Warhammer Fantasy: A Dynasty of Dynamic Alcoholism

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americanCaeser said:
Actually, while they do not have knights Arabyans are actually quite renowned for their heavy cavalry, more along the lines of cataphracts than knights sure, but still nothing to sneeze at
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Yes, this has been brought up to me just a few minutes ago :p

If anything, this only makes my decision to make the Arabyan beastmen centigor-heavy even better, for big cavalry fights out in the sands and before the walls of the coastal cities.
 
Is there a reason why Deva act that way or ind is some sorta experiment by an old one like truth Sayers in Albion?

Is it possible for a deva to permanently fuse with another? So surprised there is no specific anti chaos deva?

Can a worshipper of one deva able to invoke prayer of another one activate specific magic?

Are power of deva limited to ind or their worshippers can invoke miracles outside ind?
 
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torroar said:
As the Land of a Thousand Gods, there was 0% chance for purely secular magic to natively exist like in the Empire. The spells/prayers are channeled with the aid of one's patron Deva, for the most part. Others in the interim thousands of years have brought in scrolls and teachings from elsewhere, like the sorcerers of Cathay or the magicians of Araby. There is no distinct Deva of Magic, one who has overarching command/control over it like Yemaraja over Death and Kelinda over Life/Sun/Dusk. There was, but Kairos Fateweaver got that one, and the rest of the Deva were so freaked out about how that one died that they rathered other Deva absorb their essences and domains than go down that way.
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Sounds a lot like how Nehekharan Lich Priests did/do magic, makes me wonder if Ind was inspired by said use of magic alongside gods way back when.
torroar said:
Yes, this has been brought up to me just a few minutes ago :p

If anything, this only makes my decision to make the Arabyan beastmen centigor-heavy even better, for big cavalry fights out in the sands and before the walls of the coastal cities.
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Makes sense to me. When most of your land is wide open desert and similarly clear terrain it inspires lots of cavalry combat, especially when like said lots of centigors as main beastmen around.
 
Its the form of magic humans can use out of the box that is least likely to turn your skin into flying snakes or seven sided triangles. It makes sense that it would be the style civilizations that last would gravitate to.
 
So I've noticed that there's a topic that hasn't been talked about yet.
torroar said:
With that, the monk took off their hood and pulled their face covering away. Revealed was a woman who was distinctly not Cathayan, and unmistakably so. Her features were wholly Imperial, though they had become quite pale at some point, her hair a vibrant red. She crossed her arms over her chest, revealing more odd purple Cathayan glyphs along her rather impressively muscled forearms. In fact, now that she had stood up, Elspeth realized that she towered over even the Hohenzollern twins. But even more important than any of that, Elspeth finally realized why the cloak of Shyish was so familiar.
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What exactly are our two favorite Jade Dragons doing with the "Monks of the Chained Ghost"? How has Johanna's training been going, does the fact that Johanna apparently have the same glowing Cathayan glyphs mean that she(and Genevieve) been learning from them? Who exactly are the Monks of the Chained Ghost and what are their history and relationship with the Jade Dragons and other Monk orders(and the rest of Cathay). If they are Cathay's primary "undead fighters", why did Genevieve never meet them back when she was training under Master Po and what exactly are their stance with "none hostile" undead like Genevieve, Johanna and that one Strigoi?
 
torroar said:
If anything, this only makes my decision to make the Arabyan beastmen centigor-heavy even better, for big cavalry fights out in the sands and before the walls of the coastal cities.
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Might I suggest that you look into Bradwarden the Centaur Warrunner from Dota 2 then?

He is a Centaur that lived primarily in the Deserts and built up his name in the mighty arenas of the sands. You might get some cool inspirations from him.

"It's said that a centaur's road is paved with the corpses of the fallen. For the one called Warrunner, it has been a long road indeed. To outsiders, the four-legged clans of Druud are often mistaken for simple, brutish creatures. Their language has no written form; their culture lacks pictographic traditions, structured music, formalized religion. For centaurs, combat is the perfect articulation of thought, the highest expression of self. If killing is an art among centaurs, then Bradwarden the Warrunner is their greatest artist. He rose to dominance on the proving grounds of Omexe, an ancient arena where centaur clans have for millennia gathered to perform their gladiatorial rites. As his fame spread, spectators came from far and wide to see the great centaur in action. Always the first to step into the arena, and the last to leave, he composes a masterpiece in each guttering spray, each thrust of blood-slickened blade-length. It is the poetry of blood on steel, flung in complex patterns across the pale sands of the killing floor.

Warrunner defeated warrior after warrior, until the arena boomed with the cheering of his name, and he found himself alone, the uncontested champion of his kind. The great belt of Omexe was bestowed, wrapped around his broad torso, but in his victory, the death-artist found only emptiness. For what is a warrior without a challenge? The great centaur galloped out of Omexe that day with a new goal. To his people, Warrunner is the greatest warrior to ever step into the arena. Now he has set out to prove he is the greatest fighter who has ever lived"

P.S

Just a suggestion so it's fine if you don't use him. :D

I just got curious on what plans you have for Centaurs that fight in the Deserts and stuff like that.

Edit: Alright he did not fight in a giant sea of sweet desserts.
 
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I don't mean to cause any problems for you @torroar, but with the recent revelation that no ogre tribe went to Ostland this bit may need changing:
torroar said:
In another life…the ogre known as Captain Urgdug Greatbellow the Sizable would not have been born in Ostland. A fourth generation Ogre, his family and tribe had heard of the Three Emperors. Tiny folk, but often delicious and quite willing to pay as they quarreled amongst themselves. Perfect for a mercenary band to make its way for some time. But in another life, their Tyrant would refuse to go, and instead deviously took over the territory of many tribes who had left. In turn, they would become one of the greatest and most powerful tribes around…at least for a few generations.

Eventually, in this mirror life, Urgdug would have clawed his way to the top, and beaten his father and grandfather to death and ritually eaten them. He would have become a mighty Tyrant, ruler of his tribe. His strength would be awe-inspiring, his influence wide ranging, and his wealth and gut impressive beyond doubt. Then, in the brutal manner of Mountains of Mourn, he would die. Either torn apart by an upcoming Tyrant, killed by one of the creatures which inhabited the range, by hobgoblins, or by any other manner of things.

But he was not. His tribe migrated to the Empire, lost most of its members in a battle between all three Emperors of the year, and headed north to escape the violence. After all, one couldn't eat if they were dead. The first generation was too violent, and carried with them the culture of the land they stole from the Sky Titans. Cannibalism, worship of the Great Maw, and largely brutish strength and idiocy. The second generation spoke to the humans around them, because they knew how to get more food, through something called farming. At first many of the ogres disliked this, but the evidence was undeniable. Besides, it wasn't hard to learn. Simple, and easy, their greater strength allowing them to rip trees away and plow the land with their bare hands if necessary.

The third generation distanced itself further from the ideals of the Great Maw. They had little use for it. There was fighting aplenty against the greenskins and beastmen of the Forest of Shadows, and food to eat by farming and trading. They learned the value of gold, and the last of the first generation, the natives of the Mountains of Mourn, died. With them went the Butchers and Slaughtermasters. They grew used to their lives in Ostland, and as they grew older some began to wear the white and black.

The fourth had the first members to join the Ostland military, though they were not the first of ogres in general. Another tribe held that distinction. But it was Urgdug who grew fastest, and strongest, and soon he became a natural leader amongst the ogres. For all the cultural changes and meldings, the biggest and loudest ogre was still instinctively looked to as a leader. Thus, Captain Urgdug, promoted by the previous Count Hohenzollern in a move which cemented the loyalty of an entire tribe. After all, their Captain was their leader, and he was well fed, and incredibly strong.
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iggyfan said:
I don't mean to cause any problems for you @torroar, but with the recent revelation that no ogre tribe went to Ostland this bit may need changing:
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Nah, its fine. The tribe was heavily depleted by the time it got to the north - as in they'd lost their Slaughtermaster and Butchers and their Tyrant. They maintained worship of the Great Maw for the first generation, but pretty much lost it quickly due to total lack of Maw religious authorities. Oral tradition helped carry it on for that first generation...but it petered out without reinforcement. Without a Tyrant, religious enforcement, or proper records, they were basically just the dregs of their tribe, and straight up forgot what its original name was by Urgdug's time and had become something all together. When I said that no tribe settled in Ostland, I meant it. It wasn't a functioning tribe, it was the most base elements of a tribe, i.e. ogres that settled.
 
iggyfan said:
I don't mean to cause any problems for you @torroar, but with the recent revelation that no ogre tribe went to Ostland this bit may need changing:
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Like GM said its not so much a tribe settled Ostland as lots of remains of one did that had lost their traditional leadership in the process. With a lack of Maw priests and normal Tyrant leading things the ogres took on the local culture as a replacement.

Its kinda like how in RL history a refugee group goes to live somewhere else and if they have lost a lot of cultural history and knowledge they would take in surrounding one instead.
 
Though the cultural admixture definitely goes both ways. Ogres have a sort of prestige that well outstrips their actual numbers and will be distorting our own culture the way their asses would distort a chowhall bench. We are one hell of a weird melting pot and I can only theorize about what it looks like for your average tradesman in your average alehall.

I fully expect to start seeing normal blokes take up ogre titles/kennings based on their own feats any day now.
 
Hey, I've been going through the thread and I saw mentions of a debate about tech levels and how one shouldn't dredge up an old argument and I was interested in reading the discussion. Could someone point me to the most comprehensive one please so that I can unterstand the thread's stance on these things?
 
ContemplateLife said:
Hey, I've been going through the thread and I saw mentions of a debate about tech levels and how one shouldn't dredge up an old argument and I was interested in reading the discussion. Could someone point me to the most comprehensive one please so that I can unterstand the thread's stance on these things?
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I think the thread's stance boils down to "Torroar isn't interested in letting us break the setting by inventing just any advanced piece of technology we can imagine inventing."

We can introduce complicated steampunk shit but it's inevitably going to be expensive and available only on a limited scale (e.g. Vapor Tanks). We can introduce stuff that historically was invented in the Early Modern period of real life history, at a reasonable pace (e.g. the seed drill or the ring bayonet). But he's not gonna let us just arbitrarily cherrypick a wish list of every technology invented between 1600 and 1875 AD and blitz the tech tree as fast as possible.

Because it'd fuck up the game balance, and would involve blatant abuse of OOC knowledge about which innovations are possible and which ones are rewarding.
 
Ok, makes sense to me. But just to be clear, technological advancements are not fundamentally impossible on Mallus, just harder than on earth due to All the Bad™ and competing with funding for magic and churches which help directly as well as obviously not going to happen on the same timescale and in the same way than on earth. (And by this I mean widespread, sustainable tech advancements, obviously the steamtanks etc are really cool and obviously should be hard to make, especially at this stage of the empire's knowledge but don't really factor into the majority of the populations daily routine).
 
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[CANON] O.M.O Report 1 - REAPER35
  • Sidestory
    • To: Count Hohenzollern

    From: Ostland Mercenary Office

    Dear Count, we have a unique opportunity for you but only for a limited time. As you know, there has been a famine in Tilea for some years now, and it seems that while large numbers of fighting men are normally welcome there... the city-states were much less interested in feeding massive mercenary armies when there own citizens were starving. dozens of contracts were ended, even some that had been held for years. needless to say, the mercenaries weren't best pleased with this turn of events... But what other choices did they have but to leave and look for greener pastures? Many of the Dwarf companies found employ with the high king, and some of the less reputable turned to banditry. Those that had some skill on the seas found some limited success in Sartosa. others have found employ in Estalia, or as Shepards ing Brittonia, as well as in Averland or some other province, including Ostland. Still others, mostly of the greenskin variety, joined the growing WAAAAAGH to the south. A few Braved the Border Princes either to set themselves up as petty rulers or to work for the few silver to be had there. There were also those that were more adventurer than merc to begin with and sought their fortune across the ocean. there were also those that joined in the petty squabbles of the Araby nobility, and some that just went home to wait for better markets... NOW however, with the rumor of the famine coming to an end... the companies are letting their make due contracts lapse. Why make a few silvers along with rations for your men in the border kingdoms or eat sand trying to fight calvary that fades in and out of the desert, when a Tilean Prince will pay stacks of gold for you to fight a proper army? Unfortunately, for them, the city-states aren't quite yet ready to get back to their bickering. This has left dozens of companies waiting for contracts... But they won't wait forever. sooner or later, and we're betting sooner, some Princeling is going to insult some merchant and the Tileans will be back to business as usual. But for now we have this window of opportunity. Here are some of the companies up for hire.

