An RP in the World of Avernum
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| Author | Topic: An RP in the World of Avernum |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3022
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written Wednesday, January 14 2004 13:56
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Darchez sat at the table, sipping another glass of cool beer. He wasn't paying. It seemed in recent days that everything was going his way. First, the profitable contract from Hugo. 100 AU per day! And better yet, since only he knew how to make the new fire-chemical the Alliance was deploying, he had endless potential to renegotiate. And now kind strangers are offering to buy beer for him. "So this chemical cannot be reverse-engineered?" "Not at all! The thing is genius, really, a mixture of several different ingredients by a special recipe. Mixed the wrong way, and boom!" "And only you know how to make it?" "Of course, the fewer people know, the more safe the secret is. Without me, they have no chance in hell of making any more than the small batch they are going to load onto the three ships." His benefactor smiled. He didn't see what was funny. "You see, I have certain... friends in certain places. Are you sure you don't want to help us? We'll double whatever Hugo is paying." Darchez shook his head vigorously. Since someone was prepared to pay more, his little invention turned out to be even more valuable than he thought. 200 AU was not enough. "I see." The other man frowned, and handed him another glass of beer. He downed it quickly, spluttering as he tried to talk at the same time. There was a sweet aftertaste he didn't quite catch. Who knows what they put in beer these days. "You see, I'm the best alchemist that has ever lived. I can't risk it, getting into this factions business. Sorry... but ah..." He suddenly felt drowsy, and his head flopped involountarily to the table. Maybe his fatigue and long nights were getting to him. As his eyes began to close for the last time, he wonder why his companion was looking at him with an expression of impatience. --- Terence walked directly through the Alliance military guardpost. A group of heavily armed troops searched him for weapons - of course, he did not have any. No one would dare carry any, not when there is almost an entire army concentrated in this little port complex. Going through the gates, he was checked again. Sniffer dogs this time. He had no idea what he could be carrying that would give off an odor, but the guards carried out their duty with an attitude of complete professionalism. Terence wondered if he should crack a joke, but thought better of it. The final checkpoint was a new one. A couple of bored looking wizards lounged there, and as he stepped reluctantly up to the point, one touched his forehead with a palm, and muttered a brief spell. A mind-test, then. If he meant any harm to Hugo, or any member of the Alliance, he would be nailed there and then. The wizard stepped back. No problem. He didn't mean any real harm - he was playing both sides, and both were paying well enough. He wasn't stupid enough to jeopardise his two incomes, or even his life. And so, he had done his best to ensure all the intelligence he provides were profoundly useless. The wizard made some excuses. Extra security today - the Ilai Hugo and the Dorian Kylen was docked, taking on more ammunition, blah blah. He could see the battleships, and the piled up barrels with mages here and there pleading with the workmen to be more careful. A few meters in, and behind a corner, he dug under a rock as he always did. A scroll! New instructions from the Populist Coalition, then. Strange. The paper was covered with strange symbols that he had never seen before. Yet somehow, he was able to read them, and for some reason, he felt a compulsion to read them out loud. Damnation! A guard had spotted him, and was running towards him. But he had already finished reading, and with a soft whisper, the paper crumbled into dust. A small bolt of super-hot flame darted from his hands towards the nearest pile of barrels. As the conflagaration quickly enveloped the compound, and the stranded Ilai Hugo and Dorian Kylen began to sink below the waves, Terence took the opportunity to swear very very hard. --- When the populist messenger finally arrived at SAFT headquarters, he had an additional message, enclosed in a small, sealed envelope. "Since the Populist Coalition values the continued neutrality and open-mindedness of SAFT, we have taken the liberty of relieving you of some minor annoyances, which you will likely hear of very soon. We have left one challenge remaining for your personal enjoyment." [ Wednesday, January 14, 2004 14:10: Message edited by: FZ ] Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Wednesday, January 14 2004 19:24
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OOC: Schoolworks looming over me...I'll try to do another IC, since it's obvious that I'm lagging behind with the plot once again. But beware, it's 4 AM here (though I feel wide awake after waking up at 3:30; can you tell my sleep patterns are a bit disturbed these days? :P ). IC: It was still dark, at six hours past midnight. The other members of their group — even the assassin, who had looked as if he never needed sleep at all — were almost all trying to catch some sleep before the attack, but Taron found he could not. He had never been able to sleep before fighting. Instead, Taron sat keeping watch, and contemplated. He thought about the Doomguard, and what should be done with it once they were inside. He thought about his principles, the strict morals he had stuck to for all his career, now finally broken. He thought about Jehan Sol, the man he had so utterly misjudged. That time when he rode through Solaria at the front of a procession of soldiers, glorious in his armor and shining red cape, smiling a severe but wise smile that only a true emperor could have on his face. Who then, he thought, had cared about the pay, when they all knew that the emperor they were fighting for was the rightful ruler? Not while he was reading the cargo record, not while he was imprisoned by Vida, and not when Linda had freed him, using the Doomguard as a threat, had he felt for a moment he should betray Sol. Not even in that dark alleyway where he had found Linda shot with his own crossbow, had he contemplated treason. And then, the disappointment. Those five minutes, standing on the balcony as Linda addressed the people below them. Remember Bale... remember Gretal... her exact speech, the towns she had mentioned... In seconds, all had come crashing down. He pictured Jehan Sol again, smiling, and the smile curved upwards, broadened, and became a cruel sneer, distorting his face into a horrible grimace. Yes, that had been the moment when he had realized he was mistaken, and must salvage from his morals and honor what little he could through treason. He thought about the fate of Pralgrad, and the strange mage who was so desperately interested in controlling it. About the role that he played in it. And the Doomguard, and what he should do with it. And his treason, and Jehan Sol. And the fate of Pralgrad, and the mage. And... His thoughts ran in a circle, and he knew it. Any minute now, he would fall asleep. He tried to lean over, and give Bruce, who was lying nearest, a shove to wake him, but did not see if he succeeded, for his eyes were suddenly shut. Taron Gregor Merallion yawned widely, leaning back against the tree he was sitting beside. He stopped, then tried to exhale, but found he could not open his mouth. He breathed out through the nose instead, giving a soft snoring sound. Three seconds later, he was sleeping deeply. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 'Sir?' ... 'Sir!' ... Barely managing to contain a shout, Bruce furiously shook Taron like a sack of oat, as he finally started to stir. He yawned. 'Whaddimeizzit,' he managed to get out, blinking a few times. Then he repeated his query. 'What time is it?' 'I would say it is almost eight hours past midnight now. You can already see the dawn.' Swearing under his breath, Taron woke the others. And that was when he was awake enough to notice his scalp tingling. It had done so, in fact, even before he went to sleep. Taron wondered, but realized it meant that strong magic was near the Doomguard once again. What kind of magic? He uttered a small formula that would allow his to analyze the arcane flow. And swore again. 'They've got a bloody portal.' He quickly told the others. 'We must strike at once, or they will transport it away!' ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Six men could be seen standing in front of the fort. No one knew how they had got this far without alerting the guards. Two of them stood back, while the other four each raised a bow or a crossbow. One guard looked down as he had heard a small noise. 'Bloody hell.' he breathed to his companion, who came to join him. They were about to sound the alarm when there was a whisper of sound, and they fell down, four arrows stuck in them. It was all pretty easy after that. Sneaking their way into the still-sleeping castle and only having to silence the occasional sentry, they quickly moved through the fort. Taron knew the location of the Doomguard, and went towards it at once. He had seen it briefly before, but it was only when it was standing here in the tent that Taron noticed how tall it was. It was at least three meters high. He also knew that he could not retrieve it now. He had to destroy it, and incur the wrath of the unknown mage. Crystal eyes gazing at him. Was a Doomguard self-aware?, Taron thought for a second, then dismissed the foolishness from his mind. Certainly not, when it followed an internal programming. He reached out to trace the crucial lines on the surface of the golem, while muttering the necessary words. This would take at least five minutes. 'Hey!' a voice shouted as he was almost finished. An arrow whizzed towards him and missed, but was followed by another that gashed his left arm. The soldier was dispatched by Feodoric, who was keeping watch, but the ritual had been interrupted. He would now either need to start anew or... A thought hit him. He remembered hours reciting from books of magic lore, mumbling... ...intense magical flames spreading as fast as a grown man can run... a small addition causing it to die as soon as it is touched by the light of day... otherwise it would surely spread and set the entire world ablaze... That, then, was it. He would insert the Phoenix egg from the mage into the service hatch to the knee joint, where it would be crushed once the Doomguard stepped forward. As long as they activated the thing in broad daylight, it would do no other harm as the flames would die after melting the Doomguard. He prayed that they would not activate it in night, especially not early in the night. A grown man could run quite far from Dusk till Dawn. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 'For heaven's sake, Sir, they're coming at us!' Bruce said into his ear even as he heard the sounds of fighting from outside. He pulled a red crystal from his robes. Its smoothly polished surface shimmered softly in the torchlight. Taron caressed it briefly. To think that so much death could be concealed in such a tiny, exquisite jewel... like the doomguard, its outside was deceiving. He put it inside the hatch he had opened in the golem and closed it, five seconds before three more soldiers barged into the tent. 'RETREAT!' Taron shouted even as he and Bruce slashed through the side of the tent and ran out. Hopefully the others would make it. Michael, he saw, did not make it, as three soldiers grouped on him and transformed the Populist into mincemeat with a few strokes, and nor did Feodoric, who received an arrow straight into the back. Time for sorrow later, he thought as he swallowed. They were out of the fort, racing for their mounts. Taron mounted Michael's horse and left the lizard behind. Was it tactless to make the best out of his death this way? He dismissed the thought as they galloped away to the East as quickly as possible. A portal. He must report to Linda at once; this might be useful. He realized he had not taken off the linking spell from the Doomguard. And he had intended too. Why? He tried frantically to remember what it was he had remembered about portals that prompted him to end the spell. The tingling in his skull grew sharper, stronger. More teleporting magic, and closer to the Doomguard. The tingling gave way to a sharp sting in his jaw muscles, as Taron felt pressure rising in his ears. He cursed himself, and urged his horse onwards. 'Quickly! We must be out of range before...' Before they teleport it through, he wanted to say, but could not because his mind was quite suddenly on fire. Fool! Fool! Fool! Foo... his ears seemed to sing. Then he did not feel anything, and his mind slipped away into darkness. Bruce, Ronald and the assassin muttered as they rode on, the unconscious mercenary tied onto his horse. He would wake up with a splitting headache, and Linda shouting at him for failing to bring the Doomguard. Or worse, the mage would come to shout at him. He would not survive *that*. 'Them blasted mages. They always find a way to knock themselves out, don't they?' ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ [ Thursday, January 15, 2004 14:27: Message edited by: Arancaytar ] -------------------- Nasty trickster stalking the web! 406 victims! " "It is as if everyone had lost their sense Consigned themselves to downfall and decadence And a wisp it is they have chosen as their beacon." Reinhard Mey. The Encyclopædia Ermariana is growing. ;) Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Infiltrator
Member # 2242
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written Thursday, January 15 2004 13:57
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OOC: That was quick. Arancaythar, is your character dead or just unconcious? A soldier reported in to Captain Kevin and reported that a small group broke into the fort in an attempt to steal the doomguard but failed. They had retreated, and where nowhere to be found. Kevin gave his unit new orders, to ride north back to the capital to report the situation. OOC: Fixed my post. But wouldn't the Solarian Mages just scry the Doomguard and find the crystal? They would scry it to make sure it's ok right? [ Friday, January 16, 2004 15:57: Message edited by: Firedrake the Silent ] -------------------- "He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster... when you gaze long into the abyss the abyss also gazes back into you." -Friedrich Nietzsche Posts: 469 | Registered: Thursday, November 14 2002 08:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Thursday, January 15 2004 14:17
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OOC: Nononononooo. Sorry, I was being terribly obscure. 1. Taron is not dead. He passed out from the mental jolt resulting from an object linked to his mind (the doomguard) being subjugated to a teleport spell (passing through a portal). What he remembered from his books was that teleporting an object after the link spell is cast on it breaks the link and sends the mind linked to the object into shock. He was hoping to get out of range first, but that was hopeless of course. 2. The doomguard did not explode. What caused Taron's unconsciousness was the portal. I assumed that once the fort's guards had chased off the intruders and found the doomguard unharmed, they would teleport it safely away. 3. What Taron did to the doomguard was not visible. He inserted a small crystal in it that will destroy it as soon as it is activated by causing a hot fire inside it which will melt the Doomguard. 4. The bit of quoting from the book refers to Quickfire. I modified it to die in daylight, since it would destroy the world if it did not. To summarize: When the doomguard is activated, it will step forward. Its knee joint will bend, crushing the crystal that is tucked inside the mechanism. Quickfire will spread through the dark interior of the golem, melting it. Once it is destroyed and the Quickfire is no longer covered by the outer layers, it will subside. Unless it is activated in the night. Please don't activate it in the night. You should understand why. I edited my IC post to clear it up a bit. [ Thursday, January 15, 2004 14:34: Message edited by: Arancaytar ] -------------------- Nasty trickster stalking the web! 406 victims! " "It is as if everyone had lost their sense Consigned themselves to downfall and decadence And a wisp it is they have chosen as their beacon." Reinhard Mey. The Encyclopædia Ermariana is growing. ;) Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
Member # 3151
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written Thursday, January 15 2004 22:44
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Emperor Hugo had been well-known for his composture as Emperor, even in hard times. Now was one of the hardest. After a string of unprintable bons mots, he fixed his gaze at Karadas. The old rival jerked back a bit; the glare carried a sort of desperately shed invincibility. "I am going to kill them," he says, the most lucid thing he's said since he heard the news. "I am going to kill them all with my bare goddamn hands. I'm going to have every last Populist we catch bled from the knees. Karadas, get my internal advisor." Karadas nodded numbly, and pulled a half-bald, pudgy nobleman into the room. "Jothal, how the hell could this happen?" "What do you mean, sir?" Emperor Hugo proceeds to smash the advisor's neck with his elbow. The beauraucrat, trying to shriek but managing only a strangled grunt, is thrown to the floor. The Emperor draws his sword and begins stabbing. "Traitor! Incompetent! Traitor! Incompetent! Traitor! Incompetent!" The words blend together in the whistling, cackling shriek the Emperor gives out. The choking screams and wails stop after the fifth blow or so. He continues ripping the advisor apart for some time. "Hugo!" Emperor Hugo looks at his old rival with a mixture of hardwired lucidity and base fury. "What?" "He's dead. What the hell was that for?" "I'll tell you what it's for -- he was going to lie to me. Jothal always resented me, but he got right to whatever he thought the problem was. He didn't; he either didn't know enough to deserve to live, much less be an Imperial advisor, or he knew too much." Hugo smiles broadly. "I've got a plan, I think." "What plan would that be?" "Have them send out more diplomats to Warderson and the SAFT's leader. Tell them that my demands still stand, despite the number of ships I have being tragically reduced from seven to five." Karadas stares at him numbly. "Five? We only have one, sir." "That's where you're wrong!" The Emperor lets out a terrifying, baying laugh. "Those bastards hit the big ships, but there's still little ones. I'll be damned if there aren't little ones. The Populists need to pay, yes, yes they do. We're going to make them pay, you and I, like we did out over the hills." "Eh, what do you mean?" "What we did was small bread back then. Bushwhacking. Guerilla work. Now we're going to kill their chief ally. We're going to kill Jehann Sol and parade through the streets of Imperius with his Godforsaken head on a pike!" The Emperor gives out another one of those cackling laughs. Karadas fights back a shudder. "We're going to catch him when he does one of his little heroic rides into battle. His aristocratic proponents enjoy that pomp-and-circumstance nonsense, but we need to show them that we have no use for it, and that traitors to the Empire will SUFFER!" The last word he bellows out for all the world to hear. "The catapults! We'll be leading whatever the Populists and their bootlickers haven't taken from us, along with all the catapults we can spare, and we're going to crush the Solarans! Crush them and grind our boots on their godforsaken ashes!" "V... very well, sir." "You are dismissed, Karadas. You have orders. You will have more. Goodbye." The Emperor goes from abjectly mad to perfectly lucid in one sentence, and sits back at his throne, still soaked in the blood of one of his advisors. [ Thursday, January 15, 2004 22:47: Message edited by: General Secretary Custer ] -------------------- ¡Viva Chile! ¡Viva el Pueblo! ¡Vivan los Trabajadores! Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Shaper
