When Heroes Die

She invested so much confidence into Songbird's schemes that she made no attempt to cut Pascal off. It was a mark of weakness that she would need to grow out of with time if she intended to brush shoulders with those who held power.

Oh, yes. My favorite part of this arc; Pascal scheming in exactly the way Taylor keeps being warned isn't heroic/angelic... but where Taylor schemes to help everyone, Pascal schemes to hurt a segment of people. Where Taylor listens to the angels, Pascal put his words in their mouths. Where Taylor correctly assessed Pascal and gave him clear warning - and with it another pointed chance for Redemption - Pascal inaccurately assessed Taylor and kept intending to deceive and betray her and their plans.

And lo did Pascal betray, and lo did Taylor and those loyal to her call him out... and lo did his actions and words lose him his Name.

And lo did Taylor smite the Nameless betrayer in front of everyone, after she's already performed a major miracle.

Compassionate, yes, this woman who ran an orphanage in a flooded post-Leviathan town... but still the woman who shot Coil. Redemption is offered... but not infinite times.
 
Concord 5.11
"One makes more appreciable gains through the failures of their enemies than through the successes of their allies."
— Dread Empress Malicia


"Y'should stop pacing so we can start, Taylor."

"Found a place for me yet?" I reached the panelled wall of the room, then turned and faced the seated redhead as I continued to pace.

"S'pose you're not letting that go."

"Definitely."

"You're gonna be up here whenever you're working," she huffed.

"Working and living are different. Yvie would feel uncomfortable. It's why she is staying with Roland back in the city."

"It is only appropriate for the captain to have quarters of her own," Esme added from her table at the far end of the room.

I came to a stop behind Songbird at an artist's rendition of a priest I didn't recognize crowning one of the princes, then turned once again.

"Fine. I'll find somewhere for you."

"Good."

"You should stop procrastinating," Esme chastised.

"Speaking of Roland," I ignored her good advice, "I know he's spent a lot of money helping out. I'm sure the House of Light has some old magical artefacts confiscated and stored away somewhere. They're probably accumulating dust and not doing much else. He'd put them to better use."

Esme gave me a flat stare from the side.

"I'll look into it. M'sure he'd appreciate the sentiment. Now, time's wasting, Taylor. Lotsa people outside the door."

"You really want me to leave the Holy Society alone?" I sighed.

"Y'know who they are. Means that you can control what they know."

She raised her crystal wineglass off the table surface and gave me a salute with it, then took a small sip of the liquid within.

"Not if we give them positions of authority. They're spies!" I stopped pacing.

"They're also born nobles who have the skills that you need. 'Sides, s'not as bad as you think."

"Why?"

"They gave up their position in their family to serve the House of Light."

"They still have prior loyalties."

"Family ashore gives crew hope when faced with the darkest of storms. A split crew only matters when there is more than one captain aboard."

"Think about what it means," Songbird argued.

I stopped pacing and considered Songbird's words. The Holy Society was not the same as Holies, although there was some overlap between both groups. It was an informal organization of former nobles within the House of Light who had — for one reason or another — renounced their noble title and joined the House of Light. Their members had no direct influence on official church policy unless they were also a member of the Holies. This was true even before I took over.

But… They had other problems.

They had existing loyalties to their families. I didn't expect people to stop caring about their families because they joined the House of Light, but those families had so much power that it made matters complicated. Furthermore, Songbird had brought it to my attention that some of them served as informants to the nobility. Even though I wasn't trying to keep my goals secret, I still didn't like the idea of keeping somebody who was loyal to someone else so close to me. The idea of giving them a position of leadership was even worse.

There was more to it than that.

Some of them left their families due to bad blood. Others out of ambition. They were too low on the family totem pole and felt they could achieve more in the House of Light. A smattering of them joined the House of Light because they were genuinely faithful.

It left me conflicted when taken as a whole.

"Fine," I sighed.

"Recall, Taylor, that the remaining candidates who are also members of the Holy Society showed themselves to be exemplary in the prior three stages of interviews. All of them have surpassed your expectations."

"Come sit down," Songbird pointed to the chair beside her.

I did as much.

Songbird stood up, dusted down her ankle length white dress, and proceeded to open the door.

The first of my potential advisors strolled in.

With close-cropped silver hair, an angular face and wily features, Brother Simon of Gorgeault looked like an aged fox. For someone who I guessed was in his early sixties, time had been kind to him. He was the leader of the Holy Society, and it was certain that he would share what he learned of me with friends of his among the nobility.

On the other hand… he dreamed of peace, and he was certain to be competent.

"Your presence brightens the house, Chosen," the man sketched a bow.

"Morning."

"Have you come to a decision regarding my eligibility for an advisory position?"

There were a few people who had excelled to a similar degree after the third round of interviews. I'd decided to take the top three in each category and spring their first actual major problem on them. All of them were talented enough that I would be happy with any of them advising me. I was doing the equivalent of dropping a natural disaster on top of them and seeing how they would handle it.

The one who performed best would be my final candidate.

"This is the rough draft of my planned hierarchy for the House of Light," I pointed towards a pile of papers. "I want your opinion on it."

Songbird picked it up and handed it to the man, then returned to her chair.

There were a tense few moments as he flicked through from one page to another.

"I foresee several issues with your proposal," he began.

"Go on," the tap of my boot against the cold stone floor rang out my impatience.

"The first is the conflation between positions of leadership and representatives for voting on overall House of Light mandate. Before I explain how I think you should resolve this, could you shed light on your intentions?"

I was about to retort that this was his chance to show what he could do and not his chance to interview me, but chose to bite back the words. Whoever ended up advising me would need to understand my intentions if they were to offer good advice. I needed to share my thoughts, even if I was predisposed to dislike the man due to his existing loyalties.

"I have the final word on all major decisions, but the day to day running of the House of Light is managed in each principality by the representatives. There are two representatives to create the opportunity for different perspectives from within the same principality to clash with each other. The representatives are elected from among the clergy in the capital city of each Principality."

It would have been better to elect them from across the entire principality, but it was also not feasible to do. The people involved in the voting process would need a way to recognize the candidates, and there wasn't an easy way to do that across such a wide area. The capitals had the most influence, which made them the best compromise.

I continued to lay out my reasoning. Brother Simon listened, his focus never wavering as I spoke.

It was a while before I finished talking, and my tongue was drier than a desert near the end.

"My first recommendation would be to issue a series of edicts declaring certain matters to be sacrosanct and beyond the authority of the elected representatives."

"Example?"

"The representatives shouldn't be permitted to address the Highest Assembly. Only you should maintain that right, or an appointed person that you trust to speak in your place. This would forestall them from using their ability to address the Highest Assembly as a tool to underwrite your own authority."

It was a good point, but it was one that I had considered myself. I wanted to see if he brought anything new to the table. The problem with the idea was that implementing it would require a motion to be passed by the Highest Assembly that recognized me as the sole priest with the authority to approach them. There was nothing stopping them from approaching the Highest Assembly without my permission, unless the Highest Assembly itself acknowledged my authority.

I didn't want to make rules that I couldn't enforce.

"Anything else?"

"The representatives should be invested with the authority to appoint their own hierarchies within each Principality. The economy, politics, and culture of the Lycaonese principalities differs greatly from that of the Arlesite principalities. It would be folly to apply the same system to both regions. Limitations should be placed on how much power they could bestow upon others, but a leader needs to be able to delegate responsibility to others, and you cannot expect to govern the entire House of Light on your own."

I wasn't sure that I liked this idea. I'd already given representatives the ability to appoint a fixed selection of helpers into defined positions of authority. The representatives were tasked with the leadership of the House of Light within their own principality, but could not change the official policies without voting on them together at the annual meeting. Collecting taxes, ordering the construction of new infrastructure within budget constraints, maintaining existing infrastructure, trade negotiations, and similar duties all fell within the purview of the representatives and their allocated staff.

Any action which would place a significant strain on the House of Light's coffers would require my approval first. This included ambitious civic projects, but was not limited to them. Large scale projects would remain within my purview for a while. The representatives were also incapable of adjusting taxation rates without making an appeal, or overturning any bans that I theoretically imposed on trading with unapproved outside factions.

The amount of minutiae involved in defining exactly who could do what was dizzying, and I knew that I needed help to look over it all.

"How about the budget?"

"I applied for the position of political advisor and not the position of financial advisor," he replied, amused.

"Fair."

"However, there is some criticism with regard to politics that intersects with financing which I believe that you need to be aware of," he licked his lips then continued. "You have assigned representatives with numerous duties, but few privileges."

"And you think this is a mistake," I mused.

"Consider for a moment that the House of Light has thousands of priests counted among its ranks, but you are the only person who could make a credible claim at being a saint. I have not taken any oaths, and I am not alone in this. While the Servants of the Heavens should not concern themselves with the sentiments of mundane powers, and only that their acts are just in the eyes of Above, I fear that many do not."

"Leadership is a responsibility, not a prize to be won."

"The sentiment is shared, but the practical tarnishes my perspective. It is better for you to account for the nature of our fellow priests than to ignore it. I am not expecting for the rewards for the faithful to be as bountiful as they were under the tenure of the Holies. However, many among the priesthood will not serve in a position of authority if there is no additional benefit in doing so. You could enforce your dictates with force should you choose to act like a tyrant — indeed, I suspect that it may be the wiser course and the one I would likely follow — but it is laudable that you approach the challenge with more moderate intentions first."

"The House of Light does not exist as an institution for the purpose of personal enrichment."

"If you continue to hold others to the same standards that you set for yourself, Chosen, then there will not be a House of Light, only a House of One."

You might be right about that, but it doesn't mean that I have to like it.

"Your idea?"

"Incentives can come in many forms. I recommend considering the matter from at least two different approaches. The first would be setting aside a small portion of the overall budget for investing into indulgent expenditures. While the percentage of the House of Light's total revenue it would account for would be small, the absolute value of it would be substantial. The second incentive would be to afford the leaders more privileges."

"So you're saying that I should just allow them access to a not insignificant amount of money for personal use?"

"That would be one possible interpretation of my suggestion," Brother Simon sucked at a loose tooth before continuing. "You could also set aside the fund as a significant lump sum. The representatives would then vote on who is able to spend that sum once a year during the annual gathering. This would divert their attention towards fighting among themselves over a prize that has already been written off, rather than on attempting to undermine your authority."

"Only the southern principalities would ever win."

"I doubt that the north would care for it at all," he shrugged. "If you intend for a more fair distribution of this fund, then you could cycle it between principalities on a twenty-four-year cycle, or divide it equally every year."

Is there any benefit to doing this at all? This just seems like a way to sow strife.

"I'll think about it."

"Next, I suggest reducing the number of representatives per principality from two to one. Having only a single leader would increase the efficiency of the system by preventing any potential disagreements at the highest level of authority."

It isn't the highest level of authority. I am, and I can step in if squabbles ever boil over.

"You think that outweighs the benefits of having different perspectives?"

"There is nothing preventing those perspectives from being retained by insisting that the leader of each principality has advisors representing the interests of their people."

"The advisors aren't a direct challenge to their position of leadership, though."

Is he right, or would more representatives be better? It would force all decisions to go through a coalition, which while requiring more work would be less prone to corruption.

"You should consider appointing the leaders of each Principality yourself, rather than requiring the priests of each capital city to elect them. The amount of paperwork organizing a vote like this would create is not insignificant, even when restricting the elections to occurring only once a decade and without insisting that every priest votes."

I was hoping that Cordelia's wizards managed to reverse engineer scrying. It would be a long time before it became commonplace, but having access to rapid communication would open the doors to proper voting, among other things.

"They can still make a more informed decision than I can."

"Appointing them yourself would grant you a tighter degree of control. Those who were appointed would feel some measure of debt towards you, be less likely to turn on you, and have a higher chance of meeting whatever personal criteria you have for them."

"That's true."

Is it worth it? I… don't think so. Giving the priests the opportunity to vote on their leaders gives them the illusion of control. It doesn't matter if they aren't able to pass anything I disapprove of, if they can come to agreement on less pivotal matters of governance. Besides, I can step in if it becomes necessary. I'm more likely to make a bad choice when selecting leaders as well, because there is no way for me to spend enough time around all of them to learn who should be in charge.

"You must have dedicated an extensive amount of time towards outlining the process of removing representatives, considering how detailed it is. Your checks and balances in the form of both the inquisition, yourself and rival candidates are… adequate. However, the lack of a procedure to appoint another leader to your own position is an oversight which it is imperative that you correct."

"There's a reason for that."

Brother Simons gave me a flat look.

"There will come times when you need to travel, or are otherwise indisposed, and another individual will be required to fill your shoes. This would remain true even if you were immortal."

"Okay."

Brother Simon continued to criticize my work for another half hour. I was lukewarm on many of his proposals. He had a heavy focus on making it easy for the representatives to undertake the duties that I wanted them to perform, while making it challenging for them to do anything else. He often suggested cutting away complications in governance, while he suggested adding complications to the voting process. Systems designed to force representatives to fight among each other. It reminded me of what I had read of the Highest Assembly. The intention was to curtail the power of the representatives rather than the First Prince, while still giving them scraps to fight over. I found it distasteful. It was a solution that was distinctly Proceran in nature. I could see where Simon was coming from, but that that didn't mean that I appreciated it.

At last, it appeared he was reaching the end of his lengthy speech.

"My final recommendation is that you dismantle the Holy Society for the same reasons that you broke apart the Holies. You should then establish an official position within your hierarchy for facilitating the same channels of communications as the Holy Society, absent of the cloak and dagger theatrics that it presently operates under."

I stiffened. That wasn't disbanding the Holy Society so much as it was acknowledging that it existed and giving it my blessing.

He only phrased it that way to make it more palatable to me. I'm sure of it.

"A liaison between the House of Light and the nobility?"

"It is a role that you have overlooked during this selection process, and it is the one that I would much rather apply for should the position exist. I would like to serve as an intermediary between you and the First Prince."

"You applied for the position of political advisor," I tapped my fingers on the cool, smooth table surface in irritation, matching the rhythm to the bacon crackle of rain outside.

"I did so with the intention of using the application process as an opportunity to take the measure of one who would claim to be our leader."

Really?

"What have you found?" my fingers stilled, and my eyes narrowed on the man.

"You are unschooled in matters of politics, but strive to amend that deficiency. You are idealistic and wish to build a House of Light that is both more involved in people's lives, but also less entangled with the games of the nobility. I believe that you will serve as an adequate leader, but will make many mistakes as you acclimatize to the role. You are a true Servant of the Heavens, but expect too much of everyone else."

Brother Simon chose every word with care. It felt as if I was watching someone navigate a field of landmines, rather than observing a man speak. I suspected that there was plenty he was holding off on sharing his thoughts about.

"I see."

"I withdraw my request to serve as your political advisor. When you decide that you require an emissary between yourself and the First Prince, then you can consider this my formal application. I bid you good day, Chosen."

I feel like him withdrawing from this isn't a great start.

The man bowed then turned, before departing from the room.

"Thoughts?" I turned to the others.

"Brother Simon believes that you trust the Gods more than you trust people and considers the attitude to be distasteful," Esme stated.

"Really?"

"Indeed. I posit that you remind him of a former lover in that regard."

"Sister Dominique," Songbird piped in after rustling around in her dossier on the man and holding a crumpled page my way. "The two of them fell out at some point. Prob'ly because of that."

"The man can dislike me but still do a good job. Do you think his advice was offered in good faith?"

"Brother Simon is sincere when he speaks of his conviction that the House of Light should serve the Gods. However, Brother Simon is loyal to the nobility above the church and thus has cause to undermine your authority. I suggest that you remain cautious around him."

"Brother Simon holds you in high regard. He's conflicted because you remind him of his girlfriend before they broke up. Some of his biases shone through because of that. He was using this as an excuse to say things he would've wanted to say to her at the time, since they were tangentially relevant to your proposals. Y'should consider his advice," Songbird grinned at Esme.

"Why does it not surprise me that Taylor's pet snake suggests making her bed in a nest of vipers," Esme scowled.

"S'pose it's only fitting that our token dunce-"

"I will consider what he said, along with the advice of every other candidate today," I interjected.

The two of them finalized their notes. Esme glared at Songbird while she gave her appraisal of Simon. Songbird hummed a merry tune.

It was only a few moments before the next candidate was called in.

The process was slow, but we gradually made our way through all the applications. They were each presented with the same set of proposals — I didn't make adjustments based off of previous advice, as it would be unfair — and I got a glimpse of the kind of advice that each of them would give.

The criticism of my proposed hierarchy was the harshest, but adjusting my plans to account for it would require by far the least amount of effort. It was when the first person applying for the position of financial advisor started to tear into my ideas that I at last acknowledged just how much I would need to delegate if I wanted to succeed.

There was no easy or fast way to manage it all by myself.

Songbird had left by that point to handle other important correspondence.

Esme tried to remain seated straight, but every so often her head would droop, and her jet black hair would slip over her face. She looked as exhausted as I felt.

"Insisting that every church maintains a margin of safety is idiotic," sister Jade complained.

"I'm trying to-"

"I don't care what you're trying to do, and I'm not going to be nice about telling you this. If I let you think that you're in any way qualified to spend the House of Light's money with proposals this absurd, then we'll run out of coins before the year is out."

Her sapphire eyes bored holes into my robes.

"What do you suggest?"

Sister Jade had been one of the archivists in the Starlit Cloister. Her knowledge of finances was mostly academic and had been established over time from handling the older records when they were filed away. Despite lacking a noble upbringing, she still excelled in the interview process.

"Having an emergency reserve set aside is a good idea, but it should be maintained by whomever you appoint as leader of each principality and not the individual churches."

"Why?"

"Most of our lands and holdings can sustain themselves. They don't require outside funding to function and when they do, it's in times of emergency. Famines, plagues, earthquakes, wars, and the like. Having money on hand won't do anything when the world around them is falling into one of the many hells. It's likely that the coin would just go missing instead. The individual churches can petition for relief in times of trouble instead of sustaining a fund themselves."

"What about the risk of funds being misused?"

"It's easier for you to scrutinize the work of a single person responsible for managing the finances in each Principality than it is to observe every House of Light. It also costs less and involves less busywork, which would help save on the final budget."

"It's still a single point of failure."

"You can create a contingency for that contingency if you like, but excess preparation would be a form of stupidity of its own."

"What else do you disapprove of?"

"Your inquisition is a good idea, however it will take time for them to learn the necessary skills for proper investigative work. You need to organize the House of Light such that their burden is minimized. You cannot afford for them to always be gallivanting across the entirety of Procer if you want them to be effective. I suggest that they perform routine visits at each appointed leader, then randomized visits throughout the decade. There is also the-"

"In terms of budgeting," I raised my hand and interrupted.

