The Royal Dragoons must first scout the field before engaging, no?
-
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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
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
"Very well. A country ball, then."
The news of your decision throws the entire household into the beginnings of a frenzy. It is no small thing to put on a ball, and even now, months before the auspicious event, there are preparations to be made.
Starting with the guest list.
For days, you and Saundersley pore over the lists of those local figures of sufficient condition and reputation to warrant an invitation. The Touravons must obviously be invited, especially seeing as how you've been engaged to Lady Alisanne for more than long enough to be expected to set a date for a wedding. There are another two or three dozen Baneblooded families worth considering as well, but you're warned that not all of them are necessarily suitable for the occasion. There are those in your locality whom—though seemingly quite well-founded by wealth or birth—have accrued to their names such scandal as to make their appearance at any entertainment you might host more likely to give offense than add lustre.
So, the task already before you is compounded by the additional burden of weeding out these hidden dangers from the guest list. It proves a most onerous imposition, and you suspect you've done a rather imprecise job of it. These personages are none of them particularly well-known to you, and you wouldn't be surprised if you've condemned more than one otherwise faultless lady or gentleman to the pile of those not to be invited through your own sense of caution.
Still, you and Saundersley both agree, for an undertaking like this, it is far better to be safe than sorry.
Yet even with such efforts, the list of those invited still seems far shorter than you might have hoped. Had you, perhaps, the ability to invite some of your close acquaintances from your time in the King's service, you might have filled out the event nicely. Alas, you suppose any who might be willing to look upon such an invitation kindly are too distant to be worth inviting, not for a single evening's ball.
---
With the formal guest list drawn up, you move on to the matter of your tenants.
While it's true that the ball is first and foremost for the entertainment of your Baneblooded peers and neighbours, it has been the practice for some time in your part of the country to invite certain more distinguished tenants from the village to events such as these, as an example of the host's largesse, a token of especial favour for services rendered, or simply to fill out dance cards and banquet table seats.
It is a firmly rustic tradition, to be sure. No baneless tenant-farmer, no matter how respectable, possesses the polish necessary to mix easily with people of condition, and there are stories aplenty of drover's sons and shop clerk's daughters making themselves obnoxious to the embarrassment of all present. Yet the practise has persisted, mostly because it's an exceptionally popular one amongst the common folk, who glory in the prospect of eating and drinking and dancing like lords—or at least, how they expect lords to eat and dance and drink.
So popular is the practise that you've heard stories of some particularly miserly hosts who went so far as to raffle invitations off to their tenants, defraying some of the costs of holding such an entertainment in the first place by allowing the most humble of its attendants to be chosen by lot, rather than discretion. It is an utterly vulgar thing to do, of course, but even you must admit to its practical advantages.
1) I shall invite a few tenants, but only the most suitable.
2) Offering invitations to my tenants by lottery will help keep my expenses down.
3) My tenants make for unsuitable guests, but I might hire them on as extra staff…
4) No, best not to involve my tenants at all.
The news of your decision throws the entire household into the beginnings of a frenzy. It is no small thing to put on a ball, and even now, months before the auspicious event, there are preparations to be made.
Starting with the guest list.
For days, you and Saundersley pore over the lists of those local figures of sufficient condition and reputation to warrant an invitation. The Touravons must obviously be invited, especially seeing as how you've been engaged to Lady Alisanne for more than long enough to be expected to set a date for a wedding. There are another two or three dozen Baneblooded families worth considering as well, but you're warned that not all of them are necessarily suitable for the occasion. There are those in your locality whom—though seemingly quite well-founded by wealth or birth—have accrued to their names such scandal as to make their appearance at any entertainment you might host more likely to give offense than add lustre.
So, the task already before you is compounded by the additional burden of weeding out these hidden dangers from the guest list. It proves a most onerous imposition, and you suspect you've done a rather imprecise job of it. These personages are none of them particularly well-known to you, and you wouldn't be surprised if you've condemned more than one otherwise faultless lady or gentleman to the pile of those not to be invited through your own sense of caution.
Still, you and Saundersley both agree, for an undertaking like this, it is far better to be safe than sorry.
Yet even with such efforts, the list of those invited still seems far shorter than you might have hoped. Had you, perhaps, the ability to invite some of your close acquaintances from your time in the King's service, you might have filled out the event nicely. Alas, you suppose any who might be willing to look upon such an invitation kindly are too distant to be worth inviting, not for a single evening's ball.
---
With the formal guest list drawn up, you move on to the matter of your tenants.
While it's true that the ball is first and foremost for the entertainment of your Baneblooded peers and neighbours, it has been the practice for some time in your part of the country to invite certain more distinguished tenants from the village to events such as these, as an example of the host's largesse, a token of especial favour for services rendered, or simply to fill out dance cards and banquet table seats.
It is a firmly rustic tradition, to be sure. No baneless tenant-farmer, no matter how respectable, possesses the polish necessary to mix easily with people of condition, and there are stories aplenty of drover's sons and shop clerk's daughters making themselves obnoxious to the embarrassment of all present. Yet the practise has persisted, mostly because it's an exceptionally popular one amongst the common folk, who glory in the prospect of eating and drinking and dancing like lords—or at least, how they expect lords to eat and dance and drink.
So popular is the practise that you've heard stories of some particularly miserly hosts who went so far as to raffle invitations off to their tenants, defraying some of the costs of holding such an entertainment in the first place by allowing the most humble of its attendants to be chosen by lot, rather than discretion. It is an utterly vulgar thing to do, of course, but even you must admit to its practical advantages.
1) I shall invite a few tenants, but only the most suitable.
2) Offering invitations to my tenants by lottery will help keep my expenses down.
3) My tenants make for unsuitable guests, but I might hire them on as extra staff…
4) No, best not to involve my tenants at all.
As of the Winter of the 615 of the Old Imperial Era:
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga, Baron Ezinbrooke
Captain, Royal Dragoons (half-pay)
Age: 27
Current Funds: 1743 Crown
Debts: 10660 Crown
Bi-Annual Income (Personal): 135 Crown
Bi-Annual Estate Revenues: 264 Crown
Bi-Annual Estate Expenses: 350 Crown
Bi-Annual Interest Payments: 107 Crown
Total Net Income (Next Six Months): -58 Crown
Soldiering: 70%
Charisma: 41%
Intellect: 9%
Reputation: 46%
Health: 62%
Idealism: 54% ; Cynicism: 46%
Ruthlessness: 38% ; Mercy: 62%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear Bane-hardened armour and wield a Bane-runed sword.
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga, Baron Ezinbrooke
Captain, Royal Dragoons (half-pay)
Age: 27
Current Funds: 1743 Crown
Debts: 10660 Crown
Bi-Annual Income (Personal): 135 Crown
Bi-Annual Estate Revenues: 264 Crown
Bi-Annual Estate Expenses: 350 Crown
Bi-Annual Interest Payments: 107 Crown
Total Net Income (Next Six Months): -58 Crown
Soldiering: 70%
Charisma: 41%
Intellect: 9%
Reputation: 46%
Health: 62%
Idealism: 54% ; Cynicism: 46%
Ruthlessness: 38% ; Mercy: 62%
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. ~Lost arm at Blogia~
(Born: 583 OIE)
James d'al Sandoral: Captain (half-pay), the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 592 OIE)
Efraim Saundersley: Solicitor-on-Retainer to the House of Ortiga.
(Born 570 OIE)
Octave d'al Touravon: Baron Touravon, Father of Alisanne d'al Touravon.
(Born 556 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. ~Died at Blogia~
(Born 587 OIE)
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. ~Lost arm at Blogia~
(Born: 583 OIE)
James d'al Sandoral: Captain (half-pay), the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 592 OIE)
Efraim Saundersley: Solicitor-on-Retainer to the House of Ortiga.
(Born 570 OIE)
Octave d'al Touravon: Baron Touravon, Father of Alisanne d'al Touravon.
(Born 556 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. ~Died at Blogia~
(Born 587 OIE)
Ezinbrooke, a barony within the Duchy of Cunaris, possessed of 132 rent-paying households.
Respectability: 48%
Prosperity: 49%
Contentment: 38%
Manor...
…Being a country house of middling size in good condition, but of very rustic appearance. encompassed by a low stone fence in a state of much disrepair. Outbuildings include stables, coach house, and guard house, all in exceptionally poor condition.
Interior consists of eighteen rooms, including six bedrooms, a kitchen, a library, a small ballroom, a dovecote and a gun room.
Estate and Grounds...
…Being a barony of middling size, composed of a manor house, market village, and surrounding fields and hinterlands. It is located a week's ride west from the city of Fernandescourt, a journey rendered easier by the fine state of local roads.
The village of Ezinbrooke is a small hamlet, possessed of a traveller's inn, a publick house, a somewhat worn shrine to the major Saints, and an open market square. The surrounding cottages are few in number but of excellent condition, having recently been repaired and refurbished. Fields bound the village on all sides, and all available land is under cultivation.
Bi-Annual Estate Revenues
Rents: 264 Crown
Bi-Annual Expenditures
Estate Wages: 150 Crown
Food and Necessities: 75 Crown
Luxuries and Allowances: 75 Crown
Groundskeeping and Maintenance: 50 Crown
Other Expenses: 0 Crown
Total Balance: -86 Crown
Respectability: 48%
Prosperity: 49%
Contentment: 38%
Manor...
…Being a country house of middling size in good condition, but of very rustic appearance. encompassed by a low stone fence in a state of much disrepair. Outbuildings include stables, coach house, and guard house, all in exceptionally poor condition.
Interior consists of eighteen rooms, including six bedrooms, a kitchen, a library, a small ballroom, a dovecote and a gun room.
Estate and Grounds...
…Being a barony of middling size, composed of a manor house, market village, and surrounding fields and hinterlands. It is located a week's ride west from the city of Fernandescourt, a journey rendered easier by the fine state of local roads.
The village of Ezinbrooke is a small hamlet, possessed of a traveller's inn, a publick house, a somewhat worn shrine to the major Saints, and an open market square. The surrounding cottages are few in number but of excellent condition, having recently been repaired and refurbished. Fields bound the village on all sides, and all available land is under cultivation.
Bi-Annual Estate Revenues
Rents: 264 Crown
Bi-Annual Expenditures
Estate Wages: 150 Crown
Food and Necessities: 75 Crown
Luxuries and Allowances: 75 Crown
Groundskeeping and Maintenance: 50 Crown
Other Expenses: 0 Crown
Total Balance: -86 Crown
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Given a frankly shocking lack of raucous applause and adoring message flooding my inbox, I should note that my previous quip re: balls was a not meant in earnest but rather as a sophisticated and nuanced joke. I was exercising irony, you see, by characterizing the passage as featuring a supposedly anachronistic, ignorant, and gratuitous reference to sports - when in reality any and all sports references were conjured out of thin air by a deliberate misinterpretation on my part. I committed, one might say, an intentional fox pass (though you probably lack the intelligentsia to know what that means, mon amiss.) And with that elegant instance of textual misdirection, with that perfectly executed feint, I - a bonafide paragon of humility and self-awareness - graced you, the unwashed and smegma-smeared masses, with the sort of satire that may be known to your vulgar minds as the "pot calling the kettle black."
Perhaps in the future my intent can be appropriate acknowledged by, I don't know, several dozen messages complimenting my wit. Or with a couple of dead animals in my mailbox.
Its the least you could fucking do.
Perhaps in the future my intent can be appropriate acknowledged by, I don't know, several dozen messages complimenting my wit. Or with a couple of dead animals in my mailbox.
Its the least you could fucking do.
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2012
- Messages
- 30,180
The grace with which you humbly admit your virtues is surpassed only by the wit you display.
1
Flop to 1.
Last edited:
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
[Sorry, fell off the whole "carousel of life" thingy for a few days.
Rolled to resolve tie between options 1 and 3.
And the winner is:]
I shall invite a few tenants, but only the most suitable.
It isn't too difficult to assemble a dozen or so names of those of your tenants most worthy of being added to your list of invitees. They are all of them what might be considered pillars of the community: local leaders, particularly respected shopkeepers, young men of unusually polished manner, and young women of particular attractiveness.
Of course, "worthy" is a relative term. Out of the whole lot, you can only imagine Saundersley—with his classical university education and attitudes more fit for a member of the minor gentry than the commons—dealing with the truly genteel inhabitants of the Baneblooded aristocracy with anything resembling the appropriate decorum. You have little doubt that your invited tenants, for all of the respectability they may command in the village, will make complete oafs of themselves in the manor, and do much to mar any attempt to uphold an air of refinement.
You know it, they know it. Yet when you send the invitations out, those lucky few thus selected are, by all accounts, overjoyed. More than one sends a handwritten letter of thanks. Almost all come to pay their respects in person, never mind the cold autumn rains.
In many ways, Baneblood and commoner live in altogether different worlds, and it is a rare occasion indeed when the latter might be allowed entry into the realm of the former in any capacity save that of a servant. To offer such folk a chance to do so is to give them a reason to think very highly of you, indeed.
And that gratitude is more than worth the trouble of earning it.
---
Fall yields to winter, but the cold season proves a mild one, certainly far less terrible than the one which came before. The rain still turns to snow, of course, but the drifts of white which cover your lands this year prove a far more threadbare blanket than the thick coat of the year past. On most days, it's even possible to go out of doors with little inconvenience, the weather being cold enough to freeze the ground solid, but not so cold as to make the outside entirely inhospitable.
Through it all, your preparations continue. Though the ball is still weeks away, there is still much to do, especially if you intend for your guests to leave at the end of the evening with the desired impression. If you mean to ensure the success of your enterprise, you'll have to take every measure possible to delight, excite, and otherwise overawe those on your invitation list.
There are some things your guests are almost certain to expect as a given. They'll want a good dinner, to be sure, the more fashionable and expensive the fare, the better. Good music too, they will expect. You're likely to be unable to get away with anything less than a professional ensemble of musicians.
You're also likely to need to have new clothes made for the evening. While you're too far from Aetoria to be expected to appear in the very latest fashion, you will still be expected to make some sort of an effort—and the tall river-and-mountain boots of your dress uniform may look quite handsome when you're standing up straight, but you very much doubt they'll be anything but great encumbrances on the dance floor.
Then, perhaps, there is the most frivolous and extraordinary measure of all.
You've been informed that it has recently once again become the fashion to accompany the staging of a ball or other great entertainment by the illumination of the outside of one's house with a profusion of lanterns, outlining the site of such a revel with what appears from a distance like a great, ghostly halo of bright light. It is an undertaking which is likely to be of great expense and trouble, as you must have the lanterns made and positioned on site, but it may perhaps be just what's needed to distinguish your ball as truly memorable.
If you can justify the cost.
1) I will budget 75 Crown for the hiring of musicians.
2) It's time I made arrangements for food and drink.
3) I must see to new outfits.
4) I shall spend an extra 50 Crown for preparations to illuminate the house.
Rolled to resolve tie between options 1 and 3.
And the winner is:]
I shall invite a few tenants, but only the most suitable.
It isn't too difficult to assemble a dozen or so names of those of your tenants most worthy of being added to your list of invitees. They are all of them what might be considered pillars of the community: local leaders, particularly respected shopkeepers, young men of unusually polished manner, and young women of particular attractiveness.
Of course, "worthy" is a relative term. Out of the whole lot, you can only imagine Saundersley—with his classical university education and attitudes more fit for a member of the minor gentry than the commons—dealing with the truly genteel inhabitants of the Baneblooded aristocracy with anything resembling the appropriate decorum. You have little doubt that your invited tenants, for all of the respectability they may command in the village, will make complete oafs of themselves in the manor, and do much to mar any attempt to uphold an air of refinement.
You know it, they know it. Yet when you send the invitations out, those lucky few thus selected are, by all accounts, overjoyed. More than one sends a handwritten letter of thanks. Almost all come to pay their respects in person, never mind the cold autumn rains.
In many ways, Baneblood and commoner live in altogether different worlds, and it is a rare occasion indeed when the latter might be allowed entry into the realm of the former in any capacity save that of a servant. To offer such folk a chance to do so is to give them a reason to think very highly of you, indeed.
And that gratitude is more than worth the trouble of earning it.
---
Fall yields to winter, but the cold season proves a mild one, certainly far less terrible than the one which came before. The rain still turns to snow, of course, but the drifts of white which cover your lands this year prove a far more threadbare blanket than the thick coat of the year past. On most days, it's even possible to go out of doors with little inconvenience, the weather being cold enough to freeze the ground solid, but not so cold as to make the outside entirely inhospitable.
Through it all, your preparations continue. Though the ball is still weeks away, there is still much to do, especially if you intend for your guests to leave at the end of the evening with the desired impression. If you mean to ensure the success of your enterprise, you'll have to take every measure possible to delight, excite, and otherwise overawe those on your invitation list.
There are some things your guests are almost certain to expect as a given. They'll want a good dinner, to be sure, the more fashionable and expensive the fare, the better. Good music too, they will expect. You're likely to be unable to get away with anything less than a professional ensemble of musicians.
You're also likely to need to have new clothes made for the evening. While you're too far from Aetoria to be expected to appear in the very latest fashion, you will still be expected to make some sort of an effort—and the tall river-and-mountain boots of your dress uniform may look quite handsome when you're standing up straight, but you very much doubt they'll be anything but great encumbrances on the dance floor.
Then, perhaps, there is the most frivolous and extraordinary measure of all.
You've been informed that it has recently once again become the fashion to accompany the staging of a ball or other great entertainment by the illumination of the outside of one's house with a profusion of lanterns, outlining the site of such a revel with what appears from a distance like a great, ghostly halo of bright light. It is an undertaking which is likely to be of great expense and trouble, as you must have the lanterns made and positioned on site, but it may perhaps be just what's needed to distinguish your ball as truly memorable.
If you can justify the cost.
1) I will budget 75 Crown for the hiring of musicians.
2) It's time I made arrangements for food and drink.
3) I must see to new outfits.
4) I shall spend an extra 50 Crown for preparations to illuminate the house.
As of the Winter of the 615 of the Old Imperial Era:
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga, Baron Ezinbrooke
Captain, Royal Dragoons (half-pay)
Age: 27
Current Funds: 1743 Crown
Debts: 10660 Crown
Bi-Annual Income (Personal): 135 Crown
Bi-Annual Estate Revenues: 264 Crown
Bi-Annual Estate Expenses: 350 Crown
Bi-Annual Interest Payments: 107 Crown
Total Net Income (Next Six Months): -58 Crown
Soldiering: 70%
Charisma: 41%
Intellect: 9%
Reputation: 46%
Health: 62%
Idealism: 54% ; Cynicism: 46%
Ruthlessness: 38% ; Mercy: 62%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear Bane-hardened armour and wield a Bane-runed sword.
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga, Baron Ezinbrooke
Captain, Royal Dragoons (half-pay)
Age: 27
Current Funds: 1743 Crown
Debts: 10660 Crown
Bi-Annual Income (Personal): 135 Crown
Bi-Annual Estate Revenues: 264 Crown
Bi-Annual Estate Expenses: 350 Crown
Bi-Annual Interest Payments: 107 Crown
Total Net Income (Next Six Months): -58 Crown
Soldiering: 70%
Charisma: 41%
Intellect: 9%
Reputation: 46%
Health: 62%
Idealism: 54% ; Cynicism: 46%
Ruthlessness: 38% ; Mercy: 62%
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. ~Lost arm at Blogia~
(Born: 583 OIE)
James d'al Sandoral: Captain (half-pay), the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 592 OIE)
Efraim Saundersley: Solicitor-on-Retainer to the House of Ortiga.
(Born 570 OIE)
Octave d'al Touravon: Baron Touravon, Father of Alisanne d'al Touravon.
(Born 556 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. ~Died at Blogia~
(Born 587 OIE)
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. ~Lost arm at Blogia~
(Born: 583 OIE)
James d'al Sandoral: Captain (half-pay), the Royal Dragoons.
(Born 592 OIE)
Efraim Saundersley: Solicitor-on-Retainer to the House of Ortiga.
(Born 570 OIE)
Octave d'al Touravon: Baron Touravon, Father of Alisanne d'al Touravon.
(Born 556 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. ~Died at Blogia~
(Born 587 OIE)
Ezinbrooke, a barony within the Duchy of Cunaris, possessed of 132 rent-paying households.
Respectability: 48%
Prosperity: 49%
Contentment: 38%
Manor...
…Being a country house of middling size in good condition, but of very rustic appearance. encompassed by a low stone fence in a state of much disrepair. Outbuildings include stables, coach house, and guard house, all in exceptionally poor condition.
Interior consists of eighteen rooms, including six bedrooms, a kitchen, a library, a small ballroom, a dovecote and a gun room.
Estate and Grounds...
…Being a barony of middling size, composed of a manor house, market village, and surrounding fields and hinterlands. It is located a week's ride west from the city of Fernandescourt, a journey rendered easier by the fine state of local roads.
The village of Ezinbrooke is a small hamlet, possessed of a traveller's inn, a publick house, a somewhat worn shrine to the major Saints, and an open market square. The surrounding cottages are few in number but of excellent condition, having recently been repaired and refurbished. Fields bound the village on all sides, and all available land is under cultivation.
Bi-Annual Estate Revenues
Rents: 264 Crown
Bi-Annual Expenditures
Estate Wages: 150 Crown
Food and Necessities: 75 Crown
Luxuries and Allowances: 75 Crown
Groundskeeping and Maintenance: 50 Crown
Other Expenses: 0 Crown
Total Balance: -86 Crown
Respectability: 48%
Prosperity: 49%
Contentment: 38%
Manor...
…Being a country house of middling size in good condition, but of very rustic appearance. encompassed by a low stone fence in a state of much disrepair. Outbuildings include stables, coach house, and guard house, all in exceptionally poor condition.
Interior consists of eighteen rooms, including six bedrooms, a kitchen, a library, a small ballroom, a dovecote and a gun room.
Estate and Grounds...
…Being a barony of middling size, composed of a manor house, market village, and surrounding fields and hinterlands. It is located a week's ride west from the city of Fernandescourt, a journey rendered easier by the fine state of local roads.
The village of Ezinbrooke is a small hamlet, possessed of a traveller's inn, a publick house, a somewhat worn shrine to the major Saints, and an open market square. The surrounding cottages are few in number but of excellent condition, having recently been repaired and refurbished. Fields bound the village on all sides, and all available land is under cultivation.
Bi-Annual Estate Revenues
Rents: 264 Crown
Bi-Annual Expenditures
Estate Wages: 150 Crown
Food and Necessities: 75 Crown
Luxuries and Allowances: 75 Crown
Groundskeeping and Maintenance: 50 Crown
Other Expenses: 0 Crown
Total Balance: -86 Crown
Do I understand our choices to mean we only get to pick one? That seems a little strange.
You can pick more in the game. Think this is more what comes first.
I say pay max for everything.
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Yeah, I did not check ahead as I usually do - now I see that there is a fuckton of nested choices. Let's just proceed with the vote as-is, with the understanding that you are just prioritizing the matter you want to attend to first as Kipeci is saying, and when we return to this branch I will figure out a more optimal way of presenting these choices.
4.
2.
No apology is needed. It is your free time that you
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2012
- Messages
- 30,180
Speak for yourself. I am annoyed that I had to go do productive stuff.
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
I shall spend an extra 50 Crown for preparations to illuminate the house.
The fundamentals behind the process of illumination are easy enough to grasp. Through the use of a multitude of paper lanterns, you could endeavour to light up the whole of the outside of your house. In daytime, such a scheme would have little effect, but once the sun sets, the intensity of the lanterns' glow against the darkness of night would be so spectacular that the reflected light from them would make your house seem like an edifice chiseled from a single piece of luminous white marble. Thus you'd be able to display your manor to the most extraordinary effect, based solely upon the simple principle of reflected light.
Unfortunately, as you've learned many times before, simple does not mean easy.
The construction of the lanterns themselves are the most vexatious obstacle, for you quickly learn that the sort of lights which are commonly used for village festivals and the like burn far too red and too dull to be used for the desired effect. Thus you must order cleaner, brighter-burning lights from the city, along with a special translucent paper which is evidently only made in Kian.
The materials take weeks to arrive, and when they do, you find much of it spoiled by the long voyage through the cold and the wet. Even once you finally determine that you have enough remaining to complete your scheme, there's still the task of actually assembling the lanterns, a tedious and lengthy task which your servants bear little love for, especially as you are to need well over two hundred of them.
When the last lantern is finally finished, you cannot even bring yourself to feel relief. As fragile as they are, the lanterns will only be able to be hung out on the day of the ball, and if the day in question proves rainy or too windy, then all your efforts will be for naught.
In the meantime, all you can do is pray for good weather and hope the effect will be worth the time and effort so many have spent working on it.
---
1. ~Music?~
a) I will budget 75 Crown for the hiring of musicians.
b) ~Most certainly not - whimsical tunes and meandering medlies are best reserved for the likes of Wulframites, degenerates, and dandy-men.~
---
It's time I made arrangements for food and drink.
Though you understand things to be quite different in Aetoria and the other great cities, a country ball is as much banquet as dance. The finest tailoring and the loveliest ornaments in creation will do you little good if you can offer only the relatively meagre table of a country baron's everyday fare. For this occasion, you shall have to make especial effort regarding the food and drink on offer. It will be no small expenditure-you expect to spend at least 35 Crown in ingredients-but it may well be necessary.
Briefly, you consider the possibility of crowning your entertainment with some spectacular piece of cookery, of the sort now popular in Aetoria and the other great cities of the realm—but alas, the antiquated and cramped facilities of your own kitchens can allow for no such extravagance, and there's no time to order the rebuilding of the kitchens now.
In that regard, you shall have to do the best with what you have.
2. ~Food?~
a) The food may have a rustic air, but it will have only the finest ingredients.
b) We must make do with what we've got.
---
I must see to new outfits.
It isn't merely enough to host a ball; one must be seen to do so. As the host, you shall necessarily be a centre of attention, and if the attention that you attract reveals you to be a shabby dresser, then whatever lustre the hosting of a successful ball might add to your reputation would almost certainly be cancelled out by the stigma you'd gain as an unattractive and tasteless drab.
Thus, if you wish to promote yourself to your guests as fashionable and astute—as a man well abreast of the times and well capable of reading the prevailing winds of favour—you shall have to devote some attention to your own presentation and the presentation of your household.
Unfortunately, it would necessarily mean ordering new suits of clothes from Fernandescourt. While your present wardrobe is certainly more than sufficient for your current everyday needs, almost all of it—save your dress uniform—dates from either before your departure for the army, or is entirely unsuitable for any formal occasion. While you suppose you could order your servants to simply attempt to modify your existing formal outfits, you have no doubt that without the tools or the patterns needed to copy current fashions exactly, the result would be far from perfect.
If you are to make a good impression, you will likely be obliged to commission a tailor from Fernandescourt for entirely new suits of clothes, something which might easy cost you fifty Crown.
3. ~Threads?~
a) I must send to Fernandescourt to have appropriate suits of clothes made.
b) I can afford only to make do with what we have.
The fundamentals behind the process of illumination are easy enough to grasp. Through the use of a multitude of paper lanterns, you could endeavour to light up the whole of the outside of your house. In daytime, such a scheme would have little effect, but once the sun sets, the intensity of the lanterns' glow against the darkness of night would be so spectacular that the reflected light from them would make your house seem like an edifice chiseled from a single piece of luminous white marble. Thus you'd be able to display your manor to the most extraordinary effect, based solely upon the simple principle of reflected light.
Unfortunately, as you've learned many times before, simple does not mean easy.
The construction of the lanterns themselves are the most vexatious obstacle, for you quickly learn that the sort of lights which are commonly used for village festivals and the like burn far too red and too dull to be used for the desired effect. Thus you must order cleaner, brighter-burning lights from the city, along with a special translucent paper which is evidently only made in Kian.
The materials take weeks to arrive, and when they do, you find much of it spoiled by the long voyage through the cold and the wet. Even once you finally determine that you have enough remaining to complete your scheme, there's still the task of actually assembling the lanterns, a tedious and lengthy task which your servants bear little love for, especially as you are to need well over two hundred of them.
When the last lantern is finally finished, you cannot even bring yourself to feel relief. As fragile as they are, the lanterns will only be able to be hung out on the day of the ball, and if the day in question proves rainy or too windy, then all your efforts will be for naught.
In the meantime, all you can do is pray for good weather and hope the effect will be worth the time and effort so many have spent working on it.
---
1. ~Music?~
a) I will budget 75 Crown for the hiring of musicians.
b) ~Most certainly not - whimsical tunes and meandering medlies are best reserved for the likes of Wulframites, degenerates, and dandy-men.~
---
It's time I made arrangements for food and drink.
Though you understand things to be quite different in Aetoria and the other great cities, a country ball is as much banquet as dance. The finest tailoring and the loveliest ornaments in creation will do you little good if you can offer only the relatively meagre table of a country baron's everyday fare. For this occasion, you shall have to make especial effort regarding the food and drink on offer. It will be no small expenditure-you expect to spend at least 35 Crown in ingredients-but it may well be necessary.
Briefly, you consider the possibility of crowning your entertainment with some spectacular piece of cookery, of the sort now popular in Aetoria and the other great cities of the realm—but alas, the antiquated and cramped facilities of your own kitchens can allow for no such extravagance, and there's no time to order the rebuilding of the kitchens now.
In that regard, you shall have to do the best with what you have.
2. ~Food?~
a) The food may have a rustic air, but it will have only the finest ingredients.
b) We must make do with what we've got.
---
I must see to new outfits.
It isn't merely enough to host a ball; one must be seen to do so. As the host, you shall necessarily be a centre of attention, and if the attention that you attract reveals you to be a shabby dresser, then whatever lustre the hosting of a successful ball might add to your reputation would almost certainly be cancelled out by the stigma you'd gain as an unattractive and tasteless drab.
Thus, if you wish to promote yourself to your guests as fashionable and astute—as a man well abreast of the times and well capable of reading the prevailing winds of favour—you shall have to devote some attention to your own presentation and the presentation of your household.
Unfortunately, it would necessarily mean ordering new suits of clothes from Fernandescourt. While your present wardrobe is certainly more than sufficient for your current everyday needs, almost all of it—save your dress uniform—dates from either before your departure for the army, or is entirely unsuitable for any formal occasion. While you suppose you could order your servants to simply attempt to modify your existing formal outfits, you have no doubt that without the tools or the patterns needed to copy current fashions exactly, the result would be far from perfect.
If you are to make a good impression, you will likely be obliged to commission a tailor from Fernandescourt for entirely new suits of clothes, something which might easy cost you fifty Crown.
3. ~Threads?~
a) I must send to Fernandescourt to have appropriate suits of clothes made.
b) I can afford only to make do with what we have.
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