Member # 517
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written Friday, January 16 2004 09:27
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Gideon Ironclad slowly began to realise why the other faction leaders hadn't come in person to see Warderson. He had been here a week now, and only seen the general once more. He wasn't actually being treated like a prisoner, but he suspected that was mainly because he hadn't actually tried to leave yet. The trouble was, the AIA was enormous. Even the garrison in Southport was almost a match for the Ironclad army. Mind you, most of it was still sleeping on the transport ships, ready to be sent out against the Populists when the general commanded. But there was not a hope of Gideon doing a thing that Warderson didn't want him to. And it appeared that at the moment, Warderson didn't want him to do anything. === General Warderson, at that moment, was in conference. 'We've recieved yet more letters. Letters from Sol, letters from Hugo, even one from the Western Populists that got past Sol and Hugo by a minor miracle. But none of them wants peace. Hugo and Sol have both officially branded the other as Populists, which means we practically have to declare war on one or the other at some point. Ironclad is fairly quiescent, but he sees the others as rebels, not as serious Imperial candidates. What he'll do when we tell him we're making a choice, I don't know. SAFT, thank goodness, are staying well out of the way-they have been helping Sol and Ironclad to a degree, but trying to give no-one their loyalty. Not an attitude I admire, but easier on us, at least for the moment-the Imperial Navy is entirely in our hands, and as long as SAFT remain undeclared it's probably our biggest asset. What the Populists want, I don't know, although I've sent an emissary to find out.' At this point Major Pilek interrupts, laughing. 'An emissary, is it? Only in the third largest ship of the Navy, with three mages and half a company as his personal bodyguard. If you'd consulted us before sending him, I'd have warned you off. To Hugo or Sol that might seem a reasonable bodyguard in these troubled times. To those peasants it will seem like an invasion.' 'I disagree.' 'You always disagree, Tarem. Why am I wrong, then?' 'The Populists over in the west are a completely different group from the ones we've been dealing with. Ours are disorganised, desperate by now, and deserting their cause in droves. Plus, they were never more than opportunists to begin with, raiding defenceless villages to pick up a bit of booty when they could. In the west, they started out the same, but now they are a significant force, even an army. In addition, while we've been doing our best to win the people over by restoring what peace we can, Sol rules by fear, and the western Populists' ranks swell as fast as the easteners decrease. They would have nothing to fear from those on the Pride of Imperius if they truly were an invasion force. They know it, and they know we know it.' 'Thank you, Tarem. However, the important question remains. How do we solve this in the most peacable fashion possible? There's already been enough death and destruction.' There is silence for a while. Then Tarem speaks again. 'General, I think the problem we're facing can be summed up very quickly and easily: none of the Imperial candidates is capable.' 'Actually, I would say they all were. Sol's a brilliant general, and Hugo's not far behind him. Ironclad may not be up to much, but he's...well, he's inspiring. I don't know why, but I wouldn't want to betray him. And nor do the people, for that matter. Look how White Peak stayed loyal, when declaring for one of the other factions would have ended the war there and then.' 'I don't dispute any of that. The fact is, none of them could end the war without massive destruction. Sol only knows how to rule by fear, and his only way of transferring loyalty to himself is to kill until he's done it. Hugo's a guerrilla by background-lives don't matter to him. And Gideon Ironclad, whatever there is to recommend him, is just not an asministrator.' 'Well? Now you've laid out the problem, what's your suggestion?' 'General, why shouldn't you be the next Emperor?' OOC: Brown is under strong AIA control, orange is average.  -E- -------------------- Let them eat cake! Polaris Boards: The misc board's thriving, and there're plenty good RPs. Join now! H00rj! Posts: 2314 | Registered: Tuesday, January 15 2002 08:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3022
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written Friday, January 16 2004 11:43
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At dawn, the silent group, the remnants of Taron's little squad arrived, sneaking slowly through Solaran guardposts, avoiding detection from watchtowers, meandering from populist outpost to populist outpost. There was a great many of them, having been formed into a highly decentralised pattern to protect from a sudden assault. By the time they reached the command camp, word had long spread of their return. Linda ran forward in hope and joy, wishing to greet Taron in their success. But she stopped when she saw how the men were silent, how one of them was pale, and strapped to his horse... Her shock turned to anger... and grief? "Damn the bastards! Damn them all!" She cried out. "You know why I hate them? Because they are all the same. Sol, Hugo, you name it, they are all the same. They don't care if the people starve, the country goes to hell. They don't care if one man, a hundred men, die for them, die for some not worth dying for. Their lives are that of killing, of grabbing power, and when they have devoured everything, they devour themselves! Even the madmen to the East, they are like that too. They think nothing of stabbing each other in the back, nothing of what will happen if they win. They raid merchants, burn crops. They are all killers, curse them all!" She sighed. There were tears, and she did not wish for the others to see them. "Well I care! Maybe that's our weakness, but that's who we are! And we will not stop until we find each one of those power-hungry men, those devourers of life and tear them apart!" There was a sound which interupted her, and with great effort, she could focus on it. It was a wheezing noise, a pathetic sound. She stood in silence as the unconcious Taron struggled to breathe. And struggled to breathe. And struggled to breathe. --- There was no wound, and the priests and doctors did not know what Taron's condition was, let alone how to deal with it. But he seemed to be in no immediate peril, and with some strong herbs and gentle smacking he was brought back into a painful awareness. Linda had taken the time to compose herself, and adopt a tone of anger. After a while, they were able to relay what happened since their last meeting. "So you were able to destroy the Doomguard?" "I told you, I inserted the pheonix egg. The thing is as good as destroyed." A look of sudden concern came over Linda. "Does it not seem too convenient for this mage to provide you with precisely the tool to destroy what I thought almost impossible to destroy?" "Meaning?" "Meaning, I don't know if that is destroyed after all. There is a strong chance that all you did was install a control crystal, or something else. It may not destroy the doomguard after all, and do something unpredictable." But there was nothing they could do, for now. The doomguard was out of their hands, and if it wasn't destroyed, then whatever it did was the Solarans' problem. They continued to the next issue. "I thank you greatly for delivering this secret to me. This secret, it gives us a chance now and with the recent changes around Praglad, a choice that can change everything. As we speak, an elite strike team is retrieving it for us. The camp had relied on secrecy for safety, but now we know its location... I am already have preliminary reports of a success. But now we have a real problem. What to do with the choices we suddenly have. I wanted to strike Solaria, because it was close and our men were predisposed to attacking it. But this teleporter isn't just a weapon, it's a bargaining chip. Sol is still viable, especially as the Alliance would provide a distraction. And we can find out what did happen with the doomguard. Or we can hit Hugo. He is perhaps even worse than Sol, and his hiring and firing had made him enemies within. He is too blinkered to see the threat, and our successes have shaken him to the core. Taking Imperius, now that his attention is focused on Sol, would be a great boost to our cause. But there are other options. Vida may put aside her personal hatred, and aid us more actively. Ironclad... I thought him an innocent whose nobility was hidden by his councillors once, but now I am less sure. And Warderson, he is sending emmissaries to us, which should arrive soon. He is a wise man, perhaps, but he knows too little of the machinations of politics. And if he grows too headstrong, learns to love his power too much, we will have to fight him. He would be a worthy foe, but then he must die. So what should we do? Flip a coin? Tell me Taron, for I may have run out of ideas." EDIT: Reduced power of teleporter. [ Friday, January 16, 2004 15:51: Message edited by: FZ ] Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
