[X] The Roost (Cloisters)
[] the Cave, Theboald's Hall (Casbah)
[X] In full costume.
It's really gotta be one of these. Those parties might even be opportunities… still gong with the Roost for now. May as well go full costume with that. Own the role.
The Princeps has built his career from steady victories against the barbarians in Armoria and Talia, defeating various tribes, taking them into slavery and opening their lands for colonization. Various articles warn of rising tensions with the Elven colonies lead by Tor Alessi and the furthest branch of the Karaz Ankor in Karak Izor. As the War of the Beard has raged, and Elvish and Dwarven power waned, the Princeps has taking advantage by conquering their wealthy, weak client states. A risky strategy, but as long the siege of Athel Maraya by the Fivefold Throng continues, and the Princeps stays attacking humans, there is little risk of immediate escalation.
So funny thing, assuming that Stalia means Estalia, the peninsula is both free land and a wonderful breadbasket. There's only one tiny elven settlement there and is pretty much unclaimed by anyone who matters. You've just got to go either through or around the Abasko Mountains(which are themselves rich in silver).
He rushes forward, an inch from your face, and jabs you, hard, in the nose. "Right there you are, right here! A brother without brothers – ha! – hardly a brother at all! A tasty morsel, though" and at that he moves even closer, his breath in yours, his forehead smushing into your check, his arms in a vague embrace. "I'm so sorry you have to be eaten. But better me than a rat!" And then he bites your nose.
I see someone has become a little unaccountably peckish.
Still, not good. We got a lead to investigate, the Master Steward's presence at a failed ritual that he emerged from unscathed is suspicious, but it could also be a red herring. While Xenophon notes more is not a god who smites, that doesn't preclude the Clergy from simply screwing up catastrophically. And considering the survivors cutting and running while leaving a kid to look after six mad men, it doesn't exactly show the Cult in a good light.
Unlikely in my opinion, but not impossible at any rate.
Followers are characters willing to assist you on your quest. They offer you particular advantages on each turn, from performing certain acts for you, to making others less risky.
So with some clarification I'd say this is a strong argument for getting more followers as quickly as possible. Being able to better cover ourselves during risky actions will help us tremendously.
The first is a rather pleasant apartment in Elftown. The ordinary residents are out for a short sojourn to Athel Loren, albeit short for Elf-time, meaning a decade. The rent is cheap enough to not need you to have to struggle for money anytime soon, though the place poses some difficulties. Elftown has a curfew- the district is walled, and the gates sealed at 9pm. It will be very difficult to go out from here. Further, the remainder of the building is currently empty, but on inquiring with the doorman, you learn it is rented to a "Mordrin Fellheart" of Karond Kar. You've never met a Dark Elf, but you still can surmise it's a bit of an oddity to rent an entire building for no apparent reason half across the world.
On the one hand, this place is probably the safest in the sense that the elves would not appreciate someone bringing trouble to their door. Sort of dont shit where you sleep. On the other hand, Dark Elves.
The second is not technically a rental at all. Instead, it is a job position. The Senator for the Casbah, Jehdai Rubus Spania, or more correctly, his wife Suplicia, or even more accurately, their slave Morani, have advertised for an ornamental hermit. You are reasonably sure to get the position, insofar you are willing to give up your dignity as a cleric, which, considering the state of the Cult, is not much in the first place. You will get a fairly pleasant renovated artificial cave with bedroom, sitting-place and illusionary telegraph. You have no actual obligation to be present, merely give evidence of your existence to add mystery to the garden, bar at a particular event in two weeks time, a campaign party Suplicia is having for her husband. There, you are of course to read an obscure, tasteful text, and offer cryptic advice. In exchange, you get room, board, and a small stipend – not too bad, all things considered.
I don't like the idea of locking in an action to go to the party, though since we're not actually paying for the room it might wind up being superior on the action economy.
The third is canalboat in the Skavi. It is reasonably inexpensive, though you think you might have to take up some work in about a month or so to cover marina fees. It has the convenience of being locatable anywhere, so that you have no problem traversing the various districts at your leisure. It also has just a lovely, recently redone interior. As for counterpoints, it's terribly small, so you're unable to host or hide anybody, and bad weather would prove more difficult than the average residence to endure.
You could also stay in the Roost, which seems eminently questionable, though free, and cavernous, or continue staying in your hotel, in which case you'd need to take work this week or the next.
Think I'm going to go with the canalboat. The minors aren't dealbreakers for me when we have an option to just move the place around.
[X] S. S. Sea's the Day (Brass Quarter)
Within the Twin Cities, his Grace is well-liked among the populace for the wealth he has created and glory he's won. He is personable, known for delivering news of the loss of his officers to their families directly.
The High Lord Suttar is however notable in just how much money he appears to be putting into this pet project, and the degree of confidentiality surrounding it – not a leak in all the papers you can find.
This less so. It's hard to separate meta-knowledge from my decision making, but in this case the portents of Doom we've been getting combined with what we already know make it hard not to see this as suspicious.
On the one hand, anything that weakens the power of the institution of slavery is a good thing in my book. The problem is it is bound to some rhetoric that I get rather uncomfortable vibes from.
Still, we've got a list of names now. And who knows, perhaps we'll manage to influence how the political situation develops. We are the most senior Morrite priest now.
Your co-passenger happens to be dwarf, though clearly not a Skavorite. He lacks the geometric "tattoos" – really, lines of embedded gemstones - that the local dwarves favored and seemed to be in some way essential to their curious magic. No, your fellow visitor's skin is unmarred, what little you can see, for he is wrapped in a thick black robe that seems to disguise a sword on his hip that glimmers out of the corner of your eye with some unfamiliar magic. He does not speak, even in greeting, and you do not engage him.
A fascinating look into Skavorite culture, though meta-knowledge again is making me look at everything here with concern. The apparent sacrifice of multiple elder Dwarfs to what effectively was a hole in the ground is a particularly bad look.
I'm also curious about the possible(?) Gazulite Dwarf drawing the blade but stopping when he sees us looking at him. Perhaps we weren't actually meant to be able to see him?
And the Rune of Gazul. Xenophon doesn't know that, but it does mean we know that he is... if not on our side, opposed to the coming disaster. I have to wonder if my theory that he was meant to be hidden holds weight or if he just recognised Xenophon as a priest of Morr and figured we were trustworthy.
[X] In a plain white toga.
I'm going with anonymity for the theatre. Whoever is getting in contact with us knows who we are so being recognisable isn't a benefit there. Meanwhile, I don't trust the events regarding the Master Steward. Our presence will be noted in the city before long, especially if we start performing last rites, but I'd like to at least wait before announcing we're here.
[X] The Roost (Cloisters)
[X] In a plain white toga.
I don't trust any other dwelling and we should be as anonymous as we can be for as long as we can be. Even in character we know shit is about to go down and go down hard. We will not have the luxury of anonymity for long and will have to fight hard to get it for even a single action latter down the line.
The High Lord Suttar is however notable in just how much money he appears to be putting into this pet project, and the degree of confidentiality surrounding it – not a leak in all the papers you can find.
At that, the whole cavern rumbles, as Sons, pulling off gloves and boots dip their petrified extremities into the water, and yank with all their occult power to connect themselves to the stone.
A fascinating look into Skavorite culture, though meta-knowledge again is making me look at everything here with concern. The apparent sacrifice of multiple elder Dwarfs to what effectively was a hole in the ground is a particularly bad look.
I'm also curious about the possible(?) Gazulite Dwarf drawing the blade but stopping when he sees us looking at him. Perhaps we weren't actually meant to be able to see him?
The whole deal with the Sons of Skavor was very thematic and disturbing. I don't know how much of that is original to the quest but I think it's a lot and it was very interesting.
[X] the Cave, Theboald's Hall (Casbah)
This is to funny not to vote for.
[X] S. S. Sea's the Day (Brass Quarter)
This seems like a good option and I love the pun.
[X] In a plain white toga.
why stay in the roost, the cloister, when one can instead take residence in the glorious cave of casbah???
[X] the Cave, Theoboald's Hall
one must always evoke a sense of mystery + enigma no matter where they present themselves...bystanders will be asking 'who is this unfamiliar figure dressed in a plain white toga???
Heavy falls the shadow of death. The temples of Morr are not typically popular places, nor are their priests. Yet as you lean to push open the wrought iron gates of the Garden of Raven's Roost, the total absence of anyone unnerves you. You've always found the Roost claustrophobic. Space is at a premium in the city, and in the Cloisters especially, so the graves here are crammed together, some literally atop each other, as families choose to save money by not buying a new plot, but simply building a new crypt atop the old. In fact, the Garden hardly bears the title – there's not grass nor trees to be seen, the only vegetation the essential black roses. But at a closer look – they're wilting. You've never seen that before – even in your parish, even with your adversarial relationship with gardening, you managed to keep the sacred plant of Morr ever-blooming.
hmmm adds to the warped unnatural wrong feeling of this city gardens of morr should be filled with life it one of the things i have alawasy loved about the asthetic with them but in this city so tighly packed and with moor influence at a all time low. Also hinting the wealth is not good overall not good stuff. The real bad sign is the black rose whilting. Things are bad but I also think that the city is also whitling too
You approach the Roost proper. It is a squat, grey stone building, meant to invoke the entrance to an ancient burial mound. A single pitch-black door with a silver handle sits within a recessed archway, the only entrance. Above the door, an hourglass, and the words "Memento Mori". If there's one thing you couldn't critique your brothers on, they do know how to cultivate an atmosphere. You knock, once. The noise echoes down, down, into the underground catacombs below. There is what sounds like a sudden pattering of feet, but no answer. You try the handle – the door's unlocked. You proceed down a sloping downward stone hall, unadorned. Candles sit in niches on the walls, but only one in every five is lit, casting the temple in an eerie, dim glow. You feel a dull dread. Has it happened, somehow? Are you too late? You Look, and there is but a small comfort – the Roost is free from corruption, still held in the soothing cool of your God's sanctification – this place is not totally lost yet to Morr. You arrive in the main hall, a circular chamber filled with simple wooden benches, and a small stone plinth for preaching and funerary orations. On it, as you approach, there appears to be a half-eaten dinner of bread and garum, with a cup still full of small beer. Beside is well-worn copy of the Black Book – not quite Morrite scripture, but a guide to the practices and operations of the Cult.
one in every five is lit... that def means something there no pretty high chance that does symbolize soething or some other work here. but the roost is free of corrutpion though, it still sancfited the damage is not complete yet...hmmm think we will need more informaiton later on to see what that it could be or mean. Or maybe I am just worrying for nothing and it showcasing how things are amising which is being doing great here the slow build up tension. Also hurrah book!!! we should read book though sounds like we know it already
oh someone here hurrah! also a book not super useful for us but still good!
You lean down to pick it up to see what your absent brother had been reading, when you hear another patter, and then a giggle behind you. You swing round and see emerging from a side corridor that you know leads to the cells and mess halls something that might have been a Priest of Morr. It is an elderly bald man in ragged grey robes. They would have been embroidered with skulls and hourglasses, but those have all been ripped out, leaving open seams and loose thread. He stinks of unwashing and rotting meat. His face is a rictus, his mind a whirlwind of Shyish, but what draws most focus is his eyes – absolute pitch black.
"Ding dong!" he shouts, as he advances on you.
You take a step back, and your back hits the plinth. "Peace, brother!"
well shit stuff gone very very wrong to say the least, also yah they def have turned there bakc on morr with all the stuff ripped out for it. hmmm pitch black....are there any gods associted with pitch blackness..could just be the sign of the ritual go wrong
"Brother – no, more, no siree. A layman's life for me! He! He!". The fellow laughs. He's a foot in front of you
"My – er, my mistake, sir. Might you tell me where I could find one?" Subtly as you can, you grab the breadknife sitting behind you.
He rushes forward, an inch from your face, and jabs you, hard, in the nose. "Right there you are, right here! A brother without brothers – ha! – hardly a brother at all! A tasty morsel, though" and at that he moves even closer, his breath in yours, his forehead smushing into your check, his arms in a vague embrace. "I'm so sorry you have to be eaten. But better me than a rat!" And then he bites your nose.
hmmm layman life yep def have rejected morr anyway there is such a great lead up for tension here in your seat as thing get worse and worse. Also eating humans? dude crazy there beer and bread right here! also yah cannibal right here dunno if this is a sign of the horned rat but feels like
You scream and flail, bashing the man in the head with your knife. You open a thin wound on his scalp, which bleeds hard. It does not improve his smell. In his daze, you take the opportunity to hoist yourself backwards up onto the plinth. You spill garum right down your robe, but you manage to scrabble to the back of the room.
The former priest's head is soaked in blood now. He stares at you with animal intent, repeating, sing-song "God-Meat! God-Meat! God-Meat!".
I dunno this might be earlier signs of skavenfaction if that make sense? the ritual might have even worked tbh they saw the full future of the horned rat everyhting and could not handle it. also god meat well at least we know morr likes us! also the way he speaks is ver similar to skaven and god meat sounds like it too.
You grab the candle from the wall, getting ready to snuff it and use your witchsight to get around him in the dark. You're, however. stopped in your brilliant plan by the crash of metal. Rushing into the room is a blond teenager in the scale armour of a poor legionnaire, wielding a pitch-black greatsword buzzing with the chill certainty of the Lord of the Dead. With but a (clumsy) strike in the air with the blade in the air, a cold gale blasts through the room. The would-be cannibal collapses, as you feel a terrible wave of drowsiness that you just push away.
You are covered in blood and fish sauce, and a child is now holding you at sword-point.
hurrah the child saved us! also did he just wave the sowrd and kill him cause if so that fucking awesome lol anyway def need to get him some more training so he can become a elite soldier
"I Regret To Inform You The Hall Of Auguries Is Closed!" the boy shouts, for no apparent reason.
You try to reply, "I wasn't – ".
"Dreamtalking is also shut!"
"I'm not interested in-"
"Funerary services are suspended!"
"I'm trying to- "
"PLEASE LEAVE!" – the boy's face is animal panic.
You put your hands up. "For the love of- I'm a brother, please! Let me help you! What happened to the fucking Roost!" For added effect, you pull out your sign of office, which, thank Ranald, wasn't broken – a silver hourglass with purple sand, crystals of the Wind of Death.
The boy's eyes bulge at the time piece. "A brother?!" he says, his voice riding higher in alarm. He drops suddenly to one knee. "Forgive me, your eminence, forgive my indiscretions!".
"Calm, calm, man – my name is Xenophon, and I'm not an eminence. Please stand up."
"With your leave, your E- Sir Xenophon – if that's proper."
lol this whole exchange is really funny really gets across this is just a scared boy trying to get by. Also pretty sure if we had waited another turn or soon the mad priest would have been even more animalstic.
"I'm not a noble either – Xenophon is fine, I have no titles. What's your name?"
"Pelops, if you'd please, and this- "he gestures to his sword "Is Last Rest. Forgive me, I know it's not my place to correct you, I know – but am not sure you are aware, sir – er, sorry – Xenophon – but you are titled."
"I'm sorry?"
"Per Chapter Three, section six, point seven of Black Book. You, milord, as the only sane Brother of Morr in the Twin Cities – I'm just a Shroudknight, you know, a layperson – you're the Raven of the Roost!"
lol poor guy being forced into responsibility after responsibility he the leader of the broother morr in the twin ciites shit bad y'all . at least we got him on his side!
After Pelops has helped you recover from the shock of your unexpected promotion, you manage to drag the full story out of him. Three months ago, the clergy of the Cult of Morr began receiving visions. This is approximately in time to when you began to receive yours, and from Pelops' description, they were substantively similar, albeit less detailed, though you're not sure that not just because the boy wasn't told those specifics. After several months of gradually increasing portents, the higher leadership elected to perform a Great Prophecy, a particular miraculous ritual specified in the holy text the Songs of the Raven. A great magical working, the laws of Tylos required permission from the Senate to perform. This was begrudgingly granted, though with protests from Thunderdome about the so-called "grossly inaccurate quasi-daemonic scrying". These were assuaged by having a representative from Thunderdome attend and verify the safety of the ritual, that being a Master Steward of the Lodge of the Harvest Moon, one Parlenius Patrocline, head of the Bureau of Future Financial Forecasting.
hmmm this makes me hopefully other priest of morr priest reciing vision might show up soon. OOO songs of raven! hope we could get our hands on that book and learn how to do the ritual that be awesome though suspect it buried uner much much rubble now. also buera of future finical planning this is like a godstar city gone wrong a bit I feel like lmao. Anyway at least the leadership did the right thing here! or well tried too
The ritual went badly. Whether this was because of practitioner error or explicit sabotage on the part of Patrocline is unclear. Pelops favors the latter explanation, as do you – Morr is not a god (unlike some others you could name) that smites. Regardless of the mechanism of failure, it resulted in a magical backlash that collapsed the lower catacombs where the working was happening. Patrocline survived, as did about a third of the ritual participants. Unfortunately, the latter had been driven, as you had so personally experienced, homicidally insane. Patrocline, fascinatingly, seemed fine, and had beat a hasty retreat to his Lodge. The six crazed brothers were confined to their chambers with what portion of the Cult remained.
I mean this is blinded by our pov but it very possible that what they saw and the clamsmcitc that the fall of the twin cities is the ritual could not handle to foretold and a mini mini example of it happend cuasing the collaspe of it. hmmmmmm very suspcious of how Patrocline was just fine does lend hand to him being involded with not so savory stuff. also could be faking it and that way he in the lodge.
Then, they did what Pelops in his innocence calls a "strategic retreat" and to you is rank cowardice. You are aware that the Cult does not attract the best and brightest the Twin Cities has to offer. Anyone with an ounce of magical talent is taken by the Lodge, the Flame, or the Brotherhood. Anyone with any money goes out to the colonies or into the civil service. Even for the poor, the army offers better and steadier wages. That tends to live you with the desperate, the idiots, and the bizarre (you would personally place yourself in the second category). Regardless, you thought they were made of sterner stuff than the dismal display you now witness, where they, to a man, abandoned the Cities, leaving the care of a million souls to a child not even formally in the order, who they only promoted to a knight in order to leave him behind. Pelops insists they drew straws, but considering you are the followers of the God of Prophecy, you doubt that was as fair as he insists it was. You understand the fear – both from the visions, and the legal consequences of being party to a magical disaster of that magnitude, and that they had, as an organization, been almost literally decapitated – but – by the Gods!
unrelated but I love how you can really see the differnce in knowledge here and compared to present warhammer among priest showcase how much as fallen. Also booooo priest of morr should be better than this! hope morr rejected them all and took away there power or something. Anyway the fact morr prob one of the best suited to stop this has been depcaiited bassicly make me thinks there some very bad stuff going on and the failure of the ritual was not accident perhaps not sabotge but outside intefrence from those not there.
For Pelops himself, he's an orphan, sixteen "and eight months!" That's eight years below formal adulthood and citizenship, which explains the panic. He is technically a ward of the state, and to be assigned one of the famously unpleasant public homes for wayward children. You have promised not to report him, which, combined with his natural obeisance towards authority, seems to have earned his undying gratitude. He was one of the children the Cult traditionally agreed to raise for payment from the state, something taken up both for recruitment and to flag falling tithes. That had apparently been canceled some years after you left, after some complaints about vice from Temple, so he had been the last Ward of Morr.
He refuses to explain where he got the sword, which he insists you refer to not by the general noun, but by "Last Rest". It appears to be the only thing of value (besides the boy himself), left in the temple. Your wonderful brothers seem to have raided the place in their retreat, leaving a half-stocked library, and an empty treasury. The cells where the Cult formally made their residence has been turned into a makeshift asylum. The cannibal got out when Pelops went in to deliver lunch (which he cooks!) and had to break up a fight. He hadn't even realized Brother Sanguine had gone till he heard the commotion.
damm he young also suprised that in the twin cities it 28 when one consdired a adult and before then there a kid. hmmm vice from the temple...that does not instile confidence in how they were treating them at all to say the least. also bet he got a vision or something from morr giivng him the last rest hence why he loves it. Also we should prob just kill the cannibals they have gone and so have the other brothers it prob be a mercy kill though we should prob invesgiate if we can bring them back to sanity.
In total, what you have gained from your visit to your Cult are three things. First, a title. You are the Raven of the Roost, not merely a priest of Morr, but the priest of Morr within the Twin Cities. This doesn't mean as much as it used to, with no brothers and no parishioners, but does afford you the right to address the Senate, though not for Senators to actually attend, and will allow to effectively secure an appointment with any other religious leader in the city outside of Temple. Second, you have gained a mostly abandoned building and associated graveyard. The lowest level is collapsed, and the level above is mostly prayer rooms (one of which Pelops is sleeping in) and a badly run psychiatric ward. You could live here, you suppose, and it'd be free, but it wouldn't be comfortable (unless you could somehow remove your brothers), and if anyone was trying to find you, it'd be the first place they'd look. Third, you effectively have gained a ward. As a Shroudknight, Pelops has declared it his absolute duty to defend you, despite your protests, and so you now have a child bodyguard. Morr, please give me strength.
despite the dismal state of everything this went great! we are know the leader of the priest of moor raven of the roost! that gve us some prilvges which is cool and bale to talk to more people. Also we got a whole abanded building it a fixer upprer but one I think we can fix! hey a child bodyguard is a child bodyguard you can't complain overall stuff went wll here
Followers are characters willing to assist you on your quest. They offer you particular advantages on each turn, from performing certain acts for you, to making others less risky.
Pelops' Bonus: You can assign Pelops to one Risky act each turn. So chosen, he will allow you to reroll once if you fail on your initial attempt at that Act, as he and Last Rest protect you from harm. He may also be assigned to some Ventures (though not the showing of the Righteous Spear, as he lacks a ticket). Do be aware, however, that he may be affected by the negative effects of a failed Risky act if assigned. Child endangerment – for the cause?
this helps a lot actually since we suck at risky but yah he a child solider and all well tough times we live in we got a city to maybe save prob not still ver helpful to have a boy warrior
In the following days, you attempt to locate some variety of alternate accommodation, leaving Pelops to his ordinary duties of tending to the brothers. You feel a little bad at leaving him to it, but he refuses to allow you to assist, declaring "the Raven is not a servant!" – and you have little desire to nurse your former brothers, so you carry on.
You contract the services of a broker called Eustachius. He has oiled hair and an unctuous smile and a toga so pink it is verging on, but not quite the purple that only the Princeps is entitled to wear. He refers to everything as "a wonderful opportunity for a clever investor like you". You hate him.
The first seventeen places are located in the Cloisters or Circus, and are, without exception, the worst living arrangements you've ever witnessed. You are shown leaking basements, clear closets, and, at one point, just a palanquin, sitting out in someone's yard (which already had one resident!). After your displeasure is made clear, Eustachius misunderstands you in the opposite direction and takes you a variety of hideous manors in the Casbah. After contemplating why anyone would ever conceive of, much less build a drawer that added illusionary aromas to your silverware to "enhance taste profiles", you once again yell at Eustachius a bunch until he finally gets through his well-lacquered head that you want a place where someone might conceivable both want to live in and be able without an ancestral fortune.
The properties that fit that modest description (and only just) apparently number – in all the Twin Cities – three.
The first is a rather pleasant apartment in Elftown. The ordinary residents are out for a short sojourn to Athel Loren, albeit short for Elf-time, meaning a decade. The rent is cheap enough to not need you to have to struggle for money anytime soon, though the place poses some difficulties. Elftown has a curfew- the district is walled, and the gates sealed at 9pm. It will be very difficult to go out from here. Further, the remainder of the building is currently empty, but on inquiring with the doorman, you learn it is rented to a "Mordrin Fellheart" of Karond Kar. You've never met a Dark Elf, but you still can surmise it's a bit of an oddity to rent an entire building for no apparent reason half across the world.
The second is not technically a rental at all. Instead, it is a job position. The Senator for the Casbah, Jehdai Rubus Spania, or more correctly, his wife Suplicia, or even more accurately, their slave Morani, have advertised for an ornamental hermit. You are reasonably sure to get the position, insofar you are willing to give up your dignity as a cleric, which, considering the state of the Cult, is not much in the first place. You will get a fairly pleasant renovated artificial cave with bedroom, sitting-place and illusionary telegraph. You have no actual obligation to be present, merely give evidence of your existence to add mystery to the garden, bar at a particular event in two weeks time, a campaign party Suplicia is having for her husband. There, you are of course to read an obscure, tasteful text, and offer cryptic advice. In exchange, you get room, board, and a small stipend – not too bad, all things considered.
The third is canalboat in the Skavi. It is reasonably inexpensive, though you think you might have to take up some work in about a month or so to cover marina fees. It has the convenience of being locatable anywhere, so that you have no problem traversing the various districts at your leisure. It also has just a lovely, recently redone interior. As for counterpoints, it's terribly small, so you're unable to host or hide anybody, and bad weather would prove more difficult than the average residence to endure.
You could also stay in the Roost, which seems eminently questionable, though free and cavernous or continue staying in your hotel, in which case you'd need to take work this week or the next.
You left the Cities because of politics of a sort and are loathe to return to them. Yet that fact alone speaks to their importance. If you hope to do anything in this place, you must know the players on the board. You purchase every newspaper and pamphlet available to you and set to work.
The Twin Cities sit at the heart of a modest empire, rule over which is divided between an institution and a man. The prior, the Senate, governs internal affairs - taxation, infrastructure, social policy. The latter, the Princeps Suttar, deals with that external – the army and foreign policy. Both are elected, albeit in alternating years, and for this year, the Senate. It must also be noted that the Princeps may usurp the powers of the Senate in a time of emergency, given if a majority of attending Senators declare such. This power has been used only once, under the Princeps Aulas during a war with Khemri three decades back.
modest empire hmph think this is pov perspective at work and compared to the empire all around them sure it gloruious compared to anything in the modern day. Despite all the flaws this does not seem too bad? also mega rome vibes here lol
Elections are based on universal male suffrage for citizens. That is, any man over the age of twenty-five (though in a curiosity, there is technically no rule against electing a woman to office), who either owns property within either of the Twin Cities or is the direct descendant of one who did. You, therefore, having the vote, but only because of your parents, and your children, if they were to ever exist, would not. Each of the five districts of Kavzar and Tylos elect a single member each, along with Pleroma the House of Tyleus. Further, the Senate upon election appoints a special non-voting thirteenth member that represents the imperium outside the City, who must be a non-citizen.
The Princeps has built his career from steady victories against the barbarians in Armoria and Talia, defeating various tribes, taking them into slavery and opening their lands for colonization. Various articles warn of rising tensions with the Elven colonies lead by Tor Alessi and the furthest branch of the Karaz Ankor in Karak Izor. As the War of the Beard has raged, and Elvish and Dwarven power waned, the Princeps has taking advantage by conquering their wealthy, weak client states. A risky strategy, but as long the siege of Athel Maraya by the Fivefold Throng continues, and the Princeps stays attacking humans, there is little risk of immediate escalation.
wonder what geogrpahic region the barbarians in Armoria and Talia are from? prob border princes and estatlita maybe? Also wow forogt but yah one of the greatest war in world history is going on right now and looks like both sides are not happy with them conquering weak clinet states ver risy stragtey.
Within the Twin Cities, his Grace is well-liked among the populace for the wealth he has created and glory he's won. He is personable, known for delivering news of the loss of his officers to their families directly. He, at least officially, appears to take little to no role in domestic politics beyond his continued building of the Tower. All the Princeps prior have added to it, as is their right, though they are legally required to rely on personal wealth to do it. This affords them a certain secrecy in the nature of their projects, tending to be revealed only at the end of term what glorious art or magical wonder has been created, though they have been great; the great shrine to Myrmidia Perfecta and the illusory telegraph system were both the projects of past Princeps. The High Lord Suttar is however notable in just how much money he appears to be putting into this pet project, and the degree of confidentiality surrounding it – not a leak in all the papers you can find.
the tower wish he stoped building it and more telagrpa stuff! if I was a betting man I'd bet the secret project is a very special bell to replace and put on the one at the top of the tower that I am sure will be fine : V. Other than tht he seems pretty cool
The Senate is comparatively fractious. It is divided into two great factions, the Reds and the Whites. The Reds were purged under Princeps Aulus during the last emergency, and have only recently regained their strength, hence the current Senate is dominated by the Whites. Their positions (and their opinions of their opponents) are best understood in their own words.
Article: WHAT WE BELIEVE
We populares or "Reds" have been subject to the most unbelievable calumnies from all sides, as the corrupt try to hold onto their gilded thrones in the face of the people's power. To ensure that every citizen is aware of our program, and not deluded by the inane mutterings of the optimates, we declare forthwith the following principles, which none can deny are the heart and soul of our every political act. 1. Work for Honest Pay
Every citizen of our fair cities must be able for a day's labour to put food on the table for him and his. To that end – a ban on the use of slaves within the Twin Cities. No longer shall barbarians take Tylosian jobs. Further, restoration of the grain dole, as during the time of the Princeps Aulus – free bread to every citizen, each and every day! 2. Land to the Solider
No longer shall the fatuous, slobbering officer class benefit against the common solider. We commend the Princeps in his humanity, but he must go further! No longer should veterans receive merely a "land certificate" that they can sell for pennies to a speculator. No! A return to direct land grants for all soldiers! If that means further war, so be it! The barbarian shall not prosper at the cost of the common man! 3. No Special Privileges to Wizards
No longer shall an accident of birth, some ineffable connexion to a Daemon-realm, mean glory and accolades. The Lodge, the Brotherhood, and the Flame must be taxed, and all the temples of all the Gods too. Why should they sit in floating palaces, while those below stumble? 4. An End to Alien Influences
We dare not name names, but we observe certain connexions with many in the Senate to the foreign courts of the Elder Races. We do not mean of course, our most loyal Sons of Skavor, who's antipathy to the hidebound and jealous nature of the Karaz Ankor is well known, nor our loyal Elf citizens. But it has been clear for some time as has been as if an occult hand was operating our politics, and we demand to reveal it, and see it be destroyed!
The truth will set you free. See our honest principles and vote Red!
what is the white postions? further action needed for them?
anyway reds are megablusred here one hand yah! work for honesty pay let people have food, giving land to soldiers and not having massive esates form. oh no imperalism! on no xenophobia! on no! anti wizard stuff.
At the end of the week, you travel to the Glimmering Realm. The way down is by boat, through a series of ever-descending canal locks. The crowds are such you're forced to share your vessel, which is ordinarily meant for just two, you and the captain. Your co-passenger happens to be dwarf, though clearly not a Skavorite. He lacks the geometric "tattoos" – really, lines of embedded gemstones - that the local dwarves favored and seemed to be in some way essential to their curious magic. No, your fellow visitor's skin is unmarred, what little you can see, for he is wrapped in a thick black robe that seems to disguise a sword on his hip that glimmers out of the corner of your eye with some unfamiliar magic. He does not speak, even in greeting, and you do not engage him.
the glimmering realm!!! glittering realmver very siialr if I was a betting name there be a connection of some kind. Also hey a dwarf! he seems neat also what sword! we got a cult of gazul here hopefully we could tea up with them or something. though I wouldn't talk to them iether.
The captain of your vessel, as is required by custom and law, is a Son of Skavor. You take your opportunity to study him. He is dressed, as most of his people, in a short tunic and leggings, with a thick cream cloak over one shoulder, fastened with a silver-and-obsidian pin. Embroidered on all his clothes are what one might at first take to be sequins, but are in fact, tiny gemstones – rubies and sapphires and topazes. What visible skin you see is decorated similarly – tiny red beryls form a strange shape each cheek: a triangle with a bottom that extends past its vertices, above which is a five-pointed (but uneven) star. His hands are gloved, but you think his fingertips are stone. He directs the ship through Dwarven sorcery. At the head of each of the boats is a gold mounting, in which he places a quarterstaff taller than his head, made of pure marble. The canal is cut thinly enough that edges of the quarterstaff touch both walls. Then, with but a gesture (a point forward), the edges of the pole meld into the wall, and then the staff lurches forward, dragging the boat along behind. Later and deeper into the cavern, when the walls widened, the Son of Skavor removed the pole, but then tapped one end to the wall. With another gesture – a come hither – he drew back the staff, with the stone of the wall following, so that it was now thrice its length. He then dipped it into the water, where it must have touched the bottom of the river you were progressing down, where it again began to drag forth – though with perfect smoothness – forward once more. In all of this, he said nothing. Instead, he hummed in a way difficult to describe; part physical, part magical – a single, deep, unsettling note, joined in endless, echoing chorus by all his brothers and sisters in front and behind.
okay some fanastic worldbuilding here going on with the son of skavor the style of there people differnce in there lore, the etravgenve of it, how wealthy the are and all the gem stuff going on in his body fusion of rock and flesh. also the dwarven soccery is super cool here very cool intresnting stuff I never seen before. Also I love how they littealy have magic music that fucking awesome
You are shocked by the size of the chamber called the Glimmering Realm. It was the size of an entire district above, and probably large enough to host most of the Cities standing shoulder to shoulder. It is also almost unspeakably beautiful. The all the walls and ceiling were covered in a rainbow of crystal, the smallest the size of a horse. Hysh-lamps of polished brass had been hung throughout the room, making the gems glitter and spark, rendering the roof a glorious kaleidoscope, which reflected in the great lake below, then back from the crystals above, and below once more… The total effect was rather like standing in a room composed entirely of rose windows, all perfectly backlit by a glorious summer sun.
wow the home and most holy place of the son of skavors fanasticing stuff. also hysh lamps! sould help keep out bad stuff really paint a wonderufl descriton.
Scattered throughout the great lake were small islets, on which smaller crystals grew. Carved into these stones were little niches, lit by wax candles, in which petrified dwarves stood, each with their names carved above them. Every one, without exception, rested straight and tall, with the same inscrutable almost-grin on their faces, as if they were awaiting some pleasant surprise. Each island held a separate clan, the living members of which lavished with grave goods. Never have you seen such a quality of precious metals and stones – weapons and jewelry and tools – each masterfully made and placed caringly by its eternal caretaker.
big big theme on cyrstals with everything in the son of the skavors big theme big in contrast to the dwarves leaving it bad and glittering realm and glimmering realm...hmmm skavor making a mimciry of one almost. Also this is so beaitufl too also see the cost of the magic shows once again peterfaction. Yah the son of skavor are not to be messed around with... looks like they don't think they will be pertiryfied foeever.
At the very centre of the room was what appeared to be an endless pit, lined with a golden-dam wall, on which runes were written in diamond that you could not read, though they hurt to Look upon. Above the pit, hung on a gromril chain was what you would best describe as a throne of silver steel. Sitting on that throne was the Dwarf you had only seen in history books – Skavor the Great! The True Ancestor sat frozen eternal on his seat, turned to a stone so pale it seemed almost translucent. His eyes were shut, his face beatifically calm, his beard neatly braided, flowing down just past his knees. In his hands, he cradled a twelve-sided golden object, almost like a game die that hummed so loud with latent magical power it nearly drowned out the noise of anything else in the room.
runes! okay son of skavors still have run though def different from thungi one most likely and gromril chain too! also wow it himself the man the myth the legend....hmmm wonder what that golden object is about
The boats circled the pit. Your fellow passenger finally issues a grunt of interest and fixes his eyes on Skavor. Your captain, once he secures the boat by turning the mounting and resecuring the bargepole, then magically binding that to the lake floor, does the same. You quietly sip your provided mead (the promised refreshment) and wait for the service to begin. No less than a quarter hour later (during which not once has your fellow passenger, nor the captain broken their twin stares), horns ring out, as appearing out of the pit itself on a spike of raised earth that merges at his hip is Fafnir Fogfather, Grand Master of the Sons of Skavor.
"Remember his wisdom and his courage! Remember how he told his family the future to come and watched as they failed to listen! Remember how he made ready to save his people against the daemonic horde! Remember how he went down to the deep earth and learned to make his flesh one with the world!"
hmmm wonder how much of this is true that he warned them of the chaos invasion and in his desperation came up with the magic the sons of skavor know use. but I suspect they thought the cost was too great
At that, the whole cavern rumbles as Sonsm pulling off gloves and boots, dip their petrified extremities into the water and yank with all their occult power to connect themselves to the stone.
"Remember how he taught his children, and how his family ignored his learning! Remember how that saved them when the Great Wall fell! Remember how he was punished with exile, for the crime of living!"
You think you hear you co-passenger scoff. The rumbling quiets. Fifty boats have docked at the great golden dam around the pit, and a hundred elderly dwarves are helped off, each petrified up to their neck. Fafnir, in perfect silence, rises, bows deeply before the petrified Skavor, and then takes the artifact from his unmoving hands.
in a shocking twist the cult of gazul and karak ankor dwarf disagrees : V though I think there def is more to the story here. hmm petrifed up to there neck think that this isn't a human sacifired though it still kind of his and a honorable send off with there ancesotr
"KHAZUKAN KAZAKIT-HA!" Fafnir screams, echoed by every dwarf in the chamber.
There is nothing – and then a deep, dark crashing from the pit, like the earth itself screaming in pain. It gets louder and louder, the sound of stone being ripped asunder. You see the dwarves encircled are rapidly petrifying, the stone rising up, past their chins and mouths and eyes.
You turn, as you hear your co-passenger has unsheathed he sword. He has risen up behind the captain, as if ready to attack him. He only just pauses when he notices you see.
look out the dwaves are on the war path is the meaning of this and uh well that worrying to say the least.hmmm perhaps they are manipualting deep magic and abusing it in some way for there own ends? also wtf man the cult of gazul person is pissed off is he trying to stop the ritual perhaps?
Just then, there is sudden, deafening CRACK! and then a piercing whine as a huge plume of blue divine flame blasts out of the hole. The heat and steam blasts great waves across the lake, knocking everyone back, you and the captain and the other dwarf collapsing in a crazy pile of limbs; the sword falls into the lake, unnoticed.
You just rise to see Fafnir unfurl the great barrier of crystal he drew from the roof to protect himself and Skavor. Everything below his hips has been vaporized – drops of hot magma drip from his body where blood might drip from a man. The petrifying dwarves surrounding the pit have been melted into a great mass of black obsidian glass. Your captain is missing his fingers, them having shattered off with the force of the great explosion.
hmm perhaps this is a way to keep there powers or gain more keep the bject alive keep skavor alive? I don't know I got so many questions as to what all this mean
When you return to your inn room much later and empty your pockets, you find a small metal card. On one side is carved a Dwarven Rune – a square without a bottom side, topped with two triangles, and then a symbol that might be a plant or a fountain. On the other is an address in the Shambles. You look at it and think.
bruh it the gazul dwarf!! def we should go visit them I want to make firends with the dwarf he seems like a cool guy also yah make sense that the cult of gazul is involded here both because of the hersey of the skavor and cause they prob know what going dow too
Your final occasion for the week is your attendance at the Righteous Spear. You mention this offhand to Pelops, who declares immediately that you should wear your "formal regalia". You have no idea what this means till he runs back from some ancient storeroom and presents a costume you're not sure any priest has worn in a century – a silver crown with black roses done in obsidian, and then a thick cloak of thousand of ravens' feathers. You must make a choice – if you wear this, you will unmistakably be The Priest of Morr. That has the benefit of status, but the disadvantage of recognizability. You could also simply dress generically formally, which would make you effectively anonymous, for better or for worse.
This is incredibly evocative but my reading comprehension might be off cause I have no idea what actually happened in the Glittering Realm. Can anyone help me parse what was happening?
Armoria is southern Bretonnia, up to approximately to the River Morceaux between the "modern" duchies of Bordeleaux and Aquitaine. There are Elven colonies scattered throughout it, mostly along the aforementioned Morceaux, the River Brienne, and Athel Loren, while Tylos-Kavzar controls the inland plains. Talia is indeed Estalia, which has been mostly conquered by the Twin Cities, save for the Elven colony of Tor Karyndis. Tilia (Tilea) is also part of the imperium; here, the Elven colonies of the region, most notably Tolaire and Thantis Tor broke off from Ulthuan and joined Tylos-Kavzar in protest of the War of the Beard, just as the Dwarves of the Middle Mountains did against the Karaz Ankor. The Border Princes remains under mostly Dwarven domination, though there are some minor Tylosian colonies and some of the Princeps' conquering activites are happening there too.
The Whites, as far as Xenophon is aware, don't actually seem to have much of a positive program. They've been in power thirty-odd years now basically uncontested until recently, so they've pretty much managed to implement whatever they wanted, leaving them (already conservative) basically totally satisfied with the status quo. They also run a pretty massive patronage network, so as long as the dough keeps flowing a good percentage of their voters are happy, even if there's not anything new. Their positions will probably change as Reds pressure them more, but so far, they've run almost exclusively a negative campaign rather than risk taking a position and present a proper angle for their opponents to attack.
Your ability to conjure a mood and a vibe through your narrative are immaculate, and I particularly appreciate the way you have woven what is normally fairly normal medieval factional politics within a city seamlessly into your vision of the Twin Cities. I am very glad a friend basically shook everyone he could get a hold of and said "GO! READ THIS! IT IS EXCELLENT!" because it turns out that yes, this is in fact highly evocative writing that's a joy to read.
This is incredibly evocative but my reading comprehension might be off cause I have no idea what actually happened in the Glittering Realm. Can anyone help me parse what was happening?
well I am still all told a little confused about and our pov chac is seeing for all intents a complety forgien ritual he has little knowledge of so it make sense we are confused too but I'll try my best
so some dwarven elders who are nearly pettriifed go up to skavor throne. They are able to still move around(they need help from other dwarves though) they are able to do this cause the son of skavors are able to manipulate stone since skavor has done something that allowed his son to meld flesh and stone together. Then the grandmaster start some ritualized ritual calling upon vengance and all that for the wrong done upon skavor his family and a some biased history. He also some magical object that skavor seems to have created that he used in the ritual. The ritual then cause a massive flame to rise up from deep deep in the earth since skavor throne is over the throne I think. A big explosion happens too that pushes everyone back, all the elder nearly pertifed dwarves gets melted away and grandmaster does the classic dwarf thing of vengance and all that.
@Graf Tzarogy is this roughly what our pov chac knowledge and perspective what happened/ order of events?
intrensting very intresnting they acted like it was normal but guess it was not! or maybe it was not the intent skavor had with the object but the sons of skavor have changed the ritual somewhat...so many quetions
hmmmm def could see it being this it and there whole vengenace thing calling about, but this seems very ritualized and has happened before hmmm perhaps the priest of gazul being there made the differnce? and yah the dwarven underworld is reportldy undernearth the earth hmmm yah def u are on to something here
Exactly so, with just two extra details. First, all the Sons of Skavor not just the elders seemed to join in the ritual when they connected their bodies to the earth, though the elders seemed to play a fundamental role - none of the other Sons seemed to petrify during the ceremony itself, and definitely not at anywhere near the same rate. Second, the flame and explosion was predicated with a great noise from the pit, specifically:
