AspenIvan

The Black Prophecy (Dead now; requiescat in pace!)

Any room for another late joiner?

The Reign of Sorcerers

Chronicle of Pennaeth Nolwenn ach Dinordow, Ranger of the Freeholds.

I first encountered the Ranger in the Second Year of Ioulianos, King of Koloneia Pharosia. I left the Great Academy, which I had entered a freeman, a slave of that King. I was to be sold to some Dobun warlord or another, for Ioulianos’ troubled succession and the rumors of his poor sorcery produced a need to appease his neighbors. Gifts like me, a capable scribe and scholar, were particularly prized in the city courts of Dobunia.

I was not entirely stripped of dignity. I carried only a small mark on he back of my hand, neither the scalding forehead-brands nor the hand-binding rope of the other slaves. I was allowed to keep my family spear, sword, and helm. For such privileges, I was expected to keep watch over the others and assist the mercenaries in protecting our woeful caravan. Gods’ blessings that when the time came, I chose not to.

When the first arrow transfixed the caravan master’s neck, nearly severing his head, by some spell I saw with clarity. The mercenaries may have noticed signs : Our assailant moved too fast and too quietly for one burdened with such arms and armor, sling-lead hit and bounced but did not slow her, and she drew a sword longer than a man’s arm and glowing white as if freshly molded – yet it held its shape through the battle. But I, from the first blood drawn, knew what legend had ambushed us. I threw down my weapons and fell to my knees.

_____

The sounds of the forest on either side of the sandstone road, moments ago drowned in the cries of wounded soldiers and panicked cart-horses, were breaking through again over the receding din of post-battle. The horses now found their composure and snorted instead of screaming, the dying went from shouting to moans and coughs as their life-force faded, and the slaves in their chain of ropes chattered in anticipation instead of crying in fear as they deduced who stood before them. And so the birds and frogs and rodents cautiously returned with their chatter. To Nolwenn, it was a welcome sign. The world settling back into place, a tad more balanced than a minute before. In this little corner of this little wood, there were more slavers, no more guards – Well, one more guard.

So one decided not to fight. It wouldn’t have been the first time. She remembered killing Cadoc. After that arrow entered his eye, that bear of a man fell face-forward onto his stone floor with a crunch. Every court advisor and retainer in sight was on their knees. Whether they feared her or the rumble of the rebel horde behind her, they had the sense not to push the fight. Of course, the mob didn’t spare them. But this was different – it was good to have a survivor carry word home, to spread fear among the slavers. And if she played her cards right, Nolwenn could bleed her enemies’ coffers a little extra with a ransom for the man and his equipment.

“What is your name?”

“Agathon,” wheezed the wide-eyed man, black curly hair and beard already dripping with sweat and body shaking in terror. Slowly, he bowed, resting his hands on the road. “Spare me, Tyrantsbane! I am chattel like the others, chains or not! I have long left the world of propertied citizens of the Polis, and kneel before you a branded man.” He raised his right hand to show her the King’s Mark.

He talks like a poet, but with an accent. Fancy words, too. Doesn’t seem like a bondsman, except for the mark, but... She looked to his weapons laying in the dirt, then to his hand still aloft – a soft hand ...not a soldier either.

“Easy there, Agathon,” Nolwenn reassured the man, bending her knees to bring her gaze level to his. She sheathed her fire-sword to free a blood-stained glove, which she rested on his shoulder. Her eyes looked directly into his - mellow amber into still-twitching brown. She asked calmly, “Polis? Citizen? You’re using words I don’t understand.”

Her tone seemed to calm Agathon, though still cognizant that he was looking into the eyes of a Sorcerer. He took in a deep breath. “I’m from Koloneia Pharosia, on the Southern Coast. I once had lands and a family name and nearly a scholar’s reputation, but the King decided I was better as a bartering chip.”

A Pharosian scribe. Heard of those, the free ones grow wealthy from taxes and the bonded are the sort that pulls rank on other slaves. But this one’s been humbled... Nolwenn smiled. “Almost had a bard’s kyne but got whisked away as an apprentice, eh?” She stood. “Undo the ropes holding the others. Then give your weapons and helm to the them, as galanas for your role in keeping them tied up.” She doubted Agathon was much good in a fight, so the equipment would be better in the hands of more motivated freedfolk. “From there you can follow me back to Dinordow or go your own way.”

Nolwenn turned to the others. “You are all free of your bonds,” she announced as Agathon set to work on the ropes. “Go your own way if you wish, or follow me and find a place in the Freeholds. And, of course, take anything you want from the dead slavers. With or without me, always best to travel with arms and a few valuables.” Well, except for the Scribe, he’ll probably have to follow me.

Suddenly, she caught something in the corner of her eye. A bird...no, a winged lizard! Another sorcerer’s scout. In a flash, her bow was drawn and arrow loose, splitting the creature apart.

“On second thought, all of you should follow me. Some lord or another has eyes here.”

Notes

Nolwenn raids a slaver caravan, freeing among others an educated slave from Koloneia Pharosia – a Southern Dobunian city ruled by Islanders.

Nolwenn spots one of Calign’s “ravens” and shoots it down, suspecting it is a spy from a local sorcerer-lord. To save the former slaves from the inevitable fugitive-hunters to follow, she instructs them to follow her to Dinordow.

The Reign of Sorcerers

Nolwenn

Identity: Pennaeth Nolwenn ach Dinordow: Forgemaster of Dinordow, Ranger of the Freeholds, and Tyrantsbane

Potency: Six years into her “reign” as a sorcerer, Nolwenn is still testing and learning the nature of her Power. This much is clear : Given even the most mundane of rocks, she can mold them into bronze of the finest quality. Nor does the smith need flame or hammer to ply her trade : Norwenn’s fingers render the toughest stone into molten sludge, and her palms shape any substance effortlessly without fear for burns, cuts, or bruising. Moreover, not by Norwenn’s whim but seemingly because her power has a mind of its own, a few of her creations possess unusual qualities. This applies foremost to her personal tools and weapons. Arrows and javelins are known to break against her armor without making a dent, but a single arrow from her own bow can pierce through shield and plate. Her sword glows white hot, but retains its shape with incredible stubbornness. Still, occasionally, power will pass into an object crafted for another : A scythe made like any other allows a farmer to reap three heads of grain for every stalk it cuts, and a helmet intended as a gift restores the eyes and ears of a grievously wounded veteran. Thus far, at the direction of her followers, Norwenn has taken such blessings to mark “chosen” devotees. The farmer now leads the council of her freehold, and the veteran sits on Norwenn’s council of war. But neither the sorceress nor her comrades really know the intentions of whatever presence accompanies her abilities. Is it the ancient War Goddess Nuada guiding a champion? A mountain spirit following the terms of an unspoken pact? A remnant of the Chaos, working according to “logic” beyond mortal reason?

Ambition: Is there such a thing as a “good” King? Perhaps, but if so Nolwenn hasn’t seen it yet. With Kings come governors, tax collectors, mercenaries, and slave-drivers. Under a “good” King, are the slaves happy and free? Do the mouths of hungry villagers come before the war-chest? Nolwenn doubts it. So she fights first to defend a different way of living, and second to purge the old way as far as her power can reach.

Life: Since her days as a simple apprentice, Nolwenn was a prolific craftswoman. But such skill means little for the reputation of no-name bondsfolk, children of no-name bondsfolk. In the lands of Donubia – the fertile, hilly crossroads of the island kingdoms to the South, the Dragon’s tributaries and Ziggurat Empires across the deserts to the East, and the herd clans to the West – the esteemed court-slave is no less subject to the whims of their sorcerer-lord than the rural serf, and perhaps more so for sheer proximity. They do as their lords command, and for Nolwenn this was tending to the war-forges of the Druidlord Cadoc in his capital of Din Cadoc. Her javelins flew in his retaliations against tax evaders and fugitives, and her plating insulated his Staff of Power as it drove rivers away from Cadoc’s enemies – starving entire villages to demonstrate his authority.

Yet, the clever bondswoman worked harder than her lord realized. Weapons flowed also to storehouses for secret collaborators, and a remarkable bronze-plated bow into her own hands. The Staff of Power was no use when Nolwenn’s arrow landed in Cadoc’s eye, nor could it even hold its form when she shattered it upon her forge’s anvil. But the Power itself did not die...it simply moved and assumed new form. Nolwenn found herself the new Sorcerer – but she would not assume the title of Lord. She would only be Pennaeth – Warchief and Protector. There would be no more bondsfolk or dynasts in Din Cadoc- now renamed Dinordow. The people would rule themselves.

From there, the Ranger worked systematically. Every hillfort of every governor Cadoc had appointed was overrun, and its satellite villages united under councils of their former serfs and slaves – turned free cultivators and artisans. Now the Forgemaster of Dinordow protects a loose but sizeable confederacy of such freeholds. Despite three years of peace, even the masters of the greater cities of Donubia fear the growing power of Tyrantsbane and the disturbingly well-equipped militias that follow her.

The Reign of Sorcerers

Room for a slightly late entry? :)

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

The gardener's here! @Muttonhawk @Cyclone @BBeast

"Apademi"

Name: Apademi

Their Parentage:
For ages after the river’s creation, a latent pool of spirit energy lay over the Nanhe Delta, unconsciously tending to the land and its resident life. However, when Shengshi commanded an unprecedented divine flood, Apademi was awoken and given form. She dutifully recognized her divine parent, and Shengshi recognized her. Although the rude overturning of her previous life and home left a bitter taste, the River God has also given her new abilities and vast knowledge. She has the opportunity to find a new place and a new role in a new Garden. Her own Garden.

Portfolio: Settlement
Details, details, details! Father may have the broad strokes down -and yes, he takes special interest in particulars from time to time- but *someone* has to see it through, point by point, on the ground! A proper Garden requires precision and consistency! I’ll need to convince some lesser beings to congregate here and - no, not like that, not moving from place to place every season! Alright, I will offer you the terrain you need, I have my father’s blood after all - Bend the river a bit that way, make this part a tad less swampy, make the rains and flooding a bit more predictable, and -ah- a nice raised position here to keep watch over the plants - yes, you can also keep watch for no-good pilfering nomads. That’s right, you’re not roamers anymore, trampling over a perfectly good place and stealing everything just to move on to another. Why yes, you can depend on my protection, I’ll lead your warbands personally if I must as a giant among you! If you’re going to tend to my garden, you’re damn well going to be my people, and you know I take my duties seriously!
(Summary: Apademi has
1) The supernatural charisma to inspire lesser beings to settle chosen lands, consider them a permanent home, and defend them.
2) Lesser powers derived from her parentage, to adjust the details of local climate and geography to make it optimally suitable for settlement.
3) The size, strength, durability, and ferocity to be a serious obstacle to any non-divine invaders).

Persona:
Apademi is a Gardener. Committed, patient, and (almost pathologically) detail-oriented. She values reciprocal duty and devotion to defined roles, such as her own duty to further the work of her father through her role as a steward of living spaces. However, she believes such an Order requires honesty and transparency from all, with neither despotism from above nor mindless servility from below. She seeks to work through inspiration, persuasion, and Contract rather than domination. That being said, the swift and cold justice of violence is a tool she will employ without hesitation against enemies of her work.

Appearance/Form:
Awakened from her riverside rest, Apademi arose as a 20-foot humanoid with bones of thick root, flesh of rocks and soil, eyes of multiform amber shards, and hair organized into rows of golden rye, peach sorghum, crimson sumac, and brown millet. She pulled from the ground a glaive of stone haft and diamond blade, which she has found equally useful for threshing and fighting.

Musical Theme:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0o2aBk86UKY

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

@Muttonhawk

Thank you for the swift reply! I am interested in playing Apademi, a demigoddess who sees herself as a Gardener. As far as Portfolios go, I am thinking something along the lines of Agriculture or Settlement. Both in temperament and the obvious greater source of the domain she aspires to, Shengshi seems like the natural progenitor. But I am open to anything.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. III. Finished in Record Time™!

Hey folks! I am interested in playing a demigod if there's room! Considering Shengshj as a parent.

With Machine Gun and Sword: The Age of Warlords

Huinan Commune and Dhanga Autonomy Party, Winter Red Turban Party Congress, Part 2

Rinchen nodded politely as her compatriot droned on to her left - something about factories and the need for certain ores to produce some new explosive. The details of it were over her head, but she knew that this particular warlord had a penchant for wasting resources on new, experimental designs, each of which he swore would end the war in a day. She wanted no part in his next scheme, but gave him the courtesy of her attention. It didn’t do to make enemies, not in such uncertain times.

She glanced over at Wise Brother in between sentences. Whether he or one of his allies would approach her was the question of the day. She had always made clear the conditions of her support; perhaps uniquely among ideologies and cliques she was of a more mercenary mindset. Would he meet her conditions? She wasn’t sure she trusted him to. A man who would slaughter his allies once might do it again, when they were no longer of use to him.

“Madam?”

“Oh, my apologies.” She smiled at the man. “Please, do go on…”

As the man resumed his lecture, a small figure appeared in Rinchen’s field of vision, skillfully maneuvering towards her through the shifting crowds of larger and taller folk. A woman in drab military green, with no clear insignia of rank but for a single red star on her cap. In seconds, she was within feet of Rinchen.

“Comrade Fung,” Wang Huifang offered respectfully to the ever-droning warlord. She then turned to Rinchen and smiled. “Comrade Tsultrim.”

The man hesitated for a moment before replying with a perfunctory “Comrade Wang.” For another moment he seemed to contemplate resuming his lecture, but instead he turned away. “Remember! Aerial self-propelled heavy gas rocket batteries! Chemical attacks from above!” he shouted back like a parting shot, before melting back into the crowd.

A brief pause. “You arrived right in time, Comrade Wang. I was running out of excuses for why I did not want to reroute multiple trains of bitunum.”

“Huifang, please,” she replied with a smile. The Gonghui Guangtou wasn’t one for needless formality with those she considered friends, at least not once more uncertain characters had left the conversation. “And glad to be of service. I assume I didn’t miss out on Red Zengrav’s key to victory?”

“The details elude me, but it seems he wanted to construct a rocket capable of reaching Kaifeng. Choden would have a fit if I said yes.”

Huifang chuckled. “Projects for the next generation of Communists, perhaps? I do have to admire the man’s imagination…” her grin faded into a smile, and her tone grew a little more serious, “we’ll need that kind of thinking when we don’t all have to be soldiers and generals.” She sighed, “To be honest, I’m here with that time in mind. To talk about the society we are trying to build, and how to protect it from those who would rule by fear.” She didn’t need to name any names to make it clear who she was talking about. “To be fair, it’s to safeguard us here and now too.”

“You’re about to propose something risky.” Rinchen crossed her arms. “Well? Out with it.”

“A proposal on the Rights of Nationalities to Self-Determination,” Huifang answered, allowing her smile to return. “Something core to the Communist cause, and important to most of the delegates here. Not just us minority-nationals, but any Quin with minority constituents who isn’t an outright national-chauvinist or doctrinaire Holtist. But it hasn’t been put in writing yet, and I think we should change that today.”

At times like this Rinchen had to rely on her knowledge of people, as the minutiae of communist policy escaped her. What Huifang said was true, obvious even. But proposing it now? Here? She was up to something. Based on her personality, it was probably something that would annoy their dear Elder Brother. “And you want my support, I assume?” She pointed out. “I suppose it is a good policy, but not one that’s particularly urgent right now. Surely we should be focusing on pushing north, what with the blacks distracted.”

Huifang’s smile shrunk, and her eyes darted briefly into a corner before returning to Rinchen. “I wish things were that simple. I wish we could just focus on the campaign.” She paused and leaned forward. “Let me be blunt,” she spoke quietly. “You know the Brother’s views on questions of local autonomy, and on Minga national rights. You know he could turn those questions just as easily against you or me as anyone he’s already “purged,” or against any nationality that he decides is “reactionary by nature.” And you know as well as me that he hasn’t reached the limit of how low he’ll stoop to to impose those views.”

Huifang took a deep breath. “This may be the last Party Congress where we can even count on a majority in favor of our national rights. But even if it isn’t, we rebels and rabble-rousers know that if we don’t stick together today, we can’t count on having anyone to stick to tomorrow. I know you don’t feel the pressure now. But if we don’t build *some* kind of coalition now, however loose, in favor of a basic level of Autonomism - Who will you count on when the Quin Chauvinist Brother finally does start to chip away at Dhanga self-determination? Would you rather go guerilla again then, alone, against both the Reds and all our current enemies? Or would you rather have allies? Perhaps cut him off in the halls of Congress, and prevent the issue from coming to gunfire at all? Personally, between civil war, total obedience, or some kind of legal coalition while we can still make one I’m going with the third option.”

“You won’t have a legal coalition against a man like that. You’re drawing lines in the sand, and he’ll certainly take it as a challenge.” She glanced around at the other warlords and delegates. Some she knew personally, many by reputation, and a few not at all. “I don’t necessarily disagree with your goal, but you must not be hasty, Huifang. How much support do you have?”

Huifang gently moved her head from side to side, eyes shifting to scan for potential eavesdroppers. Then, she leaned in ever so slightly further towards Rinchen.

“The Commune can always depend on its share of influence in Congress, like your own party,” she whispered. “We are also in contact with other factions of importance. I’m convinced that we can redeem our cause” - the Society of Redemption, a strong and quickly-growing army under the Minga Hamutka Tzun, short only on exactly what the Commune had to offer: supplies and guarantees of ethnic self-determination - “and that our combined forces will darken the sky.” The Black Battalion of Zong, an anarchist city-state’s army brimming with eager foreign volunteers and directed by the brilliant tactician (and unfortunate opium addict) Do Hang. “I’m also very hopeful that, with dialogue and understanding, we will see tomorrow’s dawn*.” The Syndicalist Party of Tomorrow, a large and heavily-armed anti-Totalist splinter from the Red Turbans lead by Guo Yuhan, considered the Third Great Revolutionary (after the Red Father and Wise Brother). His opposition to current Red leadership and its ideology were no secret and went beyond even Wang’s open critiques of the Purges.

All the factions to which Huifang alluded had representation at the Congress, though among their leaders only Hamutka Tzun was personally present. Certainly, by now, all had been reached by Huifang’s associates.

But she wasn’t finished. “Outside of these halls, in the city and the towns and the villages - there are some friends and a dozen times their number in supporters who would join us when the Wise stops looking Strong.” That was to say, Huifang had contacts in Siban-Ta itself and other settlements in the region, an opposition that might go public given a moment of failure or weakness from Reg-Ahn.

A brief pause of consideration. “Very well. You’ll have my support as well. What is our plan of operation?”

“For now, the written proposal,” Huifang reiterated. “Something that even the Brother can’t condemn publicly without losing face, but also something that will limit his power. And something he will probably violate, as he has already, but after this -if we catch him- it will be a documented violation of a Party statute.” She smiled knowingly. “Like you said, a line in the sand.

“From there, we will have to focus on making friends. I’ve told you about my contacts, and I’m sure you have and can make more of your own. I still hope that, with enough support and the right conditions, we can work this out within the Party. But either way, we can’t go alone.”

“We mustn’t overcommit and tip our hand too soon.” Tsultrim decided. “Our Elder Brother is no fool. He will be expecting some move in congress; I suspect he is prepared for it. He will try to bait you into open defiance and watch for who aligns against him. Keep your aces off the table” - by which she meant, keep some of their important supporters off the proposal and in the background - “and avoid a confrontation.”

Wang Huifang considered her comrade’s words with eyes narrowed in thought. Personally, she was itching for a showdown. But Rinchen had a point. “Fair enough. My reputation’s already set and made, but no need to drag others into it before they’re ready. We’ll found our front in one moment, and reveal it in another.”

“I’ll sign as well. My ‘mercenary’ nature is already well known. No one will be surprised to see me pushing for ethnic autonomy.”

“I would hope no one would be surprised to see anyone push for national self-determination in a Party Congress. But that’s not where the Party’s at.” Huifang sighed. “Anyways, let’s draft this thing before Comrade Fung comes back with another mineral request.”

__

ON THE NATIONAL QUESTION IN THE P.R. ZENGRAV

Twice No to Reactionary Patriotism, Yes to Socialist Solidarity!
- NO, the People’s Republic is not a nation-state! The Nationalists, like their Lukanian masters, enforce one language and one tradition in public life, mandating physical or social eradication of all others. The Republicans do the same more “gently” in their schools and company towns. The People’s Republic recognizes the many-nation history of Zengrav!
- NO, the People’s Republic is not an Empire! The Royalists, like their Commonwealth idols, recognize many nations – one as Master and all others as Subjects. They sort us into ranks and pit us against one another. The People’s Republic recognizes the equality of nationalities!
- YES, the People’s Republic is a free union of peoples and settlements! We recognize and oppose national oppression. We recognize the right of nationalities to self-determination. We recognize that every nation has a proletarian element to win power and a bourgeois-feudal element to overthrow.

Nationalities in the P.R. Zengrav Affirm their Rights! - We may
- Organize, on the basis of nationality, specifically against national oppression during revolution and to defend these gains post-revolution.
- Organize among comrades of other nationalities on an equal basis in all Party organs not aimed at the two purposes above.
- Conduct life – public and private, community and individual – in our native languages.
- Freely practice customs and traditions that can be reconciled with Socialism.
- Maintain – in a socialist manner – traditional means of production and survival. These include nomadic and diasporic traditions – pastoral herds, boat communities, caravans, and ancestral homes among other nationalities.
- Enjoy the absolute guarantee of the People’s Republic against pogroms, forced deportation, and forced relocation on the basis of nationality.
- Form, to enforce the above rights, self-governing districts, settlements and territories as federal member units of the P.R. Zengrav. Such units need not be territorially contiguous and may be formed by association of a single nationality, or by a coalition of nationalities.

To these ends, the People’s Republic of Zengrav provisionally establishes a Congress of Nationalities, subordinate to the Party Congress, of two representatives elected by each indigenous nationality of Zengrav.
- Recognized nations include, but are not strictly limited to : Quin, Minga, Uzra, Gailziri, Zeh, Bashur, Bingal, Jorguk, Kāzé, Tu’wa, Yaar, and Dhanga.
- Each nationality shall elect its councilors by popular vote conducted in the liberated territories of the PR Zengrav. Election of representatives shall be administered by their respective national communities and organizations.
- Individually, the councilors shall be charged with representing the interests of their respective nationality and coordinating federal organs of national-cultural life.
- Collectively, the Congress of Nationalities will lead the socialist struggle for Internationalism within the People’s Republic, opposing national chauvinism, xenophobia, lingering forms of national oppression, and infiltration of colonizer-imperialist notions of race supremacy.

__________

(Collaboration between AspenIvan and Talis, follow up to Part 1: https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4678510)

Earthgone [A Space NRP with Tentacles!]

Color me interested. The Space IWW is ready to organize. :3

Fumes of War: A Dieselpunk RP

Possibly interested.