Member # 3151
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written Friday, January 16 2004 12:01
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Linda was surprised to see a man in formal armor enter the tent. "Who the hell are you?" Unflappable, just like Hugo... was. "Karadas. General Karadas, of the Imperial Army." "The Imperial Army? ...Karadas? You're Ironcladian, aren't you?" "I fought for Ironclad because I thought he could save us from the Solarans' banditry. My family has been hurt by the Solarans before; had I known that Ironclad would spend his efforts trying to smash Kylen and make a relative peace with Sol, and then go over and be the pirates' puppet, I would have thrown in for Kylen the moment Hugo's forces hit the gates." "You're a Hugoist, now? Explain why you aren't dead by now, and why you shouldn't be." "Because I fought with plenty of your men, Linda." Karadas smirks. "They fought oppression where they saw it, and so have I. We went our separate ways because of what I thought about the eastern Populists. What I think about the Western populists is different, or at least it is after the time I've had to reflect on it." "You're defecting?" "No." Linda arched an eyebrow. Most men would trip over themselves to say yes, and then try to leave as soon as they got the chance. Quite a few Solaran officers had died that way. "I'm here to make you an offer, Linda." "What offer is that?" "Warderson doesn't consider us a viable candidate for Imperial succession. My principal still believes he does, and that error may well ruin him. He's fighting the Solarans desperately, and unless something is done, he'll probably die well short of his goal." "And what goal is that?" "Killing Sol." Karadas smirks again. "Quite a thing to have two ruling Emperors fighting each other to the death, wouldn't it be?" "I'd agree, but you know my position on Emperors." "I'm not here, officially. I'm still in a camp in the southern part of Kylenian territory. But I have Emperor Hugo's ear, and I can easily make him change quite a few existing policies." Linda nodded. Karadas wasn't stupid, then; officially, that would look like a rogue officer making an impolitic statement of fact, not a Hugoite official offering an alliance to the Populists. "Who's going to eat whom?" "Do you even have to ask, Linda? You must know that, even were Hugo and every officer above the rank of colonel in this half of the continent to drop dead now, the Populists would have no chance at winning the war. The Imperial Army would crush them like ants. If you rejoined the Kylenian faction, we'd make plenty of concessions." "Like?" "Hugo has been planning a written code for weeks now. This would give him the chance he needs to make it official." Linda takes in a sharp breath. Two Emperors had made written codes before; they both ended with their writers' deaths, and consisted mostly of 'do what the Emperor says or suffer'. But the implication was that the Populists could have a hand in writing the code, and make it stick, if Hugo won the war. Linda blinks. "You have two options. I'm leaving this camp now; you can send a man after me, or you can send a man for me. If you do the latter, I can guarantee you and your ideals will die in obscurity at the hands of the Solarans and Ironcladians. Good day, madam." Karadas exits the tent as gracefully as he entered it. ... -------------------- ¡Viva Chile! ¡Viva el Pueblo! ¡Vivan los Trabajadores! Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Friday, January 16 2004 16:07
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IC: Taron had been about to reply to Linda when the tent flap had opened and Karadas had entered and introduced himself. Taron, like Linda, had heard of this General before, who had fought for Ironclad, survived two simultaneous assassination attempts, then been captured by the Eastern Populists and allied with Hugo just in time before Kylen was killed leaving the way free for Hugo to declare himself sovereign. While Linda spoke, Taron remained quiet; it might be best not to let the general know his position here right now. For now, let him believe he was only a bodyguard. As soon as Karadas had exited, Taron blurted out. 'I wouldn't trust that one. He's trying to play us against Sol, so he can pick up the pieces afterwards. Besides, from what I've heard about Hugo, he'd an emperor little better than Sol: A militarist, who rules by violence. That's what we were against, wasn't it?' 'I didn't intend to trust him. He and his emperor can go to blazes, for all I care. A written code? We would get that opportunity just as well if we win by ourselves, and there's no meddling emperor then. And what about that portal? You wanted to say something before he came in, right?' 'Er, yes.' Taron's eyes suddenly were drawn towards the floor. 'I'm afraid redirecting the portal will be harder than you think. Unless they have a control mechanism built in, it'll be beyond either of us. And a mage constructing a portal just for one purpose will rarely go to the trouble of adding such a mechanism.' He paused for a while. 'The Crystal might indeed be fake. It is possible to forge such an artifact. But I don't believe it can do more damage than the mage could by himself.' He proceeded to relate his encounter with the curious black-robed wizard, and the confusion about his motives. 'He seems almost to be helping us, while at the same time impeding us. What is that man up to?' He reached into his tunic and took out the other two things the mage had given him -- the black crystal, and the mysterious package. 'If you can find out what these are, it might reveal something else about what that mage wants.' [ Friday, January 16, 2004 16:17: Message edited by: Arancaytar ] -------------------- Nasty trickster stalking the web! 406 victims! " "It is as if everyone had lost their sense Consigned themselves to downfall and decadence And a wisp it is they have chosen as their beacon." Reinhard Mey. The Encyclopædia Ermariana is growing. ;) Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
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written Friday, January 16 2004 17:10
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"I'm trapped again, aren't I?" "...No, my liege. At least, not yet." Gideon Ironclad sighed, frustrated. Sure, Warderson was letting his messages through to the Imperial Army; the eastern Populists were getting more and more violent, but the eastern side of Pralgrad was, in general, growing less chaotic by the day. The White Peak army was either well-trained, lucky, or both. Their original momentum had swept much of the opposition away, and allowed them to take the lands in the first place. But where most armies would degenerate into organized gangs of rapists, thieves, and vandals, the White Peak army had not. The constant fighting to the west was keeping them on their toes, and the constant fighting with the Populists gave them something to do. And also, the more politically-minded soldiers were not so sure that this new factor, the Aizoan Invasion Army, was such a good thing for their Emperor. "I haven't seen anyone but my own personal guards, the servants, and Warderson for days. This reminds me of my time with the council. The White Peak generals are in charge of the army, not me. Unless my time here somehow affects Warderson's decision, I am redundant." "Well, what do you want to do, my liege?" Kellen asked. "Go somewhere. I hardly care where. I'm getting sick of this room. I am the Emperor, I can do what I want." "Then let us go speak with Warderson." ***** "Our people have much to gain from each other," said the Populist, out of breath. "Oh, I can see it now! A contract sitting on the table - anarchy in exchange for order! Poverty for wealth! Destruction for development! And, of course, as the glorious Emperor, clad in silver and gold, shakes hands with your dirty bastard of a master, trying not to touch the rags, we can gain the best of all - life for death!" Shouting this last word, Lucas plunged his knife into the Populist's chests and twisted. The shocked, tortured eyes quickly glazed over, and Lucas wrenched his knife free. "The last of those scum," he muttered to himself, wiping his blade on the dead man's cloak. "The river is ours. The south is ours. Those Populist scum thought they could take our land, they thought they could take our power; let's see how well they do without those damned rabble-rousing leaders." He spat. "Now for the north..." Taking the dead Populist leader's weapons and gold, Lucas set off for the Ironcladist fort nearby. EDIT: OOC: Omlette, I can't see the image you posted. [ Friday, January 16, 2004 17:11: Message edited by: Sir David ] -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon TEH CONSPIRACY IZ ALL Les forum de la chance. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
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Lifecrafter
Member # 3320
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written Friday, January 16 2004 22:21
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OOC: I hope I am not compromising anyone's plans with this post. Let me know if I did. IC: Petoria wakes up the next day after having a good long rest to ebb away the strain of her study over the piece of cloth. Once again, Belmont has risen before her and is nowhere to be found. She goes about the usual freshening up routine and eventually makes her way out into the bar. Petoria: (Motioning to the barkeep) "Barkeep, I would like a jug of ale to take with me please." Barkeep: (Brightening at the prospect of a new sale) "Yes, madam. Here you go." She pays him, packs it away in her knapsack with a glass or two, and heads out the door. No sooner is she out the door than a hansom pulls up. Looking inside she can see the mayor beckoning to her to climb in. With a groan, she makes her way into the seat beside him and they are off. The mayor quickly gets right down to his reason for picking her up. Mayor Flagstaff: (Looking at her with slight panic and concern in his eyes) "Petoria, I am very sorry to have to snatch you up like this but we have a new concern to worry about." Petoria: (With confusion and concern on her face) "What has happened? Are you switching from Neutral to Populist? Are we going to be attacked? What is going on? It must be something more unusual. You wouldn't pick me up like this if it wasn't something in my field." Mayor Flagstaff: (Looking around outside the cab) "Well, it's kind of hard to explain. Here are the facts as told to me by Winston. They were given to him by a guard on duty early this morning just as the sun was about to rise." Petoria: (Impatiently) "And?" Mayor Flagstaff: (Noticing her impatience) "Well, it seems that there was a flash of light out close to the woods leading to the border where the Ferry is and a dark-cloaked figure appeared out of nowhere. He headed towards the city and the guard could see that he was driving a horse-drawn wagon with some big bulky object in a crate in the cart. But as he went into a dip on the plains really close to the city, he just vanished from sight. No one knows where he went or who he was, but the description matches that of our mysterious mage, Ayin." Petoria: (Slightly puzzled) "And just where do I come into the picture? What can I do?" Mayor Flagstaff: "Well, I figured that you should know about it. That's all. (With a mischievous smile) Up for a drive around the city and the plains?" Petoria: (With a chuckle) "I knew it. You want me to look into it. All right. Let's have a look at the area where he vanished from." With that, the mayor tells the driver to take them out to the plains for a drive. The mayor instructs him that he will act as guide and direct him to where he wants to go. And off they go. -------------------- "Keep your wits about you, the game is afoot!" - Sherlock Holmes Mrs. Peacock: "Everything all right?" Colonel Mustard: "Yep, two corpses, everthing's fine." "What do you think I asked you here for? COMPANY?!!!" - Bette Davis Posts: 935 | Registered: Friday, August 8 2003 07:00 |
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Triad Mage
Member # 7
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 05:09
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Mages in Solaria were dispatched to close the portal and examine and attempt to control the doomguard. They brought it down to a small courtyard next to an annex of the Solarian Palace. Sealing the doors with magical barriers, they began an incantation and removed the first instruction scroll. A second incantation ensued, and their own instruction scroll was entered. Testing it, one of the mages ordered it to move to the corner of the room. Then all hell broke loose. The phoenix egg was crushed, and quickfire enveloped the room. The doomguard melted under the intense heat, and the mages ran to the exits. It was then that they realized the folly in sealing the doors. Or the brilliance. They had sacrificed their own lives to save all of Solaria. When morning came, and an orderly came down to offer the mages some tea, he found the courtyard still sealed by magical barriers, and he heard no movement or talking on the inside. He ran to get another mage to dispel the barriers, and the sight that greeted them was horrific. Six charred corpses up against the entrances, bones twisted and melted, screamed silently for escape. In the center of the courtyard, amongst the burnt trees and ashes, stood a lump of metal and crystal - the last remains of the doomguard. When Jehan Sol found out about the tragedy, he was upset, but he recognized that now nobody on Pralgrad would be able to use the doomguard for battle and butchering. heaving a sigh of relief, he began to set out on a plan of action. Now that the doomguard was safely gone, he could bring the full force of his army against Hugo's forces and the Populists without much fear of them unleashing a horrible weapon of destruction. He called for a squire to saddle his horse and prepare his armor. The Solarans were marching to war. General Frederic met with Commandant Krilon for the first time since he was dispatched to raid Ironclad territory. They planned for a show of force and and complete and total annihilation of the small forces gathered at Lincoln. The Kylenians - or Hugoites, now - had been completely ravished by Solaran and Populist armies and were basically a non-factor. The Populists had been hurt by the Solarans and Hugoites as well, and they were extremely short on numbers and training to begin with. At high noon, the Imperial Solaran Army descended on the village of Lincoln. Archers from the ramparts felled some soldiers, until they themselves were dispatched by crossbowmen and Solaran archers. Burning arrows and firestorms broke and burned through the gate and walls, as the Solarans swept through, with Jehan Sol in their midst. Bloody urban fighting began to break out, as the cavalry was quickly rendered useless, and men jumped down from their horses and drew their swords. The Populists fell back to the major merchant district in Lincoln, erecting hasty barriers and the few mages that were there lobbed spells over the barricades. It didn't do much slow down the Solarans. Their superior training, numbers, and weaponry won the day. The last vestiges of Populist resistance left in the form of Linda, Taron, and their bodyguards fleeing back to the south, pursued by the remaining Solaran cavalry. The Hugoites, meanwhile, had withdrawn from Lincoln and established a camp, where they had entertained Karadas, who left with the best of them. The only Hugoists remaining were poorly armed and without any military training. The Solarans and fleeing Populists cut them down with no troubles. The Solaran push did not stop at Lincoln. Frederic marched his armies south, while Krilon marched his east, and they liberated more Populist and Hugoist cities to the rule of Jehan Sol the Benevolent. Stopping before they were stretched too thin, the Solaran armies pulled back to familiar defensive stances, albeit much more reinforced and further south (and east) than before. Jehan Sol (the Benevolent) was still astride his horse when he led some of the Solarans back to the interior of Solaran territory. However, when he dismounted, it was apparent that he had sustained a grievous wound. He was holding his side, where a sword had found its way between the plates of his armor. Hands stained blood red, he sought the attention of a priest, while the soldiers marveled at their leader. "Who among imperial candidates is like you, Jehan Sol? Who is like you, Jehan Sol, glorious in holiness, awesome in praises, doing miracles? With a new song, the ones you rescued praised Your name at Lincoln All of them in unison gave thanks and praised your rule, and said: 'Jehan Sol will reign for ever and ever.'" Jehan Sol emerged from the priest's tent haggard and doubled over, but he glowed with a radiance never before seen by his soldiers. Solaran soldiers were the only Imperial soldiers payed in full (and extra) during wartimes, due to the extreme profitability of the House Sol and its leader's acknowledgment of the military life. Now, after leading them in battle even with a wound, he became more than a man to them. He was a hero, and they would follow him to the ends of the earth. The regular Solarans, not just those in the military, gained immense respect for him as well. While his life meant so much to the Solaran movement, he had risked it all to rid the earth of the pesky Populists, and he had done it with class and honor. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Jehan Sol the Benevolent was the only man for the Empire. (OOC: Another map is coming.) -------------------- "At times discretion should be thrown aside, and with the foolish we should play the fool." - Menander ==== Drakefyre's Demesne - Vahnatai Did Do It desperance.net - We're Everywhere The Arena - God Will Sort The Dead ==== You can take my Mac when you pry my cold, dead fingers off the mouse! Posts: 9436 | Registered: Wednesday, September 19 2001 07:00 |
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Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 07:24
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(OOC: On the map: the Ironcladist forces control basically the entire eastern half of Pralgrad, but there are still Eastern Populists in that land, and Warderson, and probably part of the Alliance... I don't know how you're going to show the Populists, though, without some sort of shading or hatch marks or something...) -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon TEH CONSPIRACY IZ ALL Les forum de la chance. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3022
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 08:42
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It was a great surprise when the Solarans struck. The spread out nature of the Populist army help absorb most of the blow, and where a conventional army would be destroyed, they were merely smashed. But that was scant consolation. But communications was still intact. With some effort, and from another little camp well out of the way, they took a quick roll call. Lincoln Garrison: Surrounded and surrendered. All killed. 1st Division: 40 killed, hiding in hills. 2nd Division: Down to half strength, lying low in nearby towns. 3rd Division: Missing. And so it went. Division aftr division. It would be impossible to gather them up again. Fortunately, the advancing Solarans did not touch the core reserves - either they knew nothing of them, or they were too concerned with conquering territory to realise that this is not how the populists fight. Linda laughed at word of "Sol the Benevolent". But those conquests were perhaps beneficial to them, too. The Solarans, reliant on a large core to smash their enemy, were weakened by having to keep so many garrisons. And beneath the sycophants' cooning, refugees were fleeing under the cover of darkness, many to join the Coalition's cause. Still others, under the cover of swearing fealty to Sol, plotted vengeance. Ex-populists began to flood SAFT recruitment, melting back into the jobs they left, becoming invisible to the unaware Solaran searchers. The Populists were not well trained in fighting, but surviving, taking advantage of disasters was something born into them. And while the Solarans were concentrating on attacking south, word was spread northwards, gossip of Solaran lies and Populist martyrs. Whenever the local garrisons tried to crack down, the offenders were never to be found. Everyone was ready to sing Sol's praises. And there were texts, too, copied by underground scribes and distributed by thieves guilds and merchantry. None were genuine, of course, and the tale soon were blown out of all proportion. Tales spread of Taron the Dragonslayer, Linda the Great Wizard and so on. Some collaborating writers and philosophers composed the Republican Codex, and word of it spread from the lowest peasantry to even high orders of government. And so, beneath a cover of victory, a rot began to grow at the heart of the Solaran faction. And when the mages arrived to close down the portal, they found the receiver missing, the camp empty. Some said it was destroyed, but others said that the populists have taken it, and are preparing a triumphant return. And when the Solarans assaulted their backup command camp, they spotted a lone ship, sporting AIA colours, speeding rapidly southeastwards towards the new AIA bases. In the words of the Republican Codex: "They may kill us, they may toss our children into dark wet pits, but the light of hope is always alive. And as long as we hold the path in our hearts, as long as we do not allow ourselves to be corrupted, we will succeed. Even from Avernum, the land of the dead, we will win." Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |
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Triad Mage
Member # 7
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 09:49
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Some objections: The portal was closed at the Solaria end. Having a receiver will not get you anywhere. Also, 95% of Solarans genuinely do like Sol. You can't take an infinite supply of people from my territories - most of the Populist sympathizers have already run off to join them. Also, the Solarans are not hurt by maintaining more garrisons at this time, as they have just received a huge influx of troops from Frederic. For as many people are become new Populist sympathizers because of the stories and battles, twice as many have turned their hearts irrevocably against the Populists - half for Jehan Sol's inspirational victories, and half for resentment that the Populists have been causing war, which they don't like. Sol's response is because of the Populists' provocation, which is how almost everyone sees it. And as for SAFT - new Solaran ships are suspiciously absent of SAFT members. Only the older ships, created at the time of the agreement, carry SAFT representatives. The rest are sequestered and deemed 'military property' and not touched by SAFT. -------------------- "At times discretion should be thrown aside, and with the foolish we should play the fool." - Menander ==== Drakefyre's Demesne - Vahnatai Did Do It desperance.net - We're Everywhere The Arena - God Will Sort The Dead ==== You can take my Mac when you pry my cold, dead fingers off the mouse! Posts: 9436 | Registered: Wednesday, September 19 2001 07:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3022
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 10:18
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OOC: The portal was not closed on the solaran end. By the time the Solarans went to shut it off, the apparatus at the solaran end had already been removed. The solarans are not going over to the populists wholesale. But dissent is spreading, and new ideas are coming in from the ex-populists. And there is always the 5%... Even if they are not greatly hurt, they are still hurt to a degree. How much is another question. Needless to say, the lands outside of Solaran home territory are much harder to hold. Is it? The populists have only taken one Solaran town, Lincoln, and done so bloodlessly. Subsequent conquests by Hugoists and Solarans have caused far more suffering. In the short term, there may be a flush of victory-fever, but in the long term, populist fervour, the populist ideal does not so easily die. Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3377
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 10:31
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The basement, for all that it was carved out of stone well below the water level, was dry, warm and luxurious. It had all the trappings of high nobility: soft furs, rich woods, gold and silver. No flaws could be seen by the firelight, and anyone who entered would have a hard time noticing that the items were all second-hand, much of it liberated from some Court noble's ship when the previous Emperor had been alive. Now the unknown noble, long forgotten and dead in the wars, lent his expensive taste to SAFT. The seven who lounged in the various leather sofas scattered about the room looked - not uncomfortable, exactly, for these seven lived by making everything theirs - but out of place. The few who had been in town for longer wore clothing that would have done any aristocrat or successful merchant proud. But the others were on land for the first day in weeks or months, and their appearance was salt-encrusted and hard. Vida studied each one as she handed out the goblets full of amber liquor. These Captains were the real power behind SAFT. Each one had made a name for themselves on the open water, as had she. Sailors all, pirates if the truth be known, ruthless enough to take what they wanted, canny enough to know when to take it. But of all of them, only Collinegan had been so arrogant and reckless in his pursuits that the previous Empire had placed a price on his head large enough to buy a decent estate. They had all mellowed over the years since the conception of SAFT. The organisation, with its legality and widespread contacts, had provided them with more opportunity than they had originally imagined, while maintaining the freedom from law and land that they were used to. "When were you planning to tell us about this?" Noraj asked eventually. Hier thick Aizoan rumble was grating. "When it became important enough," Vida replied. "So. The Imperial weasels have been begging for us one by one. You've done a good job, lass, in keepin' our heads above water. But it's time to raise sails, we're thinkin'." "Imperial Navy. Sounds good t' me." Vida turned to this last speaker, surprised. "I would have thought you most of all profited out of this war." Shrugging, Collinegan offered her a gap-toothed grin. "Aye. Anarchy's all very excitin', but pickings are goin' dry. The fish ain't feelin' safe, an' they won't until they've got a weasel sittin' on the throne. Once they feel they've got law an' order, they'll come back outa their holes." "Besides," another Captain spoke, stroking his well-trimmed and braided beard. "Get us Imperial Trade as well, and it'll be worth it. Now, which one do we go for?" Vida was delighted, though it never showed in her expression. She'd gone over this again and again in her head, but she'd never thought the Captains would agree so quickly. Of course, it had taken nearly a full day of speaking on her part to accomplish this. "Sol is not an option. Hugo is crazier than you lot. I don't see Linda and her lot lasting long, even if they succeeded in getting rid of the throne. Ironclad is manipulable. There's just one problem, a soldier who seems a great deal smarter than his liege. He's the real force behind Ironclad's decisions. Warderson... we'll see." "Speakin' of Sol," Collinegan drawled. "bout time we paid 'im back, don't ye think?" There was a growl of agreement from the Captains. Sol's indiscriminate purge of Populist centres had taken more than a few of SAFT's safe harbours, not to mention a lot of relatives of the Sailors. The Captains themselves had long ago cut off any personal connections to outsiders, but even the blackest heart amongst them listened to their crew, and SAFT looked after its own. The expressions on the faces of the Captains and Vida as they laid out the details were nearly identical: predatory, fierce, and afire with the excitement that comes with planning a raid. _____________________________________ The Populist refugees that came running into SAFT offices were quickly and easily dispersed into nondescript locations. To the great surprise of a few, they were not charged a single coin, but most were certain in their own beliefs and desperate enough that they did not question their good fortune. Solaran enquiries were made and deflected with all the dexterity that the SAFT emissary had at his command. And Linda found one night a note left on her desk where she was almost certain none could intrude without her knowledge; it bore the message that payment had been rendered, and was anonymous save for the feather that lay across it, plucked from the wing of an albatross. ______________________________________ One ship. One large, proud battleship was all that was left of the fledgling Alliance fleet. After the fire that had consumed the others, she had been ordered to drop anchor far out in the bay. Now her sails were furled; she rocked peacefully against the swell, seeming ghostly in the evening fog that drifted in around her. The air was cold and still that night; it did not take long before sight of the remaining battleship was lost to the guardpost on land. Her crew was at ease. She was, after all, the largest and most powerful ship ever built. What could possibly harm her, in her own territory? And so they laughed and gamed or slept, and those on watch prepared themselves for the long shift. The watchers never saw the pirates that crept up the anchoring ropes and slipped silently onto the deck. Each one fell to garotte or well-placed knife, and the deck was taken without sound. The two mages were next; alone in their darkened cabin, intensely interested only in each other, they had only a moment of surprise to note the door opening before the swift attack came. The captain had the uneasy feeling that something was not right aboard his ship, and opened his door in time to see his guards dropping. He shouted then in surprise and spun about to carry out his orders, drawing his cutlass. He was no mean fighter, but in the close confines of the narrow compartment he did not have the space necessary to defend against three opponents. The Hugoist sailors had roused by this time; the fighting that broke out all through the ship was vicious and bloody. None of them knew of the captain's orders, and so it did not occur to any of them to set their own ship alight. They were average sailors and decent fighters, but they did not have the savagery of the pirates. Before long, the ship was silent again. The anchors were drawn up, the longboats tied to her, and the sails opened. The guardpost had neither sight nor sound of the battleship until the fog cleared away more than seventeen hours later. When someone thought to look for her at midday, she was gone. One ship. Then Hugo did not have even that. ________________________________________ Crandall's smile was large as he met Gideon and Kellen outside the Imperial candidate's rooms. "I have good news for you, sir," he exclaimed quickly. "Vida has sent word: SAFT will join your cause, in return for a few small concessions." "Which are?" Kellen asked suspiciously. The Sailor sketched them out in the barest terms he could. Vida wanted what Gideon had already offered: the position of commander of the Imperial Navy. In addition, SAFT wanted control of Imperial trading operations, though both of these positions would be subjected to the ultimate authority of the Emperor. In other words, Crandall explained, SAFT was willing to become a joint department within his Council. One of the greatest requirements that was not subject to change was that every member of SAFT would be granted clean records, no matter what their past had been. People could be rash in younger years, Crandall explained, but everyone who had signed the SAFT contract had from then on agreed to abide by SAFT rules, and thus became decent citizens of the Empire. There were a few more details that he outlined. The terms were not outrageous as Kellen had feared, though he saw at once that they could stand some renegotiation. Gideon held off his decision until after his meeting with Warderson, and Crandall smiled, saying that there was no great hurry. He would be glad to pass on any communication Gideon might have for Vida. ________________________________________ Jehan Sol had done well in weaning his fleet from SAFT. The blockaders were wholly his. SAFT ships passed untroubled through his lines. SAFT captains still commanded a third of the Solaran fleet, but the crew under them were loyal only to Sol. When Sol's orders arrived to move out, the crews were elated. Their mission was ambitious: to sail out of sight of land around the peninsula and approach the Populists from the south. Unsuspecting, the Populists would fall to the might of the Solaran navy. The captains smiled indulgently, then raised whipcrack voices and settled the crew into their tasks. Near a month later, the crews were beginning to get impatient. They'd known that distances were large, but they hadn't thought they were that large. The captains smiled again, explaining that, yes, sailing closer to land would be quicker, but that wasn't their orders. Storms were frequent on the open sea. This was the first real voyage of the Solaran fleet, and the SAFT captains spent much of their time teaching their crew how to survive against the gales and the waves that threatened to wash every man overboard. Some ships survived, some were lost to the fiercest of storms. Without fail, each ship commanded by a SAFT representative lost its captain. The first lieutenants were dismayed to find themselves so suddenly in command with their mentors claimed by the sea that was their lives; that dismay turned into despair when they realized that the all-important maps, compasses and sextants had gone overboard with the captains. Those captains not affiliated with SAFT sailed blithely on, discovering that their own maps contained vast inaccuracies only when unexpected rocks rose about them. Two ships made it back to Pralgrad. The ships were barely seaworthy, the sailors weatherbeaten and demoralized. They had only praise for the bravery of their captains and their crewmates who had not made the journey back. All in all, the Solaran navy was reduced to almost half its former size. Sol found that, suspicions aside, he could not easily blame SAFT for one of the greatest naval disasters in the history of the Empire, for the captains' orders were given to him for examination, and he found that they bore his own seal, complete with magical sureties. The captains returned one by one, by merchant or by pirate, to SAFT headquarters. No more than a baker's dozen had survived, and Vida was happy that she had not lost more. [ Saturday, January 17, 2004 18:09: Message edited by: premonition ] Posts: 356 | Registered: Saturday, August 23 2003 07:00 |
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Triad Mage
Member # 7
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 11:33
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FZ, the portal went from the Fort where Kevin was to Solaria. The portal was anchored in Solaria and opened in the fort. As Taron was nowhere near Solaria, there's no way he could have taken anything of real value. And that's a supreme tragedy with the sailors, but to say that half of the fleet was destroyed is a bit much, especially since about 20% of it was already in the south and east, while many more ships were still being outfitted in Easton. 40% gone would be more reasonable, I'd think. -------------------- "At times discretion should be thrown aside, and with the foolish we should play the fool." - Menander ==== Drakefyre's Demesne - Vahnatai Did Do It desperance.net - We're Everywhere The Arena - God Will Sort The Dead ==== You can take my Mac when you pry my cold, dead fingers off the mouse! Posts: 9436 | Registered: Wednesday, September 19 2001 07:00 |
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Lifecrafter
Member # 3320
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 13:15
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Petoria and the mayor search the plains around the city and find nothing at all, save for some strange deep wagon wheel ruts that lead from the shrouded figure’s last appearance up to a large gap in the city wall that has not yet been repaired. This totally perplexes the two of them as no one had been seen traveling through gap during the morning. After some investigating of the ruts and the size of the gap, Petoria concludes that the shrouded figure must have used an invisibility spell and a stealth spell in order to get into the city undetected by the guards above on the wall. Petoria relays this information to the mayor and the mayor gets a look of deep concern on his face as he sits facing her from behind his desk. Petoria leans against the frame of the doorway looking down at him listening to his initial response to her news. Mayor Flagstaff: (Looking down at his desk and then back up at Petoria with a critical expression of concern) "Hmmm. This is indeed very grave news. It seems, if what you say is true, that this mysterious black-cloaked mage has come back to us and has brought something with him. I will put my men on the alert to keep and eye out for him. As you know, Petoria, this city is riddled with sewers and passages of all sorts. He could be hiding anywhere. Nevertheless, if he is here in the city, it is only a matter of time before he is detected. Until then, I will have a hard time sleeping." Petoria: (With a similar concerned look on her face as she stares down at him and occasionally out the window while talking) "I know exactly what you mean. However, I am less worried about his presence, and more worried about what it is that he was towing behind him in that cart. I can't possible conceive what it might be. Any large or small object can be concealed in a crate, but it was so important to the mage that he took the precaution of stealth and invisibility to avoid the guards looking at its contents. I have to admit that I am curious at its contents. Very curious indeed." Mayor Flagstaff: (Suddenly remembering something) "That reminds me, Petoria. I heard some news of an occurrence at a Solaran camp. Something about a creature called a doom guard was mentioned. I have heard of such a creature, but I really know nothing about what they are. Anyway, a great disaster occurred while some mages were studying it. They enclosed themselves in a building with barriers to escape interruptions and inadvertently there was some sort of fire eruption from the doom guard while they were trying to use it. Their precaution for privacy in their endeavors sealed their death warrant. They were found scorched to nearly ashes. The doom guard itself had melted from the fire eruption. What's more, there is talk of a portal between the fort where it had been kept before the occurrence and the Solaran city where the disaster occurred. A device used for the portal was stolen from the fort, and has since vanished. Do you think there is any connection of these events to the black shrouded mage?" Petoria: (She ponders over this revelation by staring out the window and speaking in broken increments) "Hmmm. There was a flash of light...the mage appeared...he was carting a crate towards the city...could be anywhere...what could possibly be in that crate? Think Petoria, think...Damn, my mind is blank." (Turning attention back to the mayor after a few minutes) "The connection is very possible, but I can't come up with a good answer just now. I don't have enough data to work with. I'm sorry, but I need some time to contemplate these facts. I will get back to you. This is a complex problem we have here. Bye." Mayor Flagstaff: "Very well, Petoria. I will await your ideas. Don't worry, we will find that mage eventually. He can't hide forever. Thank the gods we are free from attack right now. With these recent problems, I can't see how we would ever be able to cope with all of them at the same time. Goodbye then." Petoria leaves the mayor's office and starts walking through the various streets of the city on her way back to the tavern. She turns over each of the recent events in her mind one by one, all the while. -------------------- "Keep your wits about you, the game is afoot!" - Sherlock Holmes Mrs. Peacock: "Everything all right?" Colonel Mustard: "Yep, two corpses, everthing's fine." "What do you think I asked you here for? COMPANY?!!!" - Bette Davis Posts: 935 | Registered: Friday, August 8 2003 07:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
Member # 3151
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 13:37
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"What a damn pity. We could have gone places." "Eh?" "Nothing, exalted sir. The attack is good and ready." "Commence it." ... As the fighting reached a fever pitch in the west, something came against the rising tide -- east, into old Ironclad lands. "Fight for freedom!", the heralds shouted. "Fight for Empire!", they shouted. "Fight for Emperor Hugo!" The people had long since been abandoned by Ironclad, and it rankled. They had little loyalty to the generals that were running the army and failing to hold back the Populist tide. "Food for all!", the heralds shouted. "Work for all!", they shouted. "Justice and freedom!" The Populists knew that their cause was doomed; by echelon, they surrendered. Then the most bizzare thing happened: They were given clemence -- and not just clemence, either. They were offered positions in the military. Karadas himself found his way into the east, riding with his growing army of ex-populists and ex-Ironcladians, along with quite a few who had never taken either side. "Freedom! Prosperity! Empire!" The rising call drew him more and more recruits, more and more surrenders, more and more old feelings patched up. Among the people of the East he was still a hero. "Hugo! Hugo! Hugo!" When General Karadas arrived at the Aizoan Imperial Army headquarters, seven hundred thousand men marched at his back; haggard, worn, but at last with the glimmer of hope that accompanied the promise of victory at last. "A fair shake for all! Liberty! Empire! Prosperity! Hugo!" The banners were exultant, and so were the men -- but unlike the banners (banners of cloth: with misspeled letters, off-hand color schemes, not of the fine silk and dye that made the usual army banners), they were unified of cause and purpose. "Hu-go! Hu-go! Hu-go!" "Please inform General Warderson that I intend to appropriate the Aizoan Imperial Army for use by his supreme majesty Ilai Hugo I. There shall be no more dithering, there shall be no more playing both ends against the middle, and there shall be no more evasion. Now is the moment of truth: tomorrow Corim Warderson shall serve in heaven or lord in hell." The messenger nodded brusquely, and he fled under Karadas's piercing gaze. Karadas nodded himself: if Warderson refused, he was ordered to give him the greatest battle in Imperial history. ... -------------------- ¡Viva Chile! ¡Viva el Pueblo! ¡Vivan los Trabajadores! Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Triad Mage
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 14:32
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PS Alec - anything more than 50,000 = grave no no. I'd estimate Aizo's population at around 2,000,000, with only around 600,000 as fighting-capable. Divide that among five/six factions and rethink your numbers. -------------------- "At times discretion should be thrown aside, and with the foolish we should play the fool." - Menander ==== Drakefyre's Demesne - Vahnatai Did Do It desperance.net - We're Everywhere The Arena - God Will Sort The Dead ==== You can take my Mac when you pry my cold, dead fingers off the mouse! Posts: 9436 | Registered: Wednesday, September 19 2001 07:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 14:37
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I'd estimate it much higher. We're talking about reasonably big continents here; Roman Europe had to have at least 40 million people, which'd be more than enough to support 700,000 from all corners of it. It also means that the AIA is around 500,000, coming from a bigger continent with a much smaller explored area. -------------------- ¡Viva Chile! ¡Viva el Pueblo! ¡Vivan los Trabajadores! Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Triad Mage
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 14:43
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Pralgrad does not encompass the same scale as the Roman Empire - as a maximum, Pralgrad could have 12,000,000 people. The Roman Empire at its height was developing for nearly 1000 years. This Pralgradian society has only been in existence for a couple hundred years. -------------------- "At times discretion should be thrown aside, and with the foolish we should play the fool." - Menander ==== Drakefyre's Demesne - Vahnatai Did Do It desperance.net - We're Everywhere The Arena - God Will Sort The Dead ==== You can take my Mac when you pry my cold, dead fingers off the mouse! Posts: 9436 | Registered: Wednesday, September 19 2001 07:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 14:52
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Civilization develops even in the absence of a unified government. Europe didn't have 0 people when Rome started, after all. :P I still say around 40-50 million is what history would tell you, and that's not by any means a maximum. 40-50 million would be ridiculously low for a continent Pralgrad's size by Renaissance standards, for instance. -------------------- ¡Viva Chile! ¡Viva el Pueblo! ¡Vivan los Trabajadores! Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3022
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written Saturday, January 17 2004 14:55
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OOC: Clarify: The populists are no longer a coherent military force. They are however, not defecting. (unless they are from the east and disordered anyway) Their attitude is now that of apathy towards the war. If their cause does not win, then it matters not which of the corrupt imperialists do. Populists wear no uniform, they are not usually professional soldiers. They only intend now to return home, hopefully in one piece. Whatever recruitment drive anyone is trying is likely to result in very little success. Or if it does, it will be filled with infiltrators, ready to turn on Karadras at Linda's word. Linda and Taron have fled eastwards, to aid either Warderson, or Ironclad. The insinuation of populist sentimentality is not a direct threat to Sol, or any faction. It may in the end weaken the Solaran will to fight, but no army will materialise. 700,000 men is an impossibility for ancient armies, simply due to logistics alone. It can only be a gross exaggeration of the numbers by propagandists. Remember additionally that the AIA is Pragladian, consituting the professional soldiery at the time of Ironclad I. All that are left on Praglad are the dregs, the men too young to fight, and a basic garrison/private army. Renaissance armies consisted of usually ~50,000 men. It was only in the first world war that we got so big, and that was with mechanised logistics, embedded supply lines and so on. Finally, we can reference the avernum series themselves. Remember the shock that greeted Prazac's report of tens of thousands of dead? [ Saturday, January 17, 2004 15:05: Message edited by: FZ ] Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |