Warhammer Fantasy: Honor is all, Chivalry is all (Bretonnia CK2)
- Thread starter Voikirium
- Start date
- Location
- Germany
[X] Quest of Valor, she can wash away her crimes with blood of our enemies, there is enough orcs, beastmen and monsters in our lands and Massif Orcal to provide apt oportunity for redemption. We will even let her carry weapon of her choice.
[X] No.
Sounds good. Changing to this.
[X] No.
Sounds good. Changing to this.
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
No idea.
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It's going up after the punishment, yeah.
Hora Hora!
Also changing my vote:
[X] Quest of Valor, she can wash away her crimes with blood of our enemies, there is enough orcs, beastmen and monsters in our lands and Massif Orcal to provide apt oportunity for redemption. We will even let her carry weapon of her choice.
[X] No.
Vote tally:
##### 3.21
[X] Brand. This was a deed most foul, an act most unholy— but you must not stoop to her level. Remind them all with a single burn and be done with it.
[X] No
No. of votes: 7
Derek58, veekie, Night_stalker, bdun140, KnightDisciple, wingstrike96, SoaringHawk218
[X] Brand. This was a deed most foul, an act most unholy— but you must not stoop to her level. Remind them all with a single burn and be done with it.
[X] Make her useful. She wishes to rule? Let her rule the Massif. She will take 500 men and sufficient supplies and form an outpost in the Massif, one loyal to Bretonnia— and if she should leave it without your permission, you will break her.
[X] No but allow him a week to get him things in order and then if he wishes let him be one of the 500 to follow. His job will be to keep his wife in check
No. of votes: 1
kitsune9
[X] Banishment. She will leave Montfort, and will only ever be allowed to return if called on.
No. of votes: 1
Arbit
[X] Make your sister brand her husband. Then send them to an out of the way holding preferably near the inquisition. If she does this none of their children (if any) will suffer the brand.
No. of votes: 1
Álli Méra
[X] Brand. This was a deed most foul, an act most unholy— but you must not stoop to her level. Remind them all with a single burn and be done with it.
No. of votes: 2
Restalaan, ThatsSoKraven
[X] Brand. This was a deed most foul, an act most unholy— but you must not stoop to her level. Remind them all with a single burn and be done with it.
[X] Sequester. Place her under house arrest. She shall spend her time in a tower praying to the Lady for forgiveness under the watchful eye of the guards posted there, only her husband can visit her, her children, should she have them, will not visit her and will be cared for the Duke, her husband can of course visit them (the children).
No. of votes: 1
doruma1920
[X] Brand
[X] Sequester
-[X] Supply the guards but keep her secluded in Armistead's lands and to his expense.
[X] No
-[X] You have proven yourself too trusting, not a traitor or kinslayer. It falls to you to keep a watch on her and keep her from ruining your family any more.
[X] Musicians
[X] Reliquae
[X] Bring My Barons Before Me
[X] Giseroux
[X] Quarry
[X] Check It
[X] Info
[X] Tutoring
[X] Check The Journals
No. of votes: 1[/B]
barenhart
[X] Quest of Valor, she can wash away her crimes with blood of our enemies, there is enough orcs, beastmen and monsters in our lands and Massif Orcal to provide apt oportunity for redemption. We will even let her carry weapon of her choice.
[X] No.
No. of votes: 3
aja318, Artemis1992, TheNotoriousSMP
##### 3.21
[X] Brand. This was a deed most foul, an act most unholy— but you must not stoop to her level. Remind them all with a single burn and be done with it.
[X] No
No. of votes: 7
Derek58, veekie, Night_stalker, bdun140, KnightDisciple, wingstrike96, SoaringHawk218
[X] Brand. This was a deed most foul, an act most unholy— but you must not stoop to her level. Remind them all with a single burn and be done with it.
[X] Make her useful. She wishes to rule? Let her rule the Massif. She will take 500 men and sufficient supplies and form an outpost in the Massif, one loyal to Bretonnia— and if she should leave it without your permission, you will break her.
[X] No but allow him a week to get him things in order and then if he wishes let him be one of the 500 to follow. His job will be to keep his wife in check
No. of votes: 1
kitsune9
[X] Banishment. She will leave Montfort, and will only ever be allowed to return if called on.
No. of votes: 1
Arbit
[X] Make your sister brand her husband. Then send them to an out of the way holding preferably near the inquisition. If she does this none of their children (if any) will suffer the brand.
No. of votes: 1
Álli Méra
[X] Brand. This was a deed most foul, an act most unholy— but you must not stoop to her level. Remind them all with a single burn and be done with it.
No. of votes: 2
Restalaan, ThatsSoKraven
[X] Brand. This was a deed most foul, an act most unholy— but you must not stoop to her level. Remind them all with a single burn and be done with it.
[X] Sequester. Place her under house arrest. She shall spend her time in a tower praying to the Lady for forgiveness under the watchful eye of the guards posted there, only her husband can visit her, her children, should she have them, will not visit her and will be cared for the Duke, her husband can of course visit them (the children).
No. of votes: 1
doruma1920
[X] Brand
[X] Sequester
-[X] Supply the guards but keep her secluded in Armistead's lands and to his expense.
[X] No
-[X] You have proven yourself too trusting, not a traitor or kinslayer. It falls to you to keep a watch on her and keep her from ruining your family any more.
[X] Musicians
[X] Reliquae
[X] Bring My Barons Before Me
[X] Giseroux
[X] Quarry
[X] Check It
[X] Info
[X] Tutoring
[X] Check The Journals
No. of votes: 1[/B]
barenhart
[X] Quest of Valor, she can wash away her crimes with blood of our enemies, there is enough orcs, beastmen and monsters in our lands and Massif Orcal to provide apt oportunity for redemption. We will even let her carry weapon of her choice.
[X] No.
No. of votes: 3
aja318, Artemis1992, TheNotoriousSMP
The Brand
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The Brand
Your sister steps forward, in white robe and red dress. Her husband stands with her, anger chained as he looks around the walls and halls, before opening the door for her and grabbing her hand. He walks with her as they step forward, down and down from the tower to the Hall. Fiery red locks spell down from the hood, framing her face as through the last and final door she walks.
The weather is gorgeous. The sun send little spears of light down on all. The sky is a striking shade of blue that would bewitch the eye; many simply enjoy the view, while those with the gift paint a scenic picture that shall be long remembered. There's not a cloud in sight.
Songbirds make beautiful music that enchants the ear. It is high, but clear, and a cheery little chirp. The bells ring out, too, to mark the hour and give the Day-Song bombast that well accentuates it. Riotous knights cheer and carouse through the streets, caroling and making merry, as do many a peasant with a free day while others turn to industry.
It is altogether awful weather for punishment
There, the nobles of Montfort are assembled. The heat is sweltering, and not helped by the brazier that sits, churning fire, in the middle of the hall, spitting fire and warming the brand itself. The mood is tense, and the hall silent. Sweat trickles down your brow as your sister, in finery, is escorted by her husband to her punishment.
Finally, they stand before you. "Carole Armistead! My once-sister! You stand guilty of treason, of murder, and of plotting the deaths of children. Men have been killed, or sent to die far from home; but not you. Instead, for your crimes, you will be marked forevermore with the Field White, to always remind you of what you have done and what you planned to do. It is more mercy, more benevolence, than you deserve."
Her face is a mask of marble as she looks at you pull out the brand, revealing the molten form of your father's personal heraldry. A castle split in twain by an axe; there is an irony, there. The size of a gold coin, the brand itself is cherry red, and even from your position you sweat at it, more so than from the heat.
"Would you prefer the quick route, or the slower one?"
"Faster."
And so it is you spring out. With a dreadful hiss, the steam billows out from her new-marred flesh, her grip tightens and she is in pain and part of you hates yourself for it, part of you wishes to break the brand and slide yourself on your sword because you have hurt your sister, your flesh and blood, have maimed her-
But then you remember your father, lying dead, cold, on the ground.
And it doesn't feel so bad.
The brand is removed, mark new shown on her cheek. Apothecaries race to her as your nephews cry out, somewhere in the city for their mother. A smell not unlike pork invades your nostrils, as a sizzling sound like meat on a grill pours out the hall.
Heading up to your room, you strip off the Ducal Raiment, and slide on breeches and tunic; a robe is thrown over your shoulders as an after thought, and all of it in white and black. You feel nauseous with guilt, your nephews screams as he sees his mother seem to play at the edge of your hearing. You have done what you most-
"Guilt speaks well for you, Dearest." Your wife glides into the room like shadow made flesh, all pale skin and dark cloak. It does your heart well to see her, but it still doesn't feel right. Though she is pregnant, it does little to hinder her own stealth. "You know what I would have done, if my sister had done something so base, so vile?"
