gowia

Styria: Years of Blood (Adult 18+)

Jacra of the People

The City-State of Jacra

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Ruler: The city-state of Jacra is a peasant's republic, in which the different clans elect an individual from amongst them to raise to the highest office. That individual then has close to dictatorial power for a term of ten years and appoints each member of government, after which another election is held. The people elect in the Assembly of the Clans and, in cases of gross misconduct, can cast a two-thirds vote to end the term of the current High-Syndic early. This will suspend the powers of the High-Syndic, cause an immediate election, and mean the total overhaul of every position in government. Currently this has only happened twice since the affirmation of the supremacy of the citizen.

Current Members of Government:

High-Syndic Aristides

Aristides of Aicer

Responsibilities: The High-Syndic is the elected leader of the people of Jacra, following a gruelling election season they spell out the next decade for the state through their selection of members of government. Furthermore they can step in and adjudicate on any legal case they so wish. Cases of the highest offence are overseen by the High-Syndic always.

Chief-Apodektai Iason

Iason of Aicer

Responsibilities: The Chief-Apodektai is responsible for the collection of the yearly rolls of land and income, which they then use to calculate tax owed. From there they organise collection and distribution to the appropriate parts of government.

Chief-Theorodokoi Herodes

Herodes of Aicer

Responsibilities: The Chief-Theorodokoi is responsible for sending and receiving ambassadors, at their own expense, and providing the High-Syndic with reports of the on goings abroad and the interests of abroad inside the state.

Chief-Hierophant Dion

Dion of Antachus

Responsibilities: The Chief-Hierophant is the highest ecclesiastic official in the city-state. They organise public holidays and events, as well as offer spiritual guidance for the state and act as the divine consultant to the High-Syndic.

Chief-Polemarch Epiphanios

Epiphanios of Aicer

Responsibilities: The Chief-Polemarch is responsible for keeping the rolls of levy expectation up to date, organising the military affairs of the state, and leading the armed forces in times of combat. As well as this they manage the security of the interior of the city-state.

Chief-Navarch Euclid

Euclid of Antachus

Responsibilities: The Chief-Navarch is technically responsible for all naval affairs in Jacra. However, bar a trickle of trade, there is virtually no navy. The only other part of the role that has some importance is the encompassing right to any and all naval salvage and flotsam.

Honorifics: As modern as the Jacran state is, in many ways it is still a traditional and medieval society. Titles with little official power are still highly valued and, whilst not a part of government, still carry a great deal of influence.

Current Honorific Holders:

High-Archiater Dareios

Dareios of Hereklus

The Wild Sibyl, Kassandra

Kassandra of Hereklus

Notable Clans:

Aicer

The Clan of Aicer

---

Current Patriarch: Aristides

Members:

• Aristides
• Iason
• Epiphanios
• Herodes

Offices Held:

• High-Syndic - Aristides
• Chief-Apodektai - Iason
• Chief-Polemarch - Epiphanios
• Chief-Theorodokoi - Herodes

Brief History: The Aicer clan originated as a transient band of warriors who sold their services to other larger clans. Following the consolidation of Jacra the Aicer became embroiled with the political interests of Talins. Through financial and information aid they had a meteoric rise and now act as the political tools of the Talins in Jacra.

Rivalries and Bonds: Familial bond with Antachus and blood feud with Hereklus

Antachus

The Clan of Antachus

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Current Patriarch: Dion

Members:

• Dion
• Euclid

Offices Held:

• Chief-Hierophant - Dion
• Chief-Navarch - Euclid

Brief History:

Rivalries and Bonds:

Hereklus

The Clan of Hereklus

---

Current Patriarch: Dareios

Members:

• Dareios
• Kassandra

Offices Held:

• High-Archiater - Dareios
• Wild Sibyl - Kassandra

Brief History:

Rivalries and Bonds:

Capital Description: Jacra is a modest city, it's position by the coast and in the nook of the river Guero might suggest of useful naval trade links but with little investment into the development of land that often is host to bandits and warring clans and their retinue, the revenues of Jacra are diminished at the best of times and there is few reasons for extensive trade in Jacra. The populace is fairly well spread and , despite economic deficiency, the city does not suffer from much of the squalor that comes from wealth. And extensive public works are still the main currency of city-wide patronage.

History: The city-state of Jacra has a tumultuous and blood-soaked history. Originally the land was inhabited by clans of peoples who followed the leadership of the horse rearing elite. A man's worth was made in the horses he commanded and each clan would vie for resources and land. This practice evolved slowly over time as time and again High-Kings of the Jacrans were declared at intermittent points. This changed, however, when following the deposition of the last High-King there became a rejection of the idea of monarchy entirely. The pursuit of it had caused death and violence since as long as the records ran and so, during the Rejection of Monarchical Principle, a new system of government was enshrined.

The City-State of Jacra was henceforth a peasants republic, as only peasants served the common folk correctly. This system was, of course, flawed, and the previous families of landowning elite came to form the wealthy patron class that grew to dominate the new political sphere. In the previous decade Jacra has been thoroughly sidelined in business across the island of Styria, through the careful influence of Talins, and reduced to little more than a tributary. The next election will soon be upon the wilful people of Jacra, however, and time will tell if they reject their current lot of sub-ordinance.

Re-post to show I have finished (So far, I plan to add more when I get the time and more happens etc.) In regards to joint history any and all are welcome to drop me a line on how they stuck their nose into Jacra and fucked with it

Styria: Years of Blood (Adult 18+)

Jacra of the People

The City-State of Jacra

---

---

Ruler: The city-state of Jacra is a peasant's republic, in which the different clans elect an individual from amongst them to raise to the highest office. That individual then has close to dictatorial power for a term of ten years and appoints each member of government, after which another election is held. The people elect in the Assembly of the Clans and, in cases of gross misconduct, can cast a two-thirds vote to end the term of the current High-Syndic early. This will suspend the powers of the High-Syndic, cause an immediate election, and mean the total overhaul of every position in government. Currently this has only happened twice since the affirmation of the supremacy of the citizen.

Current Members of Government:

High-Syndic Aristides

Aristides of Aicer

Responsibilities: The High-Syndic is the elected leader of the people of Jacra, following a gruelling election season they spell out the next decade for the state through their selection of members of government. Furthermore they can step in and adjudicate on any legal case they so wish. Cases of the highest offence are overseen by the High-Syndic always.

Chief-Apodektai Iason

Iason of Aicer

Responsibilities: The Chief-Apodektai is responsible for the collection of the yearly rolls of land and income, which they then use to calculate tax owed. From there they organise collection and distribution to the appropriate parts of government.

Chief-Theorodokoi Herodes

Herodes of Aicer

Responsibilities: The Chief-Theorodokoi is responsible for sending and receiving ambassadors, at their own expense, and providing the High-Syndic with reports of the on goings abroad and the interests of abroad inside the state.

Chief-Hierophant Dion

Dion of Antachus

Responsibilities: The Chief-Hierophant is the highest ecclesiastic official in the city-state. They organise public holidays and events, as well as offer spiritual guidance for the state and act as the divine consultant to the High-Syndic.

Chief-Polemarch Epiphanios

Epiphanios of Aicer

Responsibilities: The Chief-Polemarch is responsible for keeping the rolls of levy expectation up to date, organising the military affairs of the state, and leading the armed forces in times of combat. As well as this they manage the security of the interior of the city-state.

Chief-Navarch Euclid

Euclid of Antachus

Responsibilities: The Chief-Navarch is technically responsible for all naval affairs in Jacra. However, bar a trickle of trade, there is virtually no navy. The only other part of the role that has some importance is the encompassing right to any and all naval salvage and flotsam.

Honorifics: As modern as the Jacran state is, in many ways it is still a traditional and medieval society. Titles with little official power are still highly valued and, whilst not a part of government, still carry a great deal of influence.

Current Honorific Holders:

High-Archiater Dareios

Dareios of Hereklus

The Wild Sibyl, Kassandra

Kassandra of Hereklus

Notable Clans:

Aicer

The Clan of Aicer

---

Current Patriarch: Aristides

Members:

• Aristides
• Iason
• Epiphanios
• Herodes

Offices Held:

• High-Syndic - Aristides
• Chief-Apodektai - Iason
• Chief-Polemarch - Epiphanios
• Chief-Theorodokoi - Herodes

Brief History: The Aicer clan originated as a transient band of warriors who sold their services to other larger clans. Following the consolidation of Jacra the Aicer became embroiled with the political interests of Talins. Through financial and information aid they had a meteoric rise and now act as the political tools of the Talins in Jacra.

Rivalries and Bonds: Familial bond with Antachus and blood feud with Hereklus

Antachus

The Clan of Antachus

---

Current Patriarch: Dion

Members:

• Dion
• Euclid

Offices Held:

• Chief-Hierophant - Dion
• Chief-Navarch - Euclid

Brief History:

Rivalries and Bonds:

Hereklus

The Clan of Hereklus

---

Current Patriarch: Dareios

Members:

• Dareios
• Kassandra

Offices Held:

• High-Archiater - Dareios
• Wild Sibyl - Kassandra

Brief History:

Rivalries and Bonds:

Capital Description: Jacra is a modest city, it's position by the coast and in the nook of the river Guero might suggest of useful naval trade links but with little investment into the development of land that often is host to bandits and warring clans and their retinue, the revenues of Jacra are diminished at the best of times and there is few reasons for extensive trade in Jacra. The populace is fairly well spread and , despite economic deficiency, the city does not suffer from much of the squalor that comes from wealth. And extensive public works are still the main currency of city-wide patronage.

History: The city-state of Jacra has a tumultuous and blood-soaked history. Originally the land was inhabited by clans of peoples who followed the leadership of the horse rearing elite. A man's worth was made in the horses he commanded and each clan would vie for resources and land. This practice evolved slowly over time as time and again High-Kings of the Jacrans were declared at intermittent points. This changed, however, when following the deposition of the last High-King there became a rejection of the idea of monarchy entirely. The pursuit of it had caused death and violence since as long as the records ran and so, during the Rejection of Monarchical Principle, a new system of government was enshrined.

The City-State of Jacra was henceforth a peasants republic, as only peasants served the common folk correctly. This system was, of course, flawed, and the previous families of landowning elite came to form the wealthy patron class that grew to dominate the new political sphere. In the previous decade Jacra has been thoroughly sidelined in business across the island of Styria, through the careful influence of Talins, and reduced to little more than a tributary. The next election will soon be upon the wilful people of Jacra, however, and time will tell if they reject their current lot of sub-ordinance.

Major WIP

Styria: Years of Blood (Adult 18+)

Dibs on Jacra please ^^

Styria: Years of Blood

Dropping my interest here! Would prefer to see how it is intended to be run etc before I promise my life away ofc.

EDIT: I already have a concept of gruff raiding northerners in Jacra

RPGC #23: InGlorious - Voting and Critique

I'd like to vote for @Kalleth

RPGC #23: InGlorious - Discussion

Unfortunately I have been recently snowed in with the final push to complete university work and cram for my exams. I've had little time for myself, or my writing, and so have just been too exhausted to complete any feedback for the fantastic stories that have been entered. I have a favourite I would like to vote for, I'd love it if someone could let me know if I am allowed to simply vote, and not provide such reviews.

But for those of you who have been so wonderful as to take the time and critique my writing (Along with everyone else's) I would like to say a massive thank you! This is my very first entry and, honestly, even after posting it I reread and rewrote and thought I could have done better. Your feedback is greatly appreciated, I am a critically amateur writer so this is all incredibly helpful to me, and I hope if I partake in any more of these I do so with more time to be able to fully contribute as you all have.

Tagging you as you are the four who the second paragraph is especially aimed at. ^^ @SleepingSilence @BrokenPromise @NorthernKraken @Calle

RPGC #23: InGlorious - Prompt and Entries

The Inevitability of the Throne

“He has to die.” Her voice was quiet, but unafraid, even though each moment brought a fresh tremor of anxious anticipation for the events that were about to unfold.

Whispered conspiracy had dogged the dark halls of the palace for months, following the princess like a pestilence and trying her immensely. Turning from the broad cityscape that her grand balcony afforded, Lyra sucked in a sharp breath. Even here, in the sanctity of her room, she felt the long shadows of furniture reach out and welcome her like an old friend. She mentally recoiled.

She was doing her duty. A duty to her city, her nation, and all the people that inhabited it. They would thank her, if they ever discovered the truth, and those that would know would think far greater of her. But, she might never forgive herself. Thin fingers plied one another like clay as she held them in front of herself, chewing her bottom lip in a way her mother had always despised.

A sharp rap on the door shattered the tapestry of introspection she had been weaving.

“Come.” Her voice was brisk, cold, entirely the cool character she intended to rule as. Despite such an icy reception, the royal valet - still in the luxurious purple uniform of the house - entered with a gentle smile and spoke with a congenial timbre.

“Guard-Captain Holte is here to see you, your highness. I would send him in, if it pleases you?” The young boy’s head was lowered in supplication as he posed the question and, aware of protocol, Lyra pretended to give the query a moment of consideration. Aware to give the impression that this late call was unexpected. The gown covering her silk nighty, and somewhat dishevelled hair, was the final piece of the puzzle intended to befuddle any attempt to put together the events of the night.

“Hold a moment.” She commanded, taking the time to deliberately pad over to her dresser and adjust the loose strands of auburn hair into a more respectable style. A true actor. “There.” She finally exclaimed, placing a single pin through the locks to hold them all in place. “You may send him in now.”

The valet silently slid from the room and could be heard whispering to an unseen figure beyond the stained oak door. Forthwith it opened and closed a final time, allowing entry of a scarred veteran in the livery of the royal guard.

“Your highness.” He greeted her in a tone almost as dark as her own had been to the valet, clearly he was struggling as she was. “I have come as your father has requested your presence.” The facade of their discourse was grating on them both and the princess raised a hand to silence any further part of the message she was supposed to receive.

“Your highness, I wish to inform you of your father’s wishes…” He returned to the rehearsed speech and Lyra relinquished this to him, adopting a stony portrait though listening to none of the words. Boris had served her father for decades, though he was not betraying a biological father, in his heart he likely felt he might as well be.

“Your highness, will you see him?” The question was posed with a greater severity than expected, and Lyra realised quickly she had missed the first time it had been asked. Straightening the pleats in her dress, though it had been in no way out of place, she nodded her assent.

“I will, inform the king I will see him now.” And, with that, the soldier departed to make ready the final preparations. Leaving the door open as he stepped through, Lyra realised the old man had meant for her to act now. The time for thinking should be done. Approaching the threshold she stared down at the invisible line in the floor, the point of no return, and faltered. If she went now she would not return to this room. She could not. Yet, if she stayed, countless would suffer.

Which is how she found herself marching down the long hallway that lead towards the royal quarters. Her valet followed two steps behind, lighting the way with a candelabra held aloft to guide them. Nobody ever lit the halls of the palace anymore. There were too many faces, cut deep into the stonework that put shame to the living, perfect as they were in nostalgic reverence. Approaching the gilded white doors of the king’s room, Lyra almost stumbled, though no fold of the crimson carpet had been there to trip her. Before she could cry out, or fall, an arm shot out and steadied her. It was the valet.

“Careful, your highness.” He said, reassuring in his grasp and voice. Lyra should have admonished the valet for an offence like touching the royal body without permission. Glancing back into his eyes, however, she read a desperate hope in them she had not expected. His boyish features put him only at fourteen years old, but there was a wise acceptance in how he spoke to her. “You have your duty to do.”

“What?” She hissed, fear mixing with vocal outrage, as the glacial face splintered into a plethora of emotions. But, a gentle squeeze of her hand seemed to pulsate kindness into her veins, which had been lacking such for a long time.

“I am sure the king needs to see you.” He explained, simply, unafraid, desperately wishing. And she knew he knew. Though he had never been in those alcoves and niches with the other conspirators, he knew. And she didn’t even know his name. Lyra nimbly drew her hand away, preparing.

“Return to your quarters, now.” She instructed, and he obeyed without hesitation. Standing before those doors alone, Lyra did not feel the same force pulling her to stop as she had at her own door. She had left her trepidation behind her, and she fearlessly pushed her way into the vast room of the king’s quarters.

The royal guard were absent, as Boris had seen to, and she maintained the vigour she had entered with as she stalked into the middle of the room. A grand throne, resplendent with great cushions and enameled precious gems, sat atop the regal plinth from where the king was expected to greet petitioners and subjects. Grand suits of armour wore by the general-kings before stood silent witness to the power of the kingdom the king ruled.

Though not to the king himself. Instead of the throne, a large bed sat - it’s pale and pallid colouration a stark contrast to the rest of the room - with a ghostly and frail figure sprawled under its sheets.

“Father, I have come.” Lyra said, her voice a whisper but still audible. The old man did not stir. “Father?” She asked, with hope this time. Perhaps time had done already what she intended. A stirring and rustle of cloth came crashing down on that wish.

“Lyra? My child…” He gasped from parched lips, extending an arthritic claw of a hand to try and grasp for his offspring. Lyra took the offering and pressed the wafer thin skin of his fingers against the youthfulness of her cheek. The king let out a contented grumble. “I was dreaming again.” He explained, and Lyra nodded softly.

“What of, father?”

“The sky.” He marvelled, the signs of energy and resoluteness that kept him alive breaching into his expression momentarily, before fading. Lyra already knew what this meant and, with a disgusted manner, she peered up to the round ceiling. Three great scenes, painted with the finest attention to detail so that none of their horror could be missed, dominated her view. “I… I saved them.” The king wheezed, each breath like the opening of a tomb for the first time.

He had saved no-one, by the end, Lyra knew. The elves, tall and lithe creatures with sharp features, had been enigmatic but peaceful folk. Living out their days in villages built into the branches and boughs of the Dark Forest. Yet, when progress had demanded fresh wood her father had ordered the trees felled, when the elves retaliated he had simply seen them burn. Heralded as rebel dissidents, the burning of their home tree dominated the first segment of the ceiling above. Screaming faces from those trapped inside haunted Lyra, and lived as a source of revelry for the soldiers depicted.

“The p-people need me, Lyra. As soon they w-will need you.” His hand clasped her wrist, the wrinkled and frail man clutching onto her as his last hope.

“The people need me now, father.” She stated, a monotone fact which stopped her father as he tried to slowly comprehend her meaning. But, Lyra was distracted from his confusion, she had already looked over to the next scene. She vaguely remembered this one, the killing of the guard. Snakes zigged and zagged over bright red floors as great indomitable men in steel armour stamped down atop them. The imagery was bright and demanded respect, though Boris had told her what had really happened. His friends, and his comrades, hunted inside the palace during another bout of imperial paranoia. Apparently the bodies had been strung up beside the throne for a week before her father had let them down.

“Wh-what do they need you for, child?” Her father finally asked, relenting in trying to decipher her meaning.

“Hm?” She refused to turn, dragging her gaze on to the final and most deplorable chapter of her father’s history. The city, her home, and the homes of the people, sprawled out into a setting sun. A picturesque representation of the hope their kingdom was meant to represent. Along a road winding through the city crosses stood high and, nailed into each one with a terrible expression of agony, a person hung. Each one desperately torn and twisted as soldiers tortured them with weapons and tools, the kind Lyra could not bear to imagine mangling flesh.

She knew of this day all too well, the Day of Snakes. Protest had erupted, spontaneously it is said, against the rule of her father. Rumour had it even sections of the army were ready to mutiny, she had heard Boris giving that report, and join the protestors who marched up and down the streets. They had wanted him deposed, and he had taken an afront. He saw himself as their guardian and their guide, the only one capable of saving them from perceived threats, and so he had taken against the people such malice and force that they might never see him as anything but their king again.

“Lyra?” The voice was more strained now, without thinking her hands had slipped from his to the pillow beside him. “What are you doing?” Delicate and gentle hands, loving hands, slipped the heavy cushion up and over his face. No longer capable of words, his weak hands clawed feebly at her cheeks, like a puppy trying to push away a storm. As she pressed down his body convulsed and tears stained the top of the weapon, dripping from her cheeks. Eventually the struggling slowed, slowed, and then ceased. The quiet of the act faded into the silence of murder.

Lyra stayed there for some time, she could not tell how long, weeping still as she kept the pillow pressed down firmly over the face of her father. She couldn’t bear to lift it and see him. A hand on her shoulder was the thing that summoned her back to the present.

“Your majesty?” The question was draped in sorrow. Boris had appeared, now awaiting her first command. She was suddenly aware of herself again, and her heart froze on the words of the valet. The boy. He knew of her patricide, he might undo all they had accomplished here.

“My valet.” She said. “I need you to imprison my valet.”

I would appreciate any, and all, feedback on the piece when the time comes. And, might I add, I hate word count limits. I had to cut like 6-7 paragraphs out to get it to fit under.

Word Count: 1982

Fallout: Europa

Tentative interest ^^ If I may suggest, however, geographically that is a vast area and fue to tech and story telling etc. Fallout has done better on a much more local level. Only because nations on a scale that is international in fallout are going to be pretty complex and vast.

STATEHOOD: The Founding Brothers [The Island Nation of Balruba, 1947]

I would honestly say this is dead. Sorry to say.

STATEHOOD: The Founding Brothers [The Island Nation of Balruba, 1947]

I'm certainly still about ^^