as the enormity of what she's done today hits her all at once.

Minerva was expecting something like that. She places a hand on the girl's shoulder and gently turns her until she's facing a clean spot of grass to be sick on. She gives Caeda another comforting pat. "First battle? This happens to everybody. Don't worry." Then she ambles off after Sedgar.

The eerie machine-man has found another fallen wyvern. The rider is long dead, but the beast is still moving. As she watches, he circles around its lashing jaws, drawing a sword; he attempts to jam the blade between the ribs, but it penetrates only weakly. He'll never make any progress that way; it's where the scales are thickest. Minerva crouches in the grass. As the dying beast cranes its head to look at Sedgar with hateful eyes, she springs forward, hacking deep into its angled neck. With one more heave, it is done and dead.

"…Thanks." She can't read Sedgar's expressions at all behind that featureless faceplate. There might not be a face there.

"It's no problem." She unworks the ties holding the rider to the saddle and Sedgar hefts the body and begins dragging it back to the pile. Even after she's claimed all the loot to be had from it. "I'll also be taking the skulls," she mentions.

Sedgar stops. It's odd – his movements look mostly normal, but he can just stop, and stay that way, where a human or animal would relax into a more natural position. "Come again?"

"I'll cut off their heads. My brother, the king, would want me to bring them home. As proof of their fate."

"I understand. But Coyote mentioned something similar."

"You all can have the wyvern skulls. I'm sure your countrymen will find those much more impressive." Since he doesn't seem inclined to resume, Minerva hefts the body – with much more effort, how strong is he – and starts dragging it herself. "Is that acceptable?"

"I'll ask Coyote." He is polite enough to help her carry the body the rest of the way; he does not help her with the rest. The rudeness makes her sigh, but it confirms her theory.

She may be the least intelligent of her siblings, but she is not – burn in hell, Ruben – a complete moron.

---

Minerva stays the night at the fort. She is eager to leave, but the hour is too late, Leonidas and Lægjarn need their rest, and there is work for her to do. She and Zanza build a campfire and spend hours hacking off heads and immersing them in boiling water, until the flesh falls off the bone. When they are done, a stack of ten skulls lie drying and a thick, wet layer of metallic slurry (and several larger bits) lies at the bottom of the fort's larger cookpot.

"I don't think anyone should use this pot to make food ever again," Zanza mutters, looking rather green. For all their dark humor, it's clear that doing this to fallen friends and comrades has been difficult for them.

Minerva takes the pot and, for good measure, starts shoveling burning matter into it with a fire poker. This releases a cloud of steam and an evil smell, but the flames remain burning. They burn green now, though.

She kicks the pot into the fire and sighs. The exertions of the day are finally catching up to her. "I think that's good enough, if we let the fire go until it burns out. Go get yourself something to eat, Zanza. And bring me my bedroll. I feel like sleeping under the stars."

"Not too close to the fire, I hope," the dragoon mutters. "That smoke can't be good for you. Oh! Is that food?"

[Who arrives to bring supper to the wyvern riders, and stays to talk with Minerva as she keeps her vigil?]

[ ] Roshea, the Raccoon, the cutest little guy in Aurelis
[ ] Hardin, the Coyote, who always has a trick up his sleeve
[ ] Caeda, the Heart of Talys, who believes in love
[ ] Wolf, Coyote's Loyal Shadow, the eerie and intense namesake of the Wolfguard
 
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Fangirling Over BSFE Part 5 + Light Under a Bushel
[ ] Wolf, Coyote's Loyal Shadow, the eerie and intense founder of the Wolfguard

Wolf is standing there. How quietly can he move? In the dusk, he sinks too easily between shadow and firelight, his wasted, translucent flesh simply eating up the light around him. Minerva does not like him. He does not put her at ease. But he is holding bowls of soup, and the Wolfguard have shown her honor so far. She silently calls to Leonidas, just in case.

The dozing wyvern wakes, stretches, ambles closer while she greets the Aurelian archer. He looks her straight in the eyes as he slurps first from one bowl, then the other. Only then does he hand the soup bowls to the wyvern riders.

"Thanks, chum. I've hardly ever had a meal where the cook was so polite as to prove they hadn't poisoned it," Zanza chatters. "Did you use the noodles? I'm kind of growing to like the noodles you folk make. Oh, and there was this thing of alcohol that the Commander was saving--"

"You're pushing your luck, bandit," is all he says. Wolf is clearly not a patient or talkative man.

"Did you break into the alcohol or not? Whatever, I'll go check for myself." They push past Wolf with affected casualness – Minerva sees him immediately pat all his pockets afterward. Everything must be in order, because he returns to looking at her, his brow furrowed unhappily. She feels immensely awkward, standing there with a bowl of probably-not-poisoned soup.

Well, if he has something to say, he can say it while she eats. She's too hungry to delay. Settling herself cross-legged on the ground, she brings the clay bowl to her lips and begins sipping. It is still hot, but not enough to burn her tongue.

Wolf stands there a bit longer. Eventually he sits down next to her, which surprises her. She expected him to walk away. Side by side, facing the fire, the two of them must look almost comradely.

"I do not trust you," he states.

"I could tell." Minerva continues sipping her soup. There are fresh herbs floating on top – has the Wolfguard managed some foraging today? She hadn't noticed, if so.

"You are a military leader of Macedon. You wield power both personal and political. You serve in the armies of the Dohlrian Empire. You are our enemy." He lets out a huff. "Your participation in battle today was calculated to bleed the Wolfguard more than you."

"That is all true." This is good soup.

"What exactly were you doing in Aurelis, besides looking for your deserters?" Wolf demands to know.

Minerva considers the fire a moment. It is still burning a little bit green. "What exactly would you have done with their corpses?"

He actually laughs a little. It is short and breathy, but there is some real humor in it. "You know perfectly well. Coyote was looking forward to getting a copy of your wyvern-taming tech. It's not often someone gets one over on him."

"Men who win too often can be poor at dealing with failure. It's a valuable life skill they lack." She thinks of her own brother. Just a little. Not enough to dwell on Ruben's words.

"Coyote's fine," Wolf snaps. It startles her, so she looks away from the fire and sees, for the first time, passion in that bloodless face. "He laughed. 'At least we know where to look now,' he said. And 'If the wyvern dead are ours, skin them, seems their scales make for good armor.' He is in good spirits. I, on the other hand, want to kill you."

She lets out a great sigh. Leonidas creeps closer, but she really is too tired for violence right now. "Did you poison the soup?" Maybe the herbs were the poison. He could have simply avoided them, floating on top as they were.

"No," he says, a little bitterly. "I was tempted. But it would have been…" He wrinkles his nose, searching for the right word. "…The opposite of virtue. Foolish, cowardly, and weak. No, Minerva. We will face each other in battle, eventually. And when that time comes," he smiles, "I think I can take you."

She finds herself smiling back. "You can certainly try."

After all the politics back home, the anger and stress of the people, Father's death and Michalis's recent distance, the heartache of slaying her own countrymen, it is so refreshing to meet someone who just straightforwardly says what they want of her.

"Thank you for your honesty, Wolf, and your company. I appreciate it." Minerva feels lighter, as if she's just made a new friend.

[Minerva and Wolf now support each other at Rank C!]

"Hmph," he says. But his seat looks more relaxed, as if he, too, has found some kind of relief. He lets his legs sprawl out, his glare soften; he gazes up at the stars, thinking some private thoughts. He looks more like an ordinary man than ever before. Just as she thinks that, however, she catches sight of something outlined in the play of shadow and firelight. The tilt of his head has made his hair fall back.

He has sharply pointed ears. Her brother's words echo in her head.

Aside from these flamboyant characters, it's possible that some dragons are simply quietly integrated into our society. Where do their loyalties lie now that Medeus has declared his empire? Might one agree to serve a human king?

Minerva's heart thuds. She fumbles around for some water to hide her reaction. Her drink helps cool her, somewhat. Gives her time to think. "Wolf," she asks, trying to be casual, "How old are you? You seem to have used the bow a long time."

He scoffs. "Why do people love to ask me questions like this? It doesn't matter how old I am or where I'm from or what my 'real' name is. I am Coyote's man and I lead his knights. That is all."

"…Most people have more to them than that. Even slaves had a life before they were slaves."

"I don't." There is so much complex emotion wrapped up in that short, earnest sentence. Minerva cannot even begin to decipher it. "I had no life before Coyote. Stop asking."

They sit in silence for a little while longer, but Minerva has no idea how to recover the atmosphere. Eventually she goes for seconds of the soup, and when she returns to her spot by the campfire, Wolf is no longer there.

Instead, Caeda is, wishing to discuss the splitting of the loot. She wishes to take only some spare weapons and good boots, leaving the armor and whatever small treasures they were carrying to Minerva. It is a fair arrangement and she only haggles a bit over the weapons.

[Insight from her loot choices, Intrigue, Difficulty 40; 27 + 10 + 2 (Wolf C) = 39; Bare Failure]

…Is Caeda planning to use all of those axes herself? Almost certainly not, Minerva thinks. She must be planning to give them to someone else. And those boots are definitely too big for her.

[Minerva acquires 2 Goods worth of loot from the fallen dracoknights!]

"I would like to see you again," Caeda tells her. "I…I'm very grateful for your teaching. I'm the only pegasus knight in Talys and there's so much I haven't learned. But, more than that, I feel that you are a woman of character, Princess Minerva. I would like to be friends."

"That may not be a wise idea," Minerva cautions her. "The next time I return here, it will be at the head of an army. If your king is so keen to make friends with Aurelis, I do not think we will be on the same side of that battle." The girl is so green, so tender. Minerva feels obligated to treat her with care. "I would not like to break your heart, Caeda."

The girl nods. "All that is sensible. Yet…if people on opposing sides won't talk to one another, how are we supposed to ever make peace?"

"Parley flags work pretty well."

Caeda smiles, as if Minerva had made a joke. "All right. But we're not at war yet. I will be representing Talys at General Camus's gala in Avistym. Might I see you there? Or Zanza? It will be good to see if they're adjusting well."

Minerva sighs through her teeth. "I was not planning to go. My siblings enjoy parties much more than I." Caeda looks so disappointed. "I will think about it."

When Minerva and Zanza part the next morning, laden down with loot and skulls, the pegasus knight sees them off with a friendly wave. She is the only one to do so.

---

[Intrigue: Interrogate Gharnef's Gift

Difficulty ?? 95

71+17=88, Bare Failure]

Congratulations to @Kingster for guessing the prisoner's identity. You're really, really good at this.

You are Michalis, and the Aerie is quiet. There are no guests, and the knights are out, either helping Matthis or Minerva with their assigned projects. You finally have the time to see to your…unwittingly acquired prisoner. The 'gift' from Gharnef. You know there's no real altruism in the gesture – it was calculated to tie you more tightly to Dohlr, give you a taste of the power that they could offer, or just as easily wield against you. Your skin crawls at the thought of how the Dark Pontifex infiltrated your castle. Did he stand over you as you slept, struggling to hold back laughter? Did he creep into your sisters's rooms, too?

You forge your fear into indignation, your indignation into sharp focus. You will not be gotten the better of, here. You will find the advantage in this. You enter the small cell where the prisoner has been kept. It is not uncomfortable – some people would count themselves lucky to get a private room like this. Yes, it's windowless, but most of the Aerie's rooms are; this place is tunnelled into a mountain. A small pile of books lies on the table, next to the wax stains that indicate he's been using a lot of candles. Right, Maria mentioned that she's been getting things from the library to keep him entertained.

The prisoner himself rises immediately when you enter, and bows. You say nothing at first, and simply study him. He is shorter than you, but most men are, with a young face. You estimate his age at twentyish. He looks you in the eye without fear. His eyes are a clear and striking blue; his hair is coppery red, trimmed to fall just above his shoulders. You like the look of him, that pale, tender skin. You imagine there's a world in which this handsome young man could have gotten tied up and helpless in your bedroom in a completely ordinary way, but of course fucking Gharnef loves ruining everything for everyone.

"Tell me your name," you order him.

"I am Saias Cohen," he answers in a soft, clear voice. "Am I correct in naming you King Michalis of Macedon?"

"You are." You take a seat on the lone chair. Saias sits on the bed.

"Did I say you could sit?" There is an edge to your voice. He gets back up. You search his face for uncertainty, for trepidation, but he is masking himself well. He seems completely serene.

"I would like to apologize for my discomposure when we first met, your majesty. And any I may have caused in you. For a few moments, I truly–"

You cut him off, having no desire to recall that horrifically awkward morning. "That is better off forgotten. There is no need to mention it further." The silence is still awkward.

"…Your sister, Princess Maria, has been taking good care of me," he ventures to say. "I would also like you to convey my thanks to her."

"I will do so. The question I've come here to answer is whether you are worth all that trouble. Why shouldn't I simply throw you from the Aerie, Saias Cohen?"

"It would be a logical move for you, requiring no effort on your part," he agrees readily. "Simply let me go, and I'll disappear from your life. Ah, but if you would be so kind as to transport me to my grandfather's house in the Holy Kingdom, I am sure you could collect a small ransom from him. He is a retired soldier and owns a good farm."

You raise one eyebrow high as it can go to express your withering skepticism. "This is all quite beneath a king's notice. Gharnef seemed to think that you would be of interest to me." From a sleeve, you withdraw the letter that was pinned to him when he arrived and place it on the table. Saias leans forward and you turn it around so that he may read it.

"'…valuable to certain factions in the Kingdom of Archanea.' Mm, I don't know what he's talking about there."

"You don't know." Your voice is flat with disbelief.

"My family is full of honorable soldiers, your majesty. My grandfather was part of King Adrah's armies from the first year, and now he is retired. My mother studied at Khadein to become a war-mage, and now she is dead, in the defense of her fallen kingdom. We are above reproach, but mostly beneath notice. I don't know what 'factions' there would want me. I think Gharnef is trying to manipulate you by invoking the rivalry between Macedon and the Holy Kingdom."

"So, what," you say, beginning to feel some irritation, at Saias and Gharnef both, for you're certain that you're being lied to from two corners, "the Dark Pontifex took time out of his busy day of unspeakable experiments and underhanded political maneuverings to infiltrate one of the most secure fortresses in all Archanea, solely to waste my time? Is that what you're suggesting?"

"No. I think, rather, I'm here as a hostage for someone else's good behavior." He looks up at you and, seeming a little concerned with the expression on your face, begins to explain: "You see, I am a citizen of the Holy Kingdom. But I have spent the last five years in Khadein, studying various topics. I became one of the favored students of Sage Miloah, who taught me the arts of healing and light magic."

"So Gharnef took you to ensure control over Miloah," you conclude.

"Perhaps he would have, but Sage Miloah is dead," Saias replies regretfully. "He tried to stand up to Gharnef and was destroyed for it. Sage Fjalar stood with him, and she survived with grievous wounds. I have been caring for her since then…until one evening I felt a cold hand seize my heart, and saw Sage Fjalar struggling to reach for me. Then I lost consciousness." His face is growing darker and darker. "He took me from her bedside to make a point, just as he deposited me by yours. He delights in attacking us through those things we cherish most."

He hates Gharnef. That is not surprising; everyone that has ever met Gharnef hates the man. But the vitriol in that voice, until now so pleasant, is something that takes you aback. This young man has seen Gharnef slay and torment his protectors, has lived under his terrifying rule. You think it would be fair to say he feels about Gharnef the same way you feel…about Medeus.

"Did you know that the prince and princess of Grust are currently 'enjoying' Gharnef's hospitality?" he asks you, suddenly piercing. "Children, only eight years of age. They arrived last year. Rumor has it they are the reason Ludwik marched on the Holy Kingdom. As we can observe, Gharnef has a few favored tricks. I wonder if your lovely little sister will soon disappear from her bed?"

You go cold. "…Return to the point, Saias. What are you doing here?"

"I am here because Sage Fjalar is the greatest warmage alive, and Gharnef wants her to serve him. Her wounds are well on their way to healing. She would be a potent addition to the forces of Dohlr." He shakes his head. "His forces, rather. I cannot truly believe that that man is loyal to anyone over himself."

"What makes you the key to Fjalar's loyalty? You're not her student."

"My mother was," he says softly. "There was some fondness between us, even before I spent months nursing her from the brink of death. At any rate, she has no advanced students left in Khadein. Sage Fjalar trains warmages, and those do not tend to shy away from the fight. They have all gone to serve in one army or another, and many of them are now dead."

"So," you summarize, "Gharnef's game here, according to you—"

"To the best of my knowledge," he hedges.

"To the best of your knowledge. Gharnef takes control of Khadein, killing or cowing the other sages. But he wants to ensure their loyalty and keep them from fleeing, especially this Fjalar. So he snatches up her nurse from her very bedside, sending him she-knows-not-where, but it's far away from Khadein. If she wants poor Saias to live, she'll do as he says. Meanwhile, Saias is deposited before the King of Macedon, who is told that he's a very special Archanean, and to keep him safe. The poor stupid wyvern-fucking rube obeys, cheered by the thought of getting one over on the so-called Holy Kingdom, and if the prisoner insists that he can't be used for such a purpose, well then he must be lying. Do I have the right of it, Saias?" You eye him, clearly not expecting an answer. "Don't think I haven't noticed some holes in your story. If you really are useless to me, Gharnef would know that there's nothing stopping me from releasing you once I find that out."

"I…I don't believe he has the highest opinion of your intelligence, sir."

You smile cruelly. "Is that the best you can come up with?"

He chooses not to respond.

You would like to get up and pace, but this is an extremely small room. You remain seated. "It's a convenient story," you muse, "one that, if true, would imply that I should release you. To save myself the trouble, and to deny that man a dangerous asset. I wonder if I should keep you a little longer, while I verify it."

"Go ahead," he replies, only the very smallest catch in his voice, so small you might have imagined it. "I'll tell you how to find my grandfather's house. You can interview him. Haggle over the ransom amount."

"And is this grandfather of yours the only source who can testify to your complete unnotability?" you ask playfully.

"Unnotable people tend not to be widely known, your majesty," he points out. "With my mother's death, he is my only living family. You could also ask around the Academy, I suppose. Your inquiries there would get back to Sage Fjalar eventually – ah, there's a way to blunt Gharnef's terror. Get in touch with her, by all means. Let her know that I'm all right."

"You haven't mentioned your father's family at all," you note.

"That's because—" he presses his lips together. "My father was a womanizer and a scoundrel. He was a student of Fjalar, too, and that's how my parents met. But he abandoned us long ago. I was very young. I hear he's left the continent altogether. You'll not get anything useful from him, even if you can find him." There is some bitterness there, or he's putting on a very good act.

You lean back, considering. He is lying to you about something, you're sure of it. But, whatever it is, is it really worth the time and effort of flying all about Archanea to track down all his contacts and interview them? What are the chances he can provide you with something really useful, anyway? Hm. There's a thought. He's a scholar of Khadein. Those normally cost a lot to hire. Even if his family is completely ordinary, he could be useful in and of himself.

…Notwithstanding his dubious loyalty. And the certainty that he will use any chance you give him to escape. "Say, Saias. What exactly did you study at the Academy?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Medicine and healing, mostly. But I've dabbled in other subjects as the fancy took me." You motion for him to continue. "History, Hylian studies, economics, applied theology. Light magic, as I mentioned before. I speak quite a few languages…Do you want me to work for you? If so, you'll have to pay me the same as your other staff. And I require one day off per week."

"Do you really think you're in a position to make such demands?"

"Well, your majesty, I am merely setting out the conditions under which I am willing to work, as in the beginning of a fair negotiation. To do otherwise would be slavery. Which, I am given to understand, is highly frowned upon in your country."

You sigh. "There's no salary, but as a member of my household you would have the right to sleep under my roof and eat at my table, and I would pay for the upkeep of your weapons, armor, and other equipment. Although, given the state of your hands, I don't think you'll be using much more than ink and vellum."

"Mm, actually, seeing as none of my magical foci were delivered with me, I will need to make new ones if I am to be useful to you as a mage. I have no experience casting Valentian-style. It's good to know that you're obligated to pay for that."

You purse your lips. "Will you require anything else?"

"There are several fasts and holy days for me to observe throughout the year. I am also a vegetarian, but Princess Maria has been wonderful at accommodating that."

[What are you going to do with this troublesome prisoner?]

[ ] Ransom him to his grandfather You don't really have the patience to dig into this man. You'll let him go and get a small sum for your troubles. It's what Gharnef doesn't want, so you'll content yourself with that.

[ ] Make him a full member of your household You would be over the moon to get a retainer like this in any other circumstances. However…(Get a Hero with excellent stats. Most of the information on his character sheet will be hidden, his loyalty will be dubious, and he will suffer a penalty to casting magic until you pay for new tomes and staves, which he may very well run away with).

[ ] Keep him confined, pending further investigation You don't like being lied to. You refuse to be taken advantage of. You intend to get to the bottom of this, no matter how long it takes. Saias will keep until then. (Intrigue actions will be available to investigate Saias's true past, and figure out how you can use him).

[ ] Question him more sharply You really don't like being lied to. It's time to get violent. (Make another Intrigue roll to discover Saias's secrets, at a lower difficulty. He will not be able to work as a Hero afterward. If there is anyone powerful out there who cares about Saias, this will not endear you to them.)
 
Turn 2: Maiden of Macedon
[X] Keep him confined, pending further investigation You don't like being lied to. You refuse to be taken advantage of. You intend to get to the bottom of this, no matter how long it takes. Saias will keep until then. (Intrigue actions will be available to investigate Saias's true past, and figure out how you can use him).

[Maria: Inquire after Sister Lena & Michalis: Move into your father's room & Break bread with Maria]

You have to think. You do have to think about it, the proposal offered by this demure snake. The potential he represents. You are Michalis – haven't you become great by taking wyverns and dragons close to your breast?

In the end, the comparison to a dragon is what kills it for you. It's not that you regret your deal with Medeus, but by the land you love, you don't need another of him. You'll not let Saias out of this cell, not until you know well and truly how to keep him on a leash.

You wear a gracious smile as you finally rise. "It's almost adorable how you think you can make demands of me."

Saias raises a single eyebrow. "You say that as if I didn't see you considering my terms, a moment ago."

Your smile grows slightly more vicious as you round the table and advance on him. "I do respect your confidence," you murmur. "I wonder what it would take to break you?" You savor the flash of fear in his eyes as he backs away, coming flush against the wall – you see him eyeing the door – "Come now," your hand on his shoulder, you dig your nails into his thin robe hard enough for him to feel it. You press your other hand against the wall, trapping him. "What do you think I'm going to do to you?"

He is smaller than you, weaker than you, bereft of the tools to cast his magic. And yet, even as you feel the quickening of his pulse, his hands stay still, his tongue stays still. He does not struggle. His mind does not drown in panic. His blue eyes flutter shut as if he cannot bear to look at you, but underneath the translucent lids, they still move as he considers. "This is a bluff," he eventually says.

"Correct," you reply without heat, removing your hands from him. "Whoever you are, you are worth more to me undamaged. Enjoy my hospitality, Saias. It's going to last a while longer."

You make arrangements to increase the guard on the prisoner's room. With that done, you find yourself with a long stretch of the day free. Hm, well, there's some other business you keep pushing off.

"Who's not doing anything today?" you call into the Aerie's main hall. A circle of men playing tavla look at you and then immediately try to pretend they hadn't. Perfect. "You four, come up to the royal apartments with me. I have furniture that needs moving."

"Uh, I actually promised my wife that I would go to the market and pick up a…something."

"Helping the king is a much better excuse for not doing that than playing dice games. You're welcome." You lean against the wall, exuding a bit of a casual air, an unbending order cloaked in just enough humor not to inspire resentment. The man sighs in surrender and follows his friends as you lead them up the many stairs to the uppermost chambers, where your father's bedframe and carpet need to be evacuated from his old room.

The bedframe, seeing as it's broken already and highly unwieldy to carry, you will chop up for firewood first. "What?" someone asks. "Seems a waste."

"My father bled to death on this. I'm not sleeping on it. Would you?"

"What about the carpet, sir? Are we burning that, too?"

"No, it's too valuable. I just don't like the way it looks." It is tightly-woven with dense floral designs in sheepswool, probably from Old Earth. But the field is bronze-yellow, and that is not your color. "Carry it down to the Vault."

[+2 Goods from liquidating King Osmund's beloved Turkish carpet!]

"What should I do, Michalis?" This voice is high and piping.

You blink. "Maria? When did you arrive?"

"I was taking a nap and you woke me up. You're moving into Father's room, right? I want to help!"

"Then go to my old room and start packing away everything that's loose. But don't touch the desk! I'll join you eventually." You turn back to the furniture movers – one of them is already approaching the bedframe with an axe. "Not yet! Not while it's on the carpet! We need to move the carpet out from underneath first…"

The process of getting a mere two pieces of furniture out of one room is finicky enough that it is a long time before you can join Maria. Thankfully, she has managed to refrain from causing any trouble; the boxes on your shelves have been pulled to the floor and filled with whatever was lying loose, while your desk has been left alone as you instructed. She is currently stuffing a drawstring bag with your bedding. Satisfied, you open your desk and start stacking leaves into neat piles. You do not want to lose a single one in this chaos.

"Hey, Michalis?"

"Yes, little one?"

"What's with that weird box on the top shelf? The one with the ropes and the ribbons and the bottle of oil and the jar of salve?"

You stare at her. You take another look at the bare shelves – yes, she is tall enough to reach the very top, now. You look back at Maria, who is holding up a tangle of scarlet ribbon by way of demonstration. You wonder if there's any way to gracefully avoid answering this question.

"I just don't really get what all of those things are doing in a box together," she explains.

You run your fingers through your hair and sigh. "…Maria. There are some things I simply cannot explain to you."

There is a moment of silence as she looks at you with suspicion. "Michalis, you're being weird about this."

"Ask your sister. She might tell you." You doubt it, but the ploy works and Maria drops the subject for now. Eventually the movers return and it is time for another round of shouted directions as furniture needs to be moved into the room, and then boxes and bags, and then you dismiss them to get back to whatever tasks they were procrastinating on before. Maria stays by your side as you start organizing your new abode. Though there are some things you want to unpack in privacy (you are still mortified that you forgot about that box) it is admittedly nice to have her quiet company and an extra pair of hands.

As she smoothes down the covers on a freshly-made bed, you pause to survey the environment taking shape. It looks completely different from this morning – your bed, your shelves, the ugly yellow carpet is gone, and your father's desk is ready to accept your papers. It is your place now, organized according to your standards, but it is not the same as your room from this morning, either. It smells fresh and clean. A break from the past.

You could almost believe that you never murdered anyone here.

You look down at a bloom of red. Maria is wrapping her arms around your waist, nestling her head into your abdomen. "You look like you need a hug, brother."

…What does that even mean? What do you look like? Well, this – this is fine. It's expected for you to feel some grief at your father's death. People would be suspicious if you did not appear troubled. You resist the irrational urge to check yourself for bloodstains, and instead put a hand gently on Maria's hair. You can feel some wetness soaking into your shirt. His death was hardest on her, of course. "He's gone now. And yet, we're carrying on. We're survivors, Maria."

"He's not truly gone," she insists. "He's waiting for us. And watching us, up there." Your clothes bunch up in her fisted hands. She knows you don't share her faith.

You rub her little shoulders. "Maria," you croak, your throat tight and painful. "I am sorry." You truly are. For her pain, for his pain, for the disgraceful way you repaid your father's love (for, whatever else could be said of him, he held love for his children). You would still do it all over again; a few people's pain is a fair price to pay for Macedon's future.

But you are sorry nevertheless. You pull her onto the bed and leave to get something soft to dry her tears. You even find a reason to dab a bit at the corners of your aching eyes. It's just Maria here. She won't begrudge you your tears.

"Stay here," she begs. "Can you please stay with me?"

"I can," you say. "I'll have dinner brought up. Drink something, Maria. I'll be right back."

You return with hot tea and hot food. Maria spends some time brooding tiredly over it, but eventually your coaxing drives her to eat. The food lifts her spirits somewhat, and the two of you speak of inoffensive things. The topic of the upcoming seasonal turn finally brings a spark of light back into her eyes.

"Oh, the Gala is approaching, Michalis! Can I come with you? Please? I've already started working on a new dress. I'm basing it off a photo in one of the old history books. I don't know what they wear in the Holy Kingdom, but it should be fine, since they're inviting people from all over Archanea."

You are tempted to promise whatever it takes to keep her smiling, but that would be foolish. "If you go, Maria, you won't simply be there to have fun. It will be a site of complex political maneuvering."

"Yeah, I know that. I want to help you with your political maneuvering or your spying or your…" she waves a hand, "special Saias ransom negotiations."

"Saias was frustratingly unforthcoming on his background. Hard to negotiate a ransom when we don't know who to ask. I wonder if I might find someone who knows of him there?" you muse.

"Yeah, see, that's something I can help with! I can just ask everyone if they know Saias. Like how I looked for Sister Lena." She nods, as if she's made a definitive point.

Your eyes narrow. "Yes. About that. You sent a letter directly to General Camus, didn't you? With her name and description. What else did you put in that letter?"

"Ah? Well, I introduced myself as your sister straight off; I didn't think he'd give me the time of day otherwise. And then…well, the letter was just about Lena. I wrote about her and how inspiring she is to me and what a skilled healer and so on. And how people in Macedon besides me are missing her, like her brother and…you."

Your eyebrows raise.

Maria keeps explaining: "Look, I know that the two of you don't always get along, but – but you don't hate her. Okay, maybe I lied a little bit, but that's political maneuvering, right?" Your eyes are already as wide as they can be, but you wish you could extend them further. "If Camus thinks she's important to the king of Macedon, then he'll be more enthusiastic about finding and protecting her. So I wrote about how you and Minerva were always with her and Matthis and basically I made you sound like childhood best friends."

Your head is in your hands. "I suppose that explains his sudden interest…"

"Um…Michalis? Brother? I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"

"You have a very sweet soul, Maria. You had good intentions," you mumble into your hands before looking up; she seems caught between confusion and concern. "Do you – do you understand why Saias is here?"

"Because Dark Pontifex Gharnef is weird and evil?"

"More specifically than that."

"He…wanted to play silly buggers with some of his enemies by kidnapping Saias from them, right? To make them scared of his power."

"To turn Saias into a hostage. Whoever loves Saias is forced to obey, or else."

As we can observe, Gharnef has a few favored tricks. I wonder if your lovely little sister will soon disappear from her bed?

You look at Maria, so sanguine and fragile. You think of Minerva, fierce as fire yet still mortal. What could you be forced to do by someone who held their lives in his hands? How far would you debase yourself rather than see their blood spill? You don't know the answer, and the possibilities scare you.

"Maria, politics can be complicated. But at its core, it is about what people want, and what they are willing to do to get it. With that in mind, information about what someone wants, what they value, is very valuable. If you know that, you can predict what they will do next. Do you follow me?"

She nods. "Yeah. I think so. I think…did I give out too much information? But I only wrote about Sister Lena, and I made her seem more important than she really is – so I gave them false information. This isn't bad for you, is it?"

"Not really. But it may be bad for Lena." She is still confused. "Maria. Listen closely. If you know what someone wants, you can predict them. If you have what someone wants, you can compel them. This can be as innocent as the merchant asking for coin in exchange for his wares, or as dark as…a loved one being threatened with violence. Saias is here because Gharnef wants to compel someone. What do you think the Sable Order wants with Lena Iotesdottir, beloved friend of the Macedonian crown?"

You see the moment her eyes widen, stricken. The moment she realizes she's placed her friend and hero in danger. "No! But, I mean, surely they wouldn't hurt her? We're allies with Grust, right? Surely Camus just wants to return her to Macedon, and, and then he'll ask you for something in return. Things don't have to be…all dastardly like you're suggesting."

"I would like that, Maria, truly." You and Lena have had a number of petty quarrels and you don't think you care if she lives or dies, but she is popular in Macedon. It will disturb the people if you don't help her out of a difficulty, not to mention Maria's distress. (Oh, and Matthis's too.) "But Camus's first letter to me was terse almost to the point of rudeness. He's showed no interest in becoming friends with me up to this point, so I find his enthusiasm in this matter suspicious."

[Maria's taken her first step into wider politics and learned an important lesson. +3 Intrigue]

Maria is wringing her hands, pressing patterns of red and white into her skin. You frown, but before you can summon up something comforting to say, she bursts out: "I'm sorry! But please let me try again. Michalis, if you take me to the Gala, I'll – I'll—"

"Why are you so fixated on this Gala?" you ask.

"Okay, it doesn't have to be the Gala! But I can deal with the spokesmen or the markets or the ambassadors. I know I'm still learning, but I'll get better! I can do anything but going out to fight, I can't – I won't do that. I have to do something, because you can't just keep doing everything yourself, Michalis! I'm worried about you!"

…You don't know how to respond. This outpouring of anguish, it stuns you. Maria has been pushing for more responsibility ever since you became king. You thought she was still too young. You thought you could distract her with the search for Lena. You thought she was motivated by foolish pride.

"Maria…I didn't know you felt this strongly. But you don't have to worry about me. Do you think I'm not up to the responsibilities of kingship?"

She takes great deep breaths. Tears have come to her eyes again. "You're always working, Michalis, always spending the day talking to some people and returning in a foul mood and storming out on your wyvern and then eating dinner with more people and then doing paperwork until I don't know what hour! You're not acting like my brother! This is the first time you and I have had dinner together since the night you returned from war…" She trails off into messy sobs, and needs to dab her face again before you can pull her into an embrace.

Is she correct? Well, to your memory, the two of you have eaten in the same room plenty of times this year, but the Great Hall is not exactly an intimate or quiet place. You suppose you'll add 'loneliness' to the list of pains you've caused her. "I'm sorry, little one…"

"You wouldn't even let me touch your desk today. Please, just let me help. Let me ease your burden."

Your burden. Kingship isn't your burden, it's your shining treasure and deadly weapon. It is a sword without a hilt, a glorious theatre stage covered in broken glass. But you cannot tell her that. She does not understand that you chose this. Kingship was something you saw, studied, and seized. From a practical perspective: what is the point of letting someone else wield your power when you are sure that you could do a better job?

Then again, your sister's tears make a persuasive argument in their own way. "Shh. I'll find something for you. I'll find a place for you to be useful. Just rest tonight."

"Can I sleep in your bed? In Father's room."

"That's fine. That's fine." You carry her – how is it that she can argue like a woman when you can still carry her even with one arm – flip aside the covers and roll her into the bed she made earlier this afternoon.

She clings as you try to pull away. "Michalis, please. You said you'd stay with me tonight."

"Maria, there are a few things I need to do, first." It's early yet, far too early for you to go to bed. Matthis sent back another report and you need to compare it with your maps, double-check his decisions, recalculate expected food yields.

"Father would stay with me," she counters, a petty argument.

"Father did not inherit a kingdom in crisis," you growl. Her hands fall away from you and retreat meekly under the covers. "Maria – I'm sorry. But I have to do this. I'll be back."

---

You are still at work, maps spread over the main room table (oh how you wish you had a copy of the census data!) when a shadow darkens the door. Minerva, carrying her luggage and still smelling of the Aurelian prairie, staggers in. She fixes you with a bleary gaze. "Eh?" she says, eloquently. "What happened to your desk? We eat there."

"Welcome back, sister." You're familiar with how flyers can get after a long journey – when making water crossings especially, sometimes stops can be more trouble than they're worth. You've flown for a day and a night before. You're all used to going on little sleep, but that's something Maria cannot understand. Aside from that, Minerva seems completely unharmed. "Things went well in Aurelis, then?"

"Things…went. A lot of things went. Some people came and then went." Right. You're not getting much out of her in this state. "I'll introduce you to Zanza…tomorrow. You'll like them. I think. They might piss you off."

"Zanza? That's the name of one of Ruben's dracoknights." It's an odd name. It had stuck in your head. Seems this scouting mission turned up some unexpected insights. "So at least one of them is alive?"

Minerva shuffles over to her room and you follow her. She begins shucking off her armor plates, and you take them from her because otherwise you fear she'll start dropping them outright and wake Maria. "One of them. The only one, now."

"What enemy took them?"

"Me. I slew Ruben myself." She holds your gaze, suddenly alive again. "He died cursing you for a tyrant, a traitor to Macedon."

"…I see." That's not ideal. But what a weak little rebel, who sought to disappear into the dust, without even the stones to denounce you to your face. You suppose it's only fitting that you only hear of this with his death. "You have my thanks for dealing with him. Do you know what his grievances were, exactly? It's the sort of thing that I need to keep track of – oh, never mind," you say, seeing her face twisted in some indescribable expression. "I'll get the whole story when you're less—"

"He said you killed Father. To steal the throne. And sell us out to dragons."

[Keep your cool: Diplomacy, Difficulty 45: 46 + 21 – 30 (Stress) = 37; Bare Failure]

Minerva's gauntlets clatter from your fingers to the ground. It's a true racket. Behind you, you can hear a sleepy call from your youngest sister: "Michalis?"

She can't find out. Neither of them can. They'll never forgive you. You'll have to—

Put those fears from your mind. Minerva is staring at you. It's not true. It's not true. For the rest of the night – from now on, when you are with your sisters, it is not true. It is all a despicable lie, told by Ruben.

(How did he know? How???)

From now on, you must be more careful.

"Michalis! Where are you? Are you still awake, you bastard?"

You hear her padding feet. "Forgive me, I need to check on Maria. We'll speak of this at a better time." You only catch a glimpse of her nod as you whirl away.

You catch Maria in your arms and push her back to your bed, murmuring apologies for your tardiness. She insists on dragging you in with her, into the warm sea of blankets, and wraps her limbs around you like an entangling weed – as if she thinks you won't stay. You do not make an escape attempt. You are, for once, a coward. You are, for once, too weak, and you do not want to escape this shelter until you have recovered enough to face the world again.

You dream of jewel-bright summer days with your sisters.

[A mechanic has been partially revealed: Michalis has a Stress level. High Stress makes his narration more unreliable, penalizes his ability to control his emotions, and might affect what options are available to vote for. Stress increases or decreases based on the actions you choose or story events. I will not explicitly mark which actions affect Stress, although the narration of their results usually makes it apparent. Michalis is currently stressed enough that it is visible to those who know him well. Certain personal actions can give more insight into this mechanic.]
 
Turn 2: News from Afar
[Seeing as you now have a diplomatic presence in all the nations sworn to Medeus, the quality of your information has increased dramatically. Not to mention that Minerva flew face-first into a major plot thread in Aurelis. Enjoy!]

Grust
Investigate Dragons
Occult
Success

King Ludwik has been researching dragons. You know this, seeing as you're his main collaborator. He knows just as much as you do, at this point, and is eager to find out more. The Fane of Raman awaits.

Gra
???
Intrigue

Armed resistance has ceased in Altea, for now. Princess Sheena remains in the occupied territories.

-Random Event Interruption!-
Roll: 68; 5
The occupation of Altea is going boringly well; no one wants to talk about it. Much more interesting is the winged airship that was forced to descend in Gra for lack of fuel. It carried a troop of heavily-armed mercenaries, who – much to everyone's relief – weren't interested in a fight, but rather simply lost. They were disappointed to hear that no one here knows where to find the town of Altair or the Kingdom of Fynn. The prevailing conclusion is that someone sabotaged their contract by giving them false directions.

Recruit the FF Battalion
Diplomacy
Partial Success

With most of their small army occupied (with an occupation, heh), King Jiol and Queen Guadalupe leapt on the chance to recruit these stranded sellswords. They quickly negotiated a new contract to the satisfaction of the leader, one Rad Spencer. He's made it clear that he only intends to stay in Archanea for a few seasons, refuel his airship, and leave – but for now, King Jiol is in possession of a force of hardened mercenaries whose technologically-advanced armaments are the stuff of whispered rumor.

The Holy Kingdom of Archanea
???
Stewardship
Bare Failure

The Holy Kingdom was the richest entity in the continent, and also the greatest producer of paper and books. Those two facts are related. Camus seems to have underestimated the vastness of the bureaucracy that it took to run Adrah's empire, and the volume of records that must be read to understand it. His Grustians aren't enough. He's currently trying to recruit more clerks from the streets of Pales. Though his efforts are meeting with some success, it will still be some months before he can resurrect whatever government apparatus he's staffing.

Repair the Millenium Court
Stewardship
Critical Success

Camus's engineers, however, know what they're about. The Millenium Court was badly damaged in the war, with fighting going on in its very halls (not to mention the bloody robbery that happened over the winter). With the help of an army of servants, torn tapestries are mended, burn marks are painted over, and shrapnel is swept up. It is said that the Millenium Court looks as beautiful as the day it was built.

Send out Invitations
Diplomacy
The most successful success that ever succeeded

It's all to prepare for the Gala, of course. The invitations are sent – as far as you can tell – to everyone. Everyone. Even Camus seems surprised by the response he gets, however. You don't have any eyes on his correspondence – pity, you'd love a copy of that guest list – but palace gossip has it that the plans for the event are being revised again and again as the scale keeps expanding. Perhaps even guests from beyond the sea or over the mountains are coming...

Khadein
???
Occult
Success

What? He actually did it? I set the Difficulty stupid high for a reason. I thought it would take a few turns at least…
Dark Pontifex Gharnef was out of the city for most of Flostym, occupied in some secret lab or other. A relief on one hand, but worrying on the other – you never want to be unaware of what Gharnef is doing. He deigned to inform his subjects, eventually, by appearing above the gates of the city, wreathed in a halo of painful un-light that burned the eyes without providing illumination, cloaked in robes made of the stuff of shadows. He said, verbatim, "AHAHAHAHA! I have now become invincible! INVINCIBLE! The ultimate power of dark magic is MINE! The secrets of the ancients are TOYS to be wielded as I wish! Kneel before me, Khadein!" After ten minutes of enforced kneeling, he let the people in the plaza go about their day and vanished in a dark cloud that stank of burnt hair.

Recruit for the Heretics
Diplomacy
Success

Gharnef involved himself in the governance of the city once more this season, by ordering everyone to attend mandatory religious meetings preaching the doctrine of his ridiculous cult. Quite a few people skip, or just attend and quietly pray to some other god, but a certain number do get taken in by the talk of attaining ultimate power (second to their draconic lords and masters, of course!).

Talys
Ally with Aurelis
Diplomacy
Success

Well, you don't have anyone in Talys itself, and you cannot be certain, but Minerva witnessed a very well-connected Talyan pegasus rider on friendly terms with an Aurelian general. King Mostyn is trying to ally with Aurelis to counter Dohlr's ambitions – you'd bet money on it.

Aurelis
Recruit Ruben's Dracoknights
Diplomacy
Failure

Wyverns are Macedon's, and Macedon's they will remain.

Pyrathi
Expel Refugees
Stewardship

Okay, so it seems that the archipelago cannot support that many refugees. They end up back in Port Galder or Port Warren (if their ramshackle boats even make it across the water). This does not help the stability of the so-called Holy Kingdom or the Samsooth Peninsula.

Establish Independence from Medeus
Diplomacy
Bare Failure

Has Holm Port ever seen a visit from foreign royalty before? You think King Mannu of Pyrathi might be the first. He descends from his ship, shuffling around with a cane, looking for all the world like a frail, grumpy old man surrounded by attendants. He disappears on the path to Dohlr and reappears several weeks later, looking even frailer and grumpier. He leaves swiftly, but not before making a proclamation, a copy of which is delivered to you in the Aerie: "Mannu of the Fire Dragon Tribe, Protector of the Pyrathi Isles and the sacred places therein, congratulates Prince Medeus of the Earth Dragon Tribe on his reawakening and ascension to the temporal throne of Dohlr. May he know health, wisdom, and strength. We acknowledge his rule of the dragon and human tribes of Archanea. May he use this power well."

Dohlr
???
Intrigue

A rumor reaches you. It is said that, in the rough mountains of Macedon, a pegasus herder who was watching her flock met with two strangers: an aged but sharp-eyed man and a woman with hair of palest violet. She shared her meal with them and passed an agreeable time, though she did think it odd that they had gotten to this isolated alpine meadow without wearing shoes. If that were all, you would not be hearing of it; plenty of strange things are seen by herders alone in the mountains. The significant part comes when the meal was done: the violet woman handed over a beautiful flower in thanks, and said to her companion, "You did wonderfully, Uncle!" Then they both turned into dragons and flew off.

???
Flee Dohlr
Success

Someone has found a refuge.

Lena
???
Stewardship

You don't hear any news of her.
 
The Demand
You apologize to Minerva. You were tired, and shaken by the news (she nods sadly). You get more sleep for a few days, if only because Maria is sleeping in your bed and clinging to you like a limpet, and you can't get out without waking her up. You start thinking of a project you can trust to your younger sister as the days warm and fruits start to ripen.

Then the envoy arrives, bearing the banner of Grust. His cloak is black, but his armor is blacker – this is one of the members of the famed Sable Order. He bears an impressive mustache. He is accompanied by a barefoot woman with hair of palest violet, and a bearded man wrapped in heavy robes. The woman is not dressed richly, but on her brow she wears a thin gold diadem set with a dark stone.

The party is odd enough that a crowd gathers to watch you receive them in the throne room. You search the gawkers for Matthis – there! – you grab him. "Is it her?" you ask. The excited chatter covers up your question.

"Yeah," he whispers, almost too scared to breathe – and not just because you're touching him. "That's her. The earth dragon."

You release him and go to your throne. Your sisters stand beside you. Maria looks so breathless; half-hoping, half-fearing news of Lena. Minerva just looks like she wants to give that power armor a poke. You give the Grustian knight a tiny nod.

He kneels. "Your majesty. I am Sir Sternlin, a knight in the service of King Ludwik of Grust. I bring a message, and a request."

"The messengers of King Ludwik are welcome here." Yes, but this is no simple messenger. They wouldn't waste a Sable Knight on letter-carrying, especially not when Camus insists on keeping as many as he can in the Holy Kingdom! Your gaze travels over the two others. "But your traveling companions do not carry any emblems. I would hear their names and allegiances as well."

Sternlin rises, and the woman steps forward. In a clear, practiced voice, she says, "I am Sigyn, daughter of Maera, who was hatched by Lord Loptous the magnificent and terrible. I am a Princess of the Earth Dragon Tribe, and I am here on behalf of my lord uncle, Medeus, to represent his interest in this meeting." While a low murmur sweeps throughout the room, she turns her head and motions to the last one.

The bearded man steps forward. "I am Xemcel…of the Mage Dragon Tribe. I…guard the prince." His pale eyes look at the gathered crowd with undisguised paranoia and disgust.

Sigyn lets him step back. "If you will pardon him, he does not speak much of your tongue. He is merely here to serve as my protection." You are not sure a princess who can turn into a dragon needs all that much protection, but perhaps it's a matter of principle. Or perhaps the manakete are not invincible. Unless someone tries to take a swing at her, who's to say?

"I see." You incline your head politely, to the dragon princess. "The messengers of Emperor Medeus are also welcome here. Especially ones so honored." You fix them all with a piercing gaze. "But you are not simple messengers, are you? This matter must be of grave significance. Shall we discuss it in a more private setting?"

"No need, your majesty," Sternlin replies simply. You see his lips purse, a little. "My orders are to deliver this wherever you receive me, and then be on my way." Orders, hm. The rumor is that Sable Knights are totally incapable of disobeying orders. They are apparently capable of disliking them, however. Sigyn's nervousness is even more visible.

"…Go on, then."

"In order to…" he has to pull a paper out and start reading from it, "In order to strengthen ties between the vassals of Dohlr, the Emperor Medeus is organizing an exchange. Highborn youth from each nation will travel abroad and learn from the other tribes of Archanea. In this way shall alliances be forged unto the next generation." Well, it's clear that not even he believes in the words he's reading.

Cringing, Sigyn cuts him off. "You have already welcomed a young nobleman of Adrah's kingdom, yes? One – what was his name – Saias Cohen?"

You regard her coolly. "Gharnef did ask me to hold on to someone by that name. I was under the impression that this was a matter of Khadein's internal politics – not that we were supposed to be swapping hostages like feastday gifts."

She continues nevertheless, holding onto a pained smile, "The good King Ludwik has asked for Princess Maria of Macedon, and my lord uncle finds the request suitable."

You hear Minerva's outraged scoff; and others' too. You quickly glance to your younger sister and see her looking disturbed.

Sigyn follows your gaze. "Is that--? No. No! That's a child! That's surely not what he meant!"

"Princess Yuliya and Prince Yubello have been in Khadein for a year now. They are younger than her," the Grustian knight says, an edge of bitterness in his voice.

Sigyn claps her hands together, unravelling. "But – ah, are you sure you don't, perhaps, have any other sisters? Your majesty?"

"Does it matter which one? You are asking for my sister. As a hostage. You dare?" Sigyn can't meet your eyes. Xemcel looks alert, but you doubt he really understands the conversation – he's just looking for a sign that violence will be necessary. You stare at Sternlin, and through him, Ludwik. What is his master's game, here?

He meets your eyes and his nervousness flows away. Suddenly he seems cold as snowmelt. He adjusts his grip on his spear. "I will not leave without her." You begin to understand why they sent a Sable Knight for this. Anyone else told to walk alone into a castle full of dracoknights and publicly announce that he was taking an innocent and beloved girl from them would have deserted rather than carry out such a suicidal mission.

…Yes, he was told to ask you in public, wasn't he? Where you have the most face to lose by capitulating. The crowd's outrage is still building, palpably. Instead of an intimidating display of force, they sent one knight. They sent one knight and two dragons. This isn't really Ludwik's play, is it? This has Medeus's stink all over it, his and Gharnef's.

You could tell them to pound sand. Sternlin would escalate to violence, of course – he has to. You doubt Sigyn will join him, and Xemcel seems like he will only act if the princess herself is threatened. One Sable Knight versus a room full of angry Macedonians is still a dead man.

…And then what? Screw Ludwik – if the man wants to attack you, he can try his knights against the most defensible terrain in all Archanea. But the possibility of Medeus's anger…worries you. The day he awoke, the entire plateau shook. Earth rippled like water.

You rise from your seat. The room quiets, waiting for your judgement. For your spark to the dry tinder filling this room. "You will not move from this spot?"

"I will return to Grust with a princess of Macedon, or not at all," he says cleanly, easily, as if it were an observable fact of the world. His utter calm is remarkable.

"Will you at least sit down in a waiting room of some kind?" you ask, putting on a façade of sarcasm.

"No." Oh, fuck all the gods. There's no way you're getting out of dealing with him publicly, is there?

"Then wait here," you tell him. "I am going to deliberate with my sisters."

The hubbub erupts again – you quickly signal to some of the Whitewings to keep some order while you're gone – and you return to your apartments with Minerva and Maria. It's a long walk, but you absolutely need privacy for this discussion, you don't care about Sternlin's comfort, and a long wait will surely cool some tempers down there. Perhaps some people will get bored and drift away. Less of an audience in case…in case.

"Michalis? What are you—" You shush her. "Michalis!"

"We can't talk about this in the halls, Minerva!"

As soon as the heavy lock thunks into place, Minerva releases all her pent up steam and demands: "MICHALIS! What do you think you're doing, here? What is there to deliberate?"

"I-I think—" Maria tries to say.

"The only reason to deliberate is if there's the slightest chance that you will actually accede to his delusional request! Why would any of us willingly go to be a hostage? What is this absurdity? Do they not even respect us enough to make us vanish with spooky dark magic? Is Gharnef on vacation? It makes no sense!"

"That is correct, Minerva. Gharnef could just kidnap one of us with dark magic," you agree tightly, standing fast in the tide of her words.

"They sent one man to take her from us! And he just walked in and asked! Are they trying to humiliate us?" she continues.

"They are trying to humiliate us, Minerva."

She has finally noticed what you're saying. "So then what's the point of all this?" she cries, with one last burst of anger.

"Medeus wants to know how well he has me on a leash," you say. Your voice is even, but the words leave such a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your sister tosses her head. "He ought to learn that we cannot be leashed. Yes? Michalis? Michalis, we can kill the knight and send the dragons back empty-handed. If they want to fight, well, Matthis told me that a dragon's not much bigger than a wyvern. And I've slain wyverns with this axe before." She pats Hauteclere.

"Minerva, think beyond today, please. Sigyn is not the one I'm worried about. You've never seen Medeus. He is longer than this room." There is more you wish to convey to her, but the words do not come. You have not much spoken of that day, the day the ground rippled like water. The day Lucrecia tried to flee. The day his voice ground into your bones. You were not even able to make your father understand, in the end.

She gives you a searching look. Are you getting through to her? "Brother," she says, "I know you're scared."

"What? No, of course not. Minerva, you're not taking this seriously—"

"I am. Michalis, who are we if we bow to a tyrant for fear of violence? Are we still the carriers of Iote's dream, then? How many slaves were stirred to flee here in order to protect their children, in order to keep families from being separated?" You don't have the words to respond. She has struck you in your heart.

Maria does: "Minerva…" She takes a deep breath. "I'm not a child."

The two of you both stare at her. "An adult is someone who does the work of an adult," you say. "You're not quite there yet—"

"Well, maybe that's because you haven't given me any work!" she bursts out, before immediately apologizing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But I…what I'm trying to say is, I don't want anyone to die because of me. If this is how I can protect Macedon, then I'll go. I'll go to Grust. And I'll come back someday."

"No!" Minerva cries. "Maria – dear one. I made a promise. If anyone ever were to touch you in anger, I would remove the offending limb. If any enemy were to strike at you, I would stand in the way. I cannot willingly let you walk into danger! Even if I must stand against dragons, I will stand in your defense!"

"Minerva, please!" her little sister begs.

"Minerva, do you think Medeus is going to offer you a duel? What do you think an earth dragon can do to people who live in a mountain?"

You've gotten her to be silent, at last. You've gotten her to think. "…You're actually going to agree, aren't you?" she murmurs, eventually.

It feels like a fist is clenching your heart. "I…don't know. I called this meeting to stall for time. If I can think of a way out of this – well. Any ideas would be appreciated."

"I can go," Minerva says. When she's quiet like this, she's more frightening than when she was ranting before. "I can take whatever they'll visit upon me. Medeus's niece will be satisfied. I can probably manage to escape, even if Leonidas isn't allowed to come with me. In fact, it will probably be easier in that case. I'll leave him here."

"D-do you think they will be very cruel?" Maria asks. "I thought being a hostage was mostly about sitting in one room and not being allowed outside. Like Saias. Minerva, I think you'd be far more miserable than me in those circumstances. I can sew and weave. Really, the only things I'd miss would be you two. And the chance to attend the Gala, of course."

"There's an idea," you say suddenly. "We keep stalling for the rest of the summer."

Minerva raises her eyebrows. "Oh, that's stupid but clever at the same time. Sternlin can't leave without a princess, and he'll fight if we tell him to leave, so we just never tell him to leave?"

"We can't stall indefinitely, of course. He will eventually lose his patience. But if we make the excuse that Maria wants so badly to attend the Pales Gala, and we'll hand her over as soon as it's finished…then that gives us time. Time to come up with another solution."

"What other solution?" Minerva asks.

"The possibilities are endless. Everyone will be at that Gala." You begin to pace, willing those endless possibilities to arrive to you. "I could convince Ludwik to rescind his demands, just off the top of my head. I could…"

"Oh," Maria says, "You could arrange a kidnapping! You can't give me to Grust if I'm kidnapped by someone else!"

You nod along. You like that idea. "They will be suspicious if you disappear before the handover, of course. There must be absolutely no evidence that we were involved."

Maria continues. "We don't really know how Dohlr will react if we anger them. But can we predict it? Let's go back to the beginning. What does Medeus want?" She's taking your lesson to heart, bless her.

"I don't know," you admit.

[ ] Let Maria go She is willing. She will appreciate this show of trust. But this will not be a popular decision. [Lose Maria, for now.]

[ ] Offer Minerva instead She is willing. This is less humiliating than offering up your baby sister. [Lose Minerva, for now.]

[ ] Stall until the Gala There must be some gambit you can pull together between now and then. [The Pales Gala paralogue will be at the end of the turn. Maria must attend. If whatever you plan fails, you will lose her at the end of it.]

[ ] Refuse and bear the consequences. Macedon does not bow to tyrants. [This will be bad for you, but it's not a game over.]
 
Last edited:
Interlude: Two Weeks' Notice
[Camus's incredible success in inviting people to his gala has attracted the attention of factions outside of Archanea! A certain someone is arriving a few turns ahead of schedule!]

GD Tech's Department of Outlands Intelligence occupies a substantial building in their capital zone of New Termina, a skyscraper extending thirty stories into the air and a classified number underground. Every day, rows of analysts sit at their desks and compile data from a million informants, rumor networks, surveyors, and listening posts on the thousand and one kingdoms, tribes, city-states, and covens that make up the world outside the City. No other megacorporation would bother to devote this much money and manpower to understanding the squabbles of the outer savages. For most corps, monitoring the Outlands is a single line item in the budget for an intelligence division that spends most of its time on the rivals that matter. But GD Tech has always been a little peculiar. Still chained to its origins, perhaps, as a gang of tomb robbers operating out of a little town in the desert. Still unable to resist turning its gaze back to the wasteland, in the hope of repeating that miracle find, that Golden Treasure that was enough to buy a zone, and legitimacy.

It's not harmless nostalgia, but those who know the true worth of the Treasure are happy that the rest of the corps and even the majority of GD Tech's own employees think so. The fewer rivals they will face on the way to claim its scattered pieces, the better. In the meantime, GD Tech justifies its expenditure with proxy wars, prospecting, archeological expeditions, and (to those in the know) a number of serving magic-users rivalling a Chaos Cult.

Yes, where else in the City are mages so mundane that you could find one serving as a Junior Vice-President of Outlands Outreach? This thought passes through said Junior Vice-President's mind as he pages briskly through the report in front of him, detailing the latest goings-on in the struggle against the Palamecian Empire. It is a struggle that GD Tech is funding, on his authority – it's against the company's interests for any Outlands polities to be too large and stable. Also, the Emperor is an evil dark wizard responsible for the deaths of thousands, but that isn't an argument that would fly at a board meeting.

…Looks like the mercenaries they hired simply never arrived. Ugh. He considers, once again, the possibility of simply assassinating the Emperor (who has cursed his actual name so than no one may pronounce or write it, necessitating that he always be referred to as 'The Emperor'). That would cut this boondoggle short, but if someone sabotaged the mercenaries, something as delicate as an assassination would be extremely vulnerable. Also, the Emperor belongs to a certain breed of megalomaniac that, in his experience, intends to never die, and certainly has the magical power to do something about it. Just shooting him would probably not be enough.

His deliberation is interrupted by a small ping from the desktop computer. He sets his papers aside, brows narrowing. The Palamecian situation is distant, an engaging puzzle. This alert heralds news much…closer to home. He opens his monitoring program, a backdoor into the building's electronic mail system. It searches each message sent for certain keywords, and forwards a copy to him if it detects one. Of course, he is not the only one aware of this software exploit. It's practically a feature, at this point. The last person to submit a bug report on the subject 'fell down a flight of stairs' within thirty minutes, because the bug report form uses the e-mail system, too. If anything eventually gets IT to patch it out, it will be the sheer impracticality, as each electronic message now needs to pass through so many searching programs that it's usually about as fast to walk to your co-worker's office and tell them in person, and certainly more private.

ALERT PRIORITY GREEN

Keywords Detected: GRUST, ARCHANEA, KHADEIN

Date: Fri Jun 2 09:14:16 20XX

From stephen.marquad@a.oi.gdt

To sakaki.nakamura@oo.oi.gdt

Message-ID: <200801051412.m05ECIaH010327>

Subject: Opportunity to restore network in Archanea

Dear Sakaki,

This is in regard to our earlier conversation about the state of our network in Archanea (Sector 8G). I recently came across some intelligence that Outer Heaven is sending a representative to a victory celebration organized by the Grustians. Seems that they emerged on top in the recent mess, but Outer Heaven believes they might not have the soldiers to hold all the territory they've conquered, which is why they're going to advertise their services. Needless to say, this was all news to my department.

Even if you don't think Archanea is
important, you have to admit that it's galling that the hounds have us beat in this regard. However, they're also giving us the means to address it. If one of our agents currently working for OH were to become part of the delegation, they would be able to find an excuse to stay in Archanea and give us an in to the local politics. I recommend Crazy Calamari, they're good at solo work.

Kind regards,

Stephen Marquad

[Reply Available. Continue? Y/N]

Date: Fri Jun 2 11:01:16 20XX

From sakaki.nakamura@oo.oi.gdt

To stephen.marquad@a.oi.gdt

Message-ID: <2030042751412.m05ECIaH010327>

Subject: Re: Opportunity to restore network in Archanea

Steve,

Please do not read any malice into my tone: no. We are not cutting back on Outer Heaven, the predictor of military activity planet-wide, to get more agents into Archanea, whose claim to fame is one (1) magic academy and a set of ruins so cursed it swallowed two survey teams. Consider the fact that Khadein is the only polity in that sector with a priority above E, and I don't see how this plan will get anyone into there.

Best wishes,

Sakaki

[Reply Available. Continue? Y/N]

Date: Fri Jun 2 11:50:10 20XX

From stephen.marquad@a.oi.gdt

To sakaki.nakamura@oo.oi.gdt

Message-ID: <200349809342.m05ECIaH010327>

Subject: Re: Re: Opportunity to restore network in Archanea

Dear Sakaki,

In my professional opinion, no one's getting into Khadein for at least a year, not until this new dictator either solidifies his power or loses his grip. With that in mind, wouldn't it be prudent to at least get some interim information on how the war shook things up? The agent visiting Archanea wouldn't have to
stay there. I agree, that was overzealous. But they could at least get enough information to allow us to update our maps.

Humbly waiting for your acknowledgement,

Stephen Marquad

[Reply Available. Continue? Y/N]

Date: Fri Jun 2 16:39:06 20XX

From sakaki.nakamura@oo.oi.gdt

To stephen.marquad@a.oi.gdt

Message-ID: <1109457751412.m05ECIaH010327>

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Opportunity to restore network in Archanea

Fine. I'll talk to the Outer Heaven people. On Monday.



The e-mail system gets used for nothing but trivialities and boilerplate these days. However, trivialities can still be informative, as anyone working for an intelligence department should know. GD Tech's presence in Archanea was limited even before their informant in Khadein was seized on (completely correct) allegations of being a spy. Knowing Gharnef, she's long dead. Now, this Junior Vice-President finds himself curiously blind to events in his own homeland.

…But he can make educated guesses. If Grust is celebrating a victory, it's a victory over the Holy Kingdom. He grabs the latest report on Outer Heaven, flips through, flips through again – oh, Goddesses, it's in an appendix, "Non-contract deployments".

The victory gala is in Pales. No one compiling this report would have known what that means, but it makes his eyes widen. Grust has won a very great victory, indeed.

This outcome was within the realm of possibility, and he knew, when he decided not to intervene, that other people would bear the cost. He won't weep for the House of Adrah, but he does wonder about his family. Deirdre would have kept the little ones far away from any fighting, and Fjalar is the closest thing to immortal. He's…not sure about the rest.

He should probably check on them.

Other than that, it's going ideally. Grust is throwing a grand feast. Invitations are being sent out liberally. The victors want to signal the end of war, the return of peace. They have too much new territory to really control. They want to show off their strength. They want to make peace with their new subjects, forestall rebellion. They want to hand out rewards for loyalty. After any war, there are empty positions that need filling – more in proportion to how devastating the war was, or how much new land there is to govern. What would the Grustians think, then, of a member of a prominent family, a mage respected in the Academy, a man who has held governmental position in the Holy Kingdom, but who was conveniently off-continent for the past while and took no part in any fighting against them?

He held, for a long time, that the best way for him to shape the world was from afar. But if the jealous, ossifying center of Archanea is shattered, then he can't miss the chance to insert himself into the reconstruction. He can move up his plans for retirement.

He returns to his computer and begins drafting a message of his own.

Date: Fri Jun 2 17:06:21 20XX

From arvis.velthomer@oo.oi.gdt

To management@oo.oi.gdt

Message-ID: <1109457751412.mwahahaha>

Subject: Scheduling Notification

Dear all,

This is just a message to inform you that I will be out of the office from June 12-25, as I will be taking a vacation in Old Termina. Please try to deal with matters as normal, and if anything requires my personal oversight leave it in my inbox and I will review it when I have returned.

Thank you for your understanding.

...

Dear Goddesses, he's smiling as he types. Is this life wearing on him, more so than he thought? The future feels like it's opening up before him, no longer constrained by these four walls.

Old Termina is a long way from his actual destination, but it is where he's stashed a good amount of embezzled funds. He can't withdraw too much from his official account, or else he'll look less like a tourist and more like someone trying to flee. And GD Tech, like most megacorporations, frowns on traitors.

They'll figure it out eventually, if he doesn't return. He's not worried, for three reasons. First, GD Tech has never found success in Archanea, and the current department culture barely acknowledges that the place exists. Second, he can teleport with magic and no one has ever found a way to track that. Third, if they find him –

And they probably will eventually. His place of birth is in his personnel file. There are enough brain cells left in his department to see through the web of sabotage and misinformation, once the spider leaves the center. But—

He is a more dangerous individual than anyone the company could afford to send after him, in ways that are not recorded in his personnel file. If it breathes, he can burn it. If it's metal, he can melt it. Din's Fire answers his call.
 
Turn 3: Avistym, 36
[ ] Stall until the Gala There must be some gambit you can pull together between now and then. [The Pales Gala paralogue will be at the end of the turn. Maria must attend. If whatever you plan fails, you will lose her at the end of it.]

[Convincing Sternlin of your sincerity, Diplomacy: 06 + 21 (Michalis) + 2 (C-support) + 16 (Maria) + 1 (C-support) – 10 (Arrogant) = 36; He's suspicious but he'll go along with it]

You inform the Sable Knight of your terms: Maria will not be going anywhere until it comes time for the Gala. She will attend the party, she will have a lovely time, you will receive some assurances personally from King Ludwik, and then he may take her.

You will, of course, be happy to host him in the Aerie until then.

He looks at the royal family: your hand rests heavily on Maria's shoulder; Minerva's is hovering over her axe. Maria is smiling, less like she's trying to pretend to be happy and more like she feels the need to reassure him that he's not about to die. His gaze flicks once more to the crowd around you, which is murmuring speculatively at your unexpected announcement.

He does not seem happy about it, but he nods. "Princess Sigyn, will you deliver the news of this to your honored uncle? And I will shortly have a report, to be delivered back to Grust."

"All the parties involved should be aware when to expect you home," you agree smoothly. His brow furrows, no doubt still wondering if you plan to have him stabbed in his bed at some point. You're not – even if you managed to do it without arousing anyone's suspicions, Ludwik would just send another flunky – but you don't think anything you say will convince him at this point. You get him bundled off somewhere he won't get in the way, you say goodbye to Sigyn and Xemcel, and you tell the crowd to get lost.

At last, you can get down to the actual work of running the kingdom. The food situation is headed in the right direction, but you still need more. You sense that the land you live on is not completely tapped out, but on the other hand, since your so-called 'allies' seem insistent on demanding favors from you, you might as well see what you can squeeze from them. The Holy Kingdom's always been a breadbasket, so you imagine Ludwik and Camus have grain to spare right now. And aren't the islands of Altea and Gra famed for their sheep? Hmm…it's also raiding season. Right now, every headman on the island is telling his knights to earn their keep in foreign wealth. Heh, it sure would encourage your fellow kings to send you some tribute if you made it clear that the alternative is raiders taking what they need, violently.

[The season is Avistym. The sun shines, stoking men into action and flowers into full bloom. Effects: -20 difficulty to Martial actions. +10 difficulty to foreign Diplomacy actions. +20 to rolls made by Trainees.]

[It's raiding season! The dracoknights in the Aerie have been waiting for this! You don't need to spend an action to send them on a raid – in fact, it would be difficult to stop them! For this season, you will automatically take the Paralogue 'Lead a Raid,' whether or not any heroes are assigned to it. If heroes are assigned, it uses their personal action like normal, and the potential rewards are increased.]

Available Paralogues
[X] Lead a Raid
- [ ] Where?
- [ ] With whom? Between one and five heroes may be deployed to this Paralogue.
It's not just Macedon's national pastime, it's how you make a living. Fly over to an unprotected place, crush any local resistance, and make off with all the valuables before reinforcements arrive. (Gain resources and experience, at the risk of injuring your heroes. The faction you raid will be angered.)
[ ] The Fane of Raman
- [ ] With whom? Between one and four heroes may be deployed to this Paralogue.
Like you, King Ludwik recognizes the urgency of learning more about the manaketes. He's pointed you to an old ruin within his territory, and promised an even split of whatever treasures may lie inside.
[X] Pales Gala
- [X] Maria
- [ ] Who else? Between three and five heroes may be deployed to this Paralogue.
Every power in Archanea, and a few beyond, will send a representative. This is your chance to make friends, win concessions, meddle in foreign politics, save Maria, and perhaps even have some fun.

Choose one national action from each category, and one personal action for each hero. Michalis can take four personal actions, or he can take one personal action and double down on a national action. Deploying to a Paralogue counts as a personal action for a hero.

National Actions
[ ] An opportunity to serve your king
Difficulty 40
Macedon has no shortage of brave and ambitious citizens who would love a place by your side. The trick will be to sort the wheat from the chaff. (A choice of hero units, pulled from those living in Macedon currently.)
[ ] Scouting for talent
Difficulty 50 + 10
Archanea has been unsettled; plenty of people will be seeking new employment these days, eager to attach themselves to the winning side. Let it be known that Macedon welcomes the strong and talented! (A choice of hero units, pulled from those living in Archanea currently.)
[ ] We're not that smelly
Difficulty 40/80 + 10
While you can and should try to produce more food, another solution is to reduce the number of people you have to feed. Dohlr is good land, where your people can live well – until very recently, they did. Make inquiries with the Dragon Emperor and see if he can tolerate humans living within his personal domain.
(Humans are allowed to live in Dohlr under heavy supervision/humans are allowed to live in Dohlr independently. The food burden on Macedon decreases.)
[ ] Reach out to Aurelis
Difficulty 90 + 10
…They don't like you. They know you're plotting to invade them. But surely they wouldn't shoot down a simple messenger? (Establish diplomatic contact with Aurelis; potentially a place to hide Maria)
[ ] Reach out to Talys
Difficulty 60 + 10
You suspect that Talys is plotting against Dohlr, but they have put on a façade of neutrality so far. It would not be untoward for you to deal with them. (Establish diplomatic contact with Talys; potentially a place to hide Maria)
[ ] Reach out to Pyrathi
Difficulty 50 + 10
King Mannu of Pyrathi is notoriously isolationist and eccentric, only bestirring himself when his islands are directly threatened. But he has, however reluctantly, acknowledged the authority of Dohlr, and that gives you an in. (Establish diplomatic contact with Pyrathi; potentially a place to hide Maria)
[ ] Y'all need to chill
Difficulty 75
Yes, raiding is glorious and fun and very important to the island's economy, but sometimes it's not a good tactical move. Perhaps you want as many warriors as possible present to defend the island. Perhaps you fear the diplomatic consequences. Either way, you will impress on your people the necessity of sitting tight. (The Paralogue 'Lead a Raid' will not occur this season. Overall raiding will be minimized.)
[ ] Carrots and Sticks (write-in target)
Difficulty 85 (60 if target has recently experienced significant raiding)
It's so sad, the current state of Macedon. Unable to feed their own children from what little land they have, her people turn jealous eyes upon the abundance of others. Won't your so-called allies lend any help? (Convince another faction to start sending you food)
[ ] Orders, sir?
Difficulty 60 + 10
It's not that you want him imposing his will on you - it's simply that you want to know what the damn dragon wants. Send an ambassador and humbly ask to open lines of communication. You have some concerns you want to bring up, about his latest request… (Your ambassador doesn't get kicked out of Dohlr. Potentially re-negotiate the hostage deal?)
[ ] Scout Dohlr
Difficulty ?? - 20
What is Medeus doing with all your land? How many manaketes does he have living with him? You think the risk of angering him is slight, if you send some pegasus riders to scout him out from above. (Get a broad picture of what it's like in Dohlr)
[X] Encourage raids (write-in a target) (Free for the summer! Automatic pick!)
Difficulty 65 - 20
Raiding is a Macedonian way of life, and best of all, it's profitable! While each band organizes such things on their own, they may listen to you if you tell them who needs humbling right now. (Another faction is attacked)
[ ] Soldiers of fortune
Difficulty 25/75 - 20
Macedon's warriors are peerless, of course. But they are also very specialized. A day might come when it makes more sense to spend gold, instead of your people's blood. Fortunately there are plenty of men willing to die for the former. (Make contact with mercenaries in Archanea/outside of Archanea)
[ ] Plug the holes
Difficulty 45 - 20, Cost 6
The Aerie is traditionally thought of as an impregnable fortress, but it's actually riddled with entrances above-ground. You should really stop acting like you're the only one on the continent with flying troops. (The Aerie becomes more secure against flying attackers)
[ ] Shape up!
Difficulty 75 – 20
Under Minerva and Palla, the Whitewings have evolved into a beautiful, cohesive, and flexible order. It's making your dracoknights look downright sad by comparison. It's time to whip them into shape and appoint a commanding officer to keep them that way. (Reorganize the royal dracoknights, gain a new hero.)
[ ] Expand the Holm docks
Difficulty 75, Cost 14 Goods
A ship can carry far more cargo than any living creature – but a large ship requires an equally large dock. With these renovations, Holm will be able to welcome the great ocean-going vessels from Valentia, far to the west. (Begin profiting from trade, makes diplomatic contact with Valentia possible, makes transporting large amounts of infantry off the island possible)
[ ] Grow Mushrooms
Difficulty 45, Cost 1 Goods
The brown caps grow naturally in Macedon's forests, but Minerva's discovery was that they could be farmed in the most damp of the Aerie's caves. You should take advantage of this. (Gain a new food source)
[ ] Heavenly Horse-Birds
Difficulty 35
You knew that pegasus feathers make great quills – but apparently there's more to it? Something in the way they interact with anima? Specifics aside, Khadein wants to buy them in bulk to use in scribing spell tomes. (Gain a new income source)
[ ] Cultivate Dangerous Flora
Difficulty 70
This planet has many intriguing plants that could pose a danger to your enemies! Or, well, anyone. But there must be ways to cultivate them safely, right? (Unlock new Martial actions)
[ ] For Your Eyes Only
Difficulty 85
Your current code is something, but it's not unbreakable with a little ingenuity (especially if one is already familiar with the hand signals you based the glyphs on). You know you were on to something with the shifting alphabet cipher – you just need to come up with some technique that makes it easier to cipher and decipher messages, without simplifying the cipher itself. (Better information security)
[ ] The beast of prophecy
Difficulty 65
The general consensus among the faithful of Naga is that Medeus is the evil Shadow Dragon defeated by their god long ago. You're worried they might try to do something stupid about it. (Keep an eye on the local celebrants of Naga for sedition)
[ ] Most evil man in the world
Difficulty 90
The Dragon Emperor is served by a man named Gharnef. You don't like him. You don't trust him. Everything you've ever heard about the man suggests that he has his fingers in many pies, each of which is poisonous and cursed. (Get someone to keep tabs on Gharnef for you)
[ ] Have you seen this woman?
Difficulty ??
Lena is in Pales, or at least she was in Pales. Knowing her, you suspect she's been doing something audacious. Perhaps some of the citizens remember her. Hell, if she's this good at hiding, perhaps she'll be able to keep Maria safe for you. (Follow Lena's trail. Camus is also looking for her, for his own reasons.)
[ ] Infiltrate the Heretics
Difficulty 40/75
They wear black robes and worship a 'Shadow Dragon', but that's all you know about them. Unfortunately, these lunatics are only growing more powerful under Gharnef's leadership, so you really ought to learn some more. (Get a report on the public activities and doctrine of the cult/get a contact on the inside.)
[ ] Let it Shine
Difficulty 45/55/80/90
Saias insists he's a perfectly normal guy, but Gharnef and Sigyn both think he's someone important in the Holy Kingdom. Lead your own investigation and cut through this web of lies. (Get ahold of progressively more pieces of Saias's tangled family tree. Realize certain implications.)
[ ] Pulling open a gate
Difficulty 90, Cost 1 Tech
The implants that you, and every other dracoknight, have crammed into your skulls are…poorly understood. Iote found something that worked, and taught it to others. But why does it work? (Discover the origin of the dracoknight implants, and something about the bond between rider and wyvern)
[ ] Cheap, fast and tasty
Difficulty 65
That last point is optional. (Find a new source of food that can be produced in Macedon)
[ ] Fully operational
Difficulty 75
You know what they have in the Holy Kingdom? Power plants. They can make electricity out of the sun. You want that! (Figure out a viable way to produce electricity in Macedon)
[ ] Lunar bequest
Difficulty 120, Cost 6 Tech
Iote's brain implants could be copied, but as far as you know the Shield is one of a kind. Perhaps a sufficiently clever sage could change that? (Reverse-engineer Iote's Shield)
[ ] Vulnerary Brewing
Difficulty 70
Every warrior in Archanea is attracted by the legend of a potion that can instantly close their wounds. Likewise, every herbalist and healer has their own recipe which they claim does just that, but the actual effectiveness varies wildly. Experiment with various concoctions to find one that you can actually use. (Gain access to Vulneraries, which can heal injuries received during battle.)
[ ] Gutenberg's Legacy
Difficulty 85, Cost 2 Tech, 4 Goods
You published a book! You think there should be more copies. A lot more copies. …How much will it cost to import a printing press to Macedon? (New income source, unlock new actions)
[ ] Heavenly bequest
Difficulty ???
What the heck is Hauteclere? No, really, where did it come from? (???)
[ ] Magic Mushrooms
Difficulty 45
This planet has a lot of mushrooms, actually. Most of them are not recommended as food, but that doesn't mean they're useless, right? (Come up with a use for the weirder fungi growing in Macedon.)
[ ] The Dreaming Gate
Difficulty 40
The Dreamlands are the source of magic, a vibrant and dangerous reflection of the waking world. Going there is necessary to initiate in magic, learn new spells, or delve out certain secrets. (Find a reliable way for your heroes to access the Dreamlands.)
Personal Actions
[ ] Break bread with…
- [ ] Write-in hero's name
A king stands above everyone else, of course. But it still pays to pay some attention to your subordinates, hear their concerns, that sort of thing. (Grow Supports, learn more about a hero)
[ ] Double Down
- [ ] Write in national action
Failure is never an option for you, but in this case, you really mean it. You will devote your full attention to this, forsaking free time to make sure the work gets done right. (Choose a national action. Roll twice and take the higher roll.)
[ ] Preside over court
Most disputes in Macedon are settled quietly and locally, but in particularly tricky or sensitive cases you are the arbiter of justice. (Choosing to preside over court will allow Michalis to gain a feel for the people's current concerns and their opinion of his rule. There may also be gifts (bribing the judge is not frowned upon in Macedon) or decisions to make.)
[ ] Acquire a new book
It's never certain what the travelling merchants will have in stock. Hopefully, useful information, but you won't turn down entertainment. (Costs 1 Goods)
[ ] Study the Herbarium
Then again, you already have a new book: your mother's book.
[ ] Spend time with your wyvern
It's always a good idea to keep one's tools sharp. Besides, Lucrecia is better company than many humans you've met. (Current Status: 84/???)
[ ] Worry (but in a productive manner)
Ruben knew. He told Minerva. She didn't believe him, but this never should have happened in the first place. How could he have found out? Is there any evidence you've overlooked, tying you to the crime?
[ ] Spar with Minerva
Maybe you're a little bit worried about your sister's loyalty. Maybe you could stand to pay a little more attention to her wants and needs. Doing an activity that you both enjoy seems a nice start.
[ ] Get nicer armor (Cost 6 Goods)
Why does Minerva get to strut around looking like a glorious war goddess? You're the king. She's making you look bad!
[ ] Deploy to a Paralogue
- [ ] Which one?
[ ] Train with Hauteclere
You learned the axe in anticipation of this day, but Hauteclere is no ordinary axe. Get used to your new weapon and its little-understood powers. (Current Status: 7/9)
[ ] Fret over Maria
Your dear sister! She might be leaving you soon, to Grust or somewhere else - is there any way you can prepare her to survive?
[ ] Spend time with your wyvern
There is very little you like better than flying. Besides, Leonidas is better company than many humans you've met. (Current Status: 113/???)
[ ] Check on the wyvern nests
Several wyverns – both human-bonded and semi-feral – make their homes in the Aerie's caves. It's your responsibility to take care of them, and keep the peace with the mountain's human inhabitants.
[ ] Get Michalis to take a break
You never thought you'd say this, but you think your elder brother is taking on more responsibilities than he can handle.
[ ] Lend a helping hand
- [ ] Write-in national action
[ ] Deploy to a Paralogue
- [ ] Which one?
Special: Maria is galvanized and determined to prove herself! She gets an extra action this season, so that she can be assigned to a personal action in addition to the Gala Paralogue.
[ ] Shadow your elders
- [ ] Write-in hero's name
Okay, so Michalis thinks you're too inexperienced and young and unskilled to help him rule, and maybe he's right. But what if you followed and copied someone who is all experienced and capable and stuff?
[ ] Treat the sick and injured
There's always someone who needs healing, somewhere. You can't neglect your duty to the people of Macedon!
[ ] Organize Michalis's desk
You brought up his desk as an example; you didn't expect him to actually…fine. Fine. It sounds boring as heck, but you will organize all of your brother's papers for him.
[ ] Lend a helping hand
- [ ] Write-in national action
(As a Trainee, Maria can be assigned to help out with the same national action another hero is helping.)
[X] Deploy to a Paralogue
- [X] Pales Gala
[ ] Start a flower garden
You miss your old one. Surely no one will mind if you put some pots on a balcony somewhere?
[ ] Try to train at arms
What if Lena's in danger? What if she's been kidnapped by some greedy bandits, or a dragon, or something? You've got to become strong enough to save her! Okay, maybe you can't beat a dragon…
[ ] Lend a helping hand
- [ ] Write-in national action
[ ] Deploy to a Paralogue
- [ ] Write-in which one
[ ] (Palla) Do some weaving
The work is both calming and useful. In Macedon, there's always someone who could use some warm clothes.
[ ] (Palla) Try to teach the Commander how to weave
Princess Minerva is so clear-minded and deft! Surely her lacking skill in this area can be put down to bad teaching.
[ ] (Catria) Sneak off to the library
Let's see what they have here…aw, darn, it's mostly nonfiction…are there any novels?
[ ] (Catria) Spar with the Commander
You thought Palla was beyond you…but she's on a whole other level. This is going to suck. But you will learn from it.
[ ] (Catria) Get a date
You're a Whitewing. Your hair is the color of dusk. You have all your teeth. Surely someone will be interested if you put yourself out there?
[ ] (Est) Make some friends!
You're living in a new place! You're surrounded by all sorts of cool people! This is a dream come true!
[ ] (Est) Hang out with Maria
It's amazing to be the older girl, for once!
[ ] Lend a helping hand
- [ ] Write-in national action
[ ] Deploy to a Paralogue
- [ ] Write-in which one
[Another one of Frost's daughters has barged in to re-organize everything in his room while complaining about how his other daughter did it wrong. Frost's Kids These Days trait gives him +5 to Stewardship this turn!]
[ ] Check on the pegasi
You don't really get along with wyverns – no one does, not without the help of occult brain modification – but pegasi? Pegasi, you like. You're sure the girls in white would appreciate a doctor taking a look at their animals.
[ ] Spend time with family
You know what's truly important in life.
[ ] Check on the hostage
There's a prisoner in the Aerie? A young man from Khadein? Well, he needs to stay in good health, and you must admit some curiosity, besides. (Been Around may activate)
[ ] Study the Herbarium
Athene knew what she was doing, all right. You're not afraid to admit that you could learn a thing or two from her work.
[ ] Lend a helping hand
- [ ] Write-in national action
[ ] Deploy to a Paralogue
- [ ] Write-in which one
[ ] Make a spell tome (Cost 2 Goods)
You love the shocked cries of "Wait, he/she/that's a mage?" that you elicit when you pull out your magic, but on the other hand, it might be nice to be able to use magic as anything but a last resort.
[ ] Play a prank
The king and the older princess are such severe figures, thread caught so tightly in a weave. You want to catch hold of their edges and see if they unravel.
[ ] Play with your wyvern
Lægjarn is a formless creature of chaos trapped within base flesh, just like you! It needs stimulation! Whimsy! New experiences! (Current Status: 121/???)
[ ] Edify yourself
The library's open to all, huh? Well, you won't say no to free books! There might even be something you can use for your special project…
[ ] Lend a helping hand
- [ ] Write-in national action
[ ] Deploy to a Paralogue
- [ ] Write-in which one

[If you all have an idea for a national or personal action that isn't on this list, feel free to propose it! If it makes sense, I will assign a cost and difficulty and add it to the list.]
 
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