    The Steel Rain [Race: Human] [Origin: Oldworld] [Description: a motley mix of men drawn from all over the old world. Some were single or small unit mercs, others are orphans from larger companies that got wiped out. The only unifying factor is that they all can use a bow.] [Numbers: 500 Archers]

    The One-Eyed Jacks [Race: Human] [Origins: Tilea] [Description: a fairly normal unit of crossbowmen like many other units found across the old world. their only (barely) distinguishing characteristic is they seem to be more boastful than most. Claiming that there enemies are all one-eyed after they shot the other out.] [Numbers: 250 Crossbowmen]

    The Famous Forty-Ninth Halbarders [Race: Human] [Origins: The Broder Princes] [Description: Not sure what they are supposedly famous for... the story seems to change every time they are asked... but they ARE Halbarders.] [Numbers: 500 Halbarders]

    The Smoking Manticores [Race: Human] [Origins: Empire] [Description: this was originally two separate units, 5th Hochland Handgunners and Duke Albright's Pikes from Averland, that found they worked extremely well together and joined forces. the hand gunners deserted after some local lord pocketed their wages, and the pikes were raised by some umpteenth son of some rich noble in Averland that tried his hand at lordling in the border princes, couldn't hack it, and went merc. The two units fought together in one of Tilea's many wars, and the lordling died somewhere along the way, and the surviving officers decided to join the companies and change the name. Now they are a pike and shot unit led by Captain Harl Schmit.] [Numbers: 1000 Pikemen, 500 Handgunners, 1 Captain Harl Schmit.]

    The Painted Ladies [Race: Human] [Origins: Estalia] [Description: While Tilea has had its problems, so has Estalia. After their Chaos war there were many more women than men since soo many of their men fell in battle. This led to the remaining men highly sought after and most were soon married... this left a certain demographic of working women with very few customers. However, most women that choose this profession aren't ones to just sit down and starve. One matron, House Mother Isabel Porta, decided to find a way for her girls to survive. the answer came in the form of a shipment of pistols that arrived right after the war ended leaving the poor merchant with a hold full of almost worthless cargo and mounting docking fees, fees that eventually led to the ship and cargo being seized and auctioned off for cheap. And a unfortunate horse breeder outside of town. Thus the Ladies were reborn as pistoleers.] [Numbers: 250 Pistoleers, 1 House Mother Isabel Porta]

    The Brotherhood of Alms [Race: Human] [Origins: Tilea] [Description: Leave it to Telia to have a guild for their beggers. And it seems people become a lot less generous when they are starving. This guild seeing that they could either find meaningful employment or starve, those that could picked up what weapons they could, mostly sharpened sticks, and hired themselves out. this of course was before the famine got REALLY bad and the mercs were mostly fired. By then this unit had armed itself with actual spears.] [Numbers: 1500 Spearmen]

    The Bleeding Edges [Race: Human] [Orgins: the Border Princes] [Description: Another generic unit. This could be your swordsman company, there are many swordsman companies like it but this one could be yours.] [Numbers: 500 swordsmen]

    The Disgraced [Race: Human] [Origins: Britonnia] [Description: This unit went out to fight a small warherd with their local lord. Like most Britonnian Knights, he charged in leaving his men-at-arms behind to charge in on foot. While he DID kill an impressive number of gors, one knight against many gors ended predictably just before the men-at-arms arrived and crushed the warherd with their superior numbers. While they returned with their lord's body, the lady of the castle was distraught and furious. She exiled them. Now they show their shame by only wearing black.] [Numbers: 250 Men-at-Arms]

    General Gustove's Grand Army [Race: Human] [Origins: Oldworld] [Description: When the City-States started to shed their excess companies, and it became apparent that no one would be hiring them again soon, General Gustove called together several company commanders to discuss the issue, and eventually talked them into following him into Araby to hire out their services to the Pashas and Emirs as a single large unit.] [Numbers: 2000 spearmen, 1000 swordmen, 1500 pikemen, 500 halbarders, 200 scouts, 500 archers, 750 crossbowmen, 250 handgunners, 1000 mounted archers, 500 light calvary, 250 heavy calvary, 5 great canons with crews, 5 priest of Shallya, 1 General Gustove Gerettie.]

    We here at the O.M.O hope you find this document helpful Lord Hohenzollern.
     
  • Sidestory
    • 2327-2341 IC Interlude: Jade Journeys In War
  • Threadmarks
    • 2327-2341 IC Interlude: Jade Journeys In War​

    [2327 IC] Wei-Jin, Capital City of All Greater Cathay, Seat of the Dragon Throne

    Wei-Jin had been described in ancient days by the explorer Marco Polare as the greatest city he had ever witnessed in the entire world. It had been, in fact, the first true Cathayan city ever built, long, long ago, established back before even the nation of Nehekhara had encountered anyone from the Far East. It had been built not deep within the heartlands. It was not built along the coast. Many such other cities and towns had done so, the bountiful agriculture or aquaculture offered by such options attractive and easily capable at growing and sustaining significant growth and eventual stability. But in truth, Wei-Jin had not been built where it was because it was easy, but because it was hard. Because before Wei-Jin, there was no Great Bastion, and the tribes of the Hung, the Tong, and so many others had freely invaded from the north. There was no point to building something further inland under such threats. That is not, however, to say that others did not try. Indeed, before and after the coming of the first Celestial Emperor, that which is known as Cathay in the modern day had been split in a great many directions, a great many kingdoms who warred with one another as much as with the northern invaders. Thus, there were other cities, yes, and by the strict chronological reckonings of various foundations, there are older ones that exist today. Sometimes unified, sometimes not.

    But the modern nation of Cathay, a united Cathay, began in Wei-Jin. Founded not as a place of peace, but of a place of war. Of defiance. A bulwark made manifest out of the will and strength of its inhabitants. Comparing the records and dates with scholars might inform one that the Emperor Xen Huong had ruled his territory from Wei-Jin in, at least, almost three thousand years before the coming of Sigmar. But then, Xen Huong ruled only the Kingdom of Wei-Jin, title or not. It was not until another arrived as the line of Huong died out from sickness and endless warfare, that Greater Cathay's true journey to reunification could begin. As had been done in the past, a descendant dynasty of the First Celestial Dragon Emperor, identified in some apocryphal records as being named Zheng, arrived and took control of the city with sheer force of will. A beast, a dragon, from the skies, dominating and commanding a realm of men, as had been done since time immemorial across Cathay. So had Cathay unified and fractured again and again, unified by a Dynasty of Dragons, until that same Dynasty faltered and was replaced. Then, generally agreed upon to be the year -1800, by the Imperial Calendar, the dragons of the Wu Dynasty under Empress Huang succeeded in their goals of unifying the land into a single Empire once more after it had been left to falter by the Shu Dynasty, simultaneously building the Great Bastion in the same measure. No mere mortal could organize the construction of the Bastion, no man could ensure its completion despite constant attacks and straining resources in less than a century. Stretching hundreds of miles long, at minimum a quarter mile in height at its lowest points, the Great Bastion stretched – and still stretches – across the much of Cathay's northern border east of the mountain range in the northwest. Each segment, responsible for large swathes of the wall, is garrisoned by tens of thousands of soldiers – for the denizens of the Chaos Wastes were, have been, and forever will be relentless and unending. Of the three main northern cities, Nan-Gau in the west, Wei-Jin in the center, and Port Ki in the east, all are heavily defended redoubts, but none so much as the capital.

    It was Wei-Jin which began the tales of cities in Cathay being crafted whole cloth from jade. This, too, is largely an untruth that has taken on a life of its own – magically enchanted or not, there is no way jade would be used solely for constructing a city. There simply would never be enough. When the explorer Marco Polare was brought before the Dragon Throne, beholding the sitting Celestial Dragon Emperor, whose blood as ever directly descends from the First Celestial Dragon Emperor's sons and daughters who formed the first true noble houses of Cathay, he was blindfolded by his captors long before Wei-Jin itself was within sight. The bewildered and confused Tilean, so used to thinking of his home cities of Tilea as the pinnacle of civilization, was shocked to find that he knelt within a palace of brilliant jade, white marble, and gold. The sheer size of the halls and ceilings built over literal thousands of years to accommodate the Emperors and Empresses and their own specific proclivities, surely staggered and practically struck the man dumb. And, yes, while the Celestial District was indeed full of buildings of jade, it was not every single one, only the towers of the astromancers and the highest ranked nobility who bore blood of the dragon within their veins. And yet, the tales persisted.

    The Jade Palace was, however, truly magnificent. It was, in truth, practically a small city unto itself in its various wings and towers. There was the royal hall, yes, but also sections dedicated to the courts, to the scholars, to artists, and even separate manses built within its superstructure meant to house any visiting dignitaries from the major martial art schools. Tens of thousands visited it daily, meeting with magistrates and legal representatives for all a manner of purposes – from licenses to charters and more. It had grown, immensely, since its first incarnation, each successive Emperor and era of the Empire adding to its size.

    Johanna hated it.

    "I never did make it here last time," Genevieve murmured, her voice so quiet that only a vampire's ears could catch it, and even then, Johanna had to strain. "Master Po took me away from the cities and towns, save when absolutely necessary as he journeyed about. Rightfully cautious, I suppose."

    "Mmm."

    "But you…you've been here before, haven't you," Genevieve continued, her voice completely controlled, utterly calm.

    Which was a feat, considering the guards that were surrounding them on all sides. Each of the Palace Guard possessed heartbeats, to be sure, but all twelve of them had no doubt been extensively trained and equipped precisely to be deserving of their positions. For all the nepotism that might exist within Cathay, the Dragon Emperors quite simply refused to have anything but the best when it came to the ranks of the Golden Ten Thousand. Those who escorted them through the palace did not speak, their boots thumping loudly upon the jade and marble floors, the sight of them enough to part the crowds like a ship cutting through the sea. Though eleven of the guards were impassive, near inhumanely stoic, the twelfth who happened to be standing directly behind Johanna was practically melting his eyeballs staring at the back of her head.

    "…yes, master," Johanna finally replied, ignoring the glare behind her.

    She did not have fond memories of the Jade Palace anymore. There used to be, but they had all long since become soured and retroactively unhappy things. And, given the guard behind her, at least some still remembered when she had been here last. One would think that impossible, given the amount of time since then, but then again, those who rose high within the Celestial Empire often benefitted from the various elixirs and pills created by the royal alchemists. Said alchemists, in turn, benefitted from Dragon Emperors themselves granting them the use of the blood of the dragon. Ping had nearly…damn it.

    "Halt," one of the Palace Guard barked, the entire formation and thus those within it freezing immediately.

    The doors were just as Johanna remembered them. Stretching to the height of a Bonegrinder and wide enough for a main city street thoroughfare, the shaped slabs of pure jade were intricately engraved and painted to display many of the most important moments of Cathay's history. The First Celestial Dragon Emperor, or at least that was what it was presumed to be, stretched throughout the entire work of battles and deeds, cities founded, and discoveries made, for despite being long gone – or long slumbering by the reckoning of some theorists – without him the whole of Greater Cathay would not have become as powerful as it had. One giant stood at each door, and though neither were Bonegrinders they had the potential to live long enough to become such. By Johanna's reckoning, given the utterly massive guandao they bore, the armor that sheathed their bodies, the lack of hunch to their frame and the dangerously bright spark in their eyes, they likely certainly would. Each had been installed within the palace as the Final Guards of the Gate – though it lost something when translated to Reikspiel – by the Empress Huang a full five centuries ago, her last act before being succeeded by her son and departing 'to the Heavens once more'.

    Today, though, the gates were opened, the gargantuan levers the giants used to open and close it already utilized. As such, the reason they had halted was instead because they had to wait for permission. Quite simply put, none ventured within the Royal Hall of the Celestial Dragon Emperors without permission. It was a fatal decision to attempt to do so otherwise. Said hall could also fit the entirety of the Imperial Court and the Golden Ten Thousand all at once, though such an occasion rarely occurred. Still, a hundred more of the Palace Guard approached them down the massive length, made small by the massive pillars which held up the ceiling and the banners created by teams of dozens of weavers and dyers which hung from the walls.

    "Who approaches the throne of the Celestial Dragon Emperor, the Son of Heaven, Guardian of Cathay, Lord of Sky and Earth…,"

    Johanna tuned out the spiel as she glanced around. It really, really hadn't changed much. It should have been more shocking to her, but then again she might well have gotten a bit more used to things being inviolable to the passage of time than she used to be. Still, she wasn't so lost in her memories that she didn't begin moving again when the rest of the guards did, eventually wrenching her eyes forward and welding them in place with willpower as they walked along the lushly carpeted path. The Throne itself was magical – she hadn't known that last time. It was only her nature as a vampire now which let her see the immense power woven through its entire frame, though perhaps that was simply a result of being the seat of choice for the Dragon Emperors for thousands and thousands of years? As it was, the bloody thing took up the entire wall, spiraling artwork and carvings spreading from wall to wall, and from ceiling to floor, all centering upon the absolutely enormous length of the 'seat' portion proper.

    And yet, all of it, all the artwork, the tapestries, the decorations, were easily missed because of the one who sat upon the throne.

    "So. These are the brave monks of the Jade Dragon who shattered a Storm Altar of Nippon."

    Today, the Emperor Taizong of the Wu Dynasty graced them with a human form. In most aspects, at least. His eyes were blatantly serpentine, while a magnificent set of antler-like horns sprouted from the sides of his head and extended backwards. Johanna could see the weave of magic about his body, with Chamon being the strongest, though Ghur was a close second. His robes were of what appeared to be literally woven and enchanted gold, not just goldcloth, and it brushed and clung like silk. He bore no sword, nor even a dagger, but then one such as he did not need one. None could mistake him for what he was, and of all Cathayan citizens only the insane or those who worshipped Chaos would dare attempt to bring him harm. His presence was distinct and seemed to press down upon them even though he was sitting with arms folded in his sleeves. His scent was undeniably inhuman, and dangerously enticing.

    Most unfortunately, however, was the fact that his eyes slid right off of Genevieve as she bowed, and struck Johanna so heavily that she was frozen halfway into a bow of her own.

    "We remember the Little Red Tiger," the Emperor said tonelessly. "Her hair, even as that of a corpse, is…most unique."

    Genevieve paused and lifted upwards, ignoring decorum slightly to raise an eyebrow at Johanna, which was enough to remind the younger vampire to bow deeply.

    "This humble one is merely a student to the Jade Dragon, now," Johanna said as calmly as she could, biting back a curse as her voice trembled.

    Of course he could see that they were undead. He was the Emperor.

    "Hmm…yes. It must be so. The Little Red Tiger left Cathay long ago, leaving political devastation in her wake. The death of her lover Gan Ping-,"

    Johanna grit her teeth, her fists clenching together so hard she drew her own sluggish blood from her palms.

    "And the death of Gan Yu, one of Our most beloved and successful Tiger Generals were tragic times."

    The monster inside lashed at the bars of its cage, but Johanna barely throttled it down. It wouldn't matter even if she let it out. A far greater predator than her own was sat before her, his words barbed probes. She wouldn't get more than a step forward before she would be cut down by the Palace Guard all around her. Even if she somehow miraculously made it past all of them, there was no chance that the Emperor could not strike her down instantaneously.

    "Although…,"

    Johanna blinked.

    "It did reveal much corruption in Our court, politicians thinking to manipulate Our generals and Our champions for advantages. So please, little twisted tiger, raise your head."

    She did so, her entire body feeling impossibly stiff and jerky as she forced herself into a rote attention posture. Very carefully, she looked just past the Emperor's head, never directly into his glowing pupils. Even still she could see him smile thinly out of the corner of her eyes.

    "So. We see before Us those of the Whore Queen's get, and yet not of the Pale Court whether willingly or unwillingly," the Emperor's voice was sibilant. "Genevieve Sandrine du Pointe du Lac Dieudonné. We remember your travels with Master Po, who was so beloved that he was granted the right to form the Jade Dragon in the first place. We also remember the slaver, the enslaved, and the pirate before being struck down by Master Po – his curiosity, his student, his jealously guarded secret."

    This time, it was Genevieve who twitched. It was one thing to accept that their status as vampires was known. It was another to know the specific particulars of the matter. Or of their lives.

    "This humble one begs forgiveness-," Genevieve immediately again, eyes locked on the ground.

    "It is granted," Taizong shrugged, settling back onto their throne, little smile growing again. "Did you think your travels unnoticed? The Dragon Throne has been combatting the Pale Court within the shadows since they first reached out with cold fingers into our nation, young vampire…and others as well. Plotting Lahmians," he said the word distastefully, a massive undercurrent of seething loathing beneath the mild tone, "Muderous Blood Knights," he spat the last word hatefully and openly, "The occasional mad Necrarch, the pathetic Strigoi, the proud Brahtriya, the virulent Jade-Blooded…in truth, the Dragon Throne has been forced to confront the Mahtmasi and even a Von Carstein far too gone from home before."

    Neither vampire said anything. There was no question asked, merely a terrifyingly aware declaration of knowledge.

    "But no, that is not why you have been summoned forth," Taizong finally unfolded his arms from his billowing sleeves, revealing gleaming golden claws. "If We wished to have you both ended for past misdeeds, We would have done so. Rather," the Emperor smiled with sharp and pointed teeth behind those all-too-human looking lips, "We have summoned you to reward you."

    His smile was such that his eyes were closed into narrow slits that was practically closed.

    "For your destruction of the Storm Altar, your service to Our astromancers, our armies, and past deeds of valor and glory in this…despicable war," his smile briefly fell into a hateful snarl before his expression smoothed out again.

    Ever so slightly, they relaxed. But only until they saw the look on the Emperor's face, at which point both immediately tensed again.

    "Your skills are misplaced in…merely wandering across the battlefield, hoping to contribute here and there," Taizong said with a small, amused huff. "As a reward…you shall gain…direction," Taizong stood smoothly and began stalking towards them with golden robes quietly swishing.

    They did not move, even as he finally came to a halt before them well within range to attack. In a movement that even Johanna's senses strained to discern, he withdrew two small tokens that she found her gaze locked on. She quite literally no longer possessed a pulse, and yet if she had hers would have begun pounding again. Sweat should have been pouring down her back, a cold chill should have been making its way up her spine. Master Genevieve looked concerned as well, not just because of the symbol on the small gold and jade discs, not just because of the Imperial seal that was engraved upon both while retaining intricately unique alterations each, but because of the clear magical nature of each of them. Johanna, however, was focused upon the one held in the Emperor's left hand. It was impossible. It should have been impossible.

    "That…," she croaked out before her voice faltered.

    The Emperor glanced down at it, and then up at her, offering a cruel smirk.

    "Ah, yes. This one must be familiar to you," Taizong said, voice deep and low and just slightly inhuman. "It was recovered from Gan Ping's body. And now, you shall bear it, Johanna Fuerbach. For you both shall be my newest Fangs."

    In the end, a hundred and twelve Palace Guard around them, the Celestial Dragon Emperor Taizong before them…there quite simply wasn't any possibility of refusal.

    ==================================================​

    [2327-2328 IC] Zhigeng Province, Capital of Tangzhou, Blue Scarf Rebellion Headquarters,

    The Blue Scarves were, to the common ranks, a righteous rebellion indeed. The distant cruel tyranny of the Dragon Throne was too much to bear for so many generations. The soldiers who were meant to protect them were too corrupt, the police forces even worse. The suppression of their worship of Chi'an Chi had proven the last straw. And so they had risen up, risen up and cast down their oppressors. The reason the Nipponese invaders had flowed around the Sijun province was because they were holy, and they were protected from such things. Indeed, some of the Blue Scarves had declared that the Nipponese were like a searing cerulean wind which was scouring the land free of the tyrants, and was one that would recede in time. And surely, by then, the Blue Scarves would be ready to spread the glorious word of Chi'an Chi once more to the devastated lands. Technically, of course, this was unlikely.

    The Zhigeng province directly touched the coast, after all, and though they had been avoided by the Nipponese thus far, it would not last. An entire stretch of beach and coast to land ships upon would not be discounted forever, no matter what deals the prophets of the Blue Scarves had secretly made with Nippon's generals and admirals. In the other direction, the forces of the accursed Dragon Throne, who had ever stood against the worship of Chi'an Chi, marshalled upon the border of the lost province. Terracotta vanguard were being filled with steam and magic and would bring death. Beasts that sparked lightning and soared through the air were being corralled and prepared. There was even word that one of the infamous and legendary Stone Pagoda was being awoken and prepared by the sorcerers of the Throne. The Nipponese on one side, the rest of Cathay on the other, the Blue Scarves stood completely surrounded.

    And yet…they had that most dangerous of concoctions and most powerful of weapons...hope. It was what filled their bellies when the rations were running low, channeled strength into their arms despite chill and tiredness, and energized them all. The more they worshipped, the more Chi'an Chi clearly favored them. The leadership began to sprout feathers, their faces reshaping towards avian aesthetics and structures. Their mightiest warriors grew larger, taller, their limbs gaining barbs and spikes when they did not gain new ones outright. Some of their priests had even managed to begin summoning the holy spirit servants of Chi'an Chi, who would surely aid them in combat, scouring the oppressors with the flames of the one true God! The Celestial Dragon was a lie, for how could a divinity die, or worse be reduced into slumber beneath Wu Tien Shan? The holy Mountain of the North would be claimed, and the evil beasts within killed in their beds as was only right for the thousands of years of oppressing their right to worship who they desired!

    At least, that was how it had been at the start of the year, the Blue Scarves full of righteous fury, boundless faith, and zealous strength.

    Then the priests had begun to disappear. Sometimes they reappeared later, as corpses with throats torn out, but many were simply never found. Champions of Chi'an Chi, bodies thick with holy transformation, were found torn apart or burnt into meat sludge. The Ravenspeakers, those holy leaders who had brought the faith in the first place, were plucked and tarred to death. The loud firebrands were silenced, not because their tongues were cut out, but because all of their organs were. Some Blue Scarf leaders were even found crucified upon the trees, their own torn out shin bones being used to pin their hands to the trunks. Assassins, it was whispered. Had the Nipponese finally betrayed them, sending forth their infamous and terrifying invisible warriors? Or was it one of the Emperor's most quiet and unseen agents, one of the Shadows of Heaven?

    For a time, the Blue Scarves remained indignant and spitefully high in morale. They refused to be cowed, refused to be terrified, refused to be silent! For too long, had their kind been forced to do so, to worship Chi'an Chi in basements and wilderness lodges, and in even worse conditions. They had many, many leaders, and many, many champions. They could increase their security measures, set out patrols, light up the night with bonfire and torch and candle.

    It wasn't enough.

    More dead piled up, with every week. Then, the dead began to appear in two locations at once. From city to city, garrison to garrison, temple to temple, Blue Scarves died. Wells were obstructed, granaries set aflame, supply depots emptied in the night. Fishing wharves became massive burning edifices at night and burnt ruin in the day. Those docks that were stone instead had the ships sunk to the bottom of the harbor, and from investigations it was found as if something had outright punched and clawed through the bottoms of the ships.

    The hearts of the rebels were enflamed with the peerless flames of hope, of Chi'an Chi!

    But even those flames began to die, as the months stretched on.

    The spring was found to not be bountiful at all, and no food was claimed. Hunger became an ever-growing toll upon flagging spirits, the land squeezed for all the resources it could possibly provide, only for those resources to be taken from the Blue Scarves before they could reach any mouths. The hunting grounds were emptied, but the meat and pelts never made it back. The scorching summer of that year grew worse when the wells were covered in rubble and the barrels and cisterns were destroyed. In fall and winter, it grew even worse. The forests were hacked apart to provide warmth, but even those stockpiles found themselves ignited prematurely. Medical supplies were stolen, burnt, buried, or otherwise, but in totality went missing. By that point, more than a third of the rebellion had died to starvation, dehydration, exposure, and at least two plagues had spread amongst their number in separate portions of the province.

    "We must take heart, my warriors!" Ravenspeaker Tong cried aloud, holding his holy book high in one hand, the twitching slit eye on the front moving about sluggishly as the sacrifices had begun to grow less regular. "Chi'an Chi will see us through this! We must have faith! We are the holy wind that shall sweep aside oppression, that shall bring about change once and for all to this stagnant empire!"

    His congregation was quiet, now, compared to the cheering and stomping of the past. Many had grown so thin their stomachs had bloated, others were hollow-eyed and stock still after months of burying plagued, starved, and dehydrated dead in cold soil. They had still filed into the temple, but that seemed as much because of the blue and purple-pink flames which burned at all hours of the day and night. Outside, snow blanketed the ground enough to be shin high. A number of corpses had been left to turn blue and stiff beneath them, the rebels simply too exhausted to bury them in the actual ground anymore. If there was time, they would try again once the snows had passed.

    "It is to us who this glorious duty has fallen, it is to us who must rise up and inspire the rest of this wretched Empire. We will shall free them from oppression, from stagnation, from the yoke of the dragons!"

    It was at about that point that a figure dropped down from the banisters above. None of the guards were able to react in time, for even they were sluggish from exhaustion and hunger. As such, all the Blue Scarves present were only able to watch as the figure simply…parted Ravenspeaker Tong down the middle with the edge of one hand. The preacher collapsed into two wet halves of meat, fluids squirting and splashing as they landed with wet lumps. As he did so, the flames of the temple finally guttered out completely, casting all within into total darkness.

    That was when the screams began.

    A minute later, the doors of the temple were opened again, and a monk with fiery red hair and green and grey robes walked out covered head to toe in blood.

    Five days later, the armies of the Dragon Throne advanced into the rebellious province, slaughtering the rebels with incredible ease.

    Five weeks later, the Blue Scarf Rebellion was effectively over, the last of them corralled within the capital city of Tangzhou. As the armies of the Emperor approached, the gates were thrown wide open, and the last of the Blue Scarves fell upon their boney knees and wept for mercy in the snows. Their leaders were dead, from preacher to commander to champion to the lowliest lieutenants. Only the commoners were left, those who had either been genuinely worshipping at the start or those who had been converted in the interim. They begged, they pleaded, and they received no mercy.

    The province of Zhigeng had been reclaimed, and a whole new warfront was reopened. Of course, with the end of the Blue Scarves, the Nipponese no longer had any reason to avoid invasion. The rebels had served a useful purpose in blunting and drawing strength away from other battlefields to keep them contained. Now, the servants of the Heavenly Sovereign had to advance. They could not afford to let the Cathayans fortify the province now that they had retaken it.

    ==========================================================​

    [Late 2328 IC] Zhigeng Province, Fields Outside of Tangzhou

    "HAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

    Ten thousand samurai charged, swords raised high, as they slammed into the prepared spears and shields of the Cathayan soldiers. All around them, the battlefield swirled and crashed. Two blocks separated into smaller segments maneuvered this way and that, cavalry on both sides attempting to flank around the sides only to clash with one another and get tangled up. The fields were too open, and the forces of both sides too competent to miss attempts at maneuvering too much. Commanders on both sides rotated their front lines, again and again, but the fact of the matter was that the fight would be a complete and bloody grind. The Cathayans could not retreat, as Tangzhou and in fact much of the province was in no condition to withstand a siege. The Nipponese could not stop, as every day that passed saw the province grow in strength, its fortifications built just that bit more.

    Thus, they fought, knowing that a victory here could greatly affect the greater ongoing war, for the fate and control of not just one of the twenty provinces hung in the balance, but one of the original thirteen.

    It was a bloody crush indeed. The armor of both sides held up well enough, exhausting and cutting against another for long minutes and then longer still. Some began to flag, and were cut down, but others simply collapsed backwards to greedily gulp down water and then try to rest for a bare handful of seconds before returning to the fight. This was not the clash and overrunning crash of greenskins or ogres, overwhelming the ranks of humanity entirely and leaving no survivors. Nor were their skaven erupting from below, cutting and killing, utilizing insane technologies, horrific abominations, or their own terrible sorceries. Indeed, both sides had not been blessed with the arrival of sorcerers of any sort. It was the battle, almost entirely, of mortals.

    Almost.

    A palm to the chest shattered the ribs beneath, while another hand reached out and crushed the throat and neck of another soldier. Johanna hissed as another spear punched through her thigh, slapping the wood apart to destroy most of the shaft. Her guandao swung about her neck and shoulders, cutting and stabbing as she went, briefly sparing the time to tear the metal out of her thigh and chomping her mouth around the throat of another samurai. The blood flowed, wonderful and sweet and empowering and glorious…and then she was moving again, letting the wounds she had taken heal with the blood she guzzled down. There was no time to savor, and for her that was surely better in the long run, even if it left some part of her with pangs of distress and unhappiness that she could not truly experience each drop. Nearby, Genevieve slashed and stabbed with her jian, hood up and face coverings tugged into place. Though her master did not necessarily burn in the sun, too much of its exposure to her skin could weaken and slow her. Given the scorching summer sun and cloudless sky above them, that quite simply could not be allowed at the moment.

    "There!" Genevieve pointed with her jian, red tassel slick with blood enough that it clung to her robes.

    Johanna turned and saw the Nipponese general at just about the same time as he saw them. At this distance, with the clamor of battle all around, she could not hear him, but she definitely understood his intention as he waved his katana in their direction and began pushing and shoving his way forward, followed behind by his second. Their back banners were especially elaborate, proclaiming clan and deed both. Ashina, for the General, and Ukita, for his second. Their deeds were an impressive litany of battles, speaking of destroyed or vassalized clans, as well as victories won throughout the war now taking place between the two nations. But Johanna had eyes for the blades they wielded.

    "Damn it, ghost blades," Johanna spat, swinging her guandao wildly about her to clear the immediate area.

    "Unfortunate," Genevieve said calmly, jian swinging out in a flicker to behead another samurai as they came close.

    When the Nipponese spoke as to the strength of their ancestors, they meant it literally. It was not necromancy, not fully, but in fact held closer similarities to the spirit-based magic of ancient Nehekhara. The power of the spirits summoned forth were quite literally channeled into the forging process, and willingly as well. Ghost blades stole the life of those who they struck, funneling the life force right back into their wielders, and proved adept at cleaving through magical defenses as well as mundane ones. The thousand-folding process involved not just metal ores, but magic as well, folding the power of generations of spirits into the metal and forge.

    They were also, as Johanna and Genevieve had unhappily discovered, horrifically painful to the undead.

    Such as vampires.

    "Monks!" The Ashina General yelled above the din as he came closer, muscled and armored heavily, yet somewhat amusingly a bit shorter than either Johanna or Genevieve. "Know that you face Ashina Yamashiro and Ukita Ishida! Know that you will die this day before the Divine Winds of Nippon!!"

    The call and response was, to Johanna's bemusement, almost immediate.

    "The Jade Dragon does not bow to the wind's howls, for it is the dragon that rules the wind!" Both vampires replied.

    That caused Ashina Yamashiro to pause for a moment, his fierce red mask and its whiskers leering as the man behind it sputtered for a moment.

    "Jade Dragon…hah! Very well! I shall return your robes and amulets to your monastery before it burns!" He declared and rushed forward.

    =============================================================​

    [2329 IC] Monastery of the Jade Dragon

    Upon the Jade Pillars, the elders of the monastery remained seated. Each of the pillars was not, in fact, formed of jade, but rather of cool grey stone which had become enveloped utterly by vines and plant life. It was the large mural on the ground that was made of jade, instead, and had been personally carved by Master Po long ago when he had first founded his school here. It was one of the deepest points in the monastery, which was unto a small city unto itself. There were deeper chambers, of course, many more, as one pursued the mysteries of the Jade Dragon, but this was the halfway point. It was, in fact, a point that most never even passed. The vast majority of Jade Dragon monks would remain within the outer half of the monastery their entire lives.

    On this day, two vampires knelt on both knees with heads bowed before the pillars and the masters atop them.

    "Johanna Fuerbach," one of the elders spoke, her eyes clear with veins of glowing green which were visible even beneath her robes. "You have fought, you have learned, and you have passed many tests to be here this day."

    "Though you are not of Cathay in flesh, it is our opinion that at least some of Cathay exists in your spirit," another elder said, this one's hair having turned a muted green and become entangled with small leafy vines.

    "You are an abomination," a third said, eyes hard and green nails tapping quietly upon his thigh. "Something not alive yet walking and speaking. Like the Jade-Blooded, but…not."

    "Master Genevieve is…an oddity," a fourth stated, head propped up by their hand, their tone nonchalant. "Trained by Master Po personally, before the founding of the school itself. He proved that the creatures you are…could be transformed with discipline and training."

    "She has a touch of divinity about her," a fifth piped up, a tone of warning in her voice. "Not of ours, but strong nonetheless."

    The fourth elder just waved their hand at the fifth.

    "And you have proven your own strength, and more importantly your worth to the Dragon Throne," the second said, glaring at the others. "You have been chosen to act as his Fangs, you carry the insignia, and your deeds are known. However…,"

    All five spoke in unison, voices eerie.

    "You, Master Fuerbach, cannot step further along the Path of the Jade Dragon."

    Silence reigned afterwards.

    "I…," Johanna didn't quite know what to say to that. "I don't understand."

    Before stepping foot back within the Monastery, she was supplicant. Apprentice. Student. And yet in a single moment, a single word, she was promoted – only to then be immediately told off?

    "Your skill is masterful, your knowledge appreciable, and yet…just as Master Po discovered," one of the elders said, voice intensely neutral, "Your…kind…cannot learn the higher mysteries of the Jade Dragon."

    "What they say is true, Johanna," Genevieve said quietly, a hand coming to rest on Johanna's shoulder. "There is no further that we can reach within the monastery's teachings. The Green Qi, or Ghyran as we know it, remains out of the reach of vampires. Even Hysh, we can grasp, though it is most often painful to do so, we simply…cannot grasp Ghyran at all."

    Not that Genevieve hadn't heard of those who tried. Many, though, simply skipped past the isolating of single Winds and reached for multiple at once, or Dhar in general.

    "But…I just…," Johanna trailed off as she stared at her hands. "What are we supposed to do now, then?"

    "You will carry the fierceness of the Jade Dragon in you always, Master Fuerbach," the first elder spoke up. "You shall have a place within this monastery, and you are free to take students and contemplate the universe, and your name shall remain in our annals…but that is all. Your…unique circumstances…allowed you to train and learn without pause or rest far beyond the limits of mortal men, to advance faster than any before you…but they can carry you no farther."

    Johanna remained quiet.

    "Come on, Johanna," Genevieve said quietly, drawing her get to her feet before the Bretonnian looked up at the masters once more. "We thank you, elders, for your teachings and your aid. Master Po would be proud."

    For all that the elders of the monastery were each powerful and learned folk, their pride flared ever so slightly at the mention of one who had been taught firsthand by the legend.

    "Master Genevieve, Master Johanna," the fourth elder finally said as the two turned to leave.

    Johanna seemed lost, still staring ahead with her face screwed up in thought, but Genevieve did turn back around.

    "Seek out the Order of the Chained Ghost," the elder stated, gaining stares and glares from the rest of the Elders. "From them…I suspect you shall be able to grow further."

    Genevieve frowned.

    "I have not heard of this Order. Johanna," she faintly jostled the younger vampire, "Have you?"

    "I suspect not," the elder continued, uncaring of the looks of his peers. "They are secretive and few. Yet with your own…access," he gestured vaguely towards the north – towards Wei-Jin – and shrugged, "I suspect you might come to learn of them, or they you. Or they shall destroy you as is their wont – they have never forgiven Master Po for his training of you, Master Genevieve, long ago in the past."

    "I…see," Genevieve said, pursing her lips. "Perhaps, if we are given the time to do so in pursuit of our duties."

    "Of course," the elder nodded.

    =======================================================================​

    [2329 IC] Zuizhou Province, Eastern Bamboo Forest

    The first notice that something was wrong was the fact that a spear pure Shyish came out of the shadows and nearly stabbed through Johanna's chest. In an instant, the bamboo forest that the two vampires had been traveling through came alive with violence. On this night, the green moon was unseen, kept hidden by the clouds, leaving only the shining pure moonlight shining down upon them all. Blades and hooks and chains flashed in and out of existence, fists and legs and bodies flying this way and that. The sturdier bamboo became springboards, while others were snapped and broken from the flurry of wild combat. There was a reason that the Amethyst Wizards of the Empire had been chosen for the duties of suppressing and hunting down the undead, for the wind of Shyish was uniquely suited for it, for all that vampires in turn were often gifted some measure of command over it due to their own natures.

    It was ten against two. More importantly, however, the abilities utilized by their foes seemed well-tailored for their intended purposes. For all their skill, for all their ability, after several minutes of pitched fierce combat, and to the total surprise of Johanna and grim acceptance of Genevieve, they were forced back. Then, they were forced together, back to back, and then, they were forced to their knees. Enchanted shackles were brought out from somewhere, and clasped about their wrists and ankles, the sensation of them bringing forth enough pain that it forced a scream from the Talabeclander and a pained grunt from Genevieve. Hoods, filled with chemical poultices that stank and burned at the eyes and ears were thrown over their heads.

    They were just beginning to be dragged away, hands swiftly and clinically scouring their robes for hidden pouches and pockets, only to pause very abruptly upon withdrawing the Imperial Seals to the open air. Followed shortly by the sizzling of flesh and muted yelp of those not meant to touch them. In an instant, they were dropped to the ground, and a fierce conversation could be heard if not understood due to the pain of the various herbal pastes smeared about the hood. Finally, the hoods were tugged off of them again and they were lashed to trees with more of the enchanted chains and manacles, facing over a dozen glaring Cathayans with hoods and face covering scarves and stitched cloths. All of them burned with Purple Wind in tattoos, in their weapons, though some of them did indeed carry quite considerable amounts of the Winds about their persons.

    "Foul creatures, you have gone too far," one said, driving forth a sai and holding it directly to Johanna's eye, another doing the same to Genevieve. "You have committed the ultimate sacrilege, stealing Imperial Seals from the Fangs of the Celestial Dragon Emperor? Your deaths shall not be swift, unless you tell us here and now who you stole them from!"

    Johanna was rather busy coughing and blinking her watering eyes, her entire face and head blotchy and red from being touched. There had been at least a good amount of silver and certain roots in those pastes inside of the hoods, nothing else could cause her skin to swell, redden, and split like this even with minute exposure. Genevieve, on the other hand, huffed and narrowed her eyes at the speaker.

    "If you had a single bit of sense in your head-," she began, only to pause as the sai stabbed into her eyeball and tore it out.

    The wielder drew their sai back out vindictively, stomping upon the eyeball beneath their foot with a small squelch.

    "Watch your words, abomination, you-,"

    "The tokens are ours, you idiots," Genevieve continued without pause, "Notice how we bore them freely, but I can see your flesh is seared as befitting the unworthy attempting to handle them."

    It had burned right through the handwraps, showing blackened and reddened skin beneath.

    "Impossible," one of them spoke up, shaking their head. "You have stolen the Seals, and somehow broken their enchantments."

    "Have you so little faith in the high sorceries of the Dragon Emperors?" Genevieve said, raising the eyebrow of her currently empty socket. "We are the Masters Genevieve and Johanna, of the Jade Dragon Monastery, Fangs of the Emperor."

    Several of their attackers seemed to go still at that, while others began exchanging looks with one another.

    "Calm yourselves, brothers," the one with the burned hands growled, "There are more than just Jade-Blooded within our borders. Clever, thinking to take the name of the Jade Dragon, but it is pointless."

    "Fuck…you…," Johanna finally wheezed out, hacking up some of her lungs as the silver powder burned it away inside of her chest. "We came here because the Jade Pillars told us to seek out the Order of the Chained Ghost, then we went to the Emperor and asked about it and he sent us here."

    Now all of their attackers, save the one, were looking uncertain.

    "Vampires can take many disguises, and are masters of guile-,"

    "THEN TAKE US UP NORTH, SHITBAG!" Johanna shrieked and then forced her way out of the chains meant to bind her.

    Her entire body twisted and split open from the inside, her body growing beyond the human limits of musculature as she gave up the mask fully. A multitude of weapons were unsheathed once more, but it was enough for Genevieve to slip out of her chains, slam a hand into the throat of the one who'd taken her eye out, and twist their head around until the vertebrae creaked but no further. Johanna had no such captive, but unrestrained as she was now she could make full use of her utterly inhuman strength.

    "Take us north," Genevieve agreed. "Let us all journey to the Jade Palace, to the throne of the Celestial Dragon Emperor, and you can explain to him in person why you assaulted his chosen Fangs. Tell him that he has been tricked, enchanted, by two mere vampires not even of the Jade-Blooded. That the holy Imperial Seals he gives out have been compromised, that the internal tracking and identification spells have failed."

    "…this is a trick," the leader said, eyes narrowed. "We should kill you now and scatter your ashes."

    "Oh, fucking do it, you asshole," Johanna growled as she tore the rest of the enchanted chains off of her. "Then you can take the Seals there, strut up there like the pea-cock-for-brains you are, and then get torn apart as you proudly declare you killed two of his Fangs."

    ==================================================================​

    There were not even flecks of blood left behind as the Emperor slowly folded his hands back within his sleeves. Today, his robes were pure silver and copper, again metals given cloth-texture and form. His expression was serene, where a second ago it had been anything but. The monks of the Chained Ghost were not merely kneeling, but outright prostrate. Those of them that still lived, at least. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned down while keeping his eyes and face looking upon them without blinking and picked up the two Imperial Seals once more. His hands blurred slightly, and Johanna and Genevieve both grunted slightly as the seals were thrown rather sharply at their stomachs, only just catching them in time before they impacted.

    "These…are wretches…yes," Emperor Taizong. "Abominations. Vampires. However," he strained the word so much that it barely managed to get out through his teeth. "They bear my Imperial Seals, tagged by my hand. It does not matter that they are vampires, if they were sows on a farm and bore a tagged Imperial Seal, you would not dare cut them apart for meal even if you were starving to death."

    He did not raise his voice once, yet each emphasized word was almost incomprehensible due to the rage behind it. It was a matter of propriety. It was a matter of face. Such utter refusal to accept the Emperor's words, his decrees, his actions, was a dire insult that could really only ever be answered one way.

    "My Fangs…," the Emperor's voice was sickly sweet. "I have a new mission for you. The Monkey King is growing…belligerent again. He still yet dreams of claiming the throne. You are to suppress his agents by any means necessary. A steward shall have the details for you."

    It was a pointed dismissal, and both vampires turned about and headed for the doors once more without looking back once.

    Not even when they heard the sliding of scales and the scraping of sword-length claws upon stone.

    That day, the Final Gates closed, the giants working the levers in near total silence at a signal only they could hear.

    ==========================================================​

    [2329-2330 IC] City of Nan-Gau, Tangzu Province

    "So, let's try this again," Genevieve said, arms folded over her chest. "I am Master Genevieve Sandrine du Pointe du Lac Dieudonné of the Jade Dragon Monastery."

    "I am Master Johanna Fuerbach, also of the Jade Dragon Monastery," Johanna declared, deliberately holding her guandao at the ready with one arm folded behind her back.

    "We Fangs of the Emperor have come to learn," they said in unison.

    Behind them, at least three districts of Nan-Gau were on fire. The seditionists of the Monkey King had been rooted out, those manipulated with coin, blade, or word all scoured by the decree of the Emperor. It had taken them almost a year, but it had been done. Especially once they had been able to coordinate with a number of other Fangs, men and women from all walks of life chosen due to their experience and variety of skills. Facing them, on the other hand, was a trio of Chained Ghost monks, heads shaved and scalps marked with symbols of penitence. The three bowed their heads, not even having to grit their teeth or strain their voices.

    "The Chained Ghost…shall teach you. Together, may we hunt, and hunt successfully."

    And so they went, disappearing into the wilds to hidden places.

    There would be pain, yes. On both sides.

    But they would learn.

    =====================================================​

    [2331-2332 IC] Central Cathayan Wilderness

    The Order of the Chained Ghost wielded Shyish not as a wind, but as a blade. The Purple Qi was an energy to be harnessed within the body, then externalized. By doing so, their strikes carried with them the power to pull the lifeforce of their living foes away, and to crumble and unravel the undead. Unlike the formal monastery lifestyle of the monasteries, the Chained Ghost had no such permanent holdings save for a few libraries and record keeping facilities. Their lives were endless movement, an endless hunt, combatting the agents of the Jade-Blooded as they endlessly sought to expand their influence as well as those of the distant Pale Court. Lesser necromancers and wraiths, spirits and ghosts, these too were things they fought. In an Empire such as Cathay, there were many graves, and many dead. The First Unification War alone, when the First Celestial Dragon Emperor finally unified Greater Cathay, left large mass graves speckled throughout the land, long grown over by nature and civilization both.

    But with the arrival of Nippon upon Cathay's shores, their wielding of Ghost Blades and their ranks of Wraith Armors, the Chained Ghost had to, for the first time, begin stepping out further into light than usual. Thus, the Fangs of the Emperor had come to them, to be taught, and to utilize their own knowledge. Not just against the soldiers of Nippon, but the Jade-Blooded and others still. It was not to say that these…newcomers…did not suffer in their learning, of course. For all that they were Fangs of the Emperor, of whom Tengu, ogres, and even a number of Monkey-Folk could be counted amongst, they were vampires – the very things the Order of the Chained Ghost was traditionally meant to work towards the eradication of. Their inhuman nature, however, meant that just as when learning at the Jade Dragon Monastery, they could learn at monstrously accelerated rates. They did not sleep, they healed when consuming the blood of Nipponese soldiers, bandits, or criminals, whichever were nearest at the time, and they could withstand blows to the body that could disable normal human students. And, by their very abominable nature, could grasp at the Purple Qi with great speed and strength once properly trained.

    In seclusion, in the war, in the hunt, they learned.

    It was in those days that Johanna and Genevieve first witnessed the depraved compounds of the Jade-Blooded, felt the horrific control that they could maintain over their subjects. The level of mental compulsion capabilities upon not just the dead but the living as well were dire threats. It was practically a contagious form of madness, so long as one remained within the influence of the Jade-Blooded in question. Some could not move, their bodies so decrepit and decayed, turned into living statue oracles to whom sacrifices needed to be brought, unable to do more than suckle at throats slit by the hands of their servants. Others were far more mobile, flitting and maneuvering about amongst the populace of their stolen villages, their hand-crafted settlements, often only caught after far too many had to be put down in order to reach them, too many who were not yet undead. It was how the Jade-Blooded expanded their territory, their powers of not just mental manipulation but outright mental domination were fearsome in the extreme, which made it all the more satisfying when one was finally able to confront their comparatively frail physical bodies – save for the utterly toxic liquid that filled their innards which had gained them their name.

    There was a reason the Chained Ghost were so grim and so suspicious about those who might be under the compulsions of the Jade-Blooded.

    ==============================================================​

    [2333 IC] Jade Palace, Throne of the Celestial Dragon, Wei-Jin

    "This…is grave news indeed," the Tiger General murmured.

    Ma Zhao was one of the greatest of the Tiger Generals in the history of Cathay, and one of the oldest too. The sides of his drooping white mustache fell down all the way to his chest, his hairline well and truly receded without yet fully making him bald, but for all that his barrel chest and thick sinews had yet to begin sagging. He bore heavy enameled and plated armor, a blade sheathed on each hip. All of which, in turn, was even more impressive given his extremely advanced age, at least to those unaware of how truly meritorious service in the Celestial Empire could be rewarded. The Dragon Heart elixirs he had been granted as a result of his many years of success and service clearly did him well. He was as strong as a man in his prime, and his mind was yet still sharp enough to split steel. Now, he stood with his arms leaning against the heavy wooden table and its many small markers and tokens designated armed forces of numerous banners.

    Five distinct Hung tribal markers were currently harrying different sections of the Great Bastion. Two ogre tribes were raiding the west. The symbol of the Monkey King was sat in the middle of their mountain range. Garrisons representing the borders for both Ind and Cathay were marked. The Hobgoblin Khanates had sent another full quartet of WAAAGH!s, though they'd thankfully backstabbed each other as much as they were trying to attack the nation's borders. The vast majority of markers, however, were all Cathayan and Nippon forces as they tried to maneuver against one another.

    It was not a pleasing picture.

    Of the twenty provinces of Cathay, all but one of the coastal provinces was wholly under Nipponese control, forcing the Cathayans deeper and deeper inland. Only Zhigeng stood, barely, and even then it was difficult to keep control of due to the resources of the area being so devastated. Purposefully, to deny them to the Blue Scarves and then the Nipponese, but still. Now more Nippon samurai were landing, and there were rumors of ninja beginning to infiltrate deeper within the Celestial Empire. There were also rumors of the Shadows of Heaven combatting them, but it would be a poor example of either of the two if their conflicts became too visible to the rest of the world. There had to have been more to it than that, though. Cathay was splitting itself in so many directions, almost a third of the country had been scooped out from beneath it in only a few short years, all the while they remained pressured by their traditional enemies.

    The delicate and bloody balancing act had been utterly upended by the unexpected invasion from Nippon.

    Except, perhaps it had not been so unexpected after all.

    Johanna and Genevieve stood at attention, as did the rest of the Chained Ghost monks around them, as the First Tiger of the Empire scrutinized the documents that they had brought him. Some were marked in glittering inks, others were small, curt, purposefully small and cramped to use as little parchment as possible. Neither of them was at the forefront of the group, however. With the hoods and face scarves of the Chained Ghost uniform, they were almost completely imperceptible amongst the rest of the monks. The paleness of their skin was no longer unique amongst those that often utilized the Purple Qi.

    "And you found this amongst…," he said, trailing off as he looked up at the monks again.

    "The records of several Jade-Blooded in the southeastern provinces, General," Master Tang said, the elder Chained Ghost monk bowing deeply at the waist as he spoke.

    "They are meticulous, aren't they," General Zhao muttered, stroking at his short goatee with one hand while the other held up a letter to the light. "And the others?"

    At that, Master Tang paused, his puckered face puckering further as he turned slightly and gestured behind him. Thus bidden, the two interlopers to his Chain stepped forwards, taking their hoods and scarves off.

    "Ah," General Zhao raised his eyebrows. "The two newest Fangs. The foreigners. 'Gene-vieve'," he said, haltingly but carefully pronouncing her name.

    "They also know me as Apprentice Pale Sword," Genevieve said politely, "If that may ease your tongue, General. And her as Little Red Tiger," she gestured at Johanna.

    Cāng Bái Jiàn and Xiǎo Hóng Hǔ would certainly be a curious mouthful for an Imperial to pronounce, but then again their translations did rather lose something in the transition from Cathayan to Reikspiel.

    "I need no introduction to her, Gene-vieve," General Zhao said coolly as he looked upon Johanna. Placing the papers down and folding his arms across his armored chest. "I remember you, Johanna Fuerbach," he said with perfect pronunciation.

    This time, Johanna did not bow her head or duck her eyes away.

    "And I you, General Zhao," she said back, looking back at him defiantly.

    "…Gan Ping was a good man. He deserved a better death than the jackals of the court dragged him into," Zhao finally said, his voice quiet. "I am sorry you missed the purges after the death of Gan Yu as well."

    Johanna's next words disappeared as she choked on them slightly, naked surprise on her face.

    "I have been the First Tiger for over sixty years," Zhao snorted, shaking his head as he did so. "Gan Yu was new to his position, seeking desperately to follow in the legacy of his legendary namesake, only to find no more legendary battles to fight."

    At the time, it went unsaid. If only he had waited a few decades more, the Fifth Tiger might have found true renown in the troubled times they found themselves in.

    "He let himself be overwhelmed by the politics of it all. And for that, he died, his son died, and a rising star within the Celestial Empire fled west in tears," Zhao tutted and shook his head even more vigorously before stopping and looking at the suddenly intensely stricken young-seeming woman. "No matter what others might think, I am pleased to see you again, even if…you are so transformed," he said, finally with a note of distaste in his voice as he looked her and Genevieve over. "Still, at the least, you are not the filthy Jade-Blooded," he growled. "To think, even in their deluded minds, that the Nipponese will let them remain," he snorted, honestly offended at the idea.

    "And yet," Genevieve prompted gently, "They do. They have. The intelligence offered by the Jade-Blooded is how the forces of Nippon have practically swarmed through the land, avoiding patrols and bases, finding supply depots and ambushing our forces."

    All it took was a single magistrate of a city kidnapped from his home in the night, dragged before a powerful enough Jade-Blooded Lord, and then the all of a sudden the city garrison was given the order to surrender rather than hold out against the siege as honor should have dictated.

    "I can see that," General Zhao growled. "This?" He clenched a fist around the records of the Jade-Blooded and scrunched his other fist around the papers of acquired Nipponese communications. "It ends. As soon as possible. The First Tiger Army shall aid you. We must burn the Jade-Blooded out, and with them and their information networks gone, we can finally begin pushing the Nipponese back!"

    =======================================================================​

    [2334 And 2335 IC] Southeastern Cathay

    Rarely had the Chained Ghost been so…chained…to a singular duty and task. They operated in groups, rarely assembling in a single mass after past efforts by their enemies to destroy them. Thrice, the Chained Ghost had come close to utter and total annihilation after gathering in large numbers. Now they only did so in the Jade Palace itself, as every single time in the past, no amount of subtlety seemed able to disguise their intentions. The Jade-Blooded had infiltrated too well, too deep, and even the efforts of the Shadows of Heaven were not enough. Grandmasters slain ensuring others could escape, lesser acolytes and new recruits taken with their minds later ground down and destroyed. But now, on the order of the First Tiger General, they had been drawn into a singular focused hunt throughout the southeastern provinces. It would allow the Jade-Blooded in many other provinces free to act, yes, but they were just as willing to begin fighting one another for control and influence as the actual Celestial Empire itself.

    But the relentless advance of the invaders had to be stopped. So long as they had access to the informant networks of the Jade-Blooded within the provinces they had taken control of, they would be near impossible to dislodge. If they made successful contact with the Jade-Blooded of internal provinces, things would only get worse. It had to stop. Thus, the Order of the Chained Ghost was deployed, in full, all at once. The entire Order was meant to help work to suppress the whole undead activity throughout the entire Celestial Empire. Now, they would do all that and more within the coastal provinces. In the meantime, as they infiltrated the hostile borders into enemy-controlled territory, the First Tiger personally led a widespread counterattack across the entirety of the enemy lines. There was absolutely no chance that he could actually take any of the provinces back, not with his forces so widely spread apart, but reclamation was not yet his aim – rather it was distraction, one that would cost tens of thousands of lives as the battles stretched on.

    Yet, as would be declared in the annals of the Jade Palace, it would be worth it.

    For two years, the Order of the Chained Ghost relentlessly hunted down the Jade-Blooded.

    Compounds. Villages. Dominated neighborhoods in certain cities. Secluded cave networks. Two underground cities. Watchtowers. Not just personal cults but dominated citizenry of the East as well from beyond. Secretly dominated Nipponese samurai. Cathayan sailors. Indi mercenaries. The Order of the Chained Ghost went after them all. It was not quick. It was not clean. In their hunt, it was rumored by some officers beneath the First Tiger that the Order of the Chained Ghost had to become as inhuman as the ones they hunted. Some of their most successful hunters were precisely that. The whispers were beginning to grow louder – the red-haired Johanna, who had ignited a firestorm, a political calamity walking, who had been the downfall of the Fifth Tiger, Gan Yu, and his noble son Gan Ping? Had returned to Cathay once more…as a monster. Yet, a monster that served the Dragon Throne. Destroyer of a Storm Altar, an act of incredible bravery and utter deadliness of which few had ever lived through doing. Apprentice and then Master of the Jade Monastery, taught by and following another foreigner entirely. One who was taught, firsthand, by the legendary Master Po, founder of the Jade Dragon Monastery. Now they were Fangs of the Emperor, servants chained to the Dragon Throne's will, yet protected by it as well. They, along with the rest of the Order of the Chained Ghost, slaughtered their way through the Jade-Blooded across seven provinces without pause or rest.

    They were not idle about the presence of the Nippon forces either. It was the Order of the Chained Ghost that also saw to the destruction of ranks of Wraith Armors, silencing and banishing the spirits within before destroying the mobile containers. Who shattered ancestral Ghost Blades. Who hunted down, on occasion, the astromancers of Nippon, tearing the life out of their bodies before they could truly begin summoning lightning and razor wind. Some of the Order disappeared, bodies found dead from poison or shuriken or otherwise. At other times, the Order caught and interrogated the ninjas of Nippon as only they could. The warfare that took place over those two years was brutal beyond belief, staining body and soul with smoke and blood. Acting openly in such numbers, the Order took considerable casualties to the point of more than half their number dying, yet they pressed on nonetheless. In the meantime, other Jade-Blooded Ancients expanded their insidious influence throughout the other two thirds of the nation, friction between them and grudges thousands of years old sparking their own muted conflicts.

    It was, above all else, thorough.

    Afterwards the exhausted and depleted forces of the First Tiger sat, fortified, and watched as the armies of the Second and Third Tiger rushed forwards past them. Bereft of the informant networks of the now exterminated ranks of the Jade-Blooded, the seemingly unstoppable advance of Nippon was finally blunted…and then even began to bend backwards towards the coasts once more.

    Thus, at the cost of more then thirty thousand soldiers of the First Tiger's forces, half of the Order of the Chained Ghost, and a tremendous amount of unfortunately dominated citizenry…success.

    ================================================================​

    [2335 IC] Western Cathay

    "The Monkey King is damned relentless, isn't he," Johanna grunted as she wrenched her guandao free of the corpse in front of her and carelessly flopped backwards onto the grass besides the road.

    Only the call of the Emperor could pull them away from their training amongst the Chained Ghost monks, who had largely secluded themselves after the purges were over. It would take a generation, possibly two, to fully rebuild their numbers. Even in a nation as large and heavily populated as Cathay, those with the skill, inclination, and willpower to actually make it as a Chained Ghost monk were not bountiful. Yet, as Fangs, who had 'accepted' the Imperial Seals, they could not help but follow those same directives. Again, they had been taken to the western reaches of the Celestial Empire, for once again the Monkey King was sending out probes down from the mountains.

    "I really don't get this guy's deal. I have seen some Monkey-Folk before, exiles from the mountains for not following the Monkey-King, but…," she shrugged, "Never got any answers out of them."

    "He's ambitious, he's power hungry, and so he wants the throne," her master replied promptly.

    Genevieve was calmly cleaning her jian, her hood and facial coverings down as she luxuriated in clear skies and a nice full white moon.

    "He's made breakout and coup attempts before, but he's never been successful. He just doesn't have the forces to manage it," she continued, raising her jian and looking down its length. "It's just that with the recent Hung incursions, the Khanate attacking the west, the Naga Queens getting a little extra hungry to the south, and now Nippon?"

    She shook her head and snorted.

    "The Monkey King wants out, and he wants command, and this might well be the best possible time to do it. The longer the war with Nippon stretches on, the more exhausted the Empire will be. I'm sure the Monkey King knows that."

    Johanna blew some of her red hair away from her face and sat up, hunching slightly with her guandao against her shoulder.

    "Wait…is it the same one? After all this time? Monkey-Folk are supposed to have almost human lifespans – regular ones, at least," she quickly corrected.

    Genevieve pursed her lips and waggled a hand in the air.

    "It could be. That's the rumor anyway. I wouldn't really know. Some say he made a deal with Chi'an Chi, others that he made deals with others. Perhaps one of the Exiled Deva of Ind?"

    There were many methods to pursue extended life, vampirism being only one of them, after all.

    "I guess," Johanna shrugged before standing and jabbing her guandao into the chaos spawn again. "I'm leaning towards the Chi'an Chi thing myself. This is the second time that one of his agents has transformed like this."

    "Perhaps," Genevieve began before pausing from saying more, swiveling on the stone she was sitting on with a single motion.

    Coming up the road, walking quite casually indeed, was a vampire. She wore traditional Cathayan clothing, save for the fact that it was pure, snowy white. Purity and innocence…but also associated with death and funerals. She walked with her hands folded in her sleeves, and to most from afar she would merely appear a pale beauty out for a stroll. Except, of course, for the fact that she had let down her mask fully, just as Johanna had. Unlike the Talabeclander, whose 'true' face was a hulking, almost primeval twist of humanity, this one was simply inhumanly beautiful, impossibly alluring. The sclera of both eyes were pure black, while the irises were blood red. She quirked ruby-red lips at them as both stood upright to face her.

    "Oh, my, oh my, such violence," the newly arrived vampire tittered behind her sleeves. "Thank goodness we have such brave and…brutal…protectors guarding our people from the depravities of Wukong's designs."

    Genevieve rolled her eyes.

    "You do realize that we are of the Order of the Chained Ghost, yes?" The Bretonnian gestured at their robes.

    "So quick to threaten," the vampire tutted. "I am Cixi Yuanyuan, a mere humble servant of the Pale Queen of Silver Tears. Please, let us not ruin this beautiful night with unnecessary executions," she said with a giggle.

    About then, Johanna and Genevieve sensed the movement in the trees along the road.

    "What do you want," Genevieve growled through gritted teeth.

    "Merely to pass on information!" Cixi said, sleeves going to the sides of her face without revealing her hands. "Such suspicion! Is that any way to treat…a sister?"

    Genevieve made a noise of disgust.

    "You are no sister of mine. I do not, nor have I ever, served Her," she spat. "The only one who ever commanded me was my sire, and he got himself killed long ago like the idiot he was. Do not attempt to play with us, girl-,"

    Finally, the overly cutesy expression on Cixi's face changed, a deep frown appearing before smoothing away quickly.

    "Liar," she sang, "You serve the Dragon Throne now, you are bound with the Imperial Seals, yes? Taizong commands you. Controls you," she pointed from within her oversized sleeves. "For one who protests against Our Queen so much, you are quick to bind yourself to royalty regardless."

    "Hey!" Johanna barked, thumping her guandao on the ground. "If you are here just to piss us off, then good job, you've done it. Say your piece and get out of here."

    Cixi's expression changed, becoming almost entranced and awed as she looked up at Johanna.

    "Ohhh…you we know. The Little Red Tiger!"

    Johanna's glare could have incinerated the smaller vampire.

    "So young…but so…insidious," Cixi continued, sleeves over her mouth and muffling her slightly. "Twice now, you have entered the Jade Palace, where poor Cixi has not in a thousand years!"

    Very rapidly, they reassessed the Cathayan Lahmian. Even if she was of a bloodline known to not normally take to combat with as much fervor and strength as a Blood Knight, Genevieve and Johanna were obviously examples of Lahmians that could take to martial pursuits well enough. Age, especially amongst vampires, almost always was correlative to their strength and power. It was just annoying that Lahmians were able to conceal such things better than almost any other bloodline. At the full height of his power, for instance, there was no one who did not know just what Vlad von Carstein was simply by looking upon him.

    "I'm not surprised," Johanna grunted, leaning on her guandao. "The Celestial Dragon Throne has never much cared for most all vampires."

    "And yet…here you are…," Cixi gestured towards them. "One, who was taught in defiance to the Chained Ghost, the other, twice-arrived to the Palace! So incredible!"

    Neither reacted as the slim ancient clapped her hands together like a child might.

    "What do you want," Genevieve enunciated again. "What information could you possibly give us that should stop us from trying to put you in the ground?"

    Cixi paused at that and turned her head slowly towards Genevieve, her wide eyes narrowing to slits.

    "You are very, very unkind, you know? Wastrel, defiant, refusing and spitting upon the generous hand of our Queen every time she reaches out to you with nothing but love," she said quietly, words growing sibilant and almost hissed. "You are…almost infamous amongst our kind for that."

    Genevieve's hand only tightened on the hilt of her jian.

    "But you, young one," Cixi turned to look at Johanna, eyes and smile wide again. "You are young. There is more out there for you than…," she waggled a sleeve at the torn and blood-covered robes they wore. "This."

    Johanna scoffed.

    "Oh, sure, and all I'd have to do is swear allegiance to Neferata," she shook her head. "I'm good, thanks."

    Cixi tutted again.

    "Don't be so hasty, young one. There is much that we can offer you."

    "Is that what this is? A recruitment drive?" Genevieve said, her tone arch.

    "There are many secrets that we know, that your sire has refused," Cixi continued, eyes not leaving Johanna's. "But for now, a peace offering," she bowed her head and then looked up again at Johanna with a sad expression. "Your mortal father is dying, young one."

    Johanna had almost made it a third of the distance before Genevieve caught her, arms around the frothing red-haired vampire's waist.

    "You fucking – I'll – get off of me – what did you – rrraggh!" Johanna kicked and spat and hissed.

    "Calm yourself, young one," Cixi tittered, "So rambunctious."

    "Johanna!" Genevieve snarled, her fangs nearly on Johanna's ear, "Stop!"

    From the trees, twenty individuals of indeterminable origin and strength had appeared. Silver-tipped crossbow bolts glinted in the moonlight, magic woven into them to make them fly faster and truer than more mundane counterparts.

    "Listen to your sire, youngling, for all the wastrel she is," Cixi nodded. "We have done nothing. We merely wish to express upon you that your father, aged as he is, has taken ill – and taken pains to conceal it."

    Slowly, Johanna stopped thrashing, but now she only breathed heavily as she glared unblinking at the Cathayan vampire.

    "Why…," she ground out, almost outright gnashing her teeth.

    "Merely as a peace offering," Cixi tilted her head and gave another girlish giggle. "If you wished…we could…take a message for you? Send it to the west? We could do so easily. Your sire keeps you blind to the west, youngling, you know that."

    Johanna's breath hitched, her eyes darting up to an impassive Genevieve who kept her eyes on Cixi.

    "That's…,"

    "Or…perhaps…," Cixi looked about conspiratorially, faux-whispering her next words, "We could…aid him?"

    "I…what?" Johanna blinked.

    "He is so very…old, yes? And only mortal. You would not want to be able to say goodbye, before the end, right?" Cixi looked at her soulfully, which was quite a feat given what she was. "So tragic. But…we could save him. Age is nothing to our kind…yes?" She finished while gesturing both at her own flawless features and then at Johanna and Genevieve's.

    A muted shudder made its way through Johanna's body as she looked at Cixi.

    "…he disowned me for taking Genevieve's offer," she said, the words soft and pained. "Called me a monster, tried to cut me down…and you think he would accept the Blood Kiss?"

    Cixi shrugged.

    "They say time heals many wounds…you would have all of it in the world for him to forgive you…,"

    The Talabeclander's mouth opened and closed without a sound.

    "We're done here," Genevieve said harshly, tugging at Johanna's wrist.

    "Your get has not yet given her answer," Cixi's snapped, her words clipped and sharp. "For all you profess your hatred of chains, you are so quick to apply them!"

    Shocked, Genevieve's grip loosened and fell away. Johanna, in turn, had not actually moved. Though she was mostly still, all those watching could see her wrestling with her thoughts. It stretched on uncomfortably long, and yet as vampires they could afford to simply wait as the world kept moving. High above, in the trees, the crossbow wielders did not even twitch. Their chests barely even seemed to move at all. Johanna's fists clenched so hard that the wood and metal core of her guandao creaked and crunched slightly.

    "…no."

    Cixi blinked.

    "No?" She parroted back.

    "I said no," Johanna said, gritting her teeth with what was just shy of bone-shattering strength, a small trickle of blood tears coming out of one eye. "If you…if you go near him, if you touch him, or my brothers, I will come for you," she ground out.

    Cixi tutted.

    "You have learned such violence from your sire-,"

    "Oh this isn't from her," Johanna interrupted with a low, bestial growl, her eyes flashing. "This is how I was, and how I am. I see those crossbows, I can taste the silver in the air on them. I am young, for a vampire, yes…," Johanna nodded jerkily before spinning her guandao about to point directly at Cixi, the strength in one arm sufficient enough to hold it in perfect stillness. "But before the silver can kill me…I will reach you."

    Cixi paused, head tilting at the absolute promise in those words.

    "Hmm. Very well," she curtseyed and stepped back. "Perhaps another time. If you change your mind-,"

    "I won't."

    "If you do…," Cixi continued smoothly, "You merely have to ask. We will know. A humble peace offering to one new to our number."

    Her piece said, the elder vampire began backing away for a few feet more before turning her back to them. Slowly, aim unwavering, her guards clambered down from the trees and assembled behind her. Neither Johanna nor Genevieve necessarily required air, they did not need to utilize it at all unless it was to speak. This did not prevent the younger's body from trembling as if she were gasping, nor from thin droplets of blood to continue to slip down from her eyes. Quietly, Genevieve moved closer and embraced her get. There were no words for long enough for the sound of Cixi to disappear fully into the distance, and then longer still until the elder vampire's hearing was fully out of range. They were quiet as they watched the white robed vampire continue to descend the hill and into another particularly thick portion of the forest from sight entirely.

    ===================================================================​

    [2336-2340 IC] Celestial Empire of Cathay

    And so it went as it must.

    The war ground on, but provinces were claimed. Absolute defense became absolute offense. The forces of Nippon had lost their incredible advantage, and thus faced the proposition of the massive if sometimes lumbering beast of the Celestial Empire to turn its attentions properly. The WAAAGHS! Of the Hobgoblin Khanate were destroyed in the usual manner – enough gold was utilized to convince the Khans to backstab one another as was the instinctual act of hobgoblins. The ogre tribes were bribed not just to stop their raids, but to join temporarily as mercenaries. Diplomatic efforts softened and warmed relations with the border kingdoms of Ind, and army detachments were rotated. The forces of the First Tiger replenished themselves, and joined the Second and Third Tigers against Nippon. The Fourth and Fifth were granted the grueling yet honorable task of holding off the Hung at the Great Bastion.

    And, perhaps out of pique, or perhaps out of anger for their allying with the Jade-Blooded, the Emperor deployed fully half of the Golden Ten Thousand. Five thousand of the most elite and well-equipped troops in the whole of the Empire, having benefitted from the elixirs and pills of the royal apothecaries and the patronage of the Celestial Dragon Emperor himself. It was a pittance, perhaps, at least numerically to the combined forces of three of the five Tiger Generals, but there was far more to them than mere numbers. Each of the Tiger Generals could call upon Huangdengan, those sorcerers and scholars of the temples, counterparts to the monks and their monasteries, but only the Emperor could sign off on and deploy the astromancers. This time, it was a Storm Altar of Cathay that was brought forth, helmed by one of the extremely rare High Astromancers themselves.

    All the while, Johanna and Genevieve worked as per their duties as Fangs. There was no need for them in the south. Now, they were summoned to just about everywhere else. The tendrils of the Jade-Blooded had expanded vastly, those who had been spared the purging of the coastal provinces, and required much violent pruning. The arrival of Cixi, who was known in the records of the Order of the Chained Ghost, heralded the dangerous return of the attentions of the Pale Queen to the Far East once more. With the Order so depleted by acting openly, their work was direly needed, and even more vital. They learned as they moved, they learned as they hunted. This was not the secluded hours of study and practice in the Jade Dragon monastery, but a grueling and knife-edge matter. There were mistakes made, more than once, mistakes that could have crippled or killed those who were not supernaturally…hardy…as they were. But they could survive them, and so they did. They survived and kept moving, training, learning.

    Hunting.

    Smoke and blood and shadows became all there was. If anything, Johanna seemed almost desperate to do so, throwing herself into the act with even more dedication and effort than she had given to walking the path of the Jade Dragon. It was the nature of vampires to occasionally find obsessions, to become mono-focused, to the exclusion of all else. After all, as they aged, they certainly tended to fall into extremes. Genevieve was no stranger to this, she had once spent five decades attempting to perfect the best possible naval route from Cathay, to Ind, and back to Copher. She'd become so dedicated to art of sea travel that she literally hadn't noticed how much time had passed until she'd blinked and realized she was dealing with the children of the merchants she'd started with…and there was a warrior-priest of Morr with attendant Black Knights literally waiting at her ship.

    But she'd never seen a vampire attempt to force such things on purpose, even with allowing that she didn't try to spend too much time seeking out said other vampires. It would have been easy for the Emperor to command them into the fighting against Nippon, but he seemed satisfied with them acting within the Order of the Chained Ghost's goals, countering the Jade-Blooded and Lahmians, only occasionally pulling them off of that hunt to instead hunt down the latest of the Monkey King's agents. It was just frustrating that the Lahmians seemed to back off the moment they involved themselves, and she was increasingly sure it had more to do with Johanna than it did with her. Genevieve's stance on the rest of her blood kin was well known, and had had centuries to establish itself as bedrock deep. Johanna, on the other hand, was far younger, and still retained a great many attachments to her 'old' life. Attachments that were, in fact, still living. For now, at least.

    They were never approached directly by Cixi again, but that did not mean her presence wasn't felt. Pokes appeared here and there, in the form of anonymously given gifts and messages passed on by messengers who hadn't cared who the sender was. At one point, a small amount of leaves and herbs came while they were recuperating after their latest hunt, this one frustratingly unsuccessful as the Jade-Blooded had retreated from the area rather than stubbornly hold on. They didn't know how many of the villagers retained compulsions that could be activated a single moment. But the package had nearly sent Johanna catatonic, as when it was unpacked the cloud of scents had proved so powerfully overwhelming in nostalgic smells that the Talabeclander was frozen in place. After so many years in Cathay, the smell of 'home' had struck her without warning.

    Just little notes, small offerings, things to remind them of their reach and their willingness to provide things that could bring comfort to her in a foreign land. The influence of long-dead Lahmia was terrifyingly strong. With them, there was no need to try to completely throttle the thirst. Indulgence and luxury could easily be found. At least one utterly enthralled mortal had found them, somehow, while they were in the complete wilderness and camping beneath the stars, only to offer himself to Johanna to drain completely. They'd sent him away, of course, but Johanna hadn't fully drained a person in many years by now, only ever taking the bare minimum. The potential for gluttony, unfortunately, was forever there for all of their kind.

    Genevieve wasn't entirely sure that it wasn't working.

    Johanna had never, truly, recovered from the rejection of her father after the Vampire War. Or, as she'd eventually been able to extract, the debacle that had come after Gan Ping had publicly taken her as his lover. In life she loved, and loved deeply, ensuring that the wounds that could come from that love would be grievous ones. As a vampire, they could get much worse. Some vampires could become utterly obsessed with the past, with creating a perfect little false world and time for them to live in. Genevieve remembered one who had filled their cottage with preserved meat puppets to pretend like they hadn't, in fact, long ago lost their husband and sons to fighting elsewhere. It had been…intensely disquieting. And so Genevieve counseled as best she could, speaking as often as was possible to try and distract away from the efforts of the Lahmians, or to at least get her to refocus on her studies, on the hunt.

    "What do you mean if we drink from a dragon the thirst will be gone?"

    This latest endeavor on the behalf of the Lahmians had been another vampire, but this one was clearly no Cathayan. Indeed, he bore the stark look of an Imperial soldier, if one from long, long ago. He'd come upon them at an inn where all had, regrettably, been inextricably enthralled to a nearby Jade-Blooded. His armor was blood red, his blade glowing with malice and oddly familiar thirst when it was partially revealed from its sheath. A palpable sense of power and strength hung about him, his helmet winged on the sides. Yet he had not offered battle. Only, as that damned Cixi had so cheerfully said, information. And an offer for them to fight to the death afterwards, rather than risk being suspected of letting vampires simply walk away from them when the Order of the Chained Ghost was meant to kill them.

    "I mean you can be free of it," the Blood Knight said calmly. "Have you never heard the tales of Abhorash? He waits, even now, at the mountaintop where he slew and drank from the dragon."

    He sat on a slightly chipped stool, looking about at the floor and walls covered in blood.

    "Did you know?" Johanna half-turned, eyes narrowed to slits and voice deathly quiet, to Genevieve. "That it really was true? You said it wasn't."

    "What?" Genevieve raised her eyebrows.

    "Did you know," Johanna repeated. "Drinking a dragon will just…completely free us from this curse?"

    "I told you, it's just a rumor," Genevieve protested. "Vampires have been trying to control the thirst for thousands of years-,"

    "But what if it's true!?" Johanna hissed. "We're…we're in…the Emperor can give out the Dragon Blood Elixirs, and-,"

    "Won't work," the Blood Knight, Helmut, said wearily. "It's been tried. They are certainly…empowering, or so I've heard, and may quiet the thirst magnificently, but…never permanently." Then he looked at Genevieve. "But it is not just a rumor. It has been done before. Abhorash has done it. A small handful of others have as well."

    "And how could you possibly know," Genevieve crossed her arms.

    "Because I've been to the mountain," Helmut said calmly. "Some have tried to ascend it without conquering the thirst, without drinking the life from a dragon, and they are cast back down. None have survived doing so, but there is often someone willing to try, just to truly witness the pinnacle of martial achievement," he trailed off dreamily, sighing as he looked into the middle distance at some imagined future.

    Genevieve blinked rapidly.

    "Just…just a dragon. Any dragon?" Johanna pressed.

    Helmut frowned.

    "Any dragon is a dragon, a noble beast and quarry without equal, so-,"

    "But I've already killed one!" Johanna seethed, causing Helmut to almost drop his helmet from his hands.

    "I..what?"

    "In the Mountains of Mourn, the convoy was attacked, we shot it down with cannons and…and I got the killing blow through its eye," Johanna babbled rapidly, and if she wasn't literally incapable of it she might have begun hyperventilating.

    "A shame," Helmut sighed. "It deserved a true contest, not an execution. For instance," he rose, unsheathing his sword. "The contest we shall have right now."

    Just as instantly, even frustrated and bewildered as Johanna was, both monks leapt backwards into defensive stances.

    "I was asked to tell you something before I killed you," Helmut said as he fully unsheathed his sword. "You have thought, all this time, that your sire possessed the sum total of knowledge possessed on our kind, all our secrets," he cracked his neck from side to side and fell into a classical stance. "She is not even past her first thousand years! There is much you could learn if you ceased to limit yourself so."

    Then he paused.

    "Not sure why she wanted me to give you that message, given what I'm about to do to you, but I made an oath and could not fail to honor it," he shrugged.

    "You know," Genevieve said tersely, "It's just as likely you were pointed our way so that we'd kill you."

    The blood knight sucked some air through his fangs.

    "No, that doesn't sound like Cixi to me. She wouldn't lie to me like that."

    Ah. Of course.

    Genevieve almost laughed.

    She'd almost forgotten just how deluded and utterly insane her own kind could be.

    "Anyway, time to die, then I'm going to drink from every dragon inside Wu Tien Shan."

    And that, above all, neither could ignore nor allow.

    ============================================================​

    [2341 IC] Guanghai Province Wilderness, Near Ind-Cathay Borders

    To say that there was not a growing friction between get and sire would be a lie. Despite Genevieve's best efforts, and the fact that Johanna was perfectly consciously aware of what was being done, the relentless and painfully intimate manipulations were beginning to work. It was an art to psychologically grind down and manipulate from over a thousand miles away through agents, but if there was any who had honed their skills in doing so, it would be the self-proclaimed First Vampire. Johanna had long warred with her nostalgia and memories of the Empire, wondering if or when she would ever return, and how. She had immersed herself in the ranks of the Jade Dragon because of the promise of control and was now being offered alternatives that were far more attractive and pleasant – on the face of it – than the painful and near ascetic levels of discipline the initial solution required. Worse, despite all of that, Genevieve flatly refused to make use of the inherent connection that certain sires could utilize over their gets, she had not even attempted it to know if it was possible, what with Johanna being her first and likely last ever get.

    Still, they continued in the ranks of the Order of the Chained Ghost, both having learned a considerable amount. While it was true that all vampires could more easily draw upon and master the evil art of necromancy, not all could do the same with Shyish specifically. Thankfully, Johanna and Genevieve were at least capable of that much. They had been seconded under Master Tang, one of the remaining elders left after the purges, and had journeyed to the far west of the country. It had been astonishing to learn of cooperative efforts between the mysterious Desai of Ind and the Order of the Chained Ghost, but as they held a wide land border together, perhaps it shouldn't have been as surprising as it was. More important than that, however, was that the Desai was bringing some 'wizards' along, westerners from some paltry western nation that called itself an Empire as well – an intriguing prospect once they had stripped the Cathayan bias from the words. Not to mention that Johanna was gaining an increasing…lean…towards possibly journeying to the west once more. To be fair, she'd learned well. Extremely well.

    Just as she had told Johanna when she had turned her, Master Po had spent three decades beating the control into her along with everything else. It had been as much a matter of pride for him as anything else, apparently even keeping her hidden from the eyes of the Order at the same time. Genevieve knew what worked and what didn't, and as a vampire herself knew the limits to push and pull at to help Johanna along. It was just unfortunate that the Lahmians knew about plenty more levers and had the skill to use them.

    And for all of that, Genevieve couldn't tell if the Lahmians wanted Johanna to stay in Cathay or to, in fact, leave it once more. Knowing them, they likely had plans for both and more, not just for Johanna but for herself as well.

    Then all those thoughts had gone out the window when they'd reached the border and been met with the forbidding Desai and his foreign companions. The Desai himself felt like he was gently burning her alive with his very presence, utterly inimical to all things undead. The wizards burned like a trio of torches of Shyish, but there was a shocking thread of the same power that filled the Desai that wound its way about them as well. There had been talk, and prideful Master Tang relented at his lack of mastery of Reikspiel.

    Then…

    "…von Hohenzollern of the Amethyst College," the albino twins spoke in eerie unison, something serpentine clearly shifting about beneath their robes along their shoulders and upper arms.

    And then all of a sudden, within just a few minutes, they were revealed blatantly to the Amethyst College, which Genevieve had already been leery of when first hearing about, and for the first time in years the sire saw genuine joy and happiness on her get's face. A joy that dimmed, but later returned, as they were regaled with tales of the west, of the Empire, and of friends that still yet lived. Some of it was hearsay, of course, given the apparent globetrotting that the wizards were doing, but it was far more than even the Lahmian 'presents' had ever offered. Not less than a few days later did another present arrive, of course, perhaps in defiance of just such a thing…but Johanna surprised her. This time, she accepted the small yet exquisite carving of a jade stag and gave it to the twins as a gift to take home with them without hesitation rather than sit and stare at it for hours.

    After checking it over for poisons and enchantments, of course.

    "Johanna?"

    "Yes, master?"

    It was the first time she'd called her that since they'd both left the Jade Dragon Monastery, since Johanna had technically been declared a Master in her own right, if of the absolute lowest level.

    "Are you feeling all right?"

    Johanna had smiled.

    "Never better."
     
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    • This was meant to come out yesterday, I really tried...but just couldn't manage it. Was really shooting for 2 a day all the way, but stumbled. Ah well. Have it now! Belated Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays/Giftmas/Etc. To All who wished it to me.
     
    Nice. Always liked seeing East in WHF. Sadly it always leaves me frustrated with how much more magical they are compared to west. Hell West looks outright grimy and dull compared to glimpses we get, even elves look mundane.

    It is probably familarity breeding contempt.
     
    ContemplateLife said:
    Ok, makes sense to me. But just to be clear, technological advancements are not fundamentally impossible on Mallus, just harder than on earth...
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    I mean, we've invented some significant, nontrivial stuff during Freddy's reign already. We're currently in rollout of the seed drill, which plays a big role in the increase of crop yields that historically led to the Industrial Revolution.

    It's just that we shouldn't expect to be able to "race up the tech tree" just because OOC we know of all sorts of cool technologies that are theoretically 'easy to make.' IC things still get invented at some reasonable, modest pace, but we play turns year by year so that feels slow to us.
     
    tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock. tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock.


    Merry Christmas everybody. and the pendulum of Damocles swings ever onward lower and lower toward the final day when the final Tick Tock ends.
     
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