D... d... dd... d... DEVOUR SOUL!
-
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In Progress [LP] Lord Captain, you've served your time in Hell! Codex plays Lords of Infinity, a text RPG of Politics and Warfare
- Thread starter Lithium Flower
- Start date
As for the vote, 4a.
Last edited:
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Wulfram is mistaken; we must maintain our defences, regardless of the difficulty.
Wulfram may have reason to speak the way he does, but he wasn't in Antar as his father was. He hasn't seen with his own eyes the consequences of leaving a country unprepared for its own defence.
The League of Antar had possessed no standing army, its divided and self-interested aristocracy could respond only piecemeal, with improvised armies which all too often fell apart in battle. Had the Lords of the Antari League Congress committed to a common defence, they would have overwhelmed you with sheer numbers. Instead, they surrendered large portions of their country and their people to the control of the King's invading army, and an invading army cannot but spread devastation in its wake, no matter the intentions of its leaders. You saw the ruin which you and your own allies wrought upon Southern Antar, something which others had excused as military necessity, even whilst you could see it as nothing but barbarism. The thought of such horrors being visited upon your own homeland cannot help but make your blood run cold.
~Horrors, you think, barbarism... yet you did find glory and necessity in such feats of brutality - only whenever you were complicit in them.
Was there much glory in riding down fleeing Antari serfs, under the cover of night, like some fell brigand?
Was there necessity in standing by, helpless and hapless, as your men looted and raped Kharingia?
Wretch. Hypocrite. Your cause is tainted by your own actions.
You ought to hold your tongue and sit in silence.
And yet...~
No, Tierra must be defended, whatever the cost.
I can offer no rhetoric, but I must be seen among those who oppose Wulfram's words.
You may not have the grounding or the experience to speak, but the very least you can do is make your voice heard.
So you stand, you join the chorus of voices opposing the Duke of Wulfram's rhetoric, even if you have nothing profound to say. Aping the countenance and movements of your fellow Lords of the Cortes as best you can, you set your stance.
Perhaps Wulfram will see it and mark you as an enemy. Perhaps his rivals will see it and consider you an ally.
Perhaps nobody will see it, and you've done nothing but embarrass yourself for the sake of joining in as one voice among hundreds. The debate goes on. Other men answer Wulfram's address, only to be answered in return, stroke and counterstroke, each compelling the other like a pair of fixed gearwheels, turning and going nowhere.
An hour passes, then two. Argument and rebuttal subside into the indistinct buzzing of voices. Those around you droop in their seats. Some doze off entirely. You're not sure you can blame them: no resolutions are passed, no motions are carried, no votes are called. The Chamber does not progress, it dances.
In the end, the session is adjourned more out of sheer exhaustion than any sort of accomplishment.
---
[Okay, conversations are going to be different in this book.
They are more complex and I do not feel like spending an entire week on minute dialogue choices. There will likely be no "one size fits all" solution, but here is what we will try this time:
For the following exchange, you will vote on every dialogue option present in the conversation, at once and in advance. To contextualize each set of choices without spoiling the whole conversation, I added italicized excerpts between them - these excerpts are only a small parts of the whole conversation, that will remain constant regardless of whatever dialogue option you choose.
After the vote is completed, you will get all the details of the resulting conversation. Note that some dialogue options may be purely for flavor but others may net different information, or shift your personality, or lead to reputation changes with characters, etc - choose carefully.
Additionally, for tonal consistency, I will be counting votes for the entire combination of choices, not for each choice individually.
So, if Kalarion goes votes for 1a 2a 3a 4a 5a, and Optimist votes for 1b 2a 3a 4a 5a, I will count their votes as follows:
1a 2a 3a 4a 5a = 1 vote
1b 2a 3a 4a 5a = 1 vote
I will NOT count them as follows:
1a = 1 vote
1b = 1 vote
2a = 2 votes
3a = 2 votes
4a = 2 votes
5a = 2 votes
EXCEPT in the case of a tie, in which case I will enable SCHIZO MODE, and I will count each option individually for MAXIMUM PSYCHOSIS.
Christ, I hope I am making sense. If this is confusing, let me know.]
---
It's a relief to stand up again and stretch your limbs. It's all you can do to avoid a most indecorous sigh of relief when your backbone realigns itself betwixt your shoulders. Still in your robes, you join the throng of your fellow Lords as they file out of the doors leading to the antechamber and beyond, to the Lords' Course.
Yet not long after you pass the pair of Grenadiers at the antechamber doors, a portly, middle-aged man hobbles towards you, cane in hand, his hair tightly cropped in the style fashionable when you had left for Antar.
"One would think that his father would have taught the boy more sense," he declares darkly as he glances disdainfully at the Duke of Wulfram's turned back. "A soldier ought to teach his sons the value of his trade."
1a) "My pardon sir, do you address me?"
1b) "The boy? You mean Wulfram, sir?"
1c) "Were you well acquainted with the late Duke?"
1d) "And who would you be, sir?"
The man offers you his hand...
"Baron Hawthorne, until very lately Assistant Under-Secretary at War. An honour, sir..."
The father of the commanding officer who led your squadron into a mass of Antari horse at Blogia, never to be seen again...
"My son did not think kindly of you," he admits. "He did not believe you had the judgement for what was required of you. Perhaps you have changed in the years since, or perhaps he was simply mistaken..."
2a) "He was right to think poorly of me. I was a fool then."
2b) "I must admit, I did not think all that highly of him either."
2c) "I appreciate the compliment, my lord."
2d) "You speak of him in the past tense, does that mean…"
A moment of silence hangs between the two of you...
"We hardly have time to dwell upon the past, not when Young Wulfram means to mortgage away any hope of securing our future..."
3a) "You disagree with Wulfram's position?"
3b) "That said, Wulfram may have a point."
3c) "What of the common people? I have heard rumours of riots…"
3d) "Does he truly mean to leave the realm defenceless?"
"You did well..." [in speaking out against Wulfram]
4a) "I just made the right noises at the right time."
4b) "I just wanted everyone to know where I stand, that was all."
4c) "Really? I thought it was rather forward of me."
"It took me eight years before I worked up the courage to say a word in that Chamber, and on a far less important matter than this. That makes you a braver man than I..."
5a) "One ought to stand up for one's beliefs, regardless of the risk."
5b) "Or perhaps a more foolish one. I've made enemies today."
5c) "You're assuming my intentions are entirely honest."
---
As of the Autumn of the 613 of the Old Imperial Era:
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga, Baron Ezinbrooke
Captain, Royal Dragoons (half-pay)
Age: 25
Current Funds: 1754 Crown
Debts: 10860 Crown
Bi-Annual Income (Personal): 135 Crown
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 31%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 57% Cynicism: 43%
Ruthlessness: 39% Mercy: 61%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear Bane-hardened armour and wield a Bane-runed sword.
Friends & Associates
Javier Campos: Colour Sergeant, the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 583 OIE)
Victor d'al Reyes: Eldest son of Baron Reyes. Major, the 8th Regiment of Foot. Formerly Commander, the Experimental Corps of Riflemen.
(Born: 583 OIE)
James d'al Sandoral: Captain (half-pay), the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 592 OIE)
Enemies
Hiir Cassius vam Holt: Takaran Ambassador to Tierra. Eldest son to Richsgraav vam Holt.
(Born 527 OIE)
Eleanora d'al Welles): Countess Welles. Proponent of Military Reform. Friend to Isobel, the Princess-Royal. (Born 587 OIE)
Wulfram may have reason to speak the way he does, but he wasn't in Antar as his father was. He hasn't seen with his own eyes the consequences of leaving a country unprepared for its own defence.
The League of Antar had possessed no standing army, its divided and self-interested aristocracy could respond only piecemeal, with improvised armies which all too often fell apart in battle. Had the Lords of the Antari League Congress committed to a common defence, they would have overwhelmed you with sheer numbers. Instead, they surrendered large portions of their country and their people to the control of the King's invading army, and an invading army cannot but spread devastation in its wake, no matter the intentions of its leaders. You saw the ruin which you and your own allies wrought upon Southern Antar, something which others had excused as military necessity, even whilst you could see it as nothing but barbarism. The thought of such horrors being visited upon your own homeland cannot help but make your blood run cold.
~Horrors, you think, barbarism... yet you did find glory and necessity in such feats of brutality - only whenever you were complicit in them.
Was there much glory in riding down fleeing Antari serfs, under the cover of night, like some fell brigand?
Was there necessity in standing by, helpless and hapless, as your men looted and raped Kharingia?
Wretch. Hypocrite. Your cause is tainted by your own actions.
You ought to hold your tongue and sit in silence.
And yet...~
No, Tierra must be defended, whatever the cost.
I can offer no rhetoric, but I must be seen among those who oppose Wulfram's words.
You may not have the grounding or the experience to speak, but the very least you can do is make your voice heard.
So you stand, you join the chorus of voices opposing the Duke of Wulfram's rhetoric, even if you have nothing profound to say. Aping the countenance and movements of your fellow Lords of the Cortes as best you can, you set your stance.
Perhaps Wulfram will see it and mark you as an enemy. Perhaps his rivals will see it and consider you an ally.
Perhaps nobody will see it, and you've done nothing but embarrass yourself for the sake of joining in as one voice among hundreds. The debate goes on. Other men answer Wulfram's address, only to be answered in return, stroke and counterstroke, each compelling the other like a pair of fixed gearwheels, turning and going nowhere.
An hour passes, then two. Argument and rebuttal subside into the indistinct buzzing of voices. Those around you droop in their seats. Some doze off entirely. You're not sure you can blame them: no resolutions are passed, no motions are carried, no votes are called. The Chamber does not progress, it dances.
In the end, the session is adjourned more out of sheer exhaustion than any sort of accomplishment.
---
[Okay, conversations are going to be different in this book.
They are more complex and I do not feel like spending an entire week on minute dialogue choices. There will likely be no "one size fits all" solution, but here is what we will try this time:
For the following exchange, you will vote on every dialogue option present in the conversation, at once and in advance. To contextualize each set of choices without spoiling the whole conversation, I added italicized excerpts between them - these excerpts are only a small parts of the whole conversation, that will remain constant regardless of whatever dialogue option you choose.
After the vote is completed, you will get all the details of the resulting conversation. Note that some dialogue options may be purely for flavor but others may net different information, or shift your personality, or lead to reputation changes with characters, etc - choose carefully.
Additionally, for tonal consistency, I will be counting votes for the entire combination of choices, not for each choice individually.
So, if Kalarion goes votes for 1a 2a 3a 4a 5a, and Optimist votes for 1b 2a 3a 4a 5a, I will count their votes as follows:
1a 2a 3a 4a 5a = 1 vote
1b 2a 3a 4a 5a = 1 vote
I will NOT count them as follows:
1a = 1 vote
1b = 1 vote
2a = 2 votes
3a = 2 votes
4a = 2 votes
5a = 2 votes
EXCEPT in the case of a tie, in which case I will enable SCHIZO MODE, and I will count each option individually for MAXIMUM PSYCHOSIS.
Christ, I hope I am making sense. If this is confusing, let me know.]
---
It's a relief to stand up again and stretch your limbs. It's all you can do to avoid a most indecorous sigh of relief when your backbone realigns itself betwixt your shoulders. Still in your robes, you join the throng of your fellow Lords as they file out of the doors leading to the antechamber and beyond, to the Lords' Course.
Yet not long after you pass the pair of Grenadiers at the antechamber doors, a portly, middle-aged man hobbles towards you, cane in hand, his hair tightly cropped in the style fashionable when you had left for Antar.
"One would think that his father would have taught the boy more sense," he declares darkly as he glances disdainfully at the Duke of Wulfram's turned back. "A soldier ought to teach his sons the value of his trade."
1a) "My pardon sir, do you address me?"
1b) "The boy? You mean Wulfram, sir?"
1c) "Were you well acquainted with the late Duke?"
1d) "And who would you be, sir?"
The man offers you his hand...
"Baron Hawthorne, until very lately Assistant Under-Secretary at War. An honour, sir..."
The father of the commanding officer who led your squadron into a mass of Antari horse at Blogia, never to be seen again...
"My son did not think kindly of you," he admits. "He did not believe you had the judgement for what was required of you. Perhaps you have changed in the years since, or perhaps he was simply mistaken..."
2a) "He was right to think poorly of me. I was a fool then."
2b) "I must admit, I did not think all that highly of him either."
2c) "I appreciate the compliment, my lord."
2d) "You speak of him in the past tense, does that mean…"
A moment of silence hangs between the two of you...
"We hardly have time to dwell upon the past, not when Young Wulfram means to mortgage away any hope of securing our future..."
3a) "You disagree with Wulfram's position?"
3b) "That said, Wulfram may have a point."
3c) "What of the common people? I have heard rumours of riots…"
3d) "Does he truly mean to leave the realm defenceless?"
"You did well..." [in speaking out against Wulfram]
4a) "I just made the right noises at the right time."
4b) "I just wanted everyone to know where I stand, that was all."
4c) "Really? I thought it was rather forward of me."
"It took me eight years before I worked up the courage to say a word in that Chamber, and on a far less important matter than this. That makes you a braver man than I..."
5a) "One ought to stand up for one's beliefs, regardless of the risk."
5b) "Or perhaps a more foolish one. I've made enemies today."
5c) "You're assuming my intentions are entirely honest."
---
As of the Autumn of the 613 of the Old Imperial Era:
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga, Baron Ezinbrooke
Captain, Royal Dragoons (half-pay)
Age: 25
Current Funds: 1754 Crown
Debts: 10860 Crown
Bi-Annual Income (Personal): 135 Crown
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 31%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 57% Cynicism: 43%
Ruthlessness: 39% Mercy: 61%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear Bane-hardened armour and wield a Bane-runed sword.
Friends & Associates
Javier Campos: Colour Sergeant, the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 583 OIE)
Victor d'al Reyes: Eldest son of Baron Reyes. Major, the 8th Regiment of Foot. Formerly Commander, the Experimental Corps of Riflemen.
(Born: 583 OIE)
James d'al Sandoral: Captain (half-pay), the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 592 OIE)
Enemies
Hiir Cassius vam Holt: Takaran Ambassador to Tierra. Eldest son to Richsgraav vam Holt.
(Born 527 OIE)
Eleanora d'al Welles): Countess Welles. Proponent of Military Reform. Friend to Isobel, the Princess-Royal. (Born 587 OIE)
Last edited:
Dis.
Endemic
Arcane
- Joined
- Jul 16, 2012
- Messages
- 4,332
Sure, I think this is a good balance of direct and remembering our station.
I'm in for it too.
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Cool, I was just about to say that at a 4-vote consensus for that set of choices, I might as well do an early update - since its highly unlikely we are going to get 4-5 more people to vote otherwise.
That being said if in the future the thread gets a higher number of regulars, this threshold will of course increase. So far we've had 7 votes at most, so calling an early update at 4 seems fair.
That being said if in the future the thread gets a higher number of regulars, this threshold will of course increase. So far we've had 7 votes at most, so calling an early update at 4 seems fair.
Last edited:
- Joined
- Nov 6, 2020
- Messages
- 15,204
It's obvious whom he means with 1b. Intelligence loss imo.
1d
2a
3d
4b
5b
1d
2a
3d
4b
5b
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
[Hopefully this new voting process is sensible and offers enough context. Do not worry, I will slow down once we get to more important decisions, both in terms of density of choices per update, and update frequency.]
"The boy? You mean Wulfram, sir?"
"I do," he replies. "His father was a great man, a better man than many gave him credit for. I suppose I ought to know better than most."
You feel your eyes narrow. Who is this fellow, exactly?
"Would you, sir?" you ask.
"I would," the other man replies as he offers you his hand. "Baron Hawthorne, until very lately Assistant Under-Secretary at War. An honour, sir."
Lord Hawthorne. So this is the father of the boy you knew as a cornet at Fernandescourt, the young man whom you served with as a junior officer in Antar.
The father of the commanding officer who led your squadron into a mass of Antari horse at Blogia, never to be seen again.
~That son of his is - or, more likely, was - Captain Elson. Almost as much of an overzealous, wide-eyed fool as you were during that battle, with but one crucial difference.
He lead the charge that day, while you stayed in the relative safety of the tower garrison;
You stand before his father now, and he does not.
Why? Why are you here, when he is not?
You know that there is no justice in this outcome - Elson's fate wounded his good father, whereas your own disappearance would have upset no one.
You know that the fault lies with you - because you could have ridden alongside Elson, but chose not to.
You know damn well that it should have been you who perished at Blogia...
Now, cease with that pitiful expression before your stare drills into the old man's face.~
Hawthorne catches the look in your eye. "My son did not think kindly of you," he admits. "He did not believe you had the judgement for what was required of you. Perhaps you have changed in the years since, or perhaps he was simply mistaken."
"He was right to think poorly of me. I was a fool then."
"Perhaps," Hawthorne concedes, "but it has been six years since my son last wrote to me. Men can change a great deal in such a time, especially if they are driven by necessity…or regret."
"Then you have had no news of him?" you ask. Captain Elson's body had never been found after Blogia, but if he were alive, he would have surely contacted his family by now.
Hawthorne shakes his head. "Nothing. I handled the reports of the missing and dead after Blogia personally, and I have found nothing. It has been a difficult reality to face, but he is almost certainly with the Saints now."
A moment of silence hangs between the two of you, a little bubble of quiet surrounded by the hubbub of your fellow Lords. Hawthorne shakes his head again. He lets out a breath, the bubble breaks. "I apologise, my lord, I grow maudlin," he says, his ill mood suddenly gone. "We hardly have time to dwell upon the past, not when Young Wulfram means to mortgage away any hope of securing our future."
"Does he truly mean to leave the realm defenceless?"
"I do not think so," Hawthorne answers, "but it does not matter. In between the cost of servicing our wartime debt and the grain subsidies, the Crown has barely enough revenue as it is. Take away the war taxes, and we shall perhaps have just enough money remaining to maintain a small engraving of a frigate and a corporal's guard."
He lets out a sigh as he looks to you approvingly. "No, whatever his intentions, Wulfram's policy will only bring us ruin, you did well to speak out against it."
"I just wanted everyone to know where I stand, that was all."
"I suppose you have certainly done that," Hawthorne replies. "It takes a great deal of courage to take a side on your first day."
He nudges his chin at the doors leading to the Cortes Chamber. "That room does something to a man. You go in believing that you are on the side of all the Saints, and suddenly you find yourself surrounded by the most powerful lords in the realm, men who could break you as easily as breathing. It's easy for a man to shut himself up in a place like that, especially on his first day. 'Next time,' he tells himself, 'next time, I will speak out,' but he never does, his silence becomes habit, and all of his good intentions come to naught."
Hawthorne gives you a sad little smile. "It took me eight years before I worked up the courage to say a word in that Chamber, and on a far less important matter than this. That makes you a braver man than I."
"One ought to stand up for one's beliefs, regardless of the risk."
"Some might call you a fool for such sentiments," Hawthorne cautions. "You've likely made enemies today, and when you realise how powerful they are, you may be tempted to retreat to your estates and never return. I've seen it happen before."
Before the other baron can say more, the two of you are approached by two more figures, their resplendent dress uniforms setting them apart from the throng of black frock coats.
"Good evening, uncle," says the elder, wearing the burnt-orange jacket of an infantry officer. "And good evening to you too, Ezinbrooke. I've been looking for you. Congratulations on your investiture."
He offers you his hand. You shake it without hesitation.
The last you saw Viscount Hugh, he was at the head of a battalion of foot in Antar. You got along well enough in Antar, but now that you're once again home, you cannot help but feel a silent form of kinship with the man, a bond of campaigns shared and common hardships remembered.
~Indeed, you were even able to send Hugh - Winthrop d'al Hartigan, by name - one of your squadrons during the second battle of Kharingia, aiding his position... and over-committing your reserves, spreading yourself far too thin before the decisive phase of battle had even started;
Dooming dozens, if not hundreds of men, with one myopic order...
As you are wont to do.~
The other fellow wears the tightly trousered white and sky-blue rig of the White Rose Lancers, and he is no different. Sir Louis-Auguste d'al Palliser commanded the Cavalry Brigade at the decisive Second Battle of Kharangia at the young age of twenty-six. For his role in that victory, he was made Viscount Palliser, a victory title that gives him no estates but the right to sit on the Cortes.
"Very fine t'see you here, very fine," he drawls in a clipped, dandyish accent as he too shakes your hand. "Plenty of time now for politics I suppose, seeing's we's all on half-pay and all, wot?"
---
[Same voting process as last time, gents.]
1a) "Perhaps, but first I must put my estate to rights."
1b) "In truth, I miss the army already."
1c) "I do not think I am cut out for this sort of thing."
1d) "Someone must defend the army's interests."
"I've got a townhouse off Saint Octavia's Park, holding a dinner there tonight, informal thing, no ladies, all old Antar men, like ourselves. Be honoured if you'd come. You're invited too, uncle," Hugh adds to Hawthorne....
The other baron offers a pained smile. "Very kind of you, but I fear I must sail for Fernandescourt early tomorrow, and I must see if I can't convince Cunaris to take on the Councilor-Militant's office."
Now that is interesting: your regimental colonel and immediate superior is being considered for the role of the senior soldier in the kingdom...
2a) "What of the Duke of Havenport? Is he not still Councillor-Militant?"
2b) "Why Cunaris, in particular?"
2c) "Does His Majesty approve?"
2d) "What if Cunaris refuses?"
---
As of the Autumn of the 613 of the Old Imperial Era:
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga, Baron Ezinbrooke
Captain, Royal Dragoons (half-pay)
Age: 25
Current Funds: 1754 Crown
Debts: 10860 Crown
Bi-Annual Income (Personal): 135 Crown
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 31%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 61% Cynicism: 39%
Ruthlessness: 39% Mercy: 61%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear Bane-hardened armour and wield a Bane-runed sword.
Friends and Associates
Javier Campos: Colour Sergeant, the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 583 OIE)
Victor d'al Reyes: Eldest son of Baron Reyes. Major, the 8th Regiment of Foot. Formerly Commander, the Experimental Corps of Riflemen.
(Born: 583 OIE)
James d'al Sandoral: Captain (half-pay), the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 592 OIE)
Enemies
Hiir Cassius vam Holt: Takaran Ambassador to Tierra. Eldest son to Richsgraav vam Holt.
(Born 527 OIE)
Eleanora d'al Welles): Countess Welles. Proponent of Military Reform. Friend to Isobel, the Princess-Royal. (Born 587 OIE)
"The boy? You mean Wulfram, sir?"
"I do," he replies. "His father was a great man, a better man than many gave him credit for. I suppose I ought to know better than most."
You feel your eyes narrow. Who is this fellow, exactly?
"Would you, sir?" you ask.
"I would," the other man replies as he offers you his hand. "Baron Hawthorne, until very lately Assistant Under-Secretary at War. An honour, sir."
Lord Hawthorne. So this is the father of the boy you knew as a cornet at Fernandescourt, the young man whom you served with as a junior officer in Antar.
The father of the commanding officer who led your squadron into a mass of Antari horse at Blogia, never to be seen again.
~That son of his is - or, more likely, was - Captain Elson. Almost as much of an overzealous, wide-eyed fool as you were during that battle, with but one crucial difference.
He lead the charge that day, while you stayed in the relative safety of the tower garrison;
You stand before his father now, and he does not.
Why? Why are you here, when he is not?
You know that there is no justice in this outcome - Elson's fate wounded his good father, whereas your own disappearance would have upset no one.
You know that the fault lies with you - because you could have ridden alongside Elson, but chose not to.
You know damn well that it should have been you who perished at Blogia...
Now, cease with that pitiful expression before your stare drills into the old man's face.~
Hawthorne catches the look in your eye. "My son did not think kindly of you," he admits. "He did not believe you had the judgement for what was required of you. Perhaps you have changed in the years since, or perhaps he was simply mistaken."
"He was right to think poorly of me. I was a fool then."
"Perhaps," Hawthorne concedes, "but it has been six years since my son last wrote to me. Men can change a great deal in such a time, especially if they are driven by necessity…or regret."
"Then you have had no news of him?" you ask. Captain Elson's body had never been found after Blogia, but if he were alive, he would have surely contacted his family by now.
Hawthorne shakes his head. "Nothing. I handled the reports of the missing and dead after Blogia personally, and I have found nothing. It has been a difficult reality to face, but he is almost certainly with the Saints now."
A moment of silence hangs between the two of you, a little bubble of quiet surrounded by the hubbub of your fellow Lords. Hawthorne shakes his head again. He lets out a breath, the bubble breaks. "I apologise, my lord, I grow maudlin," he says, his ill mood suddenly gone. "We hardly have time to dwell upon the past, not when Young Wulfram means to mortgage away any hope of securing our future."
"Does he truly mean to leave the realm defenceless?"
"I do not think so," Hawthorne answers, "but it does not matter. In between the cost of servicing our wartime debt and the grain subsidies, the Crown has barely enough revenue as it is. Take away the war taxes, and we shall perhaps have just enough money remaining to maintain a small engraving of a frigate and a corporal's guard."
He lets out a sigh as he looks to you approvingly. "No, whatever his intentions, Wulfram's policy will only bring us ruin, you did well to speak out against it."
"I just wanted everyone to know where I stand, that was all."
"I suppose you have certainly done that," Hawthorne replies. "It takes a great deal of courage to take a side on your first day."
He nudges his chin at the doors leading to the Cortes Chamber. "That room does something to a man. You go in believing that you are on the side of all the Saints, and suddenly you find yourself surrounded by the most powerful lords in the realm, men who could break you as easily as breathing. It's easy for a man to shut himself up in a place like that, especially on his first day. 'Next time,' he tells himself, 'next time, I will speak out,' but he never does, his silence becomes habit, and all of his good intentions come to naught."
Hawthorne gives you a sad little smile. "It took me eight years before I worked up the courage to say a word in that Chamber, and on a far less important matter than this. That makes you a braver man than I."
"One ought to stand up for one's beliefs, regardless of the risk."
"Some might call you a fool for such sentiments," Hawthorne cautions. "You've likely made enemies today, and when you realise how powerful they are, you may be tempted to retreat to your estates and never return. I've seen it happen before."
Before the other baron can say more, the two of you are approached by two more figures, their resplendent dress uniforms setting them apart from the throng of black frock coats.
"Good evening, uncle," says the elder, wearing the burnt-orange jacket of an infantry officer. "And good evening to you too, Ezinbrooke. I've been looking for you. Congratulations on your investiture."
He offers you his hand. You shake it without hesitation.
The last you saw Viscount Hugh, he was at the head of a battalion of foot in Antar. You got along well enough in Antar, but now that you're once again home, you cannot help but feel a silent form of kinship with the man, a bond of campaigns shared and common hardships remembered.
~Indeed, you were even able to send Hugh - Winthrop d'al Hartigan, by name - one of your squadrons during the second battle of Kharingia, aiding his position... and over-committing your reserves, spreading yourself far too thin before the decisive phase of battle had even started;
Dooming dozens, if not hundreds of men, with one myopic order...
As you are wont to do.~
The other fellow wears the tightly trousered white and sky-blue rig of the White Rose Lancers, and he is no different. Sir Louis-Auguste d'al Palliser commanded the Cavalry Brigade at the decisive Second Battle of Kharangia at the young age of twenty-six. For his role in that victory, he was made Viscount Palliser, a victory title that gives him no estates but the right to sit on the Cortes.
"Very fine t'see you here, very fine," he drawls in a clipped, dandyish accent as he too shakes your hand. "Plenty of time now for politics I suppose, seeing's we's all on half-pay and all, wot?"
---
[Same voting process as last time, gents.]
1a) "Perhaps, but first I must put my estate to rights."
1b) "In truth, I miss the army already."
1c) "I do not think I am cut out for this sort of thing."
1d) "Someone must defend the army's interests."
"I've got a townhouse off Saint Octavia's Park, holding a dinner there tonight, informal thing, no ladies, all old Antar men, like ourselves. Be honoured if you'd come. You're invited too, uncle," Hugh adds to Hawthorne....
The other baron offers a pained smile. "Very kind of you, but I fear I must sail for Fernandescourt early tomorrow, and I must see if I can't convince Cunaris to take on the Councilor-Militant's office."
Now that is interesting: your regimental colonel and immediate superior is being considered for the role of the senior soldier in the kingdom...
2a) "What of the Duke of Havenport? Is he not still Councillor-Militant?"
2b) "Why Cunaris, in particular?"
2c) "Does His Majesty approve?"
2d) "What if Cunaris refuses?"
---
As of the Autumn of the 613 of the Old Imperial Era:
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga, Baron Ezinbrooke
Captain, Royal Dragoons (half-pay)
Age: 25
Current Funds: 1754 Crown
Debts: 10860 Crown
Bi-Annual Income (Personal): 135 Crown
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 31%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 61% Cynicism: 39%
Ruthlessness: 39% Mercy: 61%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear Bane-hardened armour and wield a Bane-runed sword.
Friends and Associates
Javier Campos: Colour Sergeant, the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 583 OIE)
Victor d'al Reyes: Eldest son of Baron Reyes. Major, the 8th Regiment of Foot. Formerly Commander, the Experimental Corps of Riflemen.
(Born: 583 OIE)
James d'al Sandoral: Captain (half-pay), the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 592 OIE)
Enemies
Hiir Cassius vam Holt: Takaran Ambassador to Tierra. Eldest son to Richsgraav vam Holt.
(Born 527 OIE)
Eleanora d'al Welles): Countess Welles. Proponent of Military Reform. Friend to Isobel, the Princess-Royal. (Born 587 OIE)
Last edited:
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Our Soldiering, Charisma, and Intelligence will change very seldom. These types of choices are much more likely to effect personality attributes, reputation, and our standing with individual characters (latter being a hidden stat.)
- Joined
- Nov 6, 2020
- Messages
- 15,204
1b
2b
2b
1a) "Perhaps, but first I must put my estate to rights."
We may yet have that peculiar joy of taking up the sword and donning our plate once again. But for now our land and people require a good shepherd, capable of guiding them through the perilous economic times that are sure to come.
Instead they've got us. We'd better focus with all our will on our inheritance, for the sake of our people and for ourselves.
2b) "Why Cunaris, in particular?"
The choice of Councillor-Militant is an interesting one, though perhaps not of great importance to us (presently, at any rate). I do wonder why Cunaris. Isn't he permanently crippled?
We may yet have that peculiar joy of taking up the sword and donning our plate once again. But for now our land and people require a good shepherd, capable of guiding them through the perilous economic times that are sure to come.
Instead they've got us. We'd better focus with all our will on our inheritance, for the sake of our people and for ourselves.
2b) "Why Cunaris, in particular?"
The choice of Councillor-Militant is an interesting one, though perhaps not of great importance to us (presently, at any rate). I do wonder why Cunaris. Isn't he permanently crippled?
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
His injury is indeed permanent (although there is magical healing in the setting, but I am guessing that it is very limited in power) and another notable detail is that he is not just our Colonel but also our liege at peacetime - our barony is in Cunaris.
Some relevant descriptions from the reference, for anyone interested:
Holy shit, I forgot pops was a fucking 8th level bloodmage.
Some relevant descriptions from the reference, for anyone interested:
Holy shit, I forgot pops was a fucking 8th level bloodmage.
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2012
- Messages
- 28,415
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
A two-way tie. Shit... how could this possibly be resolved?
If only I knew of some established convention to break such a tie. Or - wait, I know!
I will just do a backflip. If I land on my feet, we will go with 1a). And if I land on my head, we will go with 1b).
However, since I am not actually dexterous enough to do a backflip from a standing jump alone, I will require at least some additional height - a the top of some structure, perhaps. And since the only rooftop that has sufficient clearance is about 4 stories hight, there may be a slight chance that the next update gets delayed by a few months. Or forever.
EDIT: everything hurts
If only I knew of some established convention to break such a tie. Or - wait, I know!
I will just do a backflip. If I land on my feet, we will go with 1a). And if I land on my head, we will go with 1b).
However, since I am not actually dexterous enough to do a backflip from a standing jump alone, I will require at least some additional height - a the top of some structure, perhaps. And since the only rooftop that has sufficient clearance is about 4 stories hight, there may be a slight chance that the next update gets delayed by a few months. Or forever.
EDIT: everything hurts
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
"In truth, I miss the army already."
"Y'not the only one, I can tell you that," Palliser admits. "I've got a townhouse off Saint Octavia's Park, holding a dinner there tonight, informal thing, no ladies, all old Antar men, like ourselves. Be honoured if you'd come. You're invited too, uncle," Hugh adds to Hawthorne. "The army couldn't have fought very well without you working day and night at Grenadier Square to keep us supplied."
The other baron offers a pained smile. "Very kind of you, but I fear I must sail for Fernandescourt early tomorrow, and I must see if I can't convince Cunaris to take on the Councilor-Militant's office."
Now that is interesting: your regimental colonel and immediate superior is being considered for the role of the senior soldier in the kingdom. Granted, he would take command of a much-diminished army, but it would be a fine reward for a man who already lost the use of his legs in the service of Crown and Kingdom.
"Why Cunaris, in particular?"
"Who better?" Hawthorne asks. "His military credentials are above reproach, his duchy practically runs itself, and he is seen as a man above political faction. What's more, his daughter is Duchess of Wulfram. If any man could talk sense into Young Wulfram's head, it is his father-by-marriage."
He shakes his head. "With Havenport too preoccupied with his clan's business to maintain himself at Grenadier Square, Cunaris is the best candidate for the job."
Viscount Palliser nods in agreement. "You was in his brigade at Second Kharangia, weren't you? Had a hard job of it, but Cunaris held on 'til me Lancers arrived. Ain't a better man for the job, I'd say, eh?" "In any case, my lords, I bid you joy of the evening," Hawthorne concludes. "I've a long journey ahead of me. Give my regards to Lady Hugh."
"Of course," Hugh replies. "Safe travels, uncle, and good luck."
Hawthorne gives one final nod before retreating back into the throng.
Palliser watches him go. "Shame thet. Hawthorne always knows what he's about when it comes to supply lines and billeting, demmed useful fellow him," he says regretfully before turning to you. "But you'll come, won't you Ezinbrooke? Lord Marcus will be there, two half-pay captains from your regiment too. Blaylock and Sandoral, they was yours, weren't they?"
~Lord Marcus, the younger brother of Duke Havenport - another man who, much like Hugh, could tolerate you. And your former lieutenants, to think that they are Captains now, same as you...~
You give it a thought. The promise of familiar faces and familiar subjects is a tempting one. The war was not all trumpets and glory, but some part of you still misses it. You must admit, the chance to talk about it with old comrades and acquaintances is—
"I beg pardon, I pray I am not interrupting."
You turn to the source of this new voice, somewhat annoyed at having your thoughts so suddenly interrupted.
That's when you find yourself face to face with the Duke of Wulfram.
---
Lord Hugh inclines his head politely. "Your Grace, how unexpected."
"I assure you, I shan't detain you for long," Wulfram says genially. "I merely wished to offer my congratulations to the newest Lord of the Cortes."
He turns to you. "Welcome, Lord Ezinbrooke. The chamber is made better for having one in it."
You say the only thing one can say when complimented by a Duke of the Unified Kingdom: "Thank you, Your Grace."
"I've also come to offer an invitation," Wulfram continues. "I've a dinner engagement at the Rendower Club this evening. I'd be quite pleased if you could join us."
An invitation for dinner with the Duke of Wulfram at his private club, that would certainly be an honour. But what of Palliser and Hugh? What of old comrades and the brotherhood of war? One cannot very well be in two places at once. And besides, what reason would Wulfram have to invite you to such a thing? After all, you just spoke out against him in the chamber, does that not make you enemies?
[As before, I will automatically take dialogue options that do not lock us out of other choices nor bear other mechanical consequences - unless I feel like doing so would be out of character for Alaric.]
"I'm not sure I understand. I just spoke against you."
"And that is cause to make one an enemy?" Wulfram asks. "I am sure you had your reasons for taking the position you did. What I want to know is what they are, where you stand on things, in your own words. If my conscience requires me to speak against you in the chamber, I would want to make sure that I know that I am speaking against your argument, as you see it, and not some figment conjured up by my own prejudices."
That seems rather good of him. "Your Grace is too kind," you reply.
"It is a matter of simple decency," Wulfram insists. "We are gentlemen of the blood, the least we can do is treat each other as such. Come to the Rendower with me, you will have every opportunity to explain your thoughts without a hundred Lords all trying to shout you down."
"I beg your pardon. What is the Rendower Club?"
"The Rendower?" Palliser seems genuinely surprised that you haven't heard of it. "Dear fellow, the Rendower ain't but the oldest club in Aetoria, and the most prestigious. Y'need royal blood just to be considered for entry." He seems about to say something else, but evidently thinks better of it.
"It's not quite as exclusive as it sounds," Wulfram replies with the twitch of a smile. "Practically every noble house in the Duchy of Aetoria has some Rendower blood in them. The House of Rendower is nothing if not prolific. Still, we have an excellent wine cellar and maintain a very fine chef, who was trained all the way in H'onneshanne."
Dinner at the oldest club in the city, with food prepared by a genuine Kian chef. That certainly carries an appeal with it, and if the Rendower truly is as exclusive as Palliser seems to think it is, then you would be rubbing shoulders with some of the most powerful men in the Unified Kingdom.
Wulfram turns to Palliser. "You are welcome to return as well, my lord, should you wish it."
Palliser shakes his head. "I fear I've already an engagement," he admits. "Some other time, eh?"
Wulfram nods before turning back to you. "So? Is it agreed then?" he asks expectantly. "One may be assured that one will never taste a finer roast duck in his life."
1) "My apologies, Your Grace, but I am already spoken for this evening."
2) "I'd be happy to accept your invitation, Your Grace."
[In case it is not apparent, rejecting Wulfram's invitation means that we will be taking Hugh and Palliser up on theirs for the evening - a branching choice that I will give you at least 20-24 hours to vote on.]
---
As of the Autumn of the 613 of the Old Imperial Era:
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga, Baron Ezinbrooke
Captain, Royal Dragoons (half-pay)
Age: 25
Current Funds: 1754 Crown
Debts: 10860 Crown
Bi-Annual Income (Personal): 135 Crown
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 31%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 61% Cynicism: 39%
Ruthlessness: 39% Mercy: 61%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear Bane-hardened armour and wield a Bane-runed sword.
Friends and Associates
Javier Campos: Colour Sergeant, the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 583 OIE)
Victor d'al Reyes: Eldest son of Baron Reyes. Major, the 8th Regiment of Foot. Formerly Commander, the Experimental Corps of Riflemen.
(Born: 583 OIE)
James d'al Sandoral: Captain (half-pay), the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 592 OIE)
Enemies
Hiir Cassius vam Holt: Takaran Ambassador to Tierra. Eldest son to Richsgraav vam Holt.
(Born 527 OIE)
Eleanora d'al Welles): Countess Welles. Proponent of Military Reform. Friend to Isobel, the Princess-Royal. (Born 587 OIE)
"Y'not the only one, I can tell you that," Palliser admits. "I've got a townhouse off Saint Octavia's Park, holding a dinner there tonight, informal thing, no ladies, all old Antar men, like ourselves. Be honoured if you'd come. You're invited too, uncle," Hugh adds to Hawthorne. "The army couldn't have fought very well without you working day and night at Grenadier Square to keep us supplied."
The other baron offers a pained smile. "Very kind of you, but I fear I must sail for Fernandescourt early tomorrow, and I must see if I can't convince Cunaris to take on the Councilor-Militant's office."
Now that is interesting: your regimental colonel and immediate superior is being considered for the role of the senior soldier in the kingdom. Granted, he would take command of a much-diminished army, but it would be a fine reward for a man who already lost the use of his legs in the service of Crown and Kingdom.
"Why Cunaris, in particular?"
"Who better?" Hawthorne asks. "His military credentials are above reproach, his duchy practically runs itself, and he is seen as a man above political faction. What's more, his daughter is Duchess of Wulfram. If any man could talk sense into Young Wulfram's head, it is his father-by-marriage."
He shakes his head. "With Havenport too preoccupied with his clan's business to maintain himself at Grenadier Square, Cunaris is the best candidate for the job."
Viscount Palliser nods in agreement. "You was in his brigade at Second Kharangia, weren't you? Had a hard job of it, but Cunaris held on 'til me Lancers arrived. Ain't a better man for the job, I'd say, eh?" "In any case, my lords, I bid you joy of the evening," Hawthorne concludes. "I've a long journey ahead of me. Give my regards to Lady Hugh."
"Of course," Hugh replies. "Safe travels, uncle, and good luck."
Hawthorne gives one final nod before retreating back into the throng.
Palliser watches him go. "Shame thet. Hawthorne always knows what he's about when it comes to supply lines and billeting, demmed useful fellow him," he says regretfully before turning to you. "But you'll come, won't you Ezinbrooke? Lord Marcus will be there, two half-pay captains from your regiment too. Blaylock and Sandoral, they was yours, weren't they?"
~Lord Marcus, the younger brother of Duke Havenport - another man who, much like Hugh, could tolerate you. And your former lieutenants, to think that they are Captains now, same as you...~
You give it a thought. The promise of familiar faces and familiar subjects is a tempting one. The war was not all trumpets and glory, but some part of you still misses it. You must admit, the chance to talk about it with old comrades and acquaintances is—
"I beg pardon, I pray I am not interrupting."
You turn to the source of this new voice, somewhat annoyed at having your thoughts so suddenly interrupted.
That's when you find yourself face to face with the Duke of Wulfram.
---
Lord Hugh inclines his head politely. "Your Grace, how unexpected."
"I assure you, I shan't detain you for long," Wulfram says genially. "I merely wished to offer my congratulations to the newest Lord of the Cortes."
He turns to you. "Welcome, Lord Ezinbrooke. The chamber is made better for having one in it."
You say the only thing one can say when complimented by a Duke of the Unified Kingdom: "Thank you, Your Grace."
"I've also come to offer an invitation," Wulfram continues. "I've a dinner engagement at the Rendower Club this evening. I'd be quite pleased if you could join us."
An invitation for dinner with the Duke of Wulfram at his private club, that would certainly be an honour. But what of Palliser and Hugh? What of old comrades and the brotherhood of war? One cannot very well be in two places at once. And besides, what reason would Wulfram have to invite you to such a thing? After all, you just spoke out against him in the chamber, does that not make you enemies?
[As before, I will automatically take dialogue options that do not lock us out of other choices nor bear other mechanical consequences - unless I feel like doing so would be out of character for Alaric.]
"I'm not sure I understand. I just spoke against you."
"And that is cause to make one an enemy?" Wulfram asks. "I am sure you had your reasons for taking the position you did. What I want to know is what they are, where you stand on things, in your own words. If my conscience requires me to speak against you in the chamber, I would want to make sure that I know that I am speaking against your argument, as you see it, and not some figment conjured up by my own prejudices."
That seems rather good of him. "Your Grace is too kind," you reply.
"It is a matter of simple decency," Wulfram insists. "We are gentlemen of the blood, the least we can do is treat each other as such. Come to the Rendower with me, you will have every opportunity to explain your thoughts without a hundred Lords all trying to shout you down."
"I beg your pardon. What is the Rendower Club?"
"The Rendower?" Palliser seems genuinely surprised that you haven't heard of it. "Dear fellow, the Rendower ain't but the oldest club in Aetoria, and the most prestigious. Y'need royal blood just to be considered for entry." He seems about to say something else, but evidently thinks better of it.
"It's not quite as exclusive as it sounds," Wulfram replies with the twitch of a smile. "Practically every noble house in the Duchy of Aetoria has some Rendower blood in them. The House of Rendower is nothing if not prolific. Still, we have an excellent wine cellar and maintain a very fine chef, who was trained all the way in H'onneshanne."
Dinner at the oldest club in the city, with food prepared by a genuine Kian chef. That certainly carries an appeal with it, and if the Rendower truly is as exclusive as Palliser seems to think it is, then you would be rubbing shoulders with some of the most powerful men in the Unified Kingdom.
Wulfram turns to Palliser. "You are welcome to return as well, my lord, should you wish it."
Palliser shakes his head. "I fear I've already an engagement," he admits. "Some other time, eh?"
Wulfram nods before turning back to you. "So? Is it agreed then?" he asks expectantly. "One may be assured that one will never taste a finer roast duck in his life."
1) "My apologies, Your Grace, but I am already spoken for this evening."
2) "I'd be happy to accept your invitation, Your Grace."
[In case it is not apparent, rejecting Wulfram's invitation means that we will be taking Hugh and Palliser up on theirs for the evening - a branching choice that I will give you at least 20-24 hours to vote on.]
---
As of the Autumn of the 613 of the Old Imperial Era:
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga, Baron Ezinbrooke
Captain, Royal Dragoons (half-pay)
Age: 25
Current Funds: 1754 Crown
Debts: 10860 Crown
Bi-Annual Income (Personal): 135 Crown
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 31%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 61% Cynicism: 39%
Ruthlessness: 39% Mercy: 61%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear Bane-hardened armour and wield a Bane-runed sword.
Friends and Associates
Javier Campos: Colour Sergeant, the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 583 OIE)
Victor d'al Reyes: Eldest son of Baron Reyes. Major, the 8th Regiment of Foot. Formerly Commander, the Experimental Corps of Riflemen.
(Born: 583 OIE)
James d'al Sandoral: Captain (half-pay), the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 592 OIE)
Enemies
Hiir Cassius vam Holt: Takaran Ambassador to Tierra. Eldest son to Richsgraav vam Holt.
(Born 527 OIE)
Eleanora d'al Welles): Countess Welles. Proponent of Military Reform. Friend to Isobel, the Princess-Royal. (Born 587 OIE)
Last edited:
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Hilariously, our two former lieutenants - Blaylock and Sandoral - are now equal in rank to us.
A character could end Guns of Infinity as either Captain, Major, or Lieutenant Colonel. Naturally, we ended up entering this game with the lowest rank possible to do so (although more so due to the fact that we could not afford to pay the commission, rather than lack of merit.)
Not that it particularly matters for our civilian life, although it would've been nice for the sake of our monthly pay.
Other interesting details:
1. as per Hawthorne, Duke Cunaris' daughter is the wife of young Duke Wulfram. Not unusual, these are both the most prosperous regions so the match makes sense. But it does render the political divide in the Cortes all the messier - Wulfram is advocating for extreme anti-army measures while his father-in-law may soon become Councillor-Militant (second in command of the military, after the King himself.)
2. there is some fascinating (a)symmetry between Hawthorne and the young Duke Wulfram. Both spent the war in relative safety (Hawthorne was in charge of logistics it seems, not sure whether he operated at home or in Antar, while it is my impression that young Wulfram did not fight.) Hawthorne lost his son, Wulfram his father - in the same battle, even, the battle of Blogia. Yet the former is still in support of maintaining the war tax and the army, whereas the latter is vocally opposed to both. Perhaps each arrived at opposite conclusions stemming from a similiar sort of grief - then again, perhaps not.
A character could end Guns of Infinity as either Captain, Major, or Lieutenant Colonel. Naturally, we ended up entering this game with the lowest rank possible to do so (although more so due to the fact that we could not afford to pay the commission, rather than lack of merit.)
Not that it particularly matters for our civilian life, although it would've been nice for the sake of our monthly pay.
Other interesting details:
1. as per Hawthorne, Duke Cunaris' daughter is the wife of young Duke Wulfram. Not unusual, these are both the most prosperous regions so the match makes sense. But it does render the political divide in the Cortes all the messier - Wulfram is advocating for extreme anti-army measures while his father-in-law may soon become Councillor-Militant (second in command of the military, after the King himself.)
2. there is some fascinating (a)symmetry between Hawthorne and the young Duke Wulfram. Both spent the war in relative safety (Hawthorne was in charge of logistics it seems, not sure whether he operated at home or in Antar, while it is my impression that young Wulfram did not fight.) Hawthorne lost his son, Wulfram his father - in the same battle, even, the battle of Blogia. Yet the former is still in support of maintaining the war tax and the army, whereas the latter is vocally opposed to both. Perhaps each arrived at opposite conclusions stemming from a similiar sort of grief - then again, perhaps not.
Last edited:
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Some relevant parts of the reference:
Wulfram:
Aetoria, the capital of Tierra, and the district that Alaric may visit tonight:
Anyway, hopefully the tone for much of this book has been set - a lot of it is about intrigue, navigating social alliances, attending various functions, and trying to understand or exploit the political situation.
But that's only Aetoria - soon Alaric will depart for his barony, and there he will deal with matters that require more direct application of his authority, and conflicts of a more rustic sort.
In this book, we will have the opportunity to either spend the bulk of our time in Aetoria, or at our estate, or split our attention between both.
When that choice comes up, it will be quite explicit, so do not worry about it for now - but it might be good to keep different possibilities in mind, to consider in advance what kind of narrative you find more enjoyable, and what type of activities might suit Alaric the best.
Wulfram:
Aetoria, the capital of Tierra, and the district that Alaric may visit tonight:
Anyway, hopefully the tone for much of this book has been set - a lot of it is about intrigue, navigating social alliances, attending various functions, and trying to understand or exploit the political situation.
But that's only Aetoria - soon Alaric will depart for his barony, and there he will deal with matters that require more direct application of his authority, and conflicts of a more rustic sort.
In this book, we will have the opportunity to either spend the bulk of our time in Aetoria, or at our estate, or split our attention between both.
When that choice comes up, it will be quite explicit, so do not worry about it for now - but it might be good to keep different possibilities in mind, to consider in advance what kind of narrative you find more enjoyable, and what type of activities might suit Alaric the best.
Tentatively leaning towards 1) "My apologies, Your Grace, but I am already spoken for this evening."
I'm not so sure about the former, though the latter is a good point. Asking useful questions is the province of those with, y'know, maybe even 10% Intellect
. I suspect our role in that party would be a lot of smiling, nodding, and stumbling through heart-felt but ultimately banal (Charisma 43%...) explanations for why we've taken the position we have. It would be nice to gather useful social intelligence, but it seems Wulfram has tipped his hand - his intent is for us to do all the talking, not him and his compatriots:
OTOH turning Wulfram down risks making a permanent enemy.
Not sure here bros...
I'm not so sure about the former, though the latter is a good point. Asking useful questions is the province of those with, y'know, maybe even 10% Intellect
. I suspect our role in that party would be a lot of smiling, nodding, and stumbling through heart-felt but ultimately banal (Charisma 43%...) explanations for why we've taken the position we have. It would be nice to gather useful social intelligence, but it seems Wulfram has tipped his hand - his intent is for us to do all the talking, not him and his compatriots:OTOH turning Wulfram down risks making a permanent enemy.
Not sure here bros...
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Major_Blackhart where are you now, when you are needed most? You were a veritable firebrand during the Guns era, a true leader of men.
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