Actually, since the naval situation hasn't been updated, it might be that the second Greatship has put us at Average, or at least Average-, since we were already at Low+ before that was added.
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Warhammer Fantasy: A Dynasty of Dynamic Alcoholism
- Thread starter torroar
- Start date
- Mature
-
- Tags
- warhammer warhammer fantasy fantasy intrigue happens male protagonist ck2 quest belief stronk count of cannons drunken wisdom foes in the shadows graf of guns (guns) if you have a question check the front page first it begins... mountain vietnam ogres paranoia rising unseen enemies everywhere use the search function before asking waifu wars wake the bull
Dmol8
The Undead Unhinged Lunatic of the Web
- Location
- Belgrade,Serbia
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
So the Everqueen rules of expectation. Don't expect it to happen unless it's already the specific thing that happened and even then don't expect too much.
👇Taal has already accepted that Johanna might still be worthy of his approval, but a blessing is, as I already said, one of those out there things we shouldn't expect to happen for any of our plans.
iggyfan
Verified Man-Thing
- Location
- Kentucky
Oh they could do it if they really wanted, of that I have little doubt. It would take considerable number of ships or someone throwing a Black Ark at Salkalten for it to work though.
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- Location
- yorkshire
but I think they would pay for every inch
SaltyWaffles
I am dissapoint, son
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I said Druuchi Raiders. A Black Ark being committed means that it's far more than a bunch of raiders. Not to mention the difficulty of slipping something so huge and visible through all of the Asur patrols to go all the way to Ostland.
- Location
- Actually pretty lost
I think Arks are sometimes used for raids? Really big ones that are going to make a huge mess.
AzraelvonGruber
probably should put something here...
- Location
- somewhere in France
Arks are used as mobile base the majority of time ( you need somewhere to pul all the slaves after all), the only time they are used as weapons is when they want to see a target erased ( or when they attack Ulthuan )
- Location
- Actually pretty lost
True, it's not usually directly used to take on fortifications.
Thors_Alumni
Proud member of Thors Class VII from Liberl
- Location
- Liberl Zemuria.
If one was seen to be heading in Ostlands direction, Frederick would be moving every ship he had to intercept it will asking the First, Second, and Kislev navies to help fight it. and then preparing for a land invasion with all 3 of his armies present at where ship was expected to land. The armies from the rest of the Northern Trident might also be present to act as reinforcments.
Speaking of the northern trident. Frederick might need to ask Stephen if he can borrow Nordlands army for whatever the Elves might need that would have him fighting. Honestly I wish the Elves had warned us that they were coming so that we could have brought the Armies with us.
Speaking of the northern trident. Frederick might need to ask Stephen if he can borrow Nordlands army for whatever the Elves might need that would have him fighting. Honestly I wish the Elves had warned us that they were coming so that we could have brought the Armies with us.
AzraelvonGruber
probably should put something here...
- Location
- somewhere in France
i don't think they want us to fight anything... probably. I think the asrai of laurelorn want to keep their alliance Asur-free by fear of angering ( more) the Big bosse of Athel loren
Thors_Alumni
Proud member of Thors Class VII from Liberl
- Location
- Liberl Zemuria.
do you really want to take that chance. Last time we talked to them we wound up fighting and killing the progenitor of an entire beastman branch. And almost got killed yet again doing it.
AzraelvonGruber
probably should put something here...
- Location
- somewhere in France
... yeah you got a point, better to have it and not needing it than the oposite.
SaltyWaffles
I am dissapoint, son
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Not to mention the fact that if they tried to attack Salkalten direclty with a Black Ark, Ostland would immediately respond with Oskana dropping Frederick off onto the Ark.
Knowing Freddy's track record, he'd probably randomly find the critical magical part that keeps the Ark in the air and destroy it by punching it until it explodes.
Cue all of Karaz Ankor going, "How the fuck was that guy not a Slayer?!"
Kinda-sorta like this:
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The last time we heard rumours of a Black Ark operating in the Sea of Claws, business continued as usual with no special action being taken from the option list.
The problem with naval raids is that they tend to happen too quickly for a centralized response(especially one that comes from overland). And that oceans are too big to guarantee nothing will slip past patrols.
If a Black Ark were to lead a raid on Salkalten? Our best hopes would be that either more than 1-2 rings of the city survive(and that we can renovate the docks fairly quickly to get our fleet capacity back up) or that the Ark gets bogged down(for whatever reason) long enough to make it viable to send an army against it.
SaltyWaffles
I am dissapoint, son
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Two things:
1) That's because the Black Ark backed off before it got close enough to be spotted by any actual warships from any faction.
2) You don't raid hard targets unless the hard target itself is strategically important to damage/destroy. Salkalten doesn't qualify unless they're planning an invasion of Ostland, because Salkalten is the hardest target they'll find along that entire coastline. If they're after slaves, they'd hit the places of the coast not ringed by sturdy, tough walls lined with cannons and handgunners and fielding a sizable garrison.
NCRTrooper
Wishing For A Nuclear Winter
- Location
- New York
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Didn't that only happen because their message wasn't communicated properly, which said to bring an army? I think Teclis would have mentioned bringing an army if we needed one.
Thors_Alumni
Proud member of Thors Class VII from Liberl
- Location
- Liberl Zemuria.
We voted for bringing an army when the time came at the last Elector's meeting IIRC.
- Location
- Peterborough, NH, USA
So, if I've got my math right, we have 7 free slots of naval. 102 ships +1 Greatship, 100 Capacity +10 from finishing our most recent coastal fort.
Should we focus on making more Greatships while we wait for the next Capacity jump from coastal fortifications? Not sure if our most recent one pushed Low+ Naval Power to average or not, but I'd like to have at least one Greatship for each major coastal city, of which I believe there are going to be no more than 7 besides Salkaten within the next 40 years since our Province is only just starting to really recover from the Vampire War. I'd be surprised if there were more than 5 really. The point is that I'd like us to have more than 5 Greatships within 5 Turns of now, because I think they're going to be our biggest pound-for-pound naval power increase and our capacity is going to increase relatively slowly from now on, and building a bunch of them is likely to unlock new options regarding ship research and building more at once. Since they're the closest thing we have to naval Hero Units, we're gonna want to be able to replace them in a timely manner.
It'd be awesome if 10 Greatships got us to High- or even High, but I'm not holding my breath.
Can anybody confirm how many coastal cities we'll be able to fortify? Because only Salkaten and Verborgenbucht were on the Province map. Side note, the Verborgenbucht and Gauschdorf fort ups are probably going to increase Ostland's population cap significantly when combined with the recent finishing of the Agricultural Survey and the work being done on Wolfenburg.
Should we focus on making more Greatships while we wait for the next Capacity jump from coastal fortifications? Not sure if our most recent one pushed Low+ Naval Power to average or not, but I'd like to have at least one Greatship for each major coastal city, of which I believe there are going to be no more than 7 besides Salkaten within the next 40 years since our Province is only just starting to really recover from the Vampire War. I'd be surprised if there were more than 5 really. The point is that I'd like us to have more than 5 Greatships within 5 Turns of now, because I think they're going to be our biggest pound-for-pound naval power increase and our capacity is going to increase relatively slowly from now on, and building a bunch of them is likely to unlock new options regarding ship research and building more at once. Since they're the closest thing we have to naval Hero Units, we're gonna want to be able to replace them in a timely manner.
It'd be awesome if 10 Greatships got us to High- or even High, but I'm not holding my breath.
Can anybody confirm how many coastal cities we'll be able to fortify? Because only Salkaten and Verborgenbucht were on the Province map. Side note, the Verborgenbucht and Gauschdorf fort ups are probably going to increase Ostland's population cap significantly when combined with the recent finishing of the Agricultural Survey and the work being done on Wolfenburg.
iggyfan
Verified Man-Thing
- Location
- Kentucky
Cities? One, Salkaten. Settlements? Most likely only a handful. If we want more we'll probably have to use actions to create new coastal settlements or turn tiny villages in into proper towns and cities.
I don't...have the update yet. Muse choked me out and shoved me at something else, specifically Johanna cause there were a few different people not knowing who she was. And because my brain is stupid, I guess? Maybe? Update is chugging along now that I'm finishing that up, though! So...gonna be a vampires in Cathay omake in a few minutes. Just wanted to warn people so they don't get confused if the OP Post notification thing bings them.
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- Pronouns
- It/They
I am more than okay with this.
Vampires are great.
Kung fu vampires even more so.
Rivaled only by pirate vampires.
[CANON] Turmoil In Jade Relief - torroar (The GM)
GM Note: Takes place at some point in 2327.
It was a horrific storm, a monstrous storm.
An unnatural storm.
As thunder boomed and dozens of forked lightning bolts slammed down into the waters below, fire bloomed in muted puffs as fifty war-junks crashed against Nipponese atakebune and cleaver ships, the larger warships surrounded by swarming packs of the smaller ships. The stink of wet wood and gundpowder filled the air, but so too did the blood. Of course, even in a storm such as this, called down by sorcerers and magicians on both sides, she could smell the blood being spilt. She snarled, her body slick with rain, and bit down harshly onto the throat of the struggling Nipponese captain, the ship itself thoroughly consumed by fire. Nearby, her sire slammed a fist into a charging samurai's throat, crushing it fatally. The soldier's choked gasps went unheard as he stumbled off the side of the ship and into the raging waters below.
The blood Johanna drank was flush with ironclad loyalty and a lust for war, tinged with the unique flavor of Nipponese alcohol. It was, as practically every drop of every human she'd ever drunk from, delicious. Johanna bit down harder until her teeth met and her mouth was full of throat-flesh and scrapings of spine before tearing away to release an even greater gout of blood. Bodies covered the deck, bearing the colors of both the Dragon Emperor and the Heavenly Emperor, but none moved save for the vampires. Her guandao swished as she flicked it, holding it against herself, with the blade held low. Genevieve moved closer, wiping her mouth with a sleeve, and the two gazed upon the battle as it swirled around them.
"Are you ready?" Genevieve called out in Cathayan, a single eyebrow raised despite the chaos around them. "Then go!"
A cleaver ship swung wildly in the water, a wave forcing it away from the war-junk it had grappled onto.
Johanna bared her teeth in savage joy, and leapt out into the air, straight into the black waters below.
There in the darkness, hundreds of fighting men drowned to death, surrounded by the corpses of their fallen brethren. Sailors or boarders, troops being carried on transports or otherwise, it did not matter. All were equal beneath the waves. Save for the beasts of course. Long sinuous shapes of giant eels, each with maws wide enough to swallow horses whole, battled against a swarm of sharks which fought for each scrap of blood and meat to drop into the water. And there was much to be had. Hundreds had fallen in the water already as the vast storm raged above. Occasionally, the inky darkness was briefly illuminated by the lightning above or the burning ships in certain areas. Through it all, Johanna swam, inhuman musculature driving her onwards. Her body rippled and shifted, her fangs and claws growing more and more prominent, fingers and toes shuddering as the change came over them. But more prominent, and horrifyingly new, was how she seemed to swell in size. Her bones cracked and musculature grew, until she was more than a foot taller than she had been in life, her body thickened with sinew that was no longer restrained by her will.
With such a frame, she could power even through the anarchic feast committed by the creatures of the deep.
But even she could not control the seas, so instead of climbing up the side of another ship as she had planned, the waves lifted her higher. Far, far higher than she had expected. Johanna shrieked in pain as she was slammed ribs first into a topsail yard, feeling some of her bones fracture and break from the force of it. She had suffered worse, however, and merely held on by digging her claws into the wood before the wave passed. The moment the water finished its terrible movement she dropped amongst the Nipponese remaining on the ship, and was among them in an instant. Energies warped around her hands and feet as she struck out, crushing through lacquered sets of armor and into the flesh within. She whirled about, pulling a knife from a soldier's sheath and then depositing it into its former wielder's eye socket. Nearby, a bolt of lightning tore down through the heavens and slammed directly into the center of another cleaver ship, and unless Johanna missed her guess it had been certainly directed by one of the Emperor's astromancers sent from the capital.
Another ship appeared, this one bearing the colors of the Dragon Emperor, slamming its bulk against the ship that Johanna had found herself upon. Half a dozen harpoon cannons fired off, spikes whistling through the hull and deploying to ensure that the ships were joined at the hip. In moments, brave conscripts were being forced by spiked lash and barked order up the ladders and grappling ropes, and Johanna could retreat off of the ship and head elsewhere. Thus it had gone since the battle had begun. Her master, who she could feel even now, could not follow over the waters of the ocean in such unpredictable terrain. But she could still fight, protecting the ships of the Cathayans remaining in their center protective formation. Which was plenty for the admiral in charge of this force. Dozens of wooden hulks spun and struggled against the unforgiving storm and sea, and though she was far, far from home Johnana could not help but note with a modicum of amusement that Manann was present wherever there was a storm – regardless of the names he went by in nations outside the Old World.
Her musings were cut shore as a quick squadron of Nipponese ships burst out of the cordon, right towards the ship she was on and the one still connected to it.
"Oh, wonderful," she muttered as she took a few quick steps back, tensing her legs and digging into the wood with the sharp claws of her feet.
The first of the ships, a ramming vessel, cracked its fallen ally in the center with tremendous force, splitting it in the middle instantly. Those behind managed to flank on each sides, portholes sliding open to let loose a fusillade of cannon fire. Dozens of Cathayan sailors were turned into a fine red mist, the ship that had ferried them forth losing much of its stern in the same salvo. Johanna saw none of this directly, though she felt the shuddering impacts, as she had leapt up and landed on the ram as it had punched forward. A storm of splinters large enough to be arrows filled the air, dozens stabbing lightly into her skin, but she bothered with none of them as she ran forward. Legs pumped along the shuddering ram but it was her teeth which found the throat of the sailor on the deck. Such was the savagery of the impact and ensuing bite that she ended up tearing through entirely, the bestial snap of her teeth leaving her holding the man's head out of her mouth by the spine like it was a toy. Behind her, a fountain of blood showered upwards and over her, tantalizing her with its scent and taste. Unbidden, her tongue lapped around the vertebrae in her mouth, questing for marrow and sanguine fluids alike.
There would be more.
"A monster!"
"Kill it!"
She had heard worse before. She would hear worse again. The guandao flicked through the air as she held it out at the ready. All throughout she had kept it secure against her body, the materials and enchantments used by the Emperor's artificers kept it from shattering from the forces that had been unleashed against it. It was not gromril, but it would serve.
Slowly, she cracked her neck from side to side. Lightning flashed again, briefly illuminating many, many scared and yet determined faces. The sweet stink of fear and blood was cloying, but welcome as could possibly be. Her robes were torn, not just from weapons and the environment itself, but from her own transformation. She knew that, if she were to be look at herself, she would see that the sclera of her eyes had turned pitch black, the green irises of her eyes taking on a disturbing glow. Her enlarged appendages gave her the appearance of a hulking monster now. Not to the point of a Strigoi, no, not even close. But the absolute departure of her humanity was impossible to mistake.
The head of her weapon was already scoured clean by the rains. That would have to change.
With the fluttering of a bit of sickly sweet perfume, the stick-thin Cathayan Admiral chuckled as he fluttered his metallic fan in front of his face. If one did could not hear the booming salvos of cannons from either Cathayan or Nipponese ships, the screams of the dying, one could be forgiven for thinking that they were not in fact on the edge of a pitched fight. Nothing about the room spoke wholly of military purpose after all, safely hidden within the flagship of the fleet. His robes were of finest make, weighed down heavily with military honors in the form of various colored and patterned cords and iconography that was solely for those who had won them. To bear them without earning them was a very literal death sentence in much of Cathay.
"They are also grinding our ships to dust in turn," the man said with a bemused tone.
He sat upon a reclining couch with finest silk and pillows filled with the softest down. With one hand he carelessly waved about with his smoking pipe, the lightly scented smoke filling the room, while the other held a brightly colored steel fan he held in front of his face. Yet at the foot of that couch lay his sheathed blade, with which Genevieve had seen him use to cut through a bellowing Nipponese samurai the last time the ship had actually been boarded.
"I fear that if your apprentice cannot break the 'Heavenly' Emperor's servant's spell, we may find ourselves gaining an utterly pyrrhic victory," he continued. "I do so hope that the Jade Dragons prove themselves worthy of the legends."
Genevieve did not reply at first, merely reaching down to pull up the cup of steaming tea that had been poured for her. Enhanced senses would normally have luxuriated in it, had another liquid not been proven supreme to her tastes for centuries. Yet it was still a fine enough flavor, and the scent was a wonderful bouquet. Only after draining her fine porcelain cup did she look up at the tilted head of the admiral. She did not acknowledge the unspoken threat, but she knew perfectly well that it was obvious she'd understood it. For now, she simply let herself dry out.
Upon the deck of that lone Cathayan ship stood a woman dressed in heavily torn jade green robes. She stalked back and forth across before an assembled crew of Cathayan soldiers, some of whom had actually managed to retain their back-banners during the fighting. For all that she was barefoot, all present knew who she was. What she was. Even her odd appearance, her fiery red hair which was tied in a thick ponytail and terminated just past her neck, could not take away from it.
A monk of the Jade Dragon.
"Soldiers of the Dragon! Do you fear death?!" She howled, arms spread wide as she glared out at all of them.
"Never!" They screamed back, the wind and rain pounding the deck failing to drown them out.
"Do you fear death!?" She asked again, this time louder, her movements becoming more and more frenzied.
"Never!" They roared back with greater fervor.
She cackled, this monk, showing very little of the serenity normally expected by her order. Then she whirled about and grasped the rigging with one hand, the other tightly gripping her weapon. The bannermen did the same. The ship itself was heading towards what was quite literally one of the eyes of the storm. The larger vessel at the center of the Nipponese formation held in the direct center of its deck a twisted structure and little else, not even sails or weaponry. It was a temple, if one tilted their head at it, one made out of dark grey stone shaped as if it were clouds. The skies above the formation were impossibly clear, but that only made sense considering the target. As the bannermen watched, eldritch blue and white lights began to emanate outwards from the structure. In an instant, the lights appeared to bundle together and shot upwards into the clouds. Elsewhere in the seas, another series of lightning bolts came crashing down on a variety of vessels.
The enemy saw them coming.
Cannons began to swivel about. Ballistae began to rotate. Archers lit arrows aflame and sent them flying. Still, the Cathayan ship came on. Holes began to be torn into its belly, fires spread across the deck, and crew members screamed as they were left bleeding out or were burnt alive. Only too late did they realize what the plan was. If one possessed inhuman hearing, they could hear captains bellowing orders, to sacrifice their own vessels, to shift them, but it was already too late. The ship was buoyed upwards by one more wave before impact occurred, the front of the ship shredding apart even as it continued forwards while scraping against two other Nipponese ships. The forward half of the ship splintered and cracked as its momentum carried, dozens of rowers consumed by the seas that poured into the decks below. Many died on impact, others as the wood slammed into bodies.
But it was enough.
Even as the ship began to pitch and collapse utterly into the seas, it struck against the Nipponese astromancer's vessel, and as it did so a ululating cry went up from the survivors of the ramming as they leapt onto the foe's gilded ship. Samurai advanced immediately, some wielding spears, and others swords. Even more remained further behind, preparing their bows. These were no mere marine combatants, but chosen elites. Their armor was more ornate and of better make, their own back banners gleaming with the emblem of the astromancer's family entwined with the personal sigil of the Heavenly Emperor of Nippon. They had remained on the deck of this ship for the entire battle, leaving them fresh. The Cathayan's were outnumbered, exhausted, without a way to necessarily escape, and many were walking wounded.
The monk landed first, coming from a leaping roll upwards into gutting the first samurai to approach. Her guandao slammed through the samurai's armor as if it were nothing before the monk raised it further. Impaled but still alive, the man could only scream as the weapon spun about and impaled a second through the chest. Only then was there a heavy whipping motion which send both samurai into the oceans below. Cathayan bannermen fought Nipponese samurai amidst the rocking ship as it struggled to maintain itself as the ramming ship continued to sink away.
"Only that they were created with the aid of traitors to the Dragon Emperor, Admiral Zhu," Genevieve replied quietly.
She did not react at all as he whipped about from his previous reclining position. Now he sat more primly, stiffly, the fan fluttering just a bit faster than before. The smoke from his pipe puffed out one last time with one violent exhalation, its contents finally exhausted.
"Oh my, yes," Zhu tittered with a muted but ugly curl of heat to his voice. "Great Traitor Lu Zhanji."
The fan snapped shut with a rasp of steel on steel before he placed it down onto the recliner. The pipe soon followed. It was the signal, apparently, as three servants appeared from the sliding doors with armor that was lacquered gold and green. He glared down at Genevieve as he lifted his arms, the servants silently attending to him.
"Once upon a time, Great Traitor Lu Zhanji was amongst the most favored of the astromancers of the Celestial Court. His guidance impeccable, his works sublime. With his aid, many incursions from north and west were repelled, whilst his peers failed to match him."
A fourth servant approached, now, bearing a helmet shaped like a snarling tiger's head upon a thick plush cushion. Zhu picked it up with a brusque motion, lifting it high so that he could examine it with one hand.
"But then," he spoke lightly, belying the white knuckled grip with which he held the helmet, "He was revealed as a traitor. Aiding the Hung tribes, trading secrets, maneuvering all such that many of his 'prophecies' were no such thing at all. His influence gained at the cost of thousands of lives at the Bastion."
He slid the helmet over his head, making his voice echo menacingly as it came from behind the dragon's snarl.
"Yet, he was skilled enough to know that he had been discovered, skilled enough to flee to Nippon, to organize the creation of these…paltry thieves of our secrets."
Smoothly, Genevieve rose to her feet and picked up her jian, just as the Admiral picked up his own slightly curved blade by the sheath.
"This break has lasted long enough. Back to the battle, then!"
But that did not mean they were not dangerous.
Something easily proven by the multitude of dead and dying Cathayans laying upon the ground. Several of them were still smoking from where lightning had struck them, others gone entirely from supremely powerful blasts of wind that sent them flying over the side of the ship. The temple's floor and walls were now slick with more than just rain, but with blood. At the center of the squat structure lay the altar itself. A trio of astromancers were chanting relentlessly at the center of its steps, a circular series of stone slats which lead up to the edifice itself. For a moment, Johanna was struck by a horrific remembrance of the past, to a twist of metal and bone, warpstone and flesh, from which vile magic was channeled and spewed forth. All at the behest of Zacharias the Everliving.
But where that altar had been a thing of insanity, this was of far more focused design. A pedestal made of looped gold and iron sprouted up from the center. Spikes of smooth stone stabbed out all over the place, scrollwork covering it from top to bottom in glowing arcane script. At its height were far too many hands of stone twisting into one another, all helping to grasp and hold aloft a sphere that was emitting blinding amounts of electricity and light. The fourth and leading astromancer, the master of the ritual, stood upon the altar and glared down at her from it, one hand curled almost into a claw as it rested directly atop the sphere. The same power it was emitting seemed to do the same from his own eyes.
"I have seen you in the stars, foul creature! I have seen…your death!"
Johanna narrowed her eyes and popped her dislocated shoulder back in with a sneer. There were only a handful of her hastily recruited Cathayan's left, and by the sounds of the fighting back at the entrance to the ship's temple they would not last very long. Her hair was starting to raise from the static in the air.
"That already happened," she growled before charging towards him. "It didn't take."
"Redeploy the 14th Squadron to accompany the 17th and 18th in encirclement of those ships!" Admiral Zhu cried aloud, his voice a high clarion call that cut precisely through the noise of the battle.
Around him, a variety of messengers either awaited their orders or, having already received them, were sprinting off to fulfill them. The command center of the ship had been raised upwards, a number of windows provided for crew members whose duty was solely to watch and report through the mounted looking glasses. Allied ship placement. Enemy ship placement. Weather conditions. What they reported on encompassed all that and more. Standing in the center of it all, Zhu listened and commanded accordingly based on what he'd heard. For all that he bore his helm now, and his blade hung at his side, his flagship had not been boarded since the once when the battle had begun so long ago. He paused for a moment in the endless effort, however, to turn and look down at where Genevieve stood, her arms folded in her robes.
"Tell me, when should I expect that the storm cordon will falter, oh Jade Dragon?"
A devious ritual, to be sure. A stolen one, as well. A large group of chanting astromancers, working together, to craft a continual storm. One pioneered by the astromancers of the Dragon Emperor, long ago, though one rarely used due to the extreme cost and absolute rarity of the ritual materials involved. Yet it had proven one worth it, for the astromancers of Nippon, to prevent Cathayan ships from successfully reinforcing other locations along the enormous stretching coast while cutting off a delta that led inland. So long as the military of Nippon held the position, they could use the rivers to penetrate far too deep into the mainland to be acceptable. It was taking all of the allotted astromancers from the Dragon Court to weaken its effects enough for the ships of Cathay to even make this attempt at all. Genevieve was no Necrarch, but it was impossible to miss the way the Winds of Magic swirled so heavily about this battlefield.
"Soon enough, Admiral Zhu," Genevieve murmured, keeping her head slightly bowed.
The astromancer was screaming.
Blood which had been splattered over the altar were already rapidly heating into burnt pustules of rust, the three robed corpses which had been collapsed over it smoking as well from random bolts of lightning. The ship itself had been set aflame at some point, and smoke now began to fill the temple. Yet at the head of the altar, the high astromancer, a chosen servant of the Heavenly Emperor of Nippon, still lived. A pair of daggers had been thrown into his chest. Yet he kept a grip upon the sphere placed within the altar, and with his other hand he flung a single enormous and continual column of lightning at Johanna. The exertion was causing blood to pour from the astromancer's eyes, his own hand and arm beginning to smoke as he tapped into energies directly not meant for a single person to wield.
The vampire, on the other hand, was missing much of the skin on the front half of her body. One of her eyes had begun to melt out of its socket. She held up one arm to protect her as she pushed forward, her guandao left on the ground. Said arm had been blasted clean down to rapidly blackening bone. The high astromancer screamed louder, as did Johanna until her throat ceased to function, and still she advanced. The lightning grew brighter, stronger, and yet she continued to get closer. But locked as he was into the casting of the spell, to cease would be to ensure the backlash would fall back onto him, and so the astromancer continued.
"Why…won't…you…die!?" Came the fearful shriek.
A gurgled rasp answered.
"Spite."
Rearing back, Johanna's still enfleshed arm flung itself backwards and then blurred forward to grasp the astromancer by the throat. With just those fingers, she squeezed and caused the Nipponese man's howl of defiance to come to a choking halt as his windpipe was forced shut. He stumbled backwards, but she clambered over the altar – shambled, perhaps – and near collapsed her weight into him. The moment the connection between man and orb was broken, there was an explosion which sent all five bodies flying. It was as if one had put themselves directly into a stormcloud during a lightning storm, the thunderous boom loud enough to explode eardrums, the lightning which erupted everywhere scorching wood, stone, and bone alike black. Gale force winds blew in a dozen randomized directions.
High above, the eye of the storm effect over the entire Nipponese squadron abruptly disappeared. In that same instant, the clouds began to…ripple. A series of near shockwave effects began to appear in disturbing and unnatural fashions across the entire sky.
In some places, the rain began to flow upwards or directly sideways.
In others, waterspouts formed which sucked some ships up into the sky.
In still others, the wind simply ceased to be, doldrums created in a series of geometrically perfect octagons that were ranged from a single foot to hundreds in diameter.
Then, for a moment, all of this stopped. Were reversed, or simply smoothed over. Yet the strain on the ritual was too strong. At one of the storm temple ships, the astromancers simply doubled over brain-dead, their minds emptied by the effort in preventing a fatal explosion as they tried to keep the ritual going. With that done, another temple ship was incapable of sustaining the ritual on its lonesome, an explosion tearing through the vessel. With every ship lost due to the initial fracturing of the pattern, the strain increased, the greater strength required to maintain that was simply unavailable. With the loss of astromancer after astromancer, the seas calmed from their unnaturally enforced state.
A fact not missed by any present. Morale amongst the Nipponese sailors plummeted, while morale skyrocketed amongst their Cathayan counterparts. In moments, Admiral Zhu had sent out his new orders, and the astromancers of Cathay were finally free to turn against the enemy rather than the storm they had summoned. Genevieve even spied a spiraling comet colored bright white and blue by its corona of energy coming down from the rapidly clearing sky to obliterate an entire ship in one go. Apparently some Cathayan astromancer or another was rather tired of dealing with their foes from across the sea.
But she paid little attention to more as she walked away, Zhu now wholly consumed with the clean-up operations required for exterminating the remaining enemy ships. Instead she wandered across the deck of the ship, stepping close to the edge as she went. To be sure, she would be unmade if she were plunged into the ocean for too long, just as she would a river, but the chances of such a thing happening were quite low at the moment. More importantly, she needed to find a good patch of shadow which would keep the sun from beating down too heavily upon her. She was not as instantly fatally vulnerable as some, but she could not deny the weakness which could befall her as a result of the sun's rays.
For the next handful of hours, she watched dispassionately as a great number of Nipponese ships were consigned to the drink. Some were worth salvaging for one purpose or another. Others were too heavily damaged and already on their way, not worth the expense to try and save. But she also watched and waited. The waves settled, ships sank, and celebratory streamers were put out into the air. Various celebratory wines were uncorked, and rations were doubled for the remaining meals of the day. Incredibly extravagant of Zhu, but then she supposed that he was feeling particularly generous. She would simply have to take her rations…elsewhere, at another time, it seemed.
Eventually she heard the wet noise of a body pulling itself out of the waters below the side of the ship. There was then the slow, but steady noise of fingernails and toes digging into the ship's hull. Genevieve sat back within the shadow she'd found, settled, and allowed a bemused expression to find its way onto her face. Seconds later, an arm slapped onto the lip of the ship's deck, three of the fingers and portions of the wrist bubbling in a revolting sight as black bone was obscured beneath suddenly immaculate skin and flesh. A heaving motion dragged the rest of the body that the still healing arm was attached to, Johanna rolling onto the ship in a terribly sloppy flop. She came to a halt on her back, simply staring up at the sky. She did not gasp for air, but she was so silent that she might have been dead. In her other arm, this one in far better condition, she still held onto her guandao, a small sack tied near the blade itself. Her modesty was protected by soaking wet cloth and leathers likely scavenged from the dead within the depths.
"Welcome back, my get," Genevieve spoke softly.
"Thank you, master," Johanna spoke back, her voice low and exhausted.
They remained silent for another few minutes as the last of Johanna's wounds regenerated in a manner most unholy. It was not the first time that Genevieve had watched her get do so, but it never failed to provoke contemplation within her. Johanna was her first and only, hopefully ever, get so far and so Genevieve did not quite know the origin of the 'gift' that Johanna possessed. It was one that Genevieve had heard of some vampires possessing, most often those of a far more martial bloodline than her own, but one she herself did not have. She had the speed, of course, and that had been before they had begun their training at the monastery and beyond. But the way that she had grown had been more than unexpected. It had been of immense worry, for the both of them.
The unexpected albeit slow growth of the form into enlarged proportions was a characteristic of a path that neither of them ever wished to find themselves falling down. It had thrown both of them into a frenzy of study, meditation, and testing over and over again. But Johanna had shown no sign of any other characteristics that could have accompanied such a thing. After three years of grueling testing, Genevieve had decided that perhaps they would not at all. Once the silver needles had been extracted from her skull and innards, Johanna agreed. So they had continued on. Training as a Jade Dragon was as much the mind and soul as it was the body, but true training demanded the harshest of possible circumstances. Especially when pushed to the limits of even vampiric capabilities.
But they could not remain silent forever.
"So?"
Johanna just squinted at her before rolling over and sitting up again, dragging her guandao closer. The sack was tugged off of it, and Johanna carefully opened it.
Within lay what had once been five glowing spheres of great power, brought to the battlefield at immense expense from Nippon itself. Only two retained their original forms as sphere, the rest having broken into many pieces. Even then, from the largest to the smallest fragment they glowed, if dimly. One of the remaining spheres was cracked straight down the middle, another covered in a spider web of cracks, but it glowed brightest of all. All of it – spheres and fragments alike – crackled with static slightly as they were jostled, but only slightly.
"It seems the stress of the ritual ending so suddenly caused a bit of harm," Genevieve murmured as she reached for one, only to pull back as a suddenly whirring of electricity sparked out of the spheres. "Ow," she said flatly as she pulled her now singed hand back.
"Yeah. Hence the leather sack," Johanna grumbled as she stood. "All that the astromancers wanted was the spheres, they didn't specify conditions."
"Indeed," Genevieve stood smoothly as well, but she kept herself in shadow.
Slowly, the two began to make their way back towards the more populated sections of the ship. All the while, Johanna ambled within the sun while her master and sire remained in the shadows. As the skies continued to clear, Genevieve would likely end up remaining within the depths of the ship more than anything else.
"I wonder if the Celestial College could do anything like this, like…that," Johanna waved half-heartedly at the surviving Cathayan ships which now held dominance. "These…storm spheres, they're almost like elven powerstones. I saw some, once, on the black market in Trantio."
"Perhaps," Genevieve shrugged. "Their tradition is far younger, however, by a great many generations. The astromancy traditions of Nippon are over two thousand years older, yet even they pale before Cathay."
"Mmm."
They paused, or rather Johanna did, with Genevieve turning about with a raised eyebrow at her get's behavior.
"Johanna?"
The younger vampire pursed her lips, hefting her guandao over her shoulder in a manner such that she could peer into the sack again. She did not speak, simply looking at the spheres and the fragments.
"Johanna?"
The sun itched at her skin as she reached out, but still Genevieve reached out to tap her get on the shoulder.
"Mmm?"
"What are you thinking?"
Johanna blinked rapidly before glancing up at her sire.
"You're right. The Celestial College may be brand new, but the astromancers of Cathay and Nippon are far older. This is just an example," she spoke softly. "It's…I know I've struggled with what little magic you've tried to teach me, but even I can…"
Both of them glanced about, at that moment, as a passing crewman of the ship stumbled into view. He was more than a little drunk, and was at that very moment double fisting rice wine bottles. They remained entirely silent as he ambled past, right to the edge of the deck. Unfortunately for him, he was either too drunk or too determined to hold onto the bottles, and so ended up pissing his pants dark. Either way, he felt relieved enough to groan in joy before he walked away again. It would likely take him several minutes to realize what he'd done.
"…even I can see how hard it is to make these things. Holding this delta was vital enough to both of the Emperors that they sent forth some of their best astromancers, but these things are…"
She paused, then, and shook her head.
"Never mind," she muttered while she began to close the sack up.
Then a hand placed itself atop Johanna's, drawing her eyes up to that of her sire.
"Do you still consider yourself an Imperial, Johanna?"
An old, well-weathered question. One asked many times over the past years. Many vampires, once changed, found lingering connections to the past decaying with time. Some elected to serve only themselves and no others. Others found bonds amongst only their own kind. Still others pushed themselves towards some odd course or another. Some just went insane entirely. Johanna dreaded that like she feared little else in the world now.
"I don't know."
"Unfortunately, many of them were destroyed by the end of the ritual."
"Oh!"
The heavily perfumed astromancer rather dramatically swooned, but not so far that he actually fell over. Johanna couldn't tell whether or not he was actually making the appropriate expression, though either way it didn't matter. The heavily painted masks that all of the more elite astromancers wore utterly obscured such things, but their blood and pulse told all. His was slightly elevated, but not nearly as much as he made it appear outwardly. His heavy movements caused the ivory and silver headdress that he wore to quiet jangling, the chimes and dangling sapphires quietly clinking against one another. Neither of his two companion astromancers came to his aid either, perhaps used to his behavior. None of the others of their cadre were apparently recovered yet, and so it was simply just the three. Scuttlebutt was that the remainder were all so depleted from the effort of combating their Nipponese counterparts that they would be in recovery for over a week simply to get back on their feet.
Eventually the swooning astromancer whipped around again into a more proper standing motion.
"Alas, flawed construction by those lesser students of the stars was expected," the High Astromancer simpered before reaching forward to take possession of the leather sack from Genevieve.
Only now did his heartrate spike, Johanna noticed from behind a schooled placid expression with predatory intensity. Frustratingly, the mask prevented more careful study. It had been expertly molded into the shape of a somewhat flattened dragon's maw, the entire thing made out of pure jet and painted delicately to give the appearance of a perfectly clear night sky. It was common enough knowledge by those 'graced' with knowledge of the normally very secretive astromancers that the paints on their jet masks were of specific constellations. The meanings of which Johanna could not say, for there were so damn many. Each of the major towers could even profess to have different interpretations of what different constellations meant.
But there were the faintest trembles in his delicate powdered fingers.
"Ah…I see," the High Astromancer muttered as he unveiled the sack, breath catching as he saw its contents.
Johanna could not see through her own master's back, but she could see as the astromancer managed to draw out some small sparks of electricity forth. They danced in the air upwards and then gathered in a small bundle over the open palm of the sorcerer's hand. If she had not suffered worse injuries, she might have flinched at the sight of such things considering how painful they had proven to be. Picking them up from the bottom of the ocean had not been particularly pleasant either. But she had suffered worse, and so instead was able to focus well enough on the other two astromancers as they huddled with their leader. Small zaps and sparks could be heard, and at one point Johanna blinked hard as a gust of wind progressed from the center of the room to the walls in all directions.
Moments passed in quiet study before the High Astromancer looked up again.
"And this was all that was left?"
"Yes, High Astromancer Bao," Genevieve replied in flawless Cathayan. "It took some time for the oceans to calm, it is certain that there are some fragments carried out into too far depths for us to plumb safely."
"Mmm…well, we could not have expected too much from Nippon," Bao sniffed imperiously as he very delicately closed the sack back up again and handed it off to a subordinate. "As it is, you have done as we asked, and our tower shall be making make note of the Jade Dragon's assistance to the Emperor himself."
After more than a decade, Johanna would by a liar if she didn't say she didn't feel a bit of pride in the Monastery. The favor of the Dragon Emperor was a powerful thing, and to yet to gain it no small matter. Yet here, and now, they had succeeded. And perhaps this would be enough for her to take the next test. Or maybe they would continue forever. A state that she could not, if she was to be honest with herself, fully say she would despise. It was what had driven her forth from the crater of Talabheim in the first place, to range across the world. And here, now, she could still hope that she could do more good than evil, to save more than she would kill. She had to. She simply had to. Even if she worshipped no Gods any longer – for she knew Taal would never have her, not an unnatural abomination such as she. Sigmar had blessed Genevieve, but to hope for the same would be the utter depths of delusion.
But sometimes, when she stood atop a mountain or high pagoda, she would find herself gazing west.
Wondering. Thinking.
Did her father, who had stifled her throughout her early life, who had accepted her back home with open arms, who had called her monster and all manner of things that stung as fresh wounds even to this day…live? Or had one of the innumerable threats to the Empire finally laid him low? What of her brothers? Had they become fine men on their own, without father beating them about the head with her own accomplishments and character? She had been forbidden from speaking them, on threat of having to fight her own father and potentially taste a runefang's bite. But at the least she had been able to see them, even if they'd been cloaked and hooded as she rode away at Genevieve's side in the dead of night. Or maybe they'd all gotten sick, some disease, perhaps. An entire plague could sweep across the Old World and she would not hear of it until months later, here in Cathay.
And what of her friends? The last she'd seen of Frederick von Hohenzollern, he'd been one-armed, beaten bloody, swathed in bandages, and was missing most of his teeth. The man she might have married. Had fought alongside in Nordland to put a stop to the traitor and heretic Gruber, where she'd been introduced to not just his wife Natasha but Ortrud Hertwig and Stephan von Kessel as well. Stephan had been limping from the fight even as she left, Ortrud not without wounds as well. But they had families that they loved, and were loved in turn. Children. Spouses. Hopefully they were all still happy, but how could she possibly know if they were not? There was not a messenger in the world that would travel all that distance just to pass a letter, and if there were she had not the funds to pay them.
Her one marriage had been an utter sham. An enforced thing to a man she'd not even laid with once before he'd died in Ostland as they fought against Zacharias.
Who did she have now? Her sire and master?
Sometimes, Johanna could see the appeal of joining the 'Sisterhood', for there one would find those who knew on a level that no one else could what it was to become a vampire. But she had no desire to be shackled to Neferata, especially now that she knew of what she'd done to not just the Strigoi but so many others.
"Johanna?"
"Mmm?"
Rapidly blinking, she found that she'd fallen so deep into her thoughts that the discussion between Genevieve and the astromancers had ended. Now they were the only two left within the room.
"Melancholy is a standard affliction for many of our kind," her sire spoke softly, expression kind, "We all fall into it sometimes. But we need to get moving now, so come along."
"Ah," Johanna bowed her head, though her cheeks did not quite 'flush' properly anymore, "My apologies, master. Where are we heading now?"
"Back to the monastery, actually."
Johanna paused in her following.
"Uh…what?"
Her master turned about to smile again.
"Johanna, I believe it is time for you to take the test to reaching the next rank of disciple."
"I…thank you, master!"
The battle here was won, but Nippon had a vast number of bodies remaining to throw at the Empire, and everyone knew it. The Great Bastion was under assault again, but then it always was. It was the curse of being hundreds of miles long. Entire tribes could be assaulting different portions of it and not know of each other's presence. The hobgoblin Khanates had been stirred up in the west by something or other, likely another assassination of a Khan. The ensuing conflict to divvy up the territory could spill in any direction. To the south, the Khureshi beginning to squabble amongst themselves without the threat of the frost-laden beastmen building another bridge of bone and sinew to cross the waters again. Wherever the Frostlords had gone, it definitely wasn't good. In Ind, there was another Ascendancy Tournament coming, and Johanna knew that there would be much blood shed there in the name of the Devas. The rewards of their favor could be great, but still.
The world kept moving, despite her. Well, best to run to keep up then.
Turmoil In Jade Relief
It was a horrific storm, a monstrous storm.
An unnatural storm.
As thunder boomed and dozens of forked lightning bolts slammed down into the waters below, fire bloomed in muted puffs as fifty war-junks crashed against Nipponese atakebune and cleaver ships, the larger warships surrounded by swarming packs of the smaller ships. The stink of wet wood and gundpowder filled the air, but so too did the blood. Of course, even in a storm such as this, called down by sorcerers and magicians on both sides, she could smell the blood being spilt. She snarled, her body slick with rain, and bit down harshly onto the throat of the struggling Nipponese captain, the ship itself thoroughly consumed by fire. Nearby, her sire slammed a fist into a charging samurai's throat, crushing it fatally. The soldier's choked gasps went unheard as he stumbled off the side of the ship and into the raging waters below.
The blood Johanna drank was flush with ironclad loyalty and a lust for war, tinged with the unique flavor of Nipponese alcohol. It was, as practically every drop of every human she'd ever drunk from, delicious. Johanna bit down harder until her teeth met and her mouth was full of throat-flesh and scrapings of spine before tearing away to release an even greater gout of blood. Bodies covered the deck, bearing the colors of both the Dragon Emperor and the Heavenly Emperor, but none moved save for the vampires. Her guandao swished as she flicked it, holding it against herself, with the blade held low. Genevieve moved closer, wiping her mouth with a sleeve, and the two gazed upon the battle as it swirled around them.
"Are you ready?" Genevieve called out in Cathayan, a single eyebrow raised despite the chaos around them. "Then go!"
A cleaver ship swung wildly in the water, a wave forcing it away from the war-junk it had grappled onto.
Johanna bared her teeth in savage joy, and leapt out into the air, straight into the black waters below.
There in the darkness, hundreds of fighting men drowned to death, surrounded by the corpses of their fallen brethren. Sailors or boarders, troops being carried on transports or otherwise, it did not matter. All were equal beneath the waves. Save for the beasts of course. Long sinuous shapes of giant eels, each with maws wide enough to swallow horses whole, battled against a swarm of sharks which fought for each scrap of blood and meat to drop into the water. And there was much to be had. Hundreds had fallen in the water already as the vast storm raged above. Occasionally, the inky darkness was briefly illuminated by the lightning above or the burning ships in certain areas. Through it all, Johanna swam, inhuman musculature driving her onwards. Her body rippled and shifted, her fangs and claws growing more and more prominent, fingers and toes shuddering as the change came over them. But more prominent, and horrifyingly new, was how she seemed to swell in size. Her bones cracked and musculature grew, until she was more than a foot taller than she had been in life, her body thickened with sinew that was no longer restrained by her will.
With such a frame, she could power even through the anarchic feast committed by the creatures of the deep.
But even she could not control the seas, so instead of climbing up the side of another ship as she had planned, the waves lifted her higher. Far, far higher than she had expected. Johanna shrieked in pain as she was slammed ribs first into a topsail yard, feeling some of her bones fracture and break from the force of it. She had suffered worse, however, and merely held on by digging her claws into the wood before the wave passed. The moment the water finished its terrible movement she dropped amongst the Nipponese remaining on the ship, and was among them in an instant. Energies warped around her hands and feet as she struck out, crushing through lacquered sets of armor and into the flesh within. She whirled about, pulling a knife from a soldier's sheath and then depositing it into its former wielder's eye socket. Nearby, a bolt of lightning tore down through the heavens and slammed directly into the center of another cleaver ship, and unless Johanna missed her guess it had been certainly directed by one of the Emperor's astromancers sent from the capital.
Another ship appeared, this one bearing the colors of the Dragon Emperor, slamming its bulk against the ship that Johanna had found herself upon. Half a dozen harpoon cannons fired off, spikes whistling through the hull and deploying to ensure that the ships were joined at the hip. In moments, brave conscripts were being forced by spiked lash and barked order up the ladders and grappling ropes, and Johanna could retreat off of the ship and head elsewhere. Thus it had gone since the battle had begun. Her master, who she could feel even now, could not follow over the waters of the ocean in such unpredictable terrain. But she could still fight, protecting the ships of the Cathayans remaining in their center protective formation. Which was plenty for the admiral in charge of this force. Dozens of wooden hulks spun and struggled against the unforgiving storm and sea, and though she was far, far from home Johnana could not help but note with a modicum of amusement that Manann was present wherever there was a storm – regardless of the names he went by in nations outside the Old World.
Her musings were cut shore as a quick squadron of Nipponese ships burst out of the cordon, right towards the ship she was on and the one still connected to it.
"Oh, wonderful," she muttered as she took a few quick steps back, tensing her legs and digging into the wood with the sharp claws of her feet.
The first of the ships, a ramming vessel, cracked its fallen ally in the center with tremendous force, splitting it in the middle instantly. Those behind managed to flank on each sides, portholes sliding open to let loose a fusillade of cannon fire. Dozens of Cathayan sailors were turned into a fine red mist, the ship that had ferried them forth losing much of its stern in the same salvo. Johanna saw none of this directly, though she felt the shuddering impacts, as she had leapt up and landed on the ram as it had punched forward. A storm of splinters large enough to be arrows filled the air, dozens stabbing lightly into her skin, but she bothered with none of them as she ran forward. Legs pumped along the shuddering ram but it was her teeth which found the throat of the sailor on the deck. Such was the savagery of the impact and ensuing bite that she ended up tearing through entirely, the bestial snap of her teeth leaving her holding the man's head out of her mouth by the spine like it was a toy. Behind her, a fountain of blood showered upwards and over her, tantalizing her with its scent and taste. Unbidden, her tongue lapped around the vertebrae in her mouth, questing for marrow and sanguine fluids alike.
There would be more.
"A monster!"
"Kill it!"
She had heard worse before. She would hear worse again. The guandao flicked through the air as she held it out at the ready. All throughout she had kept it secure against her body, the materials and enchantments used by the Emperor's artificers kept it from shattering from the forces that had been unleashed against it. It was not gromril, but it would serve.
Slowly, she cracked her neck from side to side. Lightning flashed again, briefly illuminating many, many scared and yet determined faces. The sweet stink of fear and blood was cloying, but welcome as could possibly be. Her robes were torn, not just from weapons and the environment itself, but from her own transformation. She knew that, if she were to be look at herself, she would see that the sclera of her eyes had turned pitch black, the green irises of her eyes taking on a disturbing glow. Her enlarged appendages gave her the appearance of a hulking monster now. Not to the point of a Strigoi, no, not even close. But the absolute departure of her humanity was impossible to mistake.
The head of her weapon was already scoured clean by the rains. That would have to change.
=======================================
Genevieve watched with lidded eyes as the rain-soaked messenger presented himself, falling to his knee so fast she would not be surprised if he'd bruised the thing as it smacked the wooden floor.
"Admiral Huang, the enemy is faltering. The astromancer's storm and the cordon is grinding them to dust," the young man said, breathing heavily.With the fluttering of a bit of sickly sweet perfume, the stick-thin Cathayan Admiral chuckled as he fluttered his metallic fan in front of his face. If one did could not hear the booming salvos of cannons from either Cathayan or Nipponese ships, the screams of the dying, one could be forgiven for thinking that they were not in fact on the edge of a pitched fight. Nothing about the room spoke wholly of military purpose after all, safely hidden within the flagship of the fleet. His robes were of finest make, weighed down heavily with military honors in the form of various colored and patterned cords and iconography that was solely for those who had won them. To bear them without earning them was a very literal death sentence in much of Cathay.
"They are also grinding our ships to dust in turn," the man said with a bemused tone.
He sat upon a reclining couch with finest silk and pillows filled with the softest down. With one hand he carelessly waved about with his smoking pipe, the lightly scented smoke filling the room, while the other held a brightly colored steel fan he held in front of his face. Yet at the foot of that couch lay his sheathed blade, with which Genevieve had seen him use to cut through a bellowing Nipponese samurai the last time the ship had actually been boarded.
"I fear that if your apprentice cannot break the 'Heavenly' Emperor's servant's spell, we may find ourselves gaining an utterly pyrrhic victory," he continued. "I do so hope that the Jade Dragons prove themselves worthy of the legends."
Genevieve did not reply at first, merely reaching down to pull up the cup of steaming tea that had been poured for her. Enhanced senses would normally have luxuriated in it, had another liquid not been proven supreme to her tastes for centuries. Yet it was still a fine enough flavor, and the scent was a wonderful bouquet. Only after draining her fine porcelain cup did she look up at the tilted head of the admiral. She did not acknowledge the unspoken threat, but she knew perfectly well that it was obvious she'd understood it. For now, she simply let herself dry out.
===============================================
The martial demands placed upon the fleets of Nippon ensured that a great many were built for ramming and boarding. The ships of Cathay were more varied, but that did not mean that they did not appreciate the aspect of getting to grips over the waves. One such vessel, one of its masts splintering and breaking, and the ram itself on fire, tore through the waves as dozens of throats screamed in exertion below. The rowers could not maintain such a pace. It was utterly impossible. But for a time, despite the storm, despite the seas, the ship pushed forward. It was a one-way trip, for many, and they knew it. Already they were taking fire from the enemy vessels, clustered as they were about their charge.
Upon the deck of that lone Cathayan ship stood a woman dressed in heavily torn jade green robes. She stalked back and forth across before an assembled crew of Cathayan soldiers, some of whom had actually managed to retain their back-banners during the fighting. For all that she was barefoot, all present knew who she was. What she was. Even her odd appearance, her fiery red hair which was tied in a thick ponytail and terminated just past her neck, could not take away from it.
A monk of the Jade Dragon.
"Soldiers of the Dragon! Do you fear death?!" She howled, arms spread wide as she glared out at all of them.
"Never!" They screamed back, the wind and rain pounding the deck failing to drown them out.
"Do you fear death!?" She asked again, this time louder, her movements becoming more and more frenzied.
"Never!" They roared back with greater fervor.
She cackled, this monk, showing very little of the serenity normally expected by her order. Then she whirled about and grasped the rigging with one hand, the other tightly gripping her weapon. The bannermen did the same. The ship itself was heading towards what was quite literally one of the eyes of the storm. The larger vessel at the center of the Nipponese formation held in the direct center of its deck a twisted structure and little else, not even sails or weaponry. It was a temple, if one tilted their head at it, one made out of dark grey stone shaped as if it were clouds. The skies above the formation were impossibly clear, but that only made sense considering the target. As the bannermen watched, eldritch blue and white lights began to emanate outwards from the structure. In an instant, the lights appeared to bundle together and shot upwards into the clouds. Elsewhere in the seas, another series of lightning bolts came crashing down on a variety of vessels.
The enemy saw them coming.
Cannons began to swivel about. Ballistae began to rotate. Archers lit arrows aflame and sent them flying. Still, the Cathayan ship came on. Holes began to be torn into its belly, fires spread across the deck, and crew members screamed as they were left bleeding out or were burnt alive. Only too late did they realize what the plan was. If one possessed inhuman hearing, they could hear captains bellowing orders, to sacrifice their own vessels, to shift them, but it was already too late. The ship was buoyed upwards by one more wave before impact occurred, the front of the ship shredding apart even as it continued forwards while scraping against two other Nipponese ships. The forward half of the ship splintered and cracked as its momentum carried, dozens of rowers consumed by the seas that poured into the decks below. Many died on impact, others as the wood slammed into bodies.
But it was enough.
Even as the ship began to pitch and collapse utterly into the seas, it struck against the Nipponese astromancer's vessel, and as it did so a ululating cry went up from the survivors of the ramming as they leapt onto the foe's gilded ship. Samurai advanced immediately, some wielding spears, and others swords. Even more remained further behind, preparing their bows. These were no mere marine combatants, but chosen elites. Their armor was more ornate and of better make, their own back banners gleaming with the emblem of the astromancer's family entwined with the personal sigil of the Heavenly Emperor of Nippon. They had remained on the deck of this ship for the entire battle, leaving them fresh. The Cathayan's were outnumbered, exhausted, without a way to necessarily escape, and many were walking wounded.
The monk landed first, coming from a leaping roll upwards into gutting the first samurai to approach. Her guandao slammed through the samurai's armor as if it were nothing before the monk raised it further. Impaled but still alive, the man could only scream as the weapon spun about and impaled a second through the chest. Only then was there a heavy whipping motion which send both samurai into the oceans below. Cathayan bannermen fought Nipponese samurai amidst the rocking ship as it struggled to maintain itself as the ramming ship continued to sink away.
==============================================
"Tell me, Master Monk," the admiral spoke up again, fan fluttering quietly. "Do you know much of the astromancers of Nippon?"
"Only that they were created with the aid of traitors to the Dragon Emperor, Admiral Zhu," Genevieve replied quietly.
She did not react at all as he whipped about from his previous reclining position. Now he sat more primly, stiffly, the fan fluttering just a bit faster than before. The smoke from his pipe puffed out one last time with one violent exhalation, its contents finally exhausted.
"Oh my, yes," Zhu tittered with a muted but ugly curl of heat to his voice. "Great Traitor Lu Zhanji."
The fan snapped shut with a rasp of steel on steel before he placed it down onto the recliner. The pipe soon followed. It was the signal, apparently, as three servants appeared from the sliding doors with armor that was lacquered gold and green. He glared down at Genevieve as he lifted his arms, the servants silently attending to him.
"Once upon a time, Great Traitor Lu Zhanji was amongst the most favored of the astromancers of the Celestial Court. His guidance impeccable, his works sublime. With his aid, many incursions from north and west were repelled, whilst his peers failed to match him."
A fourth servant approached, now, bearing a helmet shaped like a snarling tiger's head upon a thick plush cushion. Zhu picked it up with a brusque motion, lifting it high so that he could examine it with one hand.
"But then," he spoke lightly, belying the white knuckled grip with which he held the helmet, "He was revealed as a traitor. Aiding the Hung tribes, trading secrets, maneuvering all such that many of his 'prophecies' were no such thing at all. His influence gained at the cost of thousands of lives at the Bastion."
He slid the helmet over his head, making his voice echo menacingly as it came from behind the dragon's snarl.
"Yet, he was skilled enough to know that he had been discovered, skilled enough to flee to Nippon, to organize the creation of these…paltry thieves of our secrets."
Smoothly, Genevieve rose to her feet and picked up her jian, just as the Admiral picked up his own slightly curved blade by the sheath.
"This break has lasted long enough. Back to the battle, then!"
==================================================
An astromancer was a curious thing. There was nothing like them in the Empire, the last Johanna had seen. Theirs was an old tradition, steeped in many thousand years of painstaking trial and error. A lot of error, based on the old stories. It reminded her of the whispered rumors of the Liche Priests within Nehekhara, the last things that 'lived' in the depths of the deserts. Thousands of years of ritualistic study, to the point that while they called themselves astromancers, they were revered almost as if they were priests themselves in Cathay. Seers, diviners, and yet dangerous for certain due to their powers alone and when joined in concert. Personally, she had no idea what it meant for them to have 'dragon blood' in their veins, but there was certainly something more to them than just the magic. The way their bodies had shifted, nails growing closer to claws, the physical capabilities…but then, that was for those of Cathay. Those from Nippon had no such thing, supposedly.
But that did not mean they were not dangerous.
Something easily proven by the multitude of dead and dying Cathayans laying upon the ground. Several of them were still smoking from where lightning had struck them, others gone entirely from supremely powerful blasts of wind that sent them flying over the side of the ship. The temple's floor and walls were now slick with more than just rain, but with blood. At the center of the squat structure lay the altar itself. A trio of astromancers were chanting relentlessly at the center of its steps, a circular series of stone slats which lead up to the edifice itself. For a moment, Johanna was struck by a horrific remembrance of the past, to a twist of metal and bone, warpstone and flesh, from which vile magic was channeled and spewed forth. All at the behest of Zacharias the Everliving.
But where that altar had been a thing of insanity, this was of far more focused design. A pedestal made of looped gold and iron sprouted up from the center. Spikes of smooth stone stabbed out all over the place, scrollwork covering it from top to bottom in glowing arcane script. At its height were far too many hands of stone twisting into one another, all helping to grasp and hold aloft a sphere that was emitting blinding amounts of electricity and light. The fourth and leading astromancer, the master of the ritual, stood upon the altar and glared down at her from it, one hand curled almost into a claw as it rested directly atop the sphere. The same power it was emitting seemed to do the same from his own eyes.
"I have seen you in the stars, foul creature! I have seen…your death!"
Johanna narrowed her eyes and popped her dislocated shoulder back in with a sneer. There were only a handful of her hastily recruited Cathayan's left, and by the sounds of the fighting back at the entrance to the ship's temple they would not last very long. Her hair was starting to raise from the static in the air.
"That already happened," she growled before charging towards him. "It didn't take."
=============================================
"Redeploy the 14th Squadron to accompany the 17th and 18th in encirclement of those ships!" Admiral Zhu cried aloud, his voice a high clarion call that cut precisely through the noise of the battle.
Around him, a variety of messengers either awaited their orders or, having already received them, were sprinting off to fulfill them. The command center of the ship had been raised upwards, a number of windows provided for crew members whose duty was solely to watch and report through the mounted looking glasses. Allied ship placement. Enemy ship placement. Weather conditions. What they reported on encompassed all that and more. Standing in the center of it all, Zhu listened and commanded accordingly based on what he'd heard. For all that he bore his helm now, and his blade hung at his side, his flagship had not been boarded since the once when the battle had begun so long ago. He paused for a moment in the endless effort, however, to turn and look down at where Genevieve stood, her arms folded in her robes.
"Tell me, when should I expect that the storm cordon will falter, oh Jade Dragon?"
A devious ritual, to be sure. A stolen one, as well. A large group of chanting astromancers, working together, to craft a continual storm. One pioneered by the astromancers of the Dragon Emperor, long ago, though one rarely used due to the extreme cost and absolute rarity of the ritual materials involved. Yet it had proven one worth it, for the astromancers of Nippon, to prevent Cathayan ships from successfully reinforcing other locations along the enormous stretching coast while cutting off a delta that led inland. So long as the military of Nippon held the position, they could use the rivers to penetrate far too deep into the mainland to be acceptable. It was taking all of the allotted astromancers from the Dragon Court to weaken its effects enough for the ships of Cathay to even make this attempt at all. Genevieve was no Necrarch, but it was impossible to miss the way the Winds of Magic swirled so heavily about this battlefield.
"Soon enough, Admiral Zhu," Genevieve murmured, keeping her head slightly bowed.
===========================================
Johanna was screaming.
The astromancer was screaming.
Blood which had been splattered over the altar were already rapidly heating into burnt pustules of rust, the three robed corpses which had been collapsed over it smoking as well from random bolts of lightning. The ship itself had been set aflame at some point, and smoke now began to fill the temple. Yet at the head of the altar, the high astromancer, a chosen servant of the Heavenly Emperor of Nippon, still lived. A pair of daggers had been thrown into his chest. Yet he kept a grip upon the sphere placed within the altar, and with his other hand he flung a single enormous and continual column of lightning at Johanna. The exertion was causing blood to pour from the astromancer's eyes, his own hand and arm beginning to smoke as he tapped into energies directly not meant for a single person to wield.
The vampire, on the other hand, was missing much of the skin on the front half of her body. One of her eyes had begun to melt out of its socket. She held up one arm to protect her as she pushed forward, her guandao left on the ground. Said arm had been blasted clean down to rapidly blackening bone. The high astromancer screamed louder, as did Johanna until her throat ceased to function, and still she advanced. The lightning grew brighter, stronger, and yet she continued to get closer. But locked as he was into the casting of the spell, to cease would be to ensure the backlash would fall back onto him, and so the astromancer continued.
"Why…won't…you…die!?" Came the fearful shriek.
A gurgled rasp answered.
"Spite."
Rearing back, Johanna's still enfleshed arm flung itself backwards and then blurred forward to grasp the astromancer by the throat. With just those fingers, she squeezed and caused the Nipponese man's howl of defiance to come to a choking halt as his windpipe was forced shut. He stumbled backwards, but she clambered over the altar – shambled, perhaps – and near collapsed her weight into him. The moment the connection between man and orb was broken, there was an explosion which sent all five bodies flying. It was as if one had put themselves directly into a stormcloud during a lightning storm, the thunderous boom loud enough to explode eardrums, the lightning which erupted everywhere scorching wood, stone, and bone alike black. Gale force winds blew in a dozen randomized directions.
High above, the eye of the storm effect over the entire Nipponese squadron abruptly disappeared. In that same instant, the clouds began to…ripple. A series of near shockwave effects began to appear in disturbing and unnatural fashions across the entire sky.
In some places, the rain began to flow upwards or directly sideways.
In others, waterspouts formed which sucked some ships up into the sky.
In still others, the wind simply ceased to be, doldrums created in a series of geometrically perfect octagons that were ranged from a single foot to hundreds in diameter.
Then, for a moment, all of this stopped. Were reversed, or simply smoothed over. Yet the strain on the ritual was too strong. At one of the storm temple ships, the astromancers simply doubled over brain-dead, their minds emptied by the effort in preventing a fatal explosion as they tried to keep the ritual going. With that done, another temple ship was incapable of sustaining the ritual on its lonesome, an explosion tearing through the vessel. With every ship lost due to the initial fracturing of the pattern, the strain increased, the greater strength required to maintain that was simply unavailable. With the loss of astromancer after astromancer, the seas calmed from their unnaturally enforced state.
================================================
The storm…simply began to cease.
A fact not missed by any present. Morale amongst the Nipponese sailors plummeted, while morale skyrocketed amongst their Cathayan counterparts. In moments, Admiral Zhu had sent out his new orders, and the astromancers of Cathay were finally free to turn against the enemy rather than the storm they had summoned. Genevieve even spied a spiraling comet colored bright white and blue by its corona of energy coming down from the rapidly clearing sky to obliterate an entire ship in one go. Apparently some Cathayan astromancer or another was rather tired of dealing with their foes from across the sea.
But she paid little attention to more as she walked away, Zhu now wholly consumed with the clean-up operations required for exterminating the remaining enemy ships. Instead she wandered across the deck of the ship, stepping close to the edge as she went. To be sure, she would be unmade if she were plunged into the ocean for too long, just as she would a river, but the chances of such a thing happening were quite low at the moment. More importantly, she needed to find a good patch of shadow which would keep the sun from beating down too heavily upon her. She was not as instantly fatally vulnerable as some, but she could not deny the weakness which could befall her as a result of the sun's rays.
For the next handful of hours, she watched dispassionately as a great number of Nipponese ships were consigned to the drink. Some were worth salvaging for one purpose or another. Others were too heavily damaged and already on their way, not worth the expense to try and save. But she also watched and waited. The waves settled, ships sank, and celebratory streamers were put out into the air. Various celebratory wines were uncorked, and rations were doubled for the remaining meals of the day. Incredibly extravagant of Zhu, but then she supposed that he was feeling particularly generous. She would simply have to take her rations…elsewhere, at another time, it seemed.
Eventually she heard the wet noise of a body pulling itself out of the waters below the side of the ship. There was then the slow, but steady noise of fingernails and toes digging into the ship's hull. Genevieve sat back within the shadow she'd found, settled, and allowed a bemused expression to find its way onto her face. Seconds later, an arm slapped onto the lip of the ship's deck, three of the fingers and portions of the wrist bubbling in a revolting sight as black bone was obscured beneath suddenly immaculate skin and flesh. A heaving motion dragged the rest of the body that the still healing arm was attached to, Johanna rolling onto the ship in a terribly sloppy flop. She came to a halt on her back, simply staring up at the sky. She did not gasp for air, but she was so silent that she might have been dead. In her other arm, this one in far better condition, she still held onto her guandao, a small sack tied near the blade itself. Her modesty was protected by soaking wet cloth and leathers likely scavenged from the dead within the depths.
"Welcome back, my get," Genevieve spoke softly.
"Thank you, master," Johanna spoke back, her voice low and exhausted.
They remained silent for another few minutes as the last of Johanna's wounds regenerated in a manner most unholy. It was not the first time that Genevieve had watched her get do so, but it never failed to provoke contemplation within her. Johanna was her first and only, hopefully ever, get so far and so Genevieve did not quite know the origin of the 'gift' that Johanna possessed. It was one that Genevieve had heard of some vampires possessing, most often those of a far more martial bloodline than her own, but one she herself did not have. She had the speed, of course, and that had been before they had begun their training at the monastery and beyond. But the way that she had grown had been more than unexpected. It had been of immense worry, for the both of them.
The unexpected albeit slow growth of the form into enlarged proportions was a characteristic of a path that neither of them ever wished to find themselves falling down. It had thrown both of them into a frenzy of study, meditation, and testing over and over again. But Johanna had shown no sign of any other characteristics that could have accompanied such a thing. After three years of grueling testing, Genevieve had decided that perhaps they would not at all. Once the silver needles had been extracted from her skull and innards, Johanna agreed. So they had continued on. Training as a Jade Dragon was as much the mind and soul as it was the body, but true training demanded the harshest of possible circumstances. Especially when pushed to the limits of even vampiric capabilities.
But they could not remain silent forever.
"So?"
Johanna just squinted at her before rolling over and sitting up again, dragging her guandao closer. The sack was tugged off of it, and Johanna carefully opened it.
Within lay what had once been five glowing spheres of great power, brought to the battlefield at immense expense from Nippon itself. Only two retained their original forms as sphere, the rest having broken into many pieces. Even then, from the largest to the smallest fragment they glowed, if dimly. One of the remaining spheres was cracked straight down the middle, another covered in a spider web of cracks, but it glowed brightest of all. All of it – spheres and fragments alike – crackled with static slightly as they were jostled, but only slightly.
"It seems the stress of the ritual ending so suddenly caused a bit of harm," Genevieve murmured as she reached for one, only to pull back as a suddenly whirring of electricity sparked out of the spheres. "Ow," she said flatly as she pulled her now singed hand back.
"Yeah. Hence the leather sack," Johanna grumbled as she stood. "All that the astromancers wanted was the spheres, they didn't specify conditions."
"Indeed," Genevieve stood smoothly as well, but she kept herself in shadow.
Slowly, the two began to make their way back towards the more populated sections of the ship. All the while, Johanna ambled within the sun while her master and sire remained in the shadows. As the skies continued to clear, Genevieve would likely end up remaining within the depths of the ship more than anything else.
"I wonder if the Celestial College could do anything like this, like…that," Johanna waved half-heartedly at the surviving Cathayan ships which now held dominance. "These…storm spheres, they're almost like elven powerstones. I saw some, once, on the black market in Trantio."
"Perhaps," Genevieve shrugged. "Their tradition is far younger, however, by a great many generations. The astromancy traditions of Nippon are over two thousand years older, yet even they pale before Cathay."
"Mmm."
They paused, or rather Johanna did, with Genevieve turning about with a raised eyebrow at her get's behavior.
"Johanna?"
The younger vampire pursed her lips, hefting her guandao over her shoulder in a manner such that she could peer into the sack again. She did not speak, simply looking at the spheres and the fragments.
"Johanna?"
The sun itched at her skin as she reached out, but still Genevieve reached out to tap her get on the shoulder.
"Mmm?"
"What are you thinking?"
Johanna blinked rapidly before glancing up at her sire.
"You're right. The Celestial College may be brand new, but the astromancers of Cathay and Nippon are far older. This is just an example," she spoke softly. "It's…I know I've struggled with what little magic you've tried to teach me, but even I can…"
Both of them glanced about, at that moment, as a passing crewman of the ship stumbled into view. He was more than a little drunk, and was at that very moment double fisting rice wine bottles. They remained entirely silent as he ambled past, right to the edge of the deck. Unfortunately for him, he was either too drunk or too determined to hold onto the bottles, and so ended up pissing his pants dark. Either way, he felt relieved enough to groan in joy before he walked away again. It would likely take him several minutes to realize what he'd done.
"…even I can see how hard it is to make these things. Holding this delta was vital enough to both of the Emperors that they sent forth some of their best astromancers, but these things are…"
She paused, then, and shook her head.
"Never mind," she muttered while she began to close the sack up.
Then a hand placed itself atop Johanna's, drawing her eyes up to that of her sire.
"Do you still consider yourself an Imperial, Johanna?"
An old, well-weathered question. One asked many times over the past years. Many vampires, once changed, found lingering connections to the past decaying with time. Some elected to serve only themselves and no others. Others found bonds amongst only their own kind. Still others pushed themselves towards some odd course or another. Some just went insane entirely. Johanna dreaded that like she feared little else in the world now.
"I don't know."
======================================================
A short time later, they found themselves in a large audience chamber within the giant flagship of Admiral Zhu. Johanna remained by the doors, her position as only an acolyte demanding that she remain back from the dragon-blooded sorcerers for propriety. Only those of proper rank and permission, such as a Jade Master or Admiral, could be allowed close.
"Unfortunately, many of them were destroyed by the end of the ritual."
"Oh!"
The heavily perfumed astromancer rather dramatically swooned, but not so far that he actually fell over. Johanna couldn't tell whether or not he was actually making the appropriate expression, though either way it didn't matter. The heavily painted masks that all of the more elite astromancers wore utterly obscured such things, but their blood and pulse told all. His was slightly elevated, but not nearly as much as he made it appear outwardly. His heavy movements caused the ivory and silver headdress that he wore to quiet jangling, the chimes and dangling sapphires quietly clinking against one another. Neither of his two companion astromancers came to his aid either, perhaps used to his behavior. None of the others of their cadre were apparently recovered yet, and so it was simply just the three. Scuttlebutt was that the remainder were all so depleted from the effort of combating their Nipponese counterparts that they would be in recovery for over a week simply to get back on their feet.
Eventually the swooning astromancer whipped around again into a more proper standing motion.
"Alas, flawed construction by those lesser students of the stars was expected," the High Astromancer simpered before reaching forward to take possession of the leather sack from Genevieve.
Only now did his heartrate spike, Johanna noticed from behind a schooled placid expression with predatory intensity. Frustratingly, the mask prevented more careful study. It had been expertly molded into the shape of a somewhat flattened dragon's maw, the entire thing made out of pure jet and painted delicately to give the appearance of a perfectly clear night sky. It was common enough knowledge by those 'graced' with knowledge of the normally very secretive astromancers that the paints on their jet masks were of specific constellations. The meanings of which Johanna could not say, for there were so damn many. Each of the major towers could even profess to have different interpretations of what different constellations meant.
But there were the faintest trembles in his delicate powdered fingers.
"Ah…I see," the High Astromancer muttered as he unveiled the sack, breath catching as he saw its contents.
Johanna could not see through her own master's back, but she could see as the astromancer managed to draw out some small sparks of electricity forth. They danced in the air upwards and then gathered in a small bundle over the open palm of the sorcerer's hand. If she had not suffered worse injuries, she might have flinched at the sight of such things considering how painful they had proven to be. Picking them up from the bottom of the ocean had not been particularly pleasant either. But she had suffered worse, and so instead was able to focus well enough on the other two astromancers as they huddled with their leader. Small zaps and sparks could be heard, and at one point Johanna blinked hard as a gust of wind progressed from the center of the room to the walls in all directions.
Moments passed in quiet study before the High Astromancer looked up again.
"And this was all that was left?"
"Yes, High Astromancer Bao," Genevieve replied in flawless Cathayan. "It took some time for the oceans to calm, it is certain that there are some fragments carried out into too far depths for us to plumb safely."
"Mmm…well, we could not have expected too much from Nippon," Bao sniffed imperiously as he very delicately closed the sack back up again and handed it off to a subordinate. "As it is, you have done as we asked, and our tower shall be making make note of the Jade Dragon's assistance to the Emperor himself."
After more than a decade, Johanna would by a liar if she didn't say she didn't feel a bit of pride in the Monastery. The favor of the Dragon Emperor was a powerful thing, and to yet to gain it no small matter. Yet here, and now, they had succeeded. And perhaps this would be enough for her to take the next test. Or maybe they would continue forever. A state that she could not, if she was to be honest with herself, fully say she would despise. It was what had driven her forth from the crater of Talabheim in the first place, to range across the world. And here, now, she could still hope that she could do more good than evil, to save more than she would kill. She had to. She simply had to. Even if she worshipped no Gods any longer – for she knew Taal would never have her, not an unnatural abomination such as she. Sigmar had blessed Genevieve, but to hope for the same would be the utter depths of delusion.
But sometimes, when she stood atop a mountain or high pagoda, she would find herself gazing west.
Wondering. Thinking.
Did her father, who had stifled her throughout her early life, who had accepted her back home with open arms, who had called her monster and all manner of things that stung as fresh wounds even to this day…live? Or had one of the innumerable threats to the Empire finally laid him low? What of her brothers? Had they become fine men on their own, without father beating them about the head with her own accomplishments and character? She had been forbidden from speaking them, on threat of having to fight her own father and potentially taste a runefang's bite. But at the least she had been able to see them, even if they'd been cloaked and hooded as she rode away at Genevieve's side in the dead of night. Or maybe they'd all gotten sick, some disease, perhaps. An entire plague could sweep across the Old World and she would not hear of it until months later, here in Cathay.
And what of her friends? The last she'd seen of Frederick von Hohenzollern, he'd been one-armed, beaten bloody, swathed in bandages, and was missing most of his teeth. The man she might have married. Had fought alongside in Nordland to put a stop to the traitor and heretic Gruber, where she'd been introduced to not just his wife Natasha but Ortrud Hertwig and Stephan von Kessel as well. Stephan had been limping from the fight even as she left, Ortrud not without wounds as well. But they had families that they loved, and were loved in turn. Children. Spouses. Hopefully they were all still happy, but how could she possibly know if they were not? There was not a messenger in the world that would travel all that distance just to pass a letter, and if there were she had not the funds to pay them.
Her one marriage had been an utter sham. An enforced thing to a man she'd not even laid with once before he'd died in Ostland as they fought against Zacharias.
Who did she have now? Her sire and master?
Sometimes, Johanna could see the appeal of joining the 'Sisterhood', for there one would find those who knew on a level that no one else could what it was to become a vampire. But she had no desire to be shackled to Neferata, especially now that she knew of what she'd done to not just the Strigoi but so many others.
"Johanna?"
"Mmm?"
Rapidly blinking, she found that she'd fallen so deep into her thoughts that the discussion between Genevieve and the astromancers had ended. Now they were the only two left within the room.
"Melancholy is a standard affliction for many of our kind," her sire spoke softly, expression kind, "We all fall into it sometimes. But we need to get moving now, so come along."
"Ah," Johanna bowed her head, though her cheeks did not quite 'flush' properly anymore, "My apologies, master. Where are we heading now?"
"Back to the monastery, actually."
Johanna paused in her following.
"Uh…what?"
Her master turned about to smile again.
"Johanna, I believe it is time for you to take the test to reaching the next rank of disciple."
"I…thank you, master!"
The battle here was won, but Nippon had a vast number of bodies remaining to throw at the Empire, and everyone knew it. The Great Bastion was under assault again, but then it always was. It was the curse of being hundreds of miles long. Entire tribes could be assaulting different portions of it and not know of each other's presence. The hobgoblin Khanates had been stirred up in the west by something or other, likely another assassination of a Khan. The ensuing conflict to divvy up the territory could spill in any direction. To the south, the Khureshi beginning to squabble amongst themselves without the threat of the frost-laden beastmen building another bridge of bone and sinew to cross the waters again. Wherever the Frostlords had gone, it definitely wasn't good. In Ind, there was another Ascendancy Tournament coming, and Johanna knew that there would be much blood shed there in the name of the Devas. The rewards of their favor could be great, but still.
The world kept moving, despite her. Well, best to run to keep up then.
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