"You would have dissuaded her. Your prowess, your wisdom, would have made it as dust before the wind."
"I love you think so highly of me. I love you, that you have such hope in me, such faith in one so ill-deserving." She smiles then, and your heart so battered sings her praises as you look to her.
"But no." You look to her questioningly.
"I'd have slit her throat in the forest." You look shocked, disturbed, and she must see it. "Even now, I itch, to go down there and cut out her heart, for threatening me, our children, you. I wish to see her broken before me."
"But you have restrained me. I do not do so because you would... dislike it. If I thought it necessary I would, but it is not, and I have you to thank for showing me that."
Snorting, you flop back on the bed, suddenly drained. "And if it were not for you, I would be dead or maimed or broken; at best a canary in a golden cage. I am a fool, blind to the darkness around me."
"You are a good man who believes in people, and we need that more than we need more executioners." She falls to one hand herself, holding her head on her palm. "A deal, then. You will be my conscience, and I will be your knife, and together we will bring this world into a better age."
"You have my word." You lean over and kiss her, holding her.
"I love you."
"I know."
Sleep comes fitfully to you, that night. If not for Morgyan and her draught, brewed the week before, the old nightmares would have comeback; as is, you still stare down your fair share of new ones.
Lady forbid that your own children should ever come to such terrible blows.
Perhaps it's base guilt, perhaps it's your mercy (pah, what mercy in marring flesh, in harming your sister, in the sizzle and the stench and the smoke), perhaps it's that you want to know your children will never fall so far, perhaps it's all of the above reasons and then some, but whatever it is you find yourself attempting, more than ever, to be fair, just, and right. You pray to the Lady more than ever, entire days spent at her chapel; you treat women well, sending many apothecaries to your sister perhaps to sooth your own conscience; and your own children you teach, and your newest son is already eagerly awaited by all.
Whatever the case, you're now known for Chivalry.
---
Philip Gains Trait: Chivalrous (+1 Piety, +1 Diplomacy)
Survey should be up tonight.
Your sister steps forward, in white robe and red dress. Her husband stands with her, anger chained as he looks around the walls and halls, before opening the door for her and grabbing her hand. He walks with her as they step forward, down and down from the tower to the Hall. Fiery red locks spell down from the hood, framing her face as through the last and final door she walks.
The weather is gorgeous. The sun send little spears of light down on all. The sky is a striking shade of blue that would bewitch the eye; many simply enjoy the view, while those with the gift paint a scenic picture that shall be long remembered. There's not a cloud in sight.
Songbirds make beautiful music that enchants the ear. It is high, but clear, and a cheery little chirp. The bells ring out, too, to mark the hour and give the Day-Song bombast that well accentuates it. Riotous knights cheer and carouse through the streets, caroling and making merry, as do many a peasant with a free day while others turn to industry.
It is altogether awful weather for punishment
There, the nobles of Montfort are assembled. The heat is sweltering, and not helped by the brazier that sits, churning fire, in the middle of the hall, spitting fire and warming the brand itself. The mood is tense, and the hall silent. Sweat trickles down your brow as your sister, in finery, is escorted by her husband to her punishment.
Finally, they stand before you. "Carole Armistead! My once-sister! You stand guilty of treason, of murder, and of plotting the deaths of children. Men have been killed, or sent to die far from home; but not you. Instead, for your crimes, you will be marked forevermore with the Field White, to always remind you of what you have done and what you planned to do. It is more mercy, more benevolence, than you deserve."
Her face is a mask of marble as she looks at you pull out the brand, revealing the molten form of your father's personal heraldry. A castle split in twain by an axe; there is an irony, there. The size of a gold coin, the brand itself is cherry red, and even from your position you sweat at it, more so than from the heat.
"Would you prefer the quick route, or the slower one?"
"Faster."
And so it is you spring out. With a dreadful hiss, the steam billows out from her new-marred flesh, her grip tightens and she is in pain and part of you hates yourself for it, part of you wishes to break the brand and slide yourself on your sword because you have hurt your sister, your flesh and blood, have maimed her-
But then you remember your father, lying dead, cold, on the ground.
And it doesn't feel so bad.