She raised a wrinkled hand, pushed back her greying blonde hair, and gave me another glare.

"You seem to be under the misapprehension that we are able to consistently tax all church holdings. The Starlit Cloister only contains records for Salia itself. There are many places that cannot be taxed for one reason or another. This could be because they are too small and too far away for it to be cost-effective, but there are other reasons. Smaller agricultural holdings under our purview produce enough to sustain themselves, but little more. Some of our lands also have income that varies dramatically from year to year based on elements outside our control and will be taxable in some years but not during others. The church owns no land in the Lycaonese territories and are not allowed to collect taxes there either. Do you understand the point that I am trying to make?"

I already accounted for the Lycaonese. I acknowledged that they have to pay rent to the princes, and it wouldn't be sensible for us to treat them the same as anywhere further south. It's on page fifteen of my proposal. Agriculture is on page twenty-two. It makes provisions for seasonal changes and dramatic rises and falls in crop yields. But sure, I understand the point, even if you didn't read as carefully as you should have.

"I do."

"It is still possible for us to estimate how much it would cost to provide aid to those holdings in the event of a disaster, but expecting reliable income from them is utter idiocy. The sheer quantity of excess work it would generate is unjustifiable and would cost the House of Light more than it would be worth to tax them. Furthermore, any holdings which are taxed should receive some benefit as a result. The purpose of a tax is to provide services to the people you are taxing. If you are not providing them with any services, they will revolt, and they would have every right to."

"Who should we tax and why?"

Sister Jade continued to criticize my ideas. Everything from how I had divided the budget to what it would require in terms of manpower to implement. The next potential advisor came in after she was done and provided a similar tirade.

It was draining. It was also educational, although there were often times when the would-be advisor missed details from my proposals.

Songbird came back in by the time I was done with a sickle for a smile.

"Good news?"

"Got word that the fighting came to an end at Cantal. Cordelia won."

"Then we're on a time limit."

I wanted to have the House of Light in order before the new First Prince was officially crowned.

"Don't s'pose you could put your seal on this for me?"

I took the parchment and looked at it.

The House of Light is the only institution that has my permission to redistribute 'A Stranger's Guide to Names in Calernia.' Penalties for failing to adhere to this include.

"Include what?" I raised an eyebrow.

"S'not specified on purpose," she grinned.

"This isn't how stories work, you know that?"

"Put your seal on it anyhow," Songbird waved her hand my way as if she was dismissing an insect.

"Only on official documents," I shook my head. "Best you're getting is my name. Anything more would be irresponsible."

"It would be ideal if you ignored this bedraggled clown's jests," Esme sniffed.

"Y'know, that might be even better. Nobody'd believe it's real."

I shrugged, then reached across the table, picked up a quill and signed it.

"Here. What are you even going to do with it?"

"Put it in the first place someone will look for things."

"What, why?" I blinked, meeting the brown of her eyes.

"That way, nobody snooping around for hidden secrets ever finds it."

That made absolutely no sense to me, but it also wasn't worth worrying over.

"Did you find records on the Order of the White Hand?"

The Order of the White Hand was Callow's paladin order until the current Black Knight did them in. I was mostly interested in how expensive it was to fund them, but I doubted I'd have any luck finding out. I still wanted to know as much about them as I could. It was the best way to avoid repeating any mistakes that they might have made.

"M'still having people look."

"Ask sister Jade to look into it if you need to. She'll definitely know where to find the records I'm looking for, or she'll know who to ask. I'll need to know as much about them as possible to make a proper argument."

"Have the two of you made up your mind yet?" Songbird changed the topic once more.

I turned back to Esme and the notes on my table.

"There is little more to discuss before we set sail," she stated.

"Yeah… I'll go over all the notes we made one last time, but I think I'm ready to decide how I'm going to be organizing the House of Light."

I knew that I would make some mistakes along the way but… I hoped they weren't unrecoverable.

There was far too much at stake for me to make a mess of things.

I didn't want to worry about my own house burning down when I finally approached the Highest Assembly with my concerns.​
 
Last edited:
Only making rules she can and will enforce consistently is very wise.

The arguments for the need for - effectively - payment for work for those with more responsibility are interesting. In the long term, maybe a set of dedicated, devoted people could be raised or found, but... yeah, some compensation is necessary IF she needs skills and talents not available purely for the purpose of going what Taylor implements as 'good' in the House.

That said, they don't have to be major. Not do they have to be indulgent, even. They could be funding & implementing pet projects that already passed other tests and simply weren't chosen by the normal 'pure' process. They could be recognition/fame based; getting a biography to be permanently kept in the archives. Etc. Say into what goes on the special treat day menu or something.

The ex-nobles in the House are the real trick. The ones on bad terms with their families, fine. The ones on good terms, well, their families are in politics and like them, and the 'deal' has changed.

That said, the 'deal' was changed by a woman who just smote her political rival in public with holy power after said rival claimed she was without the grace of the gods, so... yeah, the deal's not being unchanged, but they may still be insulted.
 
Honestly, I think Taylor is actually right when she doesn't want the people in power to have any special privilege, and instead wants them to be there for duty. The less special privileges they have, the harder they will be to corrupt and the more likely that the people who seek the post are those who truly believer the job needs to be done and somebody have to do it, which is the right people for the job, in terms of mentality. Yes, they may lack the skills, but honestly, for a boss, having somebody who is trying their best and genuinely wants everybody under them to succeed at their stated mission is better than somebody who is "talented", but whose goal do not align with the stated mission, or at the very least aren't dependent on the mission's success.

Like, Simon specifically says "I didn't swear any vows and not everybody got into the church to help people, some did it for political reason"; well, I'd say to him, "then they can leave the church, we won't hold it against them." Yes, she has to avoid a schism, but if "you won't get special benefits for being in charge, you just get the satisfaction to know you're helping carry out the Gods' will to a greater extent" is enough to cause a schism, then the schism is simply impossible to avoid and she might as well cause it now while she's just taken power, where the people who break off will look like they're siding with the Reformist and thus going against the Gods' chosen representative, rather than later when it might look like she is losing support.

Politics is supposed to be about finding the best way to avoid suffering for as many people as possible; not about finding way to keep those who have power and privilege from complaining while failing to alleviate the suffering of those in need. If Taylor loses sight of that to bend to special interests, then she'd be no better than the suborned and corrupted people she's trying to replace. Compromise is a thing, but there's some things that one shouldn't compromise about unless they want to stop championing their cause, and compromising on "actually, yes, let's create a system where the people in power are fighting each other to maintain power and the benefits it provides, instead of thinking about what would be best for the people they're supposed to represent and in whom's name they're wielding power" isn't a compromise, it's a surrender.
 
Politics is supposed to be about finding the best way to avoid suffering for as many people as possible; not about finding way to keep those who have power and privilege from complaining while failing to alleviate the suffering of those in need. If Taylor loses sight of that to bend to special interests, then she'd be no better than the suborned and corrupted people she's trying to replace. Compromise is a thing, but there's some things that one shouldn't compromise about unless they want to stop championing their cause, and compromising on "actually, yes, let's create a system where the people in power are fighting each other to maintain power and the benefits it provides, instead of thinking about what would be best for the people they're supposed to represent and in whom's name they're wielding power" isn't a compromise, it's a surrender.

Or more simply being the Above counterpart to Praes their version of Iron sharpens Iron is unhealthy and the source of a lot of their problems and bad thinking heck they are even arguably worse than Praes since at least they are competent schemers and know when to fold them and when not to try anything.
 
Like, Simon specifically says "I didn't swear any vows and not everybody got into the church to help people, some did it for political reason"; well, I'd say to him, "then they can leave the church, we won't hold it against them." Yes, she has to avoid a schism, but if "you won't get special benefits for being in charge, you just get the satisfaction to know you're helping carry out the Gods' will to a greater extent" is enough to cause a schism, then the schism is simply impossible to avoid and she might as well cause it now while she's just taken power, where the people who break off will look like they're siding with the Reformist and thus going against the Gods' chosen representative, rather than later when it might look like she is losing support.
I think some benefit is needed, like a pay raise, it doesn't cost her much if her leaders can go to fancy restaurants or have nice stuff in general.

There need to be benefit, but that benefit doesn't need to be huge, her leaders don't need to be nobles.
 
There need to be benefit, but that benefit doesn't need to be huge, her leaders don't need to be nobles.
Why does there needs to be benefits?

I'm serious here, 100%. Why does anybody in a position of leadership over others, thus with the power to tell them what to do (within the specified limits of whatever activities this person is taking leadership over) needs to have benefits? What is the downside of not having benefits that makes them a necessity?

I genuinely do not see any, so I need it explained to me why in the world benefits are a requirement. They are an enticement, sure, like Simon said, but I just said that I don't think there should be enticements to gain positions of leadership, so that won't persuade me. What's this other reason that requires leaders to have benefits? I'm not seeing it.
 
Why does there needs to be benefits?

I'm serious here, 100%. Why does anybody in a position of leadership over others, thus with the power to tell them what to do (within the specified limits of whatever activities this person is taking leadership over) needs to have benefits? What is the downside of not having benefits that makes them a necessity?

I genuinely do not see any, so I need it explained to me why in the world benefits are a requirement. They are an enticement, sure, like Simon said, but I just said that I don't think there should be enticements to gain positions of leadership, so that won't persuade me. What's this other reason that requires leaders to have benefits? I'm not seeing it.
I don't think it is realistic? Without some incentive, people wouldn't fill out the positions, even if she did get some people, they will be too few.

If she want to do with significantly smaller number of leaders, even as everyone else get comfortable doing basic priestly work because why not, being a leader is hard, than giving no benefit is the right idea.
 
You are arguing that people won't do harder job without incentives. That's not true though; there's a ton of people out there that spends lots of hours of their time just writing fanfiction, which cannot be profited from, simply because they love the act of writing and feel gratified when other people who enjoy the act but either don't have the interest to put in the effort or don't feel up to the task compliment them.

To quote somebody way smarter than me: "even if you're not earning Capital, you're earning Social Capital, and that spends almost as good". People will do the work because they think it's the thing the Gods would want of them and they enjoy doing what the Gods wants, and want to feel recognized for doing this thing that they enjoy.

So, again: I disagree, completely, that incentives and benefits are required. Indeed, having incentives and benefits will motivate people to do the job not because they like it, but to earn the benefit, which will lead to doing the minimum necessary - cutting corners for more profit, in capitalist parlance - or even going against the needs of the people as long as it's good enough to earn them more benefit - see: movie companies neutering anything original in an effort to pander to a larger audience for greater profits - neither of which is, in my view, a valid approach.

Basically: I see your argument, "people won't want to do hard work without incentives", and raise you "people do hard work for free in real life just to feel good and be aknowleged for their efforts by peers, there ought to be MORE people willing when you also get acknowledged by the gods". Which brings me back to my initial argument that, as far as I'm concerned, giving leaders benefits will produce only negative outcomes.
 
Last edited:
Basically: I see your argument, "people won't want to do hard work without incentives", and raise you "people do hard work for free in real life just to feel good and be aknowleged for their efforts by peer, there ought to be MORE people willing when you also get acknowledged by the gods". Which brings me back to my initial argument that, as far as I'm concerned, giving leaders benefits will produce only negative outcomes.
I don't deny some people will be up to it, what I disagree with is that it would be enough to fill an organisation's leadership.
 
I suppose that's the sort of things that's up to personal opinion; I obviously don't have the data to prove that there would be enough people, and while it's my gut feeling that there would, if your gut feeling is that there wouldn't, we likely won't agree on this. Which is fair, I just wanted to make my position clear for why I believe that including benefits would be a bad idea.

Just to clarify though: this is your only argument in favor of benefits, that without them not enough people will take up the job? I've not missed anything else in your reasoning?
 
I suppose that's the sort of things that's up to personal opinion; I obviously don't have the data to prove that there would be enough people, and while it's my gut feeling that there would, if your gut feeling is that there wouldn't, we likely won't agree on this. Which is fair, I just wanted to make my position clear for why I believe that including benefits would be a bad idea.

Just to clarify though: this is your only argument in favor of benefits, that without them not enough people will take up the job? I've not missed anything else in your reasoning?
I also think it is morally right that people have career prospects with potential for advancement in more directions than just more work, not necessarily by too much, I think that what the nobles have going on, growing absurd wealth from taxing the poor is abhorrent.

But if someone put a few years of hard work, he should be able to take his family to a nice dinner if he wishes, people who work hard should be rewarded, especially if they are people who don't wish to be rewarded for it.
 
Last edited:
I see what you're saying, and I can understand the sentiment, in a general sense. I just feel that the work of underlings and leaders is equally hard, just different in nature, hence why I don't think anybody should be rewarded more - although I do agree that nobles who aren't doing any work should be rewarded less, or even not at all, if they are not doing any work. Still, I can see where you're coming from.
 
From personal expiriance as a citizen of a post soviet state, no incentive and even threat just leads to uber corruption and extreme carelessness in my expiriance.

Tho honestly from your pov wouldn't cuting the C and proclaiming theocratic rule be better?
Then Tay could afford to engage in attempting to basically solve human society.
 
From personal expiriance as a citizen of a post soviet state, no incentive and even threat just leads to uber corruption and extreme carelessness in my expiriance.
I don't think I said something that supports the way the dictatorship that run the URSS for half a century handled things, or anything defending it? I certainly didn't intend to; I don't think I ever suggested threats being a good way to lead people, either. Still, if I brought back bad memories with my post, I apologize for it.

I just think that everybody should be able to take their family to a nice dinner whenever they wish, not just people in position of leadership. That's really all it is.
 
Last edited:
I just think that everybody should be able to take their family to a nice dinner whenever they wish, not just people in position of leadership. That's really all it is.
Sorry for sounding like that, it is just that, that wound is still raw and i doubt it will heal in my lifetime.

More on topic people want incentives and even beyond the very real narrative casualty in Creation we are just naturally really good at finding or creating it for ourselves even if it comes to the expense of others.
 
The arguments for the need for - effectively - payment for work for those with more responsibility are interesting. In the long term, maybe a set of dedicated, devoted people could be raised or found, but... yeah, some compensation is necessary IF she needs skills and talents not available purely for the purpose of going what Taylor implements as 'good' in the House.

The problem is always opportunity costs. The people that could run a church could also be doing other things, so it is in competition. Self-satisfaction and social respect for doing the work of the gods offsets that, but not always enough to make it worth it.

And then the problem of trying to avoid this by training up others to do it is they just leave once they've got better options.

Honestly, I think Taylor is actually right when she doesn't want the people in power to have any special privilege, and instead wants them to be there for duty. The less special privileges they have, the harder they will be to corrupt and the more likely that the people who seek the post are those who truly believer the job needs to be done and somebody have to do it, which is the right people for the job, in terms of mentality

True. But it's also the path to the House of One, as mentioned, because literally no one is going to meet the standards of someone considering them in the context of angels.

I just said that I don't think there should be enticements to gain positions of leadership, so that won't persuade me. What's this other reason that requires leaders to have benefits? I'm not seeing it.

It's interesting that this sort of attitude shows up in the real world largely in the way NGOs are famous for exploiting their work force. Usually it's because the less money you spend on salaries the more food you can do, so people get convinced that the less they are paid the better for their cause.
 
Concord 5.0h
"There isn't a problem so large that it cannot be solved with plenty of lies and violence."
— Catherine Foundling


Jacques's watch was almost at its end. Soon, he could retire to the land of dreams and let another poor fool take a turn on the walls. And for what? It wasn't as if the northern savages were going to breach the defences. Fools, the lot of them. Only they were mad enough to make war during the heart of winter. Prince Arnaud didn't even need to give battle. The city had more than enough supplies to last out the season.

They only needed to wait.

Wait and laugh, while the Lycaonese froze and starved outside the walls.

Then, when the season ended or the stragglers surrendered, they could raise the gates and search the corpses.

His patrol of the battlements brought him to one of the midway towers along the northern wall. He turned and started to make his way back towards the gatehouse.

Nothing happened.

There was nought to see, and still he was damned to guard the walls before the sun had even seen fit to rise.

Not even the Lycaonese were mad enough to sally forth during a night like this one. The wind howled, screamed like the lost souls of those who were sacrificed on the altars to the east. Snow piled thick below the battlements. The moat had frozen over. Even the warmth of the torch in his hand offered little relief against the cold. It flickered like a lazy candle. Every serious gust threatened to snuff it out.

A horn bellowed from somewhere further along the walls.

One of the other guards had given the alarm.

Jacques came to a halt and stared through the arrow loops. Torches, as far as the eye could see, some thirty feet below and over a mile out. The muted glow was doubled over as it reflected off the frozen waters. The enemy soldiers were forming up under dawn's light on the left of their camp. Just past the neat rows of tents nestled behind a ditch and a stockade, in the gap between their fortifications and the shores of Lake Louvant.

The northern savages were forming up.

They were outside their defences.

It appeared that not even winter's bite deterred them.

Were they insane? He could just make out the shape of an odd curved reflective surface in the distance. The Lycaonese engineers had been working on some manner of esoteric piece of siege equipment for the past few days.

It wasn't a machine that any of their own engineers recognized. It looked more like the work of a Praesi sorcerer than anything that belonged in the Proceran heartlands.

Jacques turned away from the savages and started to march across the top of the wall towards the spiral staircase leading down into the gatehouse.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

His boots against the snow.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

His boots against the smooth stone stairs.

He squinted in the dim light. The door to the gatehouse creaked as he opened it.

The hearth crackled heartily, casting off shadows that danced throughout the room. Over the chairs and tables, along the bedrolls on the floor and across the bleeding out bodies of his comrades.

Betrayal.

It had to be.

But what was their goal? The gate mechanism, it had to be. Open the gate, then jam the mechanism. Only a few small steps, and then the traitor would allow the northern savages within the sanctity of their walls.

What should he do? He owed Prince Arnaud nothing. There was no reason for Jacques to bleed and die for a fancy ass on a throne. The prince was unpleasant and there were rumours about him. Rumours about girls who would visit, then disappear soon after. Why the fuck should he care about what someone like Prince Arnaud would order?

Men like Jacques were expected to just die obediently for their owners, while the princes traded a few inches of land back and forth from one season to the next. Jacques was sick of it all. He was tired of seeing friends, kin and distant acquaintances die from season to season in this utterly pointless war.

He hesitated for a moment as he considered what to do.

Jacques was certain he would die if he decided not to act and his inaction was ever discovered. If Jacques had to choose between his current master and the northern savages, then… there was only one real answer, wasn't there?

At least his current master was civilized.

The metallic cry of his sword rang out as Jacques prepared for a fight. The flame of his torch came next. He snuffed it, dropped it to the ground. It would do him no good below. He proceeded with caution, made his way past the bodies, then down the wooden staircase towards the room housing the gate mechanism.

Jacques wasn't sure which was louder.

The creaking of the stairs or the thumping of his own heart.

The clanking of the mechanism muffled his own steps. He picked up his pace. Jacques couldn't allow the savages even this small victory. Four figures were focused on turning the rusted iron crank.

They were so invested in what their current activity that they didn't even notice as he approached.

Jacques dashed forward. He brought up his sword, then brought it down on the neck of the first. They let out a shriek and shoved him back. He stumbled, came to a stop against one of the room's supporting pillars.

Need to even the odds.

"Have you no pride? Why betray us to the Hasenbach?" he called out.

His enemy's blades rang out as they cleared their scabbards. The three of them started to approach. The forth whimpered and clasped at their own neck. They tried to rise, then collapsed onto the ground.

"Better the north holds the crown than allow this farce to drag on further," the middle figure replied. It was familiar. Somebody he knew. Bertrand? Was that Bertrand?

Jacques righted himself. His foot hooked into the legs of a brazier. He pushed against it. It tumbled over, spilling hot coals onto the ground between him and his foes. One of them yelped and shied away. He started to peddle backwards, keeping his eye on his foes and his blade raised. They spread out.

"Traitor," Jacques spat out.

"We need to hurry. Get rid of him and return to opening the gate," the woman on the left urged.

She feinted forward.

Jacques refused the bait. His back struck another wall. He was cornered.

He let out a cry. Better to make sure the bastards perished, even if they did him in first. Fool. He should have called for support first. The man on the right darted forward. Jacques raised his blade, parried, only to be taken by another blade in the arm. He snarled, grabbed at his opponent and pulled them forward, impaling his blade in their gut. They thrashed, tried to pull away.

It did them no good.

"We're making a mess of this. Work quicker, we only have so much time," the woman hissed.

Jacques held his victim tight against himself, even as he felt more cuts nicking at his sides. The man leaned in. Took a bite out of his neck. Jacques's hands were slick with blood and his head was woozy, but he persevered.

Better Prince Amadis or Princess Aenor than the Hasenbach.

He let out another cry and then ambled forward, falling against one of the other assailants. It was Bertrand. The man stumbled, dropped his sword. Jacques grabbed it, panted, he was short of breath.

"Damn you, stop fighting, Jacques," Bertrand exclaimed.

A glint out of the corner of his eyes. He raised the blade. Met the oncoming sword. There was a loud clang. He trembled from the impact. It was hard to maintain his grip. Dizzy. Light-headed. He needed to… to. To what?

I'm going to die, aren't I?

The words in his mind were muted, distant, as if they echoed out from across the lake.

Then it was best that he take as many of them with him as possible. Give his last moments some meaning. Make them matter.

The woman struck again. This time, her blade buried itself in his gut. Jacques leaned into it. Her eyes widened as he grabbed her and pulled her close.

"What are you. No, no, no. Let go of me!" She protested, shaking her short crop of crimson hair from side to side.

Jacques felt the sweet sting of her blade as he welcomed it inside himself. Felt it, then let it pass. He brought his own blade up, buried it inside of her. Bertrand watched from a few feet away, his own eyes open wide.

Jacques heard the clang of metal boots on the bricks above. Reinforcements. The traitors wouldn't be opening the gate. He smiled. Smiled as the world became a wash of colours, then finally slipped away.

At least the northern savages wouldn't be breaching the city after all.


A green eagle perched atop a crescent fluttered on the flag dangling from atop the gatehouse.

Klaus Papenheim lowered the looking glass from his eye. The drawbridge remained closed. He cursed, then spat at his right into a bank of snow. That plan had always had long odds. His niece had informed him of the presence of supporters within the walls who could lower the gates. Klaus hadn't counted on that scheme for success, but it would have made the entire affair a whole god-damned less messy to clean up.

Sabotage would have made breaching the walls a lot less bloody. If the second plan failed as well, then out came the ladders. Then it would be a conventional siege and well… then, even if they scraped through to the other side, it would cost them dearly.

He will win. On every path he wins.

The words that had damned him to this southern slog haunted him. Mornings this far away from Hannoven had been indolent before winter had set in. It was easy to see how the Alamans had become so soft. Now the biting mist and howling winds dug deep into his men, keeping them awake and spry even at the earliest hours of the morning.

His niece was a cast iron bitch. Tough as nails and harder than steel. She did what she believed was necessary, but nobody would ever love her for it. Forced marches through the harshest season had taken its toll on his troops. They had replenished supplies as they captured enemy fortresses along the way, then supplemented them even further with goods purchased from the dwarves at exorbitant rates.

It did little to boost morale.

The hourglass had been turned from the moment they began their southern campaign, and the sands had almost run out. All of them felt the foetid caress of death breathing down their necks from the north.

The Empress has turned her gaze inwards. The lands to the east are riddled with strife and turmoil. She will interfere no further at this stage of the war.

At least they would not need to contend with the Praesi breed of cloak and dagger nonsense on top of the Proceran variant of the same stupidity.

"Is the weapon ready?" He shouted out to the pale man toiling above on the scaffolds beside him.

Klaus hadn't counted on having one of his siege engineers chosen by the heavens when he prepared for this campaign, but he was not above taking advantage of any windfalls that came his way. Godsdamnit, he'd need them.

He didn't pretend to understand the intricacies of the device the man had constructed, he'd only observed the trial demonstrations of the smaller model. The ten-foot wide contraption was shaped like a dish with a section of elaborate paraphernalia in front of it. It was pointed towards the gates of Cantal.

Klaus did not place much hope on the success of this venture, but was willing to gamble on the device if it spared the lives of his men.

"Almost, your grace. Just need a few more moments to calibrate it, and then — there!" The Gifted Maker exclaimed.

"All right, then. Everyone, move your asses out of the way, it's time to see if the lad's weapon works as advertised," Klaus called out.

The Gifted Maker scaled his way down the scaffold like a spider descending its web. A hundred white robes drew close. The priests. The hints his niece had dropped regarding the possibility of a future crusade had set his thoughts ablaze. Different tactics would be needed to wage war against the Praesi than the ones which were used to match wits with the evils to the north.

The Praesi had their own special breeds of nastiness.

Klaus had taken it upon himself to revise the Proceran doctrine on combined arms, attempting to integrate priests and wizards into the painfully outdated Proceran school of warfare. Convincing priests to do anything other than heal others had been like picking at a loose tooth, but he had found them surprisingly creative once they found the motivation to be.

Barriers, infused projectiles and other forms of indirect wartime contributions were all deemed to be acceptable. Direct attacks were not. The device that had been invented by the Gifted Maker straddled the line between both.

"Ready, fire!"

The priests finished uttering their prayers. A heartbeat later and a multitude of continuous beams of liquid Light slammed into the polished dish. The beams were redirected, channelled into another, much smaller artefact.

The world held its breath.

There was a flash, an ominous thrum.

A concentrated actinic beam shot forward from the invention and slammed into the city wards.

The wards shrieked, then the city gate detonated.

Everything went white.

For a moment, nobody could see anything. Klaus blinked the spots out of his vision.

A hundred-foot segment of the Cantal city walls had been demolished. The hole in the fortifications stood out like a gaping wound.

It seems the Gods decided to spare us some nastiness for once.

"I asked you to take out the gate, not the whole damn wall."

"The blast should have been smaller, your grace." The Gifted Maker gulped. "I suspect that the wards were destabilized by the weapon. Their… interference must have intensified the final result."

"How did you say this works, boy?" he turned towards Sébastien.

"The city wards are intended to redirect any sorcery across the entire structure, but they're not calibrated to handle quantities of the Light beyond a certain threshold. Priests play such a minor role in siege warfare that it's not deemed worth the effort to shield against them. I theorized that if we overloaded the ward at a single point and then infused the structure behind it with the Light, it would cause a detonation. I didn't expect it to be quite so dramatic, your grace."

"Fine work. Dismissed."

Klaus Papenheim marched over towards the lines of his infantry. He passed many other pieces of siege equipment in the process of being constructed. Ladders, towers, bridges, and the like.

At long last, he reached his troops.

Lines of torches flickered in dawn's light, doing little to push back the cold. He donned his helmet, drew his sword and seized the standard of Hannoven. Then — at last ready — he raised it in the air beside him.

"All right, boys and girls," he shouted. "It seems fucking all those other princes up the arse didn't get our message across. These three princes and princesses think they're clever hiding behind their walls and are going to need a repeat performance before it sinks in. So let's raise our banners once more and ride to war. I want this mess to be cleaned up before the year ends, you hear me?"

Their call back was deafening. Feeling twenty years younger, Klaus Papenheim brought up his shield and charged.


Prince Arnaud paced back and forth inside the dining hall in irritation. He passed beneath a tapestry detailing his family line back ten generations, stopped beside the entrance, then returned to the head of the table.

He had woken to the call of the horn, only to discover the threat had already been contained. Traitors within the ranks of his guard. They had sought to guide the Lycaonese into the city walls by compromising the city gate.

The scheme had come dangerously close to succeeding. Prince Arnaud had nonetheless ordered more of his mean to the walls. Better to be prepared for conflict, then caught with his pants down.

Had it been any other season, then Prince Arnaud would have long since ridden out to give battle to his foes. It would not do to risk having his capital put to torch. Despite how brutal the civil war had become with the passage of years, some etiquette remained. The Princes fought on the fields, they did not hide away behind their walls.

