GreivousKhan

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

I should indeed point out character deaths in this is totally are a thing. Inspiration from GOT and all that.

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

Paper Angel, I is going to blockades you, no food for you!

Though serious question though to the GM and CO-GM if we have one, what means of redress would I have as a noble if a member of my family, or members, were taken by the Inquisition. Would I contact anyone in the Capital, or am I high and dry, without a paddle to row on the sandy river bottom.

Second, if I have means of legal redress through the capital, would I be allowed to conduct an embargo/blockade upon The Vialiphate of Meletis upon the grounds of "unpaid dues/payments" for services rendered, and illegal conduct etc etc?

And, to the GM, how much food would my region provide for the realm as a whole? Percentage wise?

@Abefroeman

I'm glad you asked. As far as legal appeals can go, the Church is separate from the state, and even there they distance themselves from the Inquisition for obvious reasons. Still you can make an appeal to the Church of the Sacred Flame directly. Normally they give people the runaround but given the state of affairs and the ranks of those taken. There is a good chance the case could be taken to the Elder Council for them to judge whether or not the accused are heretics/guilty.

As for the Imperial government itself, short of an actual declaration of war or outright killing a house member with no cause, they have no real authority to interfere with Inquisition affairs. They are doing their job after all.

Now as for an embargo on the island itself, I would point out the huge repercussions that would initial. Attempting to get a trial conducted by the Elder Council would be the safest recourse but also admittedly the most time consuming to achieve. The better your standing with the church easier that course of action would be.

Edit: Food wise? That's hard to say really as I have no real base to measure your food production. I don't imagine though that it makes up a huge level of the food produced, between the Heartlands and the Expense.

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

Vandaster City, The Septentrion

Ceveut, the 5th of Gerna 1200 AU - 05.03.1200

The chapel of Kammeth was a modest structure within the city of Vandaster. A building of tilrinic Heartlander design that bespoke of its Imperial craftsmanship. It was a single story temple possessing one large chamber and a smaller closed off section to the rear that held a few rooms. Pews fashioned from wood - likely of southern origin- stood in six rows in total. The altar rose up three large steps, centered there was a the heart of every temple of Kammeth. A bronze bowl-shaped brazier, one fashioned with intricate cut out symbols that circled its circumference. The flame within the brazier glowed brightly; the fire meant to accept what offerings the faithful provided.

Transgressions were often written on a piece of paper and thrown into the fire to be consumed. So that the sin would always be between man and god. Though it was not uncommon for those illiterate to merely casting an offering of food or wood. Jakinius Valarien had not come to ask for forgiveness this day, however, but guidance.

On his knees before the sanctified flames of Kammeth, hands clasped together before him he was as unmoving as the statue of his god standing behind the lit brazier. News of his father's passing had filled him with both grief and doubt. He had felt lost adrift at sea and so he had sought the unmoving grace of Kammeth to which to anchor himself. All his life. As long as he could remember he had sought the acceptance of his father that his youngest brother had seemingly so easily earned.

He had never known why exactly he had been so distant with his old man. Sure they had shared different ideas and goals yet something more had driven them apart. Perhaps it was because he had spent the least time with Taramyth, growing up largely under the care and training of House Tallurian. They had almost become a second family to him. When he had returned to the Capital - a full grown man- he felt like a stranger returned to a place unfamiliar. Filled with strangers who shared only blood. At least, he had gotten on well with his uncles. One of the primary reasons for his going to the north at all was because of Carles urging. His father more interested in trade and finding new lands.

The doors of the chapel creaked open with an audible groan that awoke Jak from his reverie. Lokhagos Metinnus Jaroaria -adorned in his segmented imperial armor - entered the modest temple of Kammeth. The double wooden doors began creaking shut behind him as he walked down the aisle to the still kneeling prince of Lalrial. Metinnus looked about the fairly empty temple and whistled.

“And they say the south of the Septentrion is more devoted…” Metinnus said under his breath more to himself than anything.

Jakinius rose to his feet with a sigh, “I take it preparations for the ship are complete?”

The High Captain of the Riffleford company nodded though the prince with his back still turned could not see the gesture. “Aye, my apologies mi’lord, I did’a not mean to disturb you. But yes everything is underway, we’re ready when you are.”

Jakinius looked up at the statue of Kammeth. The unblinking figure of stone imposing in its stern stare, yet the craftsmen had done remarkably well in capturing the compassionate air of their god. “You know you needn't be so formal with me Metinnus.” A touch of amusement in his words.

“Ah well, a force of habit I picked up from being around nobles all me life I suppose.” The older man smiled. “Still might’in be a good habit to keep should you take the throne.”

At the mention of the throne and the election to follow in the coming days Jakinius frowned. Shifting he turned to meet Metinnus in the eyes and for the first time the company captain saw the uncertainty in his once and now former soldiers eyes. “Is this really the right move to make Metinnus? I feel I would better serve here as I always have, not on a warm safe throne countless leagues away.”

Metinnus understood his comrades anxiety all too well. The two had known each other for many years after all. They had first met before Jakinius’s identity had ever been revealed. So of course, Metinnus had treated him no differently than any of the other men under his command. In fact, after he realized the boy's potential he had pushed him harder in the months of drills and training as they prepared for the north.

“Aye, but that is not just any ass warmer Jakinius,” his former captain pointed out, “it's the seat that keeps this whole damn realm from falling apart and being scattered in the wind. I can’t imagine any man more worthy or capable of sitting on the gilded throne then ye’self.”

As usual, his former captain’s advice was crude and blunt- but exactly the truth of it as he understood it, nothing more or less. Jakinius merely inclined his head in understanding, his eyes falling to the fires that still burned in the brazier. He felt the hand of Metinnus fall on his right shoulder.

“Still unsure?” the captain more stated than asked.

“I am.”

“Good.”

Jakinius turned a puzzled gaze to the grizzled veteran. “How is that good?”

Metinnus only smiled. “Cause it means you don’t want the throne or its power. And those who don’t seek only power are less inclined to abuse it. Now come, the ship awaits and the sooner we’re off the better.”

---

Lalrial, The Heartlands

Lalaifia, the 6th of Gerna 1200 AU - 06.03.1200

As James walked back somewhat disheartened as his plans have been failing which come to think of it wasn’t very unusual. He then went down to his desk to look over the daily planner and began to read it over making sure he hadn’t missed anything out of the ordinary. Looking back throughout the day however he had failed with Benjamin and Lady Marra, but was able to strike a deal with Prince Aldrick which was something. He then set the papers down for a moment and just sat there and thought. About the future and tomorrow.

"James Conrad of Erayis," came the melodious voice. Sounding disembodied and sinister yet amused. From the far corner of the room, the shadows seemed to come alive as the space distorted and out stepped a cloaked and bent figure. He parted the shadows as if they were but a veil to step through. Yet by some trick of the light, it appeared as if he had always been standing there.

The man wore a hood that concealed much of his face; all but for his mouth and chin. The details of which revealed the figure had to be well advanced in years as evidence from the scars and wrinkles. Pale pink lips cracked into a smile before the figure continued talking. A smile revealing dark yellow stained teeth. "I see you have been a very busy little bee. Dear James."

James fell back into the nervous. As the shadow startled him “ You really shouldn’t do that you know, could give someone a heart attack. Also, yes I have been busy trying to get things to work out, usually to no avail but I must look productive. So what brings you here?” James said looking at the shadow.

The man seemingly ignored James's seeming discomfort on his choice of entry. He glided to one part of the room and inspected a single chair there, running a nearly withered finger over the polished wood. "I understand you have placed your efforts in Allianna," the figure more stated than asked. "The spoiled child of Taramyth, ever the silver spoon in her mouth since birth. "

He inclined his head as if listening to something... or someone. The smile returned. "Still, yes why I have come. You have ever asked the obvious Conrad. Report then. You have zipped your way across this spider web of politics, where stand these."

A waved a hand in the air almost dismissively, "Nobles of the empire? Even if you have not swayed them they have at least made in some way clear where they or their arch electors will swing."

“Indeed, I have spoken to at least and half and even if I wasn’t able to convince them. The main contenders as expected are Ralltene and Jakinius. Hard to see who will win, though. Jakinius has the respect and honor of his “famed” tales. While Ralltene has the money and connections to buy anyone he needs including my own arch elector it seem Benjamin Cragmore.” James said as he rose from the seat. “Do you want me to change my current plans or continue as I am learning the field?” James asked the man.

"Yes yes as expected, but The Elysian is more concerned with the apparent clear supporters." The figure turned to James then, only now was his left hand visible, a single coin easily juggled through the knuckles of his fingers. "Who supports who Conrad. Aside from the obvious of course, House Duvard will pledge their support to Jakinius and House Gracieux to Ralltene. Your place is to alert us to where the other families will fall…as for your future efforts...”

“The Elysian would have you begin making aims to support both Ralltene and Allianna. For every new Elector you speak to, advise them to support another contender. We must have the vote split as much as possible for as long as possible. My people will do the rest."

“I will do my best to keep the vote split, but you must remember unlike other Prime Magistrate I don’t come from family, loyalty or even land and so I am less trustworthy than those who might listen. I will try my best to support both and keep the election going for as long as can be. If I may ask as to why though?” James asked looking at the new barely visible man.

"Do not trouble yourself with the why, and know you efforts are hardly our only weapon in this endeavour." His smile was specially wolfish as if he found the very idea of entrusting such a task to James alone a joke in and of itself. "Concern yourself instead with The Argentum - who I might mention- have been steered away from our activities through careful manipulation. I'm sure you have heard of the arrest of the Swiftwaves? It should go without saying you should avoid speaking to any of house Tlaerie or their agents be they electors or magisters. "

The man paced to the other side of the desk, the coin in his hand moving all the while. "Their momentary distraction, however, is a weapon in and of itself. Be sure to bring the topic of the Swfitwave arrest up as often as possible. The flames of anger among the nobles will further aid our cause."

The hooded man looked to the window and inclined his head once more. "Now I must leave you. You have your orders. I trust you will continue to prove yourself... a valuable asset."

With that he turned back to the darkened section of the room, seemingly walking into nothing and vanishing from sight.

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

Added the wiki to the OP, courtesy of Gowi.

If people want to add to the lore let me know on chat.

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

Ulfar the Ulfwerenar - The Graelings

Act Two: Duty, Honor, Vengence
The Saga of James Conrad


Ixyan, the 8th of Gerna 1200 AU - 08.03.1200

The roar of laughter drifted through the crisp, cold air. Ulfar trudged through the snow drift towards the tavern. Passing a frozen puddle, he looked at his reflection. His dark eyes stared back at him, framed by his mane-like hair. He noticed the red stain around his mouth, and he washed his face with some melted snow. Looking up at the darkening sky, he tried to remember the battle. He recalled accompanying Haraldur and his warband of Huscarls to the village of Kodradfief. His recollections also went as far as the Graelings lining up against the Vargs. The jeers and shouts had echoed along the valley, both armies chanting madly, running along to the savage beat of pounding war drums. Then his memory failed.

His last vision had been a huge Ymirish giant wielding a brutal two-handed axe. He stopped his reverie and decided to find out what had happened next. The mead hall was full, the clan celebrating the day's victory and the expectation of tomorrow's start of preparations for their raiding into the rich Southlands was evident. In the corner two Berserkers were engaged in a head-butting contest. They squared off a few paces apart, heads bowed down. Then, as a comrade shouted to start, they charged headlong at each other, their skulls clashing with an audible thud. The man who remains conscious the longest is deemed the winner, and contests could last for hours.

Shouting for a jar of mead, Ulfar strode across the dimly lit hall to Haraldur and his fellow Huscarls. They were engaged in a loud game of knuckle-throwing, and a large pile of treasure was laid in the middle of the table as a bet. As Jarlik tossed the rune-inscribed knuckle bones against the far wall, Haraldur noticed Ulfar's approach.

"By Olric's beard Ulfar, you look worse than I will tomorrow morning! Anyone would think you'd had to fight those snivelling Vargest by yourself."

Ulfar sat down on the long bench beside the table and grinned wolfishly.

"I probably did! Seriously though lad, how did I fare against the scum?"

Haraldur settled back, obviously preparing to recount an epic speech. He was well known for his skills with words as well as the mighty axe he wielded in battle.

"The Wolfclaws set out with the dark of night, their hearts full of rage at the thought of the hated vargs on their lands. With Fenris Fang and Mordins Shield they marched to war..."

"I know what we damn well did lad, just tell me how many of the Vargs I killed!"

"Some people just don't appreciate tradition. You have to do things the proper way, otherwise, you lose the whole feel of the baule."

"Look lad, I was killing people when your father was learning which end of a sword was the sharp bit, so shut up about tradition. If you don't tell me how many of the scum I killed I'm going to bite your damned head off!"

"Don't think you can scare me! My Huscarls killed forty Vargs, and then we cut down a handful of Trolls. But that wasn't all, we also scared off their chieftain, just by looking at him! You started on the Ice Giant, damned near pulled his arm off and choked him with the wet end! Then you bit the faces off a few Trolls, but they didn't seem to notice too much. After that it was all getting a bit hectic. I saw you chasing after some Vargs on large pigs, and then you were lost in the crowd."

"See lad, that wasn't too difficult for you was it!"

Ulfar wandered off to find somebody else to tell him how he had fared against the boar riders. He spied Frund the Dwarf - named so due to his short height more than anything- by the fireplace, arguing with another. He walked over to them and slapped Frund heartily on the back, almost knocking him over. The little man turned round, frowning murderously. His expression eased when he saw Ulfar standing behind him.

"Ah. Ulfar, just the person to see. My cousin Snorri is from Araz’ark in the Northern Ridge mountains by the Empire. He says its biologically inviable for a human to turn into a wolf, and I think you could prove him wrong."

"Say that again shorty, it sounded like gibberish to me, and if it was an insult you better start running!"

"My cousin Snorri here reckons that you can't turn into a wolf." Frund's eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint. "He's also wagered a silver inlaid scabbard and a gold drinking horn on the matter. We might be able to split the loot up somehow..."

Ulfar turned on the stranger and bent down to growl in his ear.

"Can't go wolf, eh? I hope you believe the evidence of your own eyes."

Ulfar began breathing deeply, and closed his eyes. He felt the taint roaring through his veins. His heart hammered in his chest and his skin tingled and itched. He felt the hairs pushing through the pores of his flesh, and he tasted the blood in his mouth from his fangs ripping through his aching gums. Letting out a howl of triumph and rage, he opened his eyes. The red haze was there, tinging the edges of his vision. He could smell the sheer terror of the now small form standing in front of him. His ears picked up the faintest sounds; the heavy breathing of the tavern's occupants, the whistle of the wind outside the thick wooden walls. A surge of energy rushed through his body, and he felt like pouncing on the hapless man.

He felt his own blood trickling down the long claws that now tipped his elongated fingers. His muscles were swollen and adrenaline flowed throughout his system. The body was in prime condition, despite his human age, and he knew what it was like to be immortal. The call of the night hammered away at the back of his mind, constantly trying to seduce him. He wished to break down the doors and race off on the hunt. Applying his willpower Ulfar managed to control the animal emