And the word of a Queen. Whether or not they think it's bullshit, they can't call us on that directly without contrary evidence.
Upon This Sword of Fire (CKII Quest)
- Thread starter Crilltic
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
- Location
- United States
Changing vote. I meant to vote for the white dress in the first place, don't know what happened there.
[X] The White Dress: A simple white dress. It is easy to move in and very comfortable, however it will do little to show off your status. Though the white is traditionally the color of...*ahem* eligibility.
[X] The White Dress: A simple white dress. It is easy to move in and very comfortable, however it will do little to show off your status. Though the white is traditionally the color of...*ahem* eligibility.
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- Location
- scrabbling
You might want to transplant your whole vote, or the tally will only count your vote for the dress.
- Location
- United States
[X] Just take out the Streylitz members of House Landric (Inform Brice before hand)
-[X] At least, provided she is still personally or politically interested in the marriage, while you don't like Brice's attitude, he has been noticed to be actually devout and a fairly effective way to stabilize her political power by joining with the strongest house.
[X] Sit in your own section, all by yourself - Keeps tradition, but also may insult some members of the grooms family given the disparty in space alotted to each of you.
[X] The White Dress: A simple white dress. It is easy to move in and very comfortable, however it will do little to show off your status. Though the white is traditionally the color of...*ahem* eligibility.
Forgot, thanks.
-[X] At least, provided she is still personally or politically interested in the marriage, while you don't like Brice's attitude, he has been noticed to be actually devout and a fairly effective way to stabilize her political power by joining with the strongest house.
[X] Sit in your own section, all by yourself - Keeps tradition, but also may insult some members of the grooms family given the disparty in space alotted to each of you.
[X] The White Dress: A simple white dress. It is easy to move in and very comfortable, however it will do little to show off your status. Though the white is traditionally the color of...*ahem* eligibility.
Forgot, thanks.
- Location
- Southern Virginia
[X] Just take out the Streylitz members of House Landric (Inform Brice before hand)
[X] Sit in your own section, all by yourself - Keeps tradition, but also may insult some members of the grooms family given the disparty in space alotted to each of you.
[X] The Red Dress: A brilliant red dress, the color of fire. Eminently regal and perfect for showing off your position in society as a Queen as well as your relationship with the bride. However it is impractically ornate and very cumbersome to wear.
The armored dress is a ridiculous give-away of the plan and certainly doesn't look good. Of the other two, they are respectively more and less formal. Sitting in the row by herself exposes Illona to less danger when the Flame Guard swoops in to arrest the Landric-Streylitz house and is clearly aimed at asserting her status and prestige. It makes little sense to pair that choice with the comparatively informal White Dress and the extra mobility is unlikely to matter given Illona's physical separation from the Landrics and her own magical powers. So we may as well have a certain degree of consistency here and go for making an imposing and dignified impression as the Queen of Väljad and Daughter of the Ash Maiden.
[X] Sit in your own section, all by yourself - Keeps tradition, but also may insult some members of the grooms family given the disparty in space alotted to each of you.
[X] The Red Dress: A brilliant red dress, the color of fire. Eminently regal and perfect for showing off your position in society as a Queen as well as your relationship with the bride. However it is impractically ornate and very cumbersome to wear.
The armored dress is a ridiculous give-away of the plan and certainly doesn't look good. Of the other two, they are respectively more and less formal. Sitting in the row by herself exposes Illona to less danger when the Flame Guard swoops in to arrest the Landric-Streylitz house and is clearly aimed at asserting her status and prestige. It makes little sense to pair that choice with the comparatively informal White Dress and the extra mobility is unlikely to matter given Illona's physical separation from the Landrics and her own magical powers. So we may as well have a certain degree of consistency here and go for making an imposing and dignified impression as the Queen of Väljad and Daughter of the Ash Maiden.
- Location
- Canada
[X] Just take out the Streylitz members of House Landric (Inform Brice before hand)
[X] Sit in your own section, all by yourself - Keeps tradition, but also may insult some members of the grooms family given the disparty in space alotted to each of you.
[X] The Red Dress: A brilliant red dress, the color of fire. Eminently regal and perfect for showing off your position in society as a Queen as well as your relationship with the bride. However it is impractically ornate and very cumbersome to wear.
[X] Sit in your own section, all by yourself - Keeps tradition, but also may insult some members of the grooms family given the disparty in space alotted to each of you.
[X] The Red Dress: A brilliant red dress, the color of fire. Eminently regal and perfect for showing off your position in society as a Queen as well as your relationship with the bride. However it is impractically ornate and very cumbersome to wear.
- Location
- Vicksburg, MS
Seems convincing to me. I'll go for it, I'm not terribly fearful of them at this moment and I don't think our arresting a good deal of the family is liable to get us in their good graces even if we wear relatively chipper clothes. Plus, we're less liable to ruin the red one with bloodstains.
[X] Just take out the Streylitz members of House Landric (Inform Brice before hand)
[X] Sit in your own section, all by yourself - Keeps tradition, but also may insult some members of the grooms family given the disparty in space alotted to each of you.
[X] The Red Dress: A brilliant red dress, the color of fire. Eminently regal and perfect for showing off your position in society as a Queen as well as your relationship with the bride. However it is impractically ornate and very cumbersome to wear.
- Location
- California
[X] Just take out the Streylitz members of House Landric (Inform Brice before hand)
[X] Sit in your own section, all by yourself - Keeps tradition, but also may insult some members of the grooms family given the disparty in space alotted to each of you.
[X] The Red Dress: A brilliant red dress, the color of fire. Eminently regal and perfect for showing off your position in society as a Queen as well as your relationship with the bride. However it is impractically ornate and very cumbersome to wear.
[X] Sit in your own section, all by yourself - Keeps tradition, but also may insult some members of the grooms family given the disparty in space alotted to each of you.
[X] The Red Dress: A brilliant red dress, the color of fire. Eminently regal and perfect for showing off your position in society as a Queen as well as your relationship with the bride. However it is impractically ornate and very cumbersome to wear.
[X] Just take out the Streylitz members of House Landric (Inform Brice before hand)
[X] Sit in your own section, all by yourself - Keeps tradition, but also may insult some members of the grooms family given the disparty in space alotted to each of you.
[X] The Red Dress: A brilliant red dress, the color of fire. Eminently regal and perfect for showing off your position in society as a Queen as well as your relationship with the bride. However it is impractically ornate and very cumbersome to wear.
[X] Sit in your own section, all by yourself - Keeps tradition, but also may insult some members of the grooms family given the disparty in space alotted to each of you.
[X] The Red Dress: A brilliant red dress, the color of fire. Eminently regal and perfect for showing off your position in society as a Queen as well as your relationship with the bride. However it is impractically ornate and very cumbersome to wear.
- Location
- Massholistan
Alright, I am calling the vote. The winning vote is below. The appendum received sufficient support to be added on, though it is not likely to drastically change the way Illona would have phrased her suggestion anyway.
The next update should come tomorrow. However, it will be an interlude from the perspective of Asya detailing her battles with the Seven Knives, since I am looking to get the final event post, the rumor mill post and Turn 7 all out at the same time. We will see how...realistic that ends up being.
Winning Vote said:
The next update should come tomorrow. However, it will be an interlude from the perspective of Asya detailing her battles with the Seven Knives, since I am looking to get the final event post, the rumor mill post and Turn 7 all out at the same time. We will see how...realistic that ends up being.
Awesome. Asya interlude? I'm really looking forward to seeing how she views Illona. Not that we haven't seen bits of that already...
I'm a bit nervous to see how the wedding goes off, but I think we've done what we could. Illona might have been able to defend other people better by sitting amongst the Landrics, but even if the Streylitz get desperate at least Brice will have had the chance to take measures to protect his family this way. (I have a nightmarish notion of one the Streylitz's grabbing a kid or something as hostage. Hopefully it doesn't come to that.)
I'm a bit nervous to see how the wedding goes off, but I think we've done what we could. Illona might have been able to defend other people better by sitting amongst the Landrics, but even if the Streylitz get desperate at least Brice will have had the chance to take measures to protect his family this way. (I have a nightmarish notion of one the Streylitz's grabbing a kid or something as hostage. Hopefully it doesn't come to that.)
- Location
- Germany
I'm stubborn, so I will try again to start some talk about long-term goals.
We are at a point where our long-term goals have a meaningful impact on what we decide to do next.
For example, if we want to conquer Hastrijan, we should do so soon, while they are still in the middle of a civil war. On the other hand, if we want to spread the faith, supporting Roshan and Elaheh may be a better idea.
I basically see three approaches:
[]Conquer the areas around us, probably starting with Hastrijan.
[] Spread the faith into the areas around us.
[] Keep out of foreign affairs unless we are directly threatened and just build up our kingdom, for the next 10 turns or so.
Personally, I favor trying to disseminate the faith. It should still allow us to build up the realm at only a slightly slowed pace, and it also fits Illona's personality, who is highly pious and so far has been averse to using violence unless necessary. Well, and as I said earlier:
We are at a point where our long-term goals have a meaningful impact on what we decide to do next.
For example, if we want to conquer Hastrijan, we should do so soon, while they are still in the middle of a civil war. On the other hand, if we want to spread the faith, supporting Roshan and Elaheh may be a better idea.
I basically see three approaches:
[]Conquer the areas around us, probably starting with Hastrijan.
[] Spread the faith into the areas around us.
[] Keep out of foreign affairs unless we are directly threatened and just build up our kingdom, for the next 10 turns or so.
Personally, I favor trying to disseminate the faith. It should still allow us to build up the realm at only a slightly slowed pace, and it also fits Illona's personality, who is highly pious and so far has been averse to using violence unless necessary. Well, and as I said earlier:
- Location
- Vicksburg, MS
Let's not overextend ourselves in foreign adventures or get too involved in religious meddling before we stamp out domestic concerns and have a strong foundation as one of the preminent powers. Slow and steady wins the race; if our state is a strong one able to weather whatever our foes may throw at it, they may be more willing to consider our religion.
While lacking total domestic harmony, expanding our dominion over restive, unloyal foreigners can only spell trouble. Particularly if it earns us the enmity of some of the pre-eminent powers of the world.
While lacking total domestic harmony, expanding our dominion over restive, unloyal foreigners can only spell trouble. Particularly if it earns us the enmity of some of the pre-eminent powers of the world.
We should cement some kind of control over the Nomadic Clans before doing anything else.
We could do that through marriage, religious integration, or whatever, but we need to be sure they won't suddenly mobilize and stab us in the back as a priority. If Hastrijan starts a war, their allegiance will determine the victor, if they side with us we can probably win, if they take advantage of the war to sever ties with us and start their own little Khanate then we could easily end up in a war with two fronts.
Marriage would be an easy option to cement their nominal allegiance, but it wouldn't change their culture and our husband would likely be a disaster in terms of everything but military power. There's probably another way to win their allegiance, we are apparently pretty popular, but it'll take some work. We need to pay more attention to them.
We could do that through marriage, religious integration, or whatever, but we need to be sure they won't suddenly mobilize and stab us in the back as a priority. If Hastrijan starts a war, their allegiance will determine the victor, if they side with us we can probably win, if they take advantage of the war to sever ties with us and start their own little Khanate then we could easily end up in a war with two fronts.
Marriage would be an easy option to cement their nominal allegiance, but it wouldn't change their culture and our husband would likely be a disaster in terms of everything but military power. There's probably another way to win their allegiance, we are apparently pretty popular, but it'll take some work. We need to pay more attention to them.
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- Location
- Germany
Well, I still think that getting a better relationship with the Border Princes is more important right now. Unlike the Nomadic Clans, their opinion of us is only so-so, and we have no idea about what is going on with them, as we have never established any contact. And their support will be vital in any war with Hastrija, as they are our only navy. If some off the cities quickly surrender as soon us Hastrijan ships show up we will be in deep shit.
I mostly agree, except I suspect we may be forced to intervene in Hastrija, and then I would like to support the Twins. I'm also not seeking dominion, just some soft influence through religion.
- Location
- Southern Virginia
We need more diplomatic choices, because there's just so much going on and which needs doing. Alas that seems to be our weakest area of focus.
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
I like Alina, but we really need a better diplomatic advisor. Someone with atleast 20 in Diplomacy to get that extra action slot.
- Location
- Vicksburg, MS
The relationship meter is an average. Many of the southern clans respect our power and recall our mother's strength when she imposed herself on them, and they form the positive component. There's also a negative component of the ones who would not fall under her sway and struck for the north, seeking freedom. The pre-eminent northerner would not bend the knee to us and had his ambitions frustrated, and he holds sway over a good chunk of the clans. That guy is effectively independent.
Now, the border princes in the hills may not love us excessively what with our snooping around their business, but they know what works for them. Our rule has brought them bonanza profit from increased trade and development, not to mention promotion of te faith to which most of them at least nominally belong to. It's not good for their business if an alien empire of the solar faith sets up shop; they're likely to fall in line and support us should it come to conflict.
The independent tribes in the north have no such compunctions. Their religious standing is if anything preserved if our empire collapses, they become more able to launch raids to the south should we fail, they could try to unite their peoples... they have reasons to see us fail that they will leap on if we come to trouble such as through conflict with Hastrijan. And again, that opens up a second front at our back, no good. Strategically, I think it's best to take care of these independent guys first before messing around with the border princes, who are more or less content with us.
Particularly, if we could get them to function as a force to patrol and settle at our borders like Cossacks that would be nice. We could pacify the east as Russia did while beneficially channeling their aggression.
- Location
- Southern Virginia
Yeah, converting and transplanting some of the nomads to the east of the Kurlaks and giving them carte-blanche to expand until something stops them (like the Pacific Ocean) did occur to me. Now that I think about it Väljad is geographically very similar to Russia.
- Location
- Vicksburg, MS
I mean, I think we should be able to do both before even thinking about messing around in the Southlands. I'm just saying that if we have to focus on one first, I think one of the options provides a lot more security than the others.
I'm still wishing that building our relations had come in above the figuring out the faction stuff, that was a roadblock. Hopefully we at least keep updated on who is making what advances down there.
I'm still wishing that building our relations had come in above the figuring out the faction stuff, that was a roadblock. Hopefully we at least keep updated on who is making what advances down there.
Well, there's a shortcut to taking over the nomads, after all the popularity contest was split between us and a young man. A simple marriage gets us their combined loyalty, which in turn would greatly stabilize everything else, at least on the surface, because between our Legions and the Nomads, none of the internal forces can present a threat without linking up first.
In politics, you want close allies first, neutrals second, weak allies third and enemies never, after all. Nomads are an easy grab, and they are also the least likely to convert on their own. Tying them close does it.
In politics, you want close allies first, neutrals second, weak allies third and enemies never, after all. Nomads are an easy grab, and they are also the least likely to convert on their own. Tying them close does it.
I suspect the nomads are a patriarchal culture, so while marrying the northern nomad guy would in theory cement authority between the two of I don't think he'd really be willing to do what we tell him to do. Quite the contrary. It sounds pretty cold to say it like this, but we've got three sisters and if one of them dies their realm will be up for grabs. The most peaceful way to actually annex one of those realms would be to marry into the local nobility, much like our sister is doing now. Let's not throw away a very singular opportunity when it's not going to win us an actual kingdom.
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Interlude I: Asya
- Location
- Massholistan
You are Asya. Once you were the best of the Aljanni Bladesingers, and the youngest. Some said you could have been one of the greatest. But that was another life, one you would rather not dwell on. They were wrong, and now you are branded Talashīrr, a Forgotten One. But you do not think about such things. Now, your life is the Heiress-Queen of Väljad. You owe her a life-debt, she and the faith she represents gave you purpose when you had none, gave you hope when you had none, gave you life where there was soon to be none. She is your dearest friend in the world, though she causes you no small amount of vexation. She is also the reason you're in your current predicament, by which you mean dangling off the side of a river cog by a rope while some maniac in a mask tries to hit you with lightning. He jabbers something in a language you don't understand and you have to twist your body to avoid the bolt of sizzling power. It's a wonderful situation you seem to have found yourself in.
It is, as expected, entirely Illona's fault. Not that you're mad at her of course, you find it difficult to remain mad at the young Heiress-Queen at the best of time. There is something in those wide innocent eyes, that exuberant smile which melts you're heart every time you see it. The boundless optimism and guileless courage she displays sends- You splay your legs wide, pushing off with one foot from the hull of the boat, to avoid the next blast. Focus Asya, that last one was far too close for comfort. You wrap the rope around one arm and begin to run along the length of the cog, ducking and weaving to avoid the bolts as you pick up speed.
Idly you do remember that though this entire thing is Illona's fault, for she is the only reason you are within a thousand miles of this accursed city, you are here on the boat because you wanted that goddamn apple.
You were hungry after the latest spar with Ilona, which ended adorably when she slipped on a towel. It was hilarious, the way her face burned red. Not that you showed it, wouldn't have done her much good to see you laughing at her, but inside you were cracking up.
A jerk on the rope shakes you from your thoughts, it seems they've gotten tired of trying to hit you and are simply cutting the rope, sending you falling into the river below. But the side of the boat is almost within reach. You swing back one last time then leap over the side of the boat just as they finish cutting through the rope, your momentum taking your up and over the side as the rope falls away beneath you. You land on top of one of the masked men, your legs wrapping around his neck as you fall to the ground, he grunts and you twist your legs. A faint snap tells you he is not getting back up. You pop up, only to duck again as a bolt flies over your head. Smoke wafts from the pointed fingers of the man in the blue mask, on the other side of the cog. More than a dozen of the masked men stand between you and him. You smirk, easy.
The only reason you found them was because of that apple. Early in the morning you get hungry, and apples are your favorite. It was the reason you were in the kitchen to see them stuffing dead bodies of three serving staff down the garbage shute. Two of them died quickly, but the last, he ran. Escaping from the palace, from you, he died slowly. But as your blade carved patterns in his skin he told you what you wanted. Even as he gurgled curses at you when you slit his throat you were on the path to more of the masked men. You had found five so far, then men in the colored masks, with power beyond that of mere men. But they all died before you, and now the six would too, and from him you would find the seventh, the last of them.
One heartbeat, two, you explode towards the clump of men before you. The first one tries to parry your blade but you sever his hand from his arm, and then his head from his body. Three heartbeats, his compatriot gasps, but then your sword is across his stomach, biting deep as blood sprays. Five heartbeats as you kick the man into one behind him, sending them both tumbling down off the side of the boat. You are in amongst them now. Six heartbeats, you duck from another bolt of lightning, instead it streaks into a man behind you, blasting him back to collapse in a smoking heap. Seven, eight heartbeats, your blade goes low, slicing a man's leg open. The artery sprays blood over the deck, and you cut his other knee, sending him toppling down to bleed out. Nine heartbeats and another men stumbles back, his arm lying useless on the deck.
Half of them are gone now, the deck is coated with the blood and bodies of their fellows. You take another breath, ten heartbeats. Your left hand lashes, the rope still attached wrapping itself around the neck of a man, you yank and as he stumbles forward you bury your sword in his chest. Eleven heartbeats, you pause and leave the sword there for now, your hand runs down your side and flicks. Two knives bury themselves in the necks of more men, sending them both down clutching their throats. Your sword is pulled free and it cuts the rope. You lunge forward again, twelve heartbeats, and your shoulder makes contact with a man's chest. You hear something crack as he is sent stumbling backwards, a cut from your sword and he collapses in a spray of blood.
There are only two left now, and the blue-masked man. Light builds at the end of his fingers, but the rope lashes out again, catching his foot and sending him stumbling. The lightning booms and another of his men falls twitching. Thirteen heartbeats. The last man tries to run but slips and falls on the wet deck, you pay him no heed, your sword lashes out and slices the back of his neck as you pass. Now it is only you and the blue-masked man. He tries to get to his feet, still tangled in the rope, but you deliver a vicious kick, sending him flying into the wooden railing. It creaks and splinters, and the you are upon him, your fingers wrapped around his neck pushing him over the side of the cog.
"Where is the Seventh?" You scream at him, but a choked sound is your only response. You think it is a curse. With a kick you are forced back, skidding along the deck as the blue-masked man rubs his throat.
Light blooms from his amulet, from what you can tell they are the source of their power, but now the light does not travel to his hand. Instead it keeps building, the man clutching the amulet with his hand. "Go. To. Hell." You hear, and the power sings in your jaw, the light is blinding now. Frantically you turn and run, diving off the side of the boat as a roar builds in intensity behind you. Beneath the water you squeeze your eyes tight, but the roar only builds. A flash lights up the water and even beneath your eyelids it shines as bright as the sun. A force smashes into you, like you are being slammed beneath a boulder. But as soon as it starts it passes, and when you surface all that remains of the river cog is a smoking husk rapidly sinking beneath the waves.
With a shudder you swim through the debris for the bank of the river, pulling yourself up along the cobblestone embankments. Throngs of people line the side of the river, staring at the remains of the boat and at you. They keep a wide berth as you stalk away from the river, sopping wet and bereft of a lead.
With a sigh, you collapse. It has been more than a day since you started this running battle, and you have had little time to rest. As you lay in an alleyway, the sun feels nice on your face. You briefly consider giving up the hunt, returning to the palace and Illona, but you squash that thought. These men, whoever they are, represent a threat to her...and any threats to her are unacceptable. With a yawn you pull yourself up and glance around, and you almost laugh when you do so. For in front of your, carved into the brick is a symbol you recognize, for you have seen it all the time the last two days. A wheel with seven spokes, the ends sharpened into points, and below it an arrow. It seems you are not quite as bereft of clues as you thought.
The symbols prove difficult to follow, often times leading you in circles or back to places you have already looked. Hideaways and safehouses once part of this network, now only filled with bodies. Those places hold no more information to you. But then, late in the evening you find a path you have not checked. Markers pointing down towards the docks. Uncountable squat warehouses line the edges of the river, holding goods for sale by the merchants. But one has something the others don't. You spot two of the masked men lurking in the shadows. Silently you descend upon them, and soon you are wiping their blood from your swords and a new set of keys jangles in your hand.
The door they were guarding swing open in silence, and you enter the gloom within. There are a few torches lighting the halls as your creep through the building. Perhaps it is the flickering torchlight, but it seems bigger on the inside. Worse still, what you find sends chills down your spine. Hooks and straps dangle from the ceiling. Once you were in a butcher's shop, in the back where they drain the blood from the pigs, this reminds you of them, but the straps are longer, for a taller creature. You shudder when you realize what this must before.
Deeper in your fears are proven true, a few men and women dangle from the straps, their eyes glassy and unseeing, their throats cut. Many are old, shriveled, but a few are fresh, fresh enough the drip of blood still echoes through the silent halls. The eyes of a young girl seem to follow you are you pass, and your fist clenches. You are no stranger to killing but this...this is wrong. There is a vast sense of wrongness here, a taint seeped into the ground and you shiver. The masked men will pay.
The building continues on past the hooks and evil, stone hallways lit by yet more torches. Everywhere you see the tapestries containing the seven-spoked wheel, and scenes of battle. The masked men fighting against men and women who appear to be more demon than man. You see depictions of the colored masks you fought. Dark Blue with his lightning, Red spitting fire, Sky Blue surrounded by ice, Grey faded and unsubstantial, Yellow and his numberless duplicates, and finally Black, the first one you fought. He had displayed no powers, and at first you had thought he was just the same as many regular masked men you had fought. But he escaped, albeit missing an arm and bleeding out, and here on the tapestry the fire from one of the demon men seems to be bending around him. Curious.
But throughout all this walking, you never see another soul. All the rooms and beds are empty, but still you keep searching, until you find an end to the hallway. Two massive iron doors stand in front of you. With a deep breath you press against one and it yields to your touch, it is unlocked. Beyond you find a room, richly furnished with a wooden desk and a tall shelf of books stands along the backwall. The desk is covered in parchment, and you spot a massive map of the city to the side, covered in pins and red string.
A voice interrupts you, speaking in the language of these lands, one you can barely understand. A man is standing on the other end of the room, hands clasped behind his back as he gazes out of a tall window. His back is to you, but just from his clothes you can tell he is another one of the masked men. He says something again, but you still can't understand him, so you draw your swords. He still does not flinch, merely continues to speak, this time from his tone a question.
Then he turns, he is wearing a mask of bone white, carved in the shape of a man's face. "So, you do not speak our language Aljann?" He says in accented Aljannii
You take a step back in shock, "How do you know that tongue?" you hiss.
The masked man only shrugs, "It is...useful. But tell me Aljann, what is one such as you doing here? It is a long way from the Astrazi. We have no quarrel with your people, certainly not so much for you to spend your day butchering your way through my men."
So many questions flash through your mind, but there is no time for that now. "I am not here on their behalf, I serve another. One who has had quite enough of your presence."
"Oh?" You detect a note of curiosity in the man's tone, "Now, who could that be? Who could tame an Aljannii Bladesinger to serve them?" At your look of shock, he merely laughs, "Yes, I know what you are Aljann. The fighting style is quite...distinctive. As are the results."
"If you know what I am then you know you stand no chance of beating me."
He gives another laugh, this time short and barking, "That may be true usually Aljann, but you are tired and weary. Did you even sleep when slaughtering my men? Meanwhile I am fresh."
You stiffen, you can feel the weariness in your bones, the tiredness burning in your chest. What he says rings true. But still, you have to try. "I will still fight you Assassin."
He sighs, "I was afraid so, but first I do wish to talk to you Aljann."
"What? Why?" You blink in confusion.
"Because you are a question my dear," His hand skims along the papers on his desk, "And I do so very hate questions. I'm sure you have some as well, and I do not mind answering a dead woman's questions."
Something inside you urges you to strike him now, but you push that aside. You want answers, no you need them, and unfortunately this looks like the best chance to get them. "Who are you?"
"Why, I am nobody important Aljann."
You shake your head, "No, who are all of you, the masked men."
"What?" You think you hear a note of shock in his voice, genuine suprise coming through. "You mean you don't know?"
"No?" You blink in confusion, "Your men were not particularly talkative."
The white-masked man laughs but it soon turns into a snarl, "And here I thought one of our enemies had finally caught up to us. But no, it is some ignorant little girl who does not know what she-wait." He cuts himself off. "Aljann, doesn't know, serves someone else. You serve the youngest Queen don't you."
"What?" You internally curse, but you suppose your pledge to serve Illona is rather public knowledge.
He laughs again. "Well, isn't this perfect. The monster's attack dog finds us. You have no idea what you've done Aljann. Now they will be free to do as they please."
Images of Illona, sweet Illona flash through your head, "Illona is not a monster!" You bristle, "The only monster here is you, I saw what you do here."
He sighs, "What we do is for the good of everyone, they are monsters in human skin. Those with that blood in their veins live only for their own twisted desires. It is their nature. At least in death they can serve a purpose." As he says that the amulet around his neck twinkles in the candlelight and you gasp.
"The amulets!"
"Yes, the amulets. Infused with the blood of Magi. To allow mortal men to fight them."
A realization strikes you, and your raise your swords once again. "I won't let you do that to Illona. None of them deserve this, but least of all her."
"It is for her own good. Even if what you say is true, it is better to let her die now as herself, then for her blood to twist her into something cruel and evil." But you do not move a muscle, so he just sighs. "I suppose this is how it has to be Aljann." Suddenly his hand is over his chest and a force slams your into the wall. You feel something pop and pain lances through your body. Dazed you get to your feet, but the masked man is gone and the window hangs open.
But you spot a figure running along the rooftops in the distance, so you leap and give chase. He is tough to follow, almost losing you several times as he leads you on a chase throughout the city. Your breath burns in your throat, and you can feel your mind shutting down when you finally realize where he is going. The Royal Palace. With a depth of reserve you did not know you had, you push yourself forwards, to follow the last of the masked men to his destination. To protect that which is dear to you.
Your vision is hazy as you corner him on a roof-top overlooking a wing of the Royal Palace. Thw wind whips at your hear as the two of you face each other. "Give up Aljann! You can barely stand! Let me do my duty and I will let you live!" His voices carries strong over the wind, but you do not waver.
"Never! I will not let you have her, not while I still draw breath!" You see his shoulders slump, and he draws a blade of his own. It is a curved and wicked thing.
"Come then Aljann! Do what you must and I will as well!"
You draw both your swords and charge him. He moves to parry you, but that is not your target. You feel him stiffen as you lunge under his guard, wrapping your arms around his waist and push off. The two of you fly off the edge of the building. You drove the wind from his lungs with your impact, but still you see a faint glow underneath his robes as you fly through air. The wind carries away his curses as you see the palace window rushing up to meet you. You close your eyes and your world is sound and pain.
Asya gains:
+4 Intrigue
+2 Martial
Trait:
[Magi Hunter] - You have fought opponents with abilities far beyond mortal men, and you have killed them. You know how to fight them, and you know how to kill them. +3 Martial +10 to combat skill when fighting magical opponents.
[Peerless] - Your skill in the arts of martial combat is unmatched, to face you in combat is to die. +8 Martial. +25 Combat Skill (Loses Trait: [Blade-Mistress])
[Sly] You're skilled at thinking things through, puzzling through things in your head and coming up with the right answer with limited information. +1 Intrigue. +1 Diplomacy +10 to personal intrigue rolls.
A/N: Well, there's Asya's interlude. This was supposed to go up earlier, but I got distracted. Character sheets probably won't be updated until later today. So if it's not there, don't worry about it. Unless it's tomorrow in which case remind me.
It is, as expected, entirely Illona's fault. Not that you're mad at her of course, you find it difficult to remain mad at the young Heiress-Queen at the best of time. There is something in those wide innocent eyes, that exuberant smile which melts you're heart every time you see it. The boundless optimism and guileless courage she displays sends- You splay your legs wide, pushing off with one foot from the hull of the boat, to avoid the next blast. Focus Asya, that last one was far too close for comfort. You wrap the rope around one arm and begin to run along the length of the cog, ducking and weaving to avoid the bolts as you pick up speed.
Idly you do remember that though this entire thing is Illona's fault, for she is the only reason you are within a thousand miles of this accursed city, you are here on the boat because you wanted that goddamn apple.
You were hungry after the latest spar with Ilona, which ended adorably when she slipped on a towel. It was hilarious, the way her face burned red. Not that you showed it, wouldn't have done her much good to see you laughing at her, but inside you were cracking up.
A jerk on the rope shakes you from your thoughts, it seems they've gotten tired of trying to hit you and are simply cutting the rope, sending you falling into the river below. But the side of the boat is almost within reach. You swing back one last time then leap over the side of the boat just as they finish cutting through the rope, your momentum taking your up and over the side as the rope falls away beneath you. You land on top of one of the masked men, your legs wrapping around his neck as you fall to the ground, he grunts and you twist your legs. A faint snap tells you he is not getting back up. You pop up, only to duck again as a bolt flies over your head. Smoke wafts from the pointed fingers of the man in the blue mask, on the other side of the cog. More than a dozen of the masked men stand between you and him. You smirk, easy.
The only reason you found them was because of that apple. Early in the morning you get hungry, and apples are your favorite. It was the reason you were in the kitchen to see them stuffing dead bodies of three serving staff down the garbage shute. Two of them died quickly, but the last, he ran. Escaping from the palace, from you, he died slowly. But as your blade carved patterns in his skin he told you what you wanted. Even as he gurgled curses at you when you slit his throat you were on the path to more of the masked men. You had found five so far, then men in the colored masks, with power beyond that of mere men. But they all died before you, and now the six would too, and from him you would find the seventh, the last of them.
One heartbeat, two, you explode towards the clump of men before you. The first one tries to parry your blade but you sever his hand from his arm, and then his head from his body. Three heartbeats, his compatriot gasps, but then your sword is across his stomach, biting deep as blood sprays. Five heartbeats as you kick the man into one behind him, sending them both tumbling down off the side of the boat. You are in amongst them now. Six heartbeats, you duck from another bolt of lightning, instead it streaks into a man behind you, blasting him back to collapse in a smoking heap. Seven, eight heartbeats, your blade goes low, slicing a man's leg open. The artery sprays blood over the deck, and you cut his other knee, sending him toppling down to bleed out. Nine heartbeats and another men stumbles back, his arm lying useless on the deck.
Half of them are gone now, the deck is coated with the blood and bodies of their fellows. You take another breath, ten heartbeats. Your left hand lashes, the rope still attached wrapping itself around the neck of a man, you yank and as he stumbles forward you bury your sword in his chest. Eleven heartbeats, you pause and leave the sword there for now, your hand runs down your side and flicks. Two knives bury themselves in the necks of more men, sending them both down clutching their throats. Your sword is pulled free and it cuts the rope. You lunge forward again, twelve heartbeats, and your shoulder makes contact with a man's chest. You hear something crack as he is sent stumbling backwards, a cut from your sword and he collapses in a spray of blood.
There are only two left now, and the blue-masked man. Light builds at the end of his fingers, but the rope lashes out again, catching his foot and sending him stumbling. The lightning booms and another of his men falls twitching. Thirteen heartbeats. The last man tries to run but slips and falls on the wet deck, you pay him no heed, your sword lashes out and slices the back of his neck as you pass. Now it is only you and the blue-masked man. He tries to get to his feet, still tangled in the rope, but you deliver a vicious kick, sending him flying into the wooden railing. It creaks and splinters, and the you are upon him, your fingers wrapped around his neck pushing him over the side of the cog.
"Where is the Seventh?" You scream at him, but a choked sound is your only response. You think it is a curse. With a kick you are forced back, skidding along the deck as the blue-masked man rubs his throat.
Light blooms from his amulet, from what you can tell they are the source of their power, but now the light does not travel to his hand. Instead it keeps building, the man clutching the amulet with his hand. "Go. To. Hell." You hear, and the power sings in your jaw, the light is blinding now. Frantically you turn and run, diving off the side of the boat as a roar builds in intensity behind you. Beneath the water you squeeze your eyes tight, but the roar only builds. A flash lights up the water and even beneath your eyelids it shines as bright as the sun. A force smashes into you, like you are being slammed beneath a boulder. But as soon as it starts it passes, and when you surface all that remains of the river cog is a smoking husk rapidly sinking beneath the waves.
With a shudder you swim through the debris for the bank of the river, pulling yourself up along the cobblestone embankments. Throngs of people line the side of the river, staring at the remains of the boat and at you. They keep a wide berth as you stalk away from the river, sopping wet and bereft of a lead.
With a sigh, you collapse. It has been more than a day since you started this running battle, and you have had little time to rest. As you lay in an alleyway, the sun feels nice on your face. You briefly consider giving up the hunt, returning to the palace and Illona, but you squash that thought. These men, whoever they are, represent a threat to her...and any threats to her are unacceptable. With a yawn you pull yourself up and glance around, and you almost laugh when you do so. For in front of your, carved into the brick is a symbol you recognize, for you have seen it all the time the last two days. A wheel with seven spokes, the ends sharpened into points, and below it an arrow. It seems you are not quite as bereft of clues as you thought.
The symbols prove difficult to follow, often times leading you in circles or back to places you have already looked. Hideaways and safehouses once part of this network, now only filled with bodies. Those places hold no more information to you. But then, late in the evening you find a path you have not checked. Markers pointing down towards the docks. Uncountable squat warehouses line the edges of the river, holding goods for sale by the merchants. But one has something the others don't. You spot two of the masked men lurking in the shadows. Silently you descend upon them, and soon you are wiping their blood from your swords and a new set of keys jangles in your hand.
The door they were guarding swing open in silence, and you enter the gloom within. There are a few torches lighting the halls as your creep through the building. Perhaps it is the flickering torchlight, but it seems bigger on the inside. Worse still, what you find sends chills down your spine. Hooks and straps dangle from the ceiling. Once you were in a butcher's shop, in the back where they drain the blood from the pigs, this reminds you of them, but the straps are longer, for a taller creature. You shudder when you realize what this must before.
Deeper in your fears are proven true, a few men and women dangle from the straps, their eyes glassy and unseeing, their throats cut. Many are old, shriveled, but a few are fresh, fresh enough the drip of blood still echoes through the silent halls. The eyes of a young girl seem to follow you are you pass, and your fist clenches. You are no stranger to killing but this...this is wrong. There is a vast sense of wrongness here, a taint seeped into the ground and you shiver. The masked men will pay.
The building continues on past the hooks and evil, stone hallways lit by yet more torches. Everywhere you see the tapestries containing the seven-spoked wheel, and scenes of battle. The masked men fighting against men and women who appear to be more demon than man. You see depictions of the colored masks you fought. Dark Blue with his lightning, Red spitting fire, Sky Blue surrounded by ice, Grey faded and unsubstantial, Yellow and his numberless duplicates, and finally Black, the first one you fought. He had displayed no powers, and at first you had thought he was just the same as many regular masked men you had fought. But he escaped, albeit missing an arm and bleeding out, and here on the tapestry the fire from one of the demon men seems to be bending around him. Curious.
But throughout all this walking, you never see another soul. All the rooms and beds are empty, but still you keep searching, until you find an end to the hallway. Two massive iron doors stand in front of you. With a deep breath you press against one and it yields to your touch, it is unlocked. Beyond you find a room, richly furnished with a wooden desk and a tall shelf of books stands along the backwall. The desk is covered in parchment, and you spot a massive map of the city to the side, covered in pins and red string.
A voice interrupts you, speaking in the language of these lands, one you can barely understand. A man is standing on the other end of the room, hands clasped behind his back as he gazes out of a tall window. His back is to you, but just from his clothes you can tell he is another one of the masked men. He says something again, but you still can't understand him, so you draw your swords. He still does not flinch, merely continues to speak, this time from his tone a question.
Then he turns, he is wearing a mask of bone white, carved in the shape of a man's face. "So, you do not speak our language Aljann?" He says in accented Aljannii
You take a step back in shock, "How do you know that tongue?" you hiss.
The masked man only shrugs, "It is...useful. But tell me Aljann, what is one such as you doing here? It is a long way from the Astrazi. We have no quarrel with your people, certainly not so much for you to spend your day butchering your way through my men."
So many questions flash through your mind, but there is no time for that now. "I am not here on their behalf, I serve another. One who has had quite enough of your presence."
"Oh?" You detect a note of curiosity in the man's tone, "Now, who could that be? Who could tame an Aljannii Bladesinger to serve them?" At your look of shock, he merely laughs, "Yes, I know what you are Aljann. The fighting style is quite...distinctive. As are the results."
"If you know what I am then you know you stand no chance of beating me."
He gives another laugh, this time short and barking, "That may be true usually Aljann, but you are tired and weary. Did you even sleep when slaughtering my men? Meanwhile I am fresh."
You stiffen, you can feel the weariness in your bones, the tiredness burning in your chest. What he says rings true. But still, you have to try. "I will still fight you Assassin."
He sighs, "I was afraid so, but first I do wish to talk to you Aljann."
"What? Why?" You blink in confusion.
"Because you are a question my dear," His hand skims along the papers on his desk, "And I do so very hate questions. I'm sure you have some as well, and I do not mind answering a dead woman's questions."
Something inside you urges you to strike him now, but you push that aside. You want answers, no you need them, and unfortunately this looks like the best chance to get them. "Who are you?"
"Why, I am nobody important Aljann."
You shake your head, "No, who are all of you, the masked men."
"What?" You think you hear a note of shock in his voice, genuine suprise coming through. "You mean you don't know?"
"No?" You blink in confusion, "Your men were not particularly talkative."
The white-masked man laughs but it soon turns into a snarl, "And here I thought one of our enemies had finally caught up to us. But no, it is some ignorant little girl who does not know what she-wait." He cuts himself off. "Aljann, doesn't know, serves someone else. You serve the youngest Queen don't you."
"What?" You internally curse, but you suppose your pledge to serve Illona is rather public knowledge.
He laughs again. "Well, isn't this perfect. The monster's attack dog finds us. You have no idea what you've done Aljann. Now they will be free to do as they please."
Images of Illona, sweet Illona flash through your head, "Illona is not a monster!" You bristle, "The only monster here is you, I saw what you do here."
He sighs, "What we do is for the good of everyone, they are monsters in human skin. Those with that blood in their veins live only for their own twisted desires. It is their nature. At least in death they can serve a purpose." As he says that the amulet around his neck twinkles in the candlelight and you gasp.
"The amulets!"
"Yes, the amulets. Infused with the blood of Magi. To allow mortal men to fight them."
A realization strikes you, and your raise your swords once again. "I won't let you do that to Illona. None of them deserve this, but least of all her."
"It is for her own good. Even if what you say is true, it is better to let her die now as herself, then for her blood to twist her into something cruel and evil." But you do not move a muscle, so he just sighs. "I suppose this is how it has to be Aljann." Suddenly his hand is over his chest and a force slams your into the wall. You feel something pop and pain lances through your body. Dazed you get to your feet, but the masked man is gone and the window hangs open.
But you spot a figure running along the rooftops in the distance, so you leap and give chase. He is tough to follow, almost losing you several times as he leads you on a chase throughout the city. Your breath burns in your throat, and you can feel your mind shutting down when you finally realize where he is going. The Royal Palace. With a depth of reserve you did not know you had, you push yourself forwards, to follow the last of the masked men to his destination. To protect that which is dear to you.
Your vision is hazy as you corner him on a roof-top overlooking a wing of the Royal Palace. Thw wind whips at your hear as the two of you face each other. "Give up Aljann! You can barely stand! Let me do my duty and I will let you live!" His voices carries strong over the wind, but you do not waver.
"Never! I will not let you have her, not while I still draw breath!" You see his shoulders slump, and he draws a blade of his own. It is a curved and wicked thing.
"Come then Aljann! Do what you must and I will as well!"
You draw both your swords and charge him. He moves to parry you, but that is not your target. You feel him stiffen as you lunge under his guard, wrapping your arms around his waist and push off. The two of you fly off the edge of the building. You drove the wind from his lungs with your impact, but still you see a faint glow underneath his robes as you fly through air. The wind carries away his curses as you see the palace window rushing up to meet you. You close your eyes and your world is sound and pain.
Asya gains:
+4 Intrigue
+2 Martial
Trait:
[Magi Hunter] - You have fought opponents with abilities far beyond mortal men, and you have killed them. You know how to fight them, and you know how to kill them. +3 Martial +10 to combat skill when fighting magical opponents.
[Peerless] - Your skill in the arts of martial combat is unmatched, to face you in combat is to die. +8 Martial. +25 Combat Skill (Loses Trait: [Blade-Mistress])
[Sly] You're skilled at thinking things through, puzzling through things in your head and coming up with the right answer with limited information. +1 Intrigue. +1 Diplomacy +10 to personal intrigue rolls.
A/N: Well, there's Asya's interlude. This was supposed to go up earlier, but I got distracted. Character sheets probably won't be updated until later today. So if it's not there, don't worry about it. Unless it's tomorrow in which case remind me.