The brand is removed, mark new shown on her cheek. Apothecaries race to her as your nephews cry out, somewhere in the city for their mother. A smell not unlike pork invades your nostrils, as a sizzling sound like meat on a grill pours out the hall.
Heading up to your room, you strip off the Ducal Raiment, and slide on breeches and tunic; a robe is thrown over your shoulders as an after thought, and all of it in white and black. You feel nauseous with guilt, your nephews screams as he sees his mother seem to play at the edge of your hearing. You have done what you most-
"Guilt speaks well for you, Dearest." Your wife glides into the room like shadow made flesh, all pale skin and dark cloak. It does your heart well to see her, but it still doesn't feel right. Though she is pregnant, it does little to hinder her own stealth. "You know what I would have done, if my sister had done something so base, so vile?"
"You would have dissuaded her. Your prowess, your wisdom, would have made it as dust before the wind."
"I love you think so highly of me. I love you, that you have such hope in me, such faith in one so ill-deserving." She smiles then, and your heart so battered sings her praises as you look to her.
"But no." You look to her questioningly.
"I'd have slit her throat in the forest." You look shocked, disturbed, and she must see it. "Even now, I itch, to go down there and cut out her heart, for threatening me, our children, you. I wish to see her broken before me."
"But you have restrained me. I do not do so because you would... dislike it. If I thought it necessary I would, but it is not, and I have you to thank for showing me that."
Snorting, you flop back on the bed, suddenly drained. "And if it were not for you, I would be dead or maimed or broken; at best a canary in a golden cage. I am a fool, blind to the darkness around me."
"You are a good man who believes in people, and we need that more than we need more executioners." She falls to one hand herself, holding her head on her palm. "A deal, then. You will be my conscience, and I will be your knife, and together we will bring this world into a better age."
"You have my word." You lean over and kiss her, holding her.
"I love you."
"I know."
Sleep comes fitfully to you, that night. If not for Morgyan and her draught, brewed the week before, the old nightmares would have comeback; as is, you still stare down your fair share of new ones.
Lady forbid that your own children should ever come to such terrible blows.
Perhaps it's base guilt, perhaps it's your mercy (pah, what mercy in marring flesh, in harming your sister, in the sizzle and the stench and the smoke), perhaps it's that you want to know your children will never fall so far, perhaps it's all of the above reasons and then some, but whatever it is you find yourself attempting, more than ever, to be fair, just, and right. You pray to the Lady more than ever, entire days spent at her chapel; you treat women well, sending many apothecaries to your sister perhaps to sooth your own conscience; and your own children you teach, and your newest son is already eagerly awaited by all.
Whatever the case, you're now known for Chivalry.
---
Philip Gains Trait: Chivalrous (+1 Piety, +1 Diplomacy)
Survey should be up tonight.
Last edited:
- Location
- the Netherworld Dood
Can we still lock her up in a dungeon? because leting her run around is just asking for her to come back with CHAOS aid latter because you know she is going to get desperate.
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
This is painful for me.
Nervos Belli
Don't think this means you've won!
- Location
- Murica
It's not like King Arthur had the best family relations, you know? One would think you would be used to it.
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
What can I say, my heart has not grown harder over time. Only ever softer.
- Location
- the Netherworld Dood
and more stabbed your saberyness?
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Oh, there were more restrained ones.
Also this isn't the worst possible punishment in her eyes, but that's really neither here nor there.
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
And how is she going to get it?
No Chaos worshipper is going within a quarter mile of the person who is obviously marked as a heretic for anyone to see, because they like not being burnt at the stake.
She can offer her soul, yes, but it's unlikely to get her much power. And good luck forming a dissident movement when you are literally marked for all to see as a traitor, that makes people leery of being near you.
- Location
- Germany
Money speeks louder than honor, to many people (not all and certainly not the PC, but many) and we don't know her husbands opinion on her. Assuming she is harmless now is a mistake.
OTOH a literal divine intervention from Chaos seems unlikely too.
OTOH a literal divine intervention from Chaos seems unlikely too.
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
Y'know, I like this. The setting being Warhammer and all, it's easy to miss the fact that most people simply don't like hurting other people, much less family members. The fact that he feels bad for something so minor as branding her speaks well of him and gives a perspective often missed in these grand games of war and bloodshed and gods and politics.
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
- Location
- Wall Gazing
Uh, the personal actions on the survey has Spend Time With Morgyan instead of Skulking In The Shadows
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