Winter's bite gave Prince Arnaud the confidence to cool his heels. He was well supplied and hidden behind strong fortifications. Not even his enemies among the Cantal nobility would dare call his decision anything other than pragmatism. Furthermore, he was not alone.

Princess Aenor and Prince Amadis were both in residence. They had come to an uneasy alliance. Prince Amadis would throw in his lot behind Princess Aenor in exchange for absolute amnesty after the end of the civil war. The other two princes had arrived at Cantal to hammer out the final details of their agreement.

They were only a day from departure back to their own lands, before the northerners had sealed them in.

All three of them were united in purpose. They sought to oppose their foes to the north.

However, Prince Arnaud was not so much a fool as to allow them to garrison their troops within his own walls. Doing so would be akin to suicide through loss of reputation among his own nest of snakes. Instead, their armies had been garrisoned and supplied elsewhere. Some were near to Cantal and had assisted in harrying the forces of Klaus Papenheim, the rest were garrisoned further south in a fortress near a town called Saudant.

The princes themselves, however, were still forced to take shelter under his roof.

Truth be told, Prince Arnaud cared not one whit about whether it was a northern or southern head that bore the crown of the First Prince. However, Cantal shared a border with Iserre and both him and Prince Amadis were on amiable terms. After several favourable trade agreements and a few hands traded back and forth, he had been willing to throw in his support behind their faction, rather than sit out the remainder of the war.

He would benefit from this campaign, regardless of how it came to an end.

Prince Arnaud was not worried about the outcome of the siege. The string of grisly killings within the city walls was a far more pressing concern. The murderer had yet to be apprehended, and all the deaths were both creative and bloody. The nobility was clamouring for the murderer's head, ever since one of their own had been reaped. It was likely that the Lycaonese would starve long before the defences fell in comparison.

His erstwhile allies of circumstances had returned to bed once they had discovered the alert had served no purpose.

And so Prince Arnaud found himself pacing alone.

Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.

The sound of bare flesh on stone.

Prince Arnaud turned towards the arched doorway.

A message girl passed through the arched doorway. Short, blonde, young. The shape of her breasts hinted through her tunic. His gaze lingered for a few moments, before rising to meet the brown of her eyes.

"Word from the walls, your grace."

The girl did her best to keep her voice level, but Prince Arnaud could hear the slightest tremble. He savoured it for a few moments. Rumours of his predilections had made their way down to the peasantry. The fear they expressed in his presence always sent a shiver of delight down his spine.

"Come now," he purred, before walking towards the table and pouring himself a glass of wine. He smiled at her, "why don't you share what you have to say."

The girl flinched.

Prince Arnaud's pulse quickened. The call of the horn had put him in a foul mood. An early morning tryst was exactly what was called for to cool his blood. His guards were outside the room. They knew better than to disturb him once the screaming started, or to avert their eyes as he dragged her off to the bed chamber.

"The Lycaonese are still readying themselves for battle. Lines are-"

There was a flash of white, then a tremor. The girl stumbled. Prince Arnaud steadied himself by leaning against a chair.

What manner of weapon was that?

The tremor came from the north.

"Send for the captain of my guard," he barked out. "Have Princess Aenor and Prince Amadis woken up once more. Tell them to make their way to the war room. I'll join them once I have appraised myself of the situation." The girl was frozen like a rabbit under the gaze of a lion. "Listen to your betters. Move, you idiot girl," he snapped out.

She nodded frightfully, then broke into a sprint.

Prince Arnaud dismissed the girl from his mind and strolled out of the dining hall. Down several corridors, up a spiral staircase and into a room above. There, an open window with a view. He looked out over his city towards the northern defences.

A large, gaping chunk was missing from the walls.

He observed for a few moments as the Lycaonese forces marched to exploit the opening. Projectiles rained down from above, only to bounce harmlessly off golden barriers that had been summoned forth by priests. Wizards and crossbowmen returned fire. Men hunkered down and advanced slowly behind the cover of shields.

His mind started to race. He had cultivated a reputation among the nobility for being nothing but a blustering buffoon. He preferred to be underestimated than given his proper due. It lowered his enemy's guard, made it far easier to slide in the knife when the time came to strike. It was a reputation that he was willing to cast aside if it allowed him to maintain his position as Prince of Cantal.

Prince Arnaud could hole up behind the walls of his fort and likely sustain a protracted siege, but there were enough granaries within the city walls to supply the Lycaonese all winter. Cantal was one of the breadbaskets of the Principate. His people were well-fed, even during times as troubled as these were. It was also unclear how many more times that new weapon of theirs could be wielded. Was it a one-off trick, or was it something that the Lycaonese could repeat?

Allowing the Lycaonese free rein of the capital would see him removed from his position, even should they eventually be forced to retreat.

It did not even matter if the weapon could be wielded again.

That realization was enough to help him make up his mind.

If he wished to retain the seat of his power, then he needed to make peace with the northerners. Make peace, and convince them to leave.

He departed from the tower and called out for one of the servants. Asked them to bring up a specific vintage of wine from the cellars. It was a bottle he had set aside for occasions such as this one. Then, he asked another to find him the antidote.

It was fortunate that he had two other crowns to bargain with.​
 
Last edited:
Klaus hadn't counted on having one of his siege engineers chosen by the heavens when he prepared for this campaign

My mind immediately went to Da Vinci. I'm sure he's not the only one that would fit this description, Archimedes also came to mind after a moment, and this assumes that the name is an imported on, but it what I thought of.

The Gifted Maker exclaimed.

Da Vinci would definitely fit the name.

The priests finished uttering their prayers. A heartbeat later and a multitude of continuous beams of liquid Light slammed into the polished dish. The beams were redirected, channelled into another, much smaller artefact.

While this would probably fit the style of some of Da Vinci's more outlandish creations, I'm leaning more towards Archimedes with this one. That sounds rather like Archimedes' Heat Ray.
 
I wonder if Praes cities are warded against light as well, and this is one of the reasons they look down on Western warding schemas.
 
I wonder if Praes cities are warded against light as well, and this is one of the reasons they look down on Western warding schemas.

Probably not remember for all they are used to facing Callow they aren't particularly good at thinking of such things in advance due to looking down on their opponents so much after all the Callowan idea of a clever ploy is historically a cavalry charge from the rear instead of the front and even Akua is embarrassed to admit just how they keep falling for it. Plus well they have the whole internal competition thing so every stronghold is probably warded completely differently.
 
Concord 5.12
"One is not born either Good or Evil, one is simply born. It is insulting to imply otherwise. Our Tyrants and Chancellors strive just as hard to be Evil as the most diligent Good Kings or most virtuous of saints."
— Extract from a Praesi repudiation of the Proceran religious text 'Truths of the Shore.'


Thinking I was ready to decide how to organize the House of Light had been — in retrospect — a mistake. Fortunately — for both the church and myself — the existing administrators were able to keep it afloat while I floundered around and found my feet. One day I hoped to actually develop all those different skills. That day wasn't today. I tried to make the habit of picking up new skills whenever I could. Just because it was unlikely that I would ever need them didn't mean that I should dismiss their existence.

It had been reviewing the historical costs of fielding knights that had convinced me that perhaps I should delegate more. It was over ten times cheaper to train and arm crossbowmen than knights. That wasn't even counting how long it took to train knights.

Knights were not what I wanted for my paladins. For one, I didn't need them to own horses. I also didn't need them to come from among the nobility or possess many of the skills that a knight would typically have. However, there were other costs that ordinary knights would not have.

I wanted my paladins to be able to wield the Light. I also wanted them to have equipment that was protected against sorcery. The plate armour worm by Callow's paladins had been inscribed with scripture and allegedly guarded against magic. Those additional requirements — among a few others — made up for the savings in traditional knight training.

There was just too much that I did not know to manage this all on my own.

I'd ended up appointing my advisors first, then allowing them much more control over my plans for the restructuring of the House of Light. The number of representatives per principality was cut down by them to one. The representatives were elected by the priests in the capital of each principality once every decade. A warning was given out the year before, so that any priests in the surrounding towns and villages could make the journey if they wished to cast their own vote.

Those representatives then had a fair amount of leeway in how they managed everyone below them. They drafted proposals for the taxes in their regions, which were subject to the approval of both me and my advisors. Both what was taxed and the percentage of the tax. That wealth was then centralized at the capital of each Principality, and funds were apportioned from there into four main categories. The first was maintenance, which was an umbrella term for many things and included the coin for disaster relief. It was the most important category, and all other categories were determined based on the remainder. The second was projects undertaken within each principality on the recommendation of the people living there. The third was for trade investments, and the last portion was for greater church projects.

Those representatives then had assistants who were expected to draft and publish an annual church account that was available to the public to review. Esme had people under her authority who were responsible for auditing it. Once a decade — when the representatives changed — there was a review of which church holdings were eligible for taxation made by the new representatives. Any church holdings that felt were being unjustly treated by their leaders could also raise a complaint to the inquisition.

I had also decided that I wasn't going to control the representatives by playing them against each other. I didn't believe it would be right to do so. It would be establishing the exact kind of system that I was trying to remove.

Instead, a complicated system of rewards and incentives had been developed by my advisors to encourage the representatives to do the right thing. Funding for pet projects provided they meet the right criteria, personal allowances, ancillary privileges and the like. All the bonuses were dependent on how well they adhered to the goals I was laying out, and they varied from principality to principality based on the politics of those principalities. Representatives could then vote on greater church policy once a year, or bring any petitions before me.

That served as the carrot. The threat of me descending on them if they strayed from the path of good served as one stick, but I was hoping to find myself another.

I hadn't realized just how much of a relief it would be to delegate responsibility of the minutiae to someone else until I'd gone ahead and done so. There was still a small niggling at the back of my head. A part of me insisting that I should be responsible for everything. But… I was doing my best to ignore it.

"There's no need to subject yourself to this, Chosen," one of the sisters said differentially from beside me.

"It's about respect," I replied.

"I'll take my leave then," she bowed.

I watched her depart the indoor garden along a path of soft sand, threading her way between rose bushes, past lavender and then through the arched concrete passageway. Turning, I stared at the pool of water behind me with the same enthusiasm as a cat preparing to bathe.

Nothing to it, Taylor.

I pulled off my robe, then stripped myself of my small clothes and bundled everything beside the edge of the water into a tidy pile. At last, I dipped my toe into the water.

It was about as bracing as I expected it to be.

The temptation to heat the water up rose once more. I squashed it. Cheating would defeat the purpose of this. I took a deep breath, then plunged into the frigid pool.

C.c.cold.

I turned towards the hourglass at the side of the pool and flipped it with a bit more vigour than necessary. I glared at the sands for a few moments, before reaching towards the soaps and oils.

It was miserable.

Not even the light of the sun helped stave off the chill.

Step by step, I cleaned myself.

None of this was strictly necessary. I could have decided to do otherwise. But… Cordelia was going through the same process. It was required of the would be First Prince when they met with the head of the House of Light in the days leading up to their coronation. I'd informed her that I wasn't expecting her to follow through with this process.

She'd told me that she would follow the letter of the law.

Even if the law — in this case — was a stupid tradition that should be overturned.

I'd already drafted a proposal for the Highest Assembly to do so. It wasn't high on my list of priorities, but if something was both easy to do and beneficial, then… it should be done.

I left the pool an hour later wet and miserable. After towelling down and changing into an austere white shift, I walked briskly towards the chamber where we would be meeting and took my place at the head of the table. I was alone in the room. The crackle of the hearth behind me did much to offset the cold.

Cordelia Hasenbach was led into the chamber a few moments later.

Duty. Forge the Principate into a tool that can withstand the Evils to the north. A weapon that can endure the test of time and will not fracture with Cordelia's passing from power.

Her hair was unbraided and goosebumps stuck out along her arms. She wore a matching outfit and marched in with as much dignity as she could.

Her eyes narrowed.

Esme had spent some time lecturing me on the importance of etiquette. I wasn't certain that I bought into her diatribe, but I was willing to bet that Cordelia Hasenbach did. I'd follow Esme's advice as a consequence of that.

Our meeting began with an exchange of meaningless pleasantries, followed by a meal. It was a silent affair, and my thoughts wandered while we ate.

This would have been a much more grandiose event had the Holies still been in residence, but I didn't feel the need to grandstand. The two of us both had our duties and priorities that needed attending to. I'd do my best to put on the front that she would expect of someone in my position, but no more than that.

Cordelia had at last brought an end to the civil war. Princess Aenor and Prince Amadis had been betrayed and turned over to Klaus Papenheim by Prince Arnaud at Cantal. With them eliminated from the running, she had become the sole remaining contender for the crown of the First Prince.

She had been busy ever since then. This was the first time that the two of us were able to meet again. I did not begrudge her that. It was probable that she had been even more preoccupied than I was. I'd inquired if she would be able to allot more time to this meeting than what was legally required so that we could cover other significant topics of conversation. It had been an idle request made with the expectation that she would refuse, and I'd need to schedule a separate meeting later.

It had come as a pleasant surprise when she had acceded to my petition.

The meal ended and the formalities began. They did not take long to finalize. I followed through scripted lines prepared for me by people long dead, and Cordelia did much the same. Once the empty traditions had completed, and she had secured the approval of the priests, our attention at last turned to other matters.

"Have you resolved the conflict within the Chain of Hunger?" Cordelia inquired.

We had left the dining room and walked towards my office.

"I have. It's complicated and there's a lot I need to catch you up on."

One of the sisters opened the door for the both of us. We entered, and I pointed towards the organized piles of documentation on the shelves beside my desk.

"Chain of Hunger," my hand drifted left, "Fae troubles in Bayeux," it drifted to the penultimate pile, "proposals for you," and settled on the final stack, "proposals for the Highest Assembly."

Despite the fact that she would likely oppose me on many proposals in the Highest Assembly, I didn't truly see her as an enemy. We were both trying to do good, we just had a different perspective on what that was. I wanted to try to maintain a cordial relationship as a result. I'd do her the courtesy of informing her of my proposals in advance. Springing surprises like that on people wasn't something that I thought made for a long term, amicable relationship.

"It would have been more expedient for you to have this delivered to my advisors."

"I had other troubles first. Considered it later. My own advisors suggested I wait."

Cordelia said nothing in response to that. She picked up my transcription of the Tumult's proposal and skimmed through it in moments.

"You do not believe that the Principate should agree to this treaty."

"Five years of uneasy truce is more than either of us was expecting," I agreed. "Giving the Ratlings access to sorcery before they can choose not to fight sounds like a recipe for disaster. We know the source of their curse, we can work on solving it. If you do want to negotiate with the Tumult any further, then I can carry any correspondence."

"It is unfortunate that the Gigantes will slay any Procerans who set foot across their borders. They are best suited to assist with unravelling this conundrum."

"I could make overtures."

"It is doubtful that they would hear you out."

That didn't surprise me. Proceran heroes did not have the best of reputations and had attacked the Gigantes in the past. I might qualify as not Proceran by technicality, but I doubted that the Gigantes would be willing to make that distinction.

Cordelia turned her attention towards the missive on the Fae. She said nothing in response to it, then turned her attention towards the third pile.

"The suggestion that the yet to be instituted Proceran order of wizards should be founded beside Constance's Scar has merit."

"Something will need to be done about the Scar anyway."

"Why do you recommend that Yvette should occupy an important role in this new institution?"

Yvette needed an outlet to help her learn more about sorcery. She'd reached the end of what I could teach, and this was an opportunity to discover more on her own. I hoped that with sufficient adult supervision, she wouldn't cause any major trouble. While I didn't like the idea of being so far away from Yvette, I expected that Proceran sorcerers would solve the problem of scrying sometime soon. It wasn't a perfect solution, but I didn't want to stifle her own dreams out of a desire to keep her close.

"She has a Name centred around sorcery and an academic interest in things like the Scar. She can help teach your wizards. That way the order has a better foundation. She gets an opportunity to investigate the Scar as an incentive to help."

Cordelia put that suggestion aside and seized the next one.

This was where matters became more complicated.

"Why should the Highest Assembly formally recognize you as the leader of the Proceran House of Light?"

Don't lie, beat around the bush or scheme. She can outwit you at all of that anyhow. Just be honest, forthright. You're a hero, not a politician.

I breathed in.

"It gives you leverage over the House of Light. There are provisions in that proposal allowing the nobility to seize the lands of any branches of the House of Light that splinter away from the main organization."

It was a risk. The problem was that I could not be in every principality at once if I wanted to enforce my rules. Esme's inquisition would only be able to do so much. But… while I didn't have an army, the princes did. They would also pounce at any opportunity to take away lands from the church. Cordelia was no exception to that. I knew that she'd remove all power from the church if she could do so without an uprising. I hoped that I could get the princes to acknowledge me as the legal authority over the House of Light in exchange for strengthening their position against the priests.

It was the kind of stick I needed to motivate the more ambitious priests to do the right thing if I wasn't going to have them scheme against each other.

"This would also consolidate your position of power by granting you legitimacy."

"That's true, but I have that already in every sense except the legal sense. There's been twenty years of civil war. Nobody likes the princes. It doesn't matter that you won the war as cleanly as could be done. I toppled the Holies from power in a little over a month while smothering another conflict in the crib, and brought attention to many other issues in the process. If it comes to a popularity contest, then I'm always going to win. If I declare war against the princes, their own soldiers might turn on them in my favour."

"That is not an argument in support of this proposal. Recognizing you as the leader of the House of Light would position you as a credible opposition to the throne."

"There are also benefits. I want to work with you, not around or against you."

"Why do you believe that granting you legitimacy makes for a more stable Principate than one where the House of Light remains divided."

"If you recognize my authority, then I can actually help you with your own projects. You wouldn't need to worry about the House of Light betraying you. It's a way to wield the full power of the Proceran House of Light without fighting us tooth and nail for it."

"That is only true so long as your interests remain aligned with those of the crown. Even should you remain a paragon of virtue for the remainder of your life, it remains to be seen whether the same is true of your eventual successor. Should this proposal pass in the Highest Assembly, then another Liturgical War is one day all but assured."

"Make the recognition provisional on me remaining the leader and up for consideration when I either abdicate or perish."

Cordelia set the motion aside and said no more about it, then picked up another page. Her eyes narrowed in thought.

"You did not write these amendments to the proposed education reforms yourself."

"No," I admitted. "I passed them on to my advisors and then threw in my own ideas. They made them feasible."

"It would reduce the burden the original proposal would place on the nobility by apportioning a part of it to the House of Light."

I'd come to realize that many of Cordelia's teachers and advisors were priests, and that the same was true for every prince. The House of Light probably had the highest concentration of educated people out of any institution in the principate. While that education did not cover every subject and the nobles undoubtedly had a much higher level of education overall, it did cover reading, writing, and arithmetic.

"It only helps with less specialized skills. Your original proposal involving trade schools makes more sense for anything beyond the first few years of schooling but…"

"You have stipulated that you do not wish for spiritual education to take place during the allotted teaching time, despite the role of teacher being given to priests."

"My advisors weren't happy about that. I want people to do good and to worship the Gods. I think that I'd be more likely to chase people away by putting the Gods into every element of their life, then convince them to join the church."

Besides, there were other ways to teach the virtues I wanted kids to learn without the message being so blatant. Teaching children to read with stories that had specific themes and lessons within them was a much better way to instil values without just beating their head with a holy book. It appealed to a wider audience. Convincing people who worshipped the Gods Below to live by good values was far more important — and likely far easier — than convincing them to worship Above.

And once they adopted those values…

They were far more likely to join groups that held similar virtues close to their heart.

"This proposal would likely pass in the Highest Assembly even without my weight behind it."

"I worked with you before taking over the House of Light. I don't want to throw away that relationship. There are some differences now. I can no longer reshape Creation on a whim. It changes the nature of any alliance we might have. That doesn't mean there aren't new benefits to working with me."

I hope that being honest and forthright works here, because trying to outwit Cordelia certainly won't.

"You should send this document to my advisors. They will return an amended copy of it once they have examined it further."

Cordelia put it aside and picked up the next proposal. She remained silent for a good ten minutes before finally choosing to reply.

"The House of Light does not require the approval of the Highest Assembly to offer many of these services."

The proposal detailed many ancillary goods and services that I believed the House of Light could offer, that no other institution could. They all involved the use of the Light in some way. From entertainment — firework displays using the Light — to esoteric construction work, to tools. Some of my ideas might not be feasible. I suspected that a large proportion of them would not generate much income either, but that wasn't the point of it.

The point was to illustrate just how much she stood to potentially gain by agreeing to work with me.

Some ideas were only theoretical. I'd need to do my fair share of innovation to prove the Light could be used that way, then teach the method to others. I'd marked those ideas as unproven on the proposal, as well as provided my reasoning for why I believed they were achievable.

It had taken some asking around to learn the historical reason for why most priests did not experiment with the Light. It surprised me that I hadn't worked it out on my own. Excessive use of the Light burned every priest except for me from the inside out. Draw too much and it became fatal. Pair easy guidance for already known miracles with a sensible aversion towards self harm, and over time a culture of conservatism towards experimentation had developed.

I hoped to chip away at that attitude.

"We can't manufacture arms or armour without something changing."

"The Principate moved away from fielding heavily armoured knights towards mercenaries due to the comparison in cost-effectiveness."

"I know. I obtained records that prove as much. Five to ten crossbowmen per knight, ten to twenty infantrymen per knight. It doesn't mean that there aren't cases where having access to specialized equipment isn't beneficial. You could have crossbowmen outfitted in protected plate specifically to counter Praesi wizards. Specialized units dedicated to killing enemy sorcerers in the event of an invasion. Priests are effective at countering wizards, but only a few of them will ever volunteer for war."

"You have included many stipulations whereby the House of Light may refuse service."

"I'm not planning on funding an anti-wizard crusade inside the Principate itself, nor am I planning to incite offensive wars against other nations for the purpose of obtaining territory."

"Equipment imbued by the Light does not retain its investment for extended periods of time, unlike enchanted equipment manufactured by sorcery."

"It can be renewed. There isn't a reason to maintain the effect outside wars with Praes. It's better to have the equipment for when it is needed, than not have it at all."

This proposal more than any other was one that I hoped was approved. Armour that protected from sorcery was not cheap to manufacture. It was also something that the House of Light would by default have a monopoly on. The fact that the defensive effect would need to be refreshed would make it a renewable source of income during times of war. While nothing would make me happier than a world at peace, I didn't doubt there would be many more conflicts in the future.

"Have this drafted into a missive and sent to my uncle so that he may review your ideas. However, it is unlikely that it will garner much in the way of interest unless you develop a more affordable measure of anti-magic defence." She paused, frowned in thought. "He has several requests of his own for the House of Light. You should expect him to approach you sometime in the near future."

Cordelia continued to pick up, read through and comment on many proposals. Some she set aside for review by one person or another. Others, she outright dismissed. It must have been over an hour later before she finally reached the final two.

"My eyes and ears in other principalities can confirm your warning of the increase in number of both the chosen and the damned. More than one Principality has become rife with discord over the past few weeks."

"It's the reason for this proposal."

"You appear to be far more appraised of this situation than anyone else, despite having spent a significant amount of time within the Chain of Hunger."

"The new names come from the stories of my world. The Gods asked me to share them. This was the result."

"So you are to blame for the chaos that has spread across Procer?" her voice intensified.

"Would you refuse a request of the Gods?" I retorted, looking away from the blonde at the unlit candle on the desk beside her.

"If a soldier acts on the orders of their superior, it does not absolve them of responsibility."

"I'm not denying responsibility. But… I believe there must have been a reason. Some good that came of this. They wouldn't have asked otherwise. In fact, I can confirm as much. There's a hero. A bard. She's immortal, and I don't even have the faintest idea how old she is. She planned to blow up the continent, and my decision ruined her plans. Considering how detailed her scheme was… I'd have given her a good chance of succeeding."

"There is no way for anyone to verify the veracity of the claim, while the chaos that plagues the Principate is evident to all."

It also wasn't possible to verify that I was to blame, but that was not the point. I wasn't going to avoid responsibility.

"I know," my voice was subdued. "It's everywhere, not just here. Praes, the Principate, in the lands over the sea."

I turned my attention back to Cordelia. Her face was a mask. Inscrutable. At last, she spoke once more.

"You should understand that the reason for the ban against the House of Light maintaining a standing army is to prevent further conflict."

"That shouldn't be a problem with me in charge."

"There is also no reason why your proposed policing force would need to fall under the control of the House of Light."

"Heroes wouldn't listen to the princes."

"Your argument is founded on the preconception that many of both the chosen and the damned will pose a lesser threat, and are thus containable by those without a choosing of their own. Should that be true, then there is no reason for that force to fall under the authority of the church. The principle would remain the same. Only those who pose a sufficient threat would require the intervention of heroes."

"There is a benefit. The faithful have access to the Light. It gives them a weapon that helps bridge the gap. The force would be trained to fight named combatants, not to wage conventional wars. They would need to learn stories and tactics to combat esoteric abilities."

"You have yet to make a convincing argument that the church is instrumental in solving the problem. There are soon to be many dispossessed fantassins wandering the Principate now that the war has ended. They have already made violence their trade, and thus they could be put to the same purpose now."

"Could you even do that? They don't fall under the authority of the First Prince except during times of a crusade."

"While both motions would face opposition within the Highest Assembly, only one of them would infringe on the sovereignty of the princes of Procer."

Cordelia turned her attention towards the final proposal. It was the one that I expected would receive the most criticism.

"There is not a single prince in the Principate that will vote for this motion in the Highest Assembly."

"It's important. There's going to be lots more heroes and villains now. If you want me to hold heroes accountable, then they need legal permission to hold princes accountable."

"This is the Principate of Procer. We mete out the same justice to the highest soul and the lowest. Agreeing to this proposal would be tantamount to a declaration that the Chosen and the Damned stand above the law. It would undermine the principles that this nation has been founded on."

"Heroes do stand above the law. If I walked into the Highest Assembly and killed everyone there, nobody except the Gods would be able to stop me. Pretending otherwise is a lie. I'm offering you a way to make it less of a lie."

"It does not matter whether one is born a peasant or a prince. From highest to lowest, we are all taught one truth. Our nation is one where the laws are fair and all are treated equal when they stand before the magistrate. We often fail at achieving this, but the belief is still there. Not one person from the gutters in Iserre to the throne in Salia will entertain this proposal, for it is anathema to the truths that we hold most dear."

"You're the first person I'm approaching. I'm going to be trying to convince the others of the necessity of the agreement as well."

"This measure would be more likely to pass were you not the leader of the House of Light, not that it has any hope of succeeding, irrespective of your standing. It is a short step from being the leader of the House of Light to leader of the Principate once you have the right to depose the First Prince."

"Then that's fine."

"You do not intend to press the matter when you fail to achieve your goal?"

"The Principate is founded on a lie. One day a hero will find the princes objectionable and make my point for me. All I'll do is withhold judgement against them until you amend the laws."

"You would consign the Principate to the fire only to see your point made?"

"One day Procer will die. Not because I have anything against it, but because one day something better will replace it. That's just the way things are."

"Not so long as I remain standing."

"That wasn't a threat. I'm not planning to move against Procer. It's just that… time changes everything. Only one of us plans to live forever, Cordelia."

And it isn't you.

A few more courtesies were exchanged before our meeting came to an end.

Cordelia departed the Starlit Cloister not long afterwards.​
 
Last edited:
"It does not matter whether one is born a peasant or a prince. From highest to lowest, we are all taught one truth. Our nation is one where the laws are fair and all are treated equal when they stand before the magistrate. We often fail at achieving this, but the belief is still there.

Man that's such a blatant lie Procer is corrupt to the core with exceptions such as Fantassin companies being allowed and considering it a divine right to steal supplies from an army they serve with. So much so that in canon during the war with the Dead king that they were arguably losing at that point they rioted over it when some of them on Procer's payroll got hanged for stealing supplies from the Callowan army that were earmarked as vital resources for important projects vital to the war effort and of course the Princes are worse.
 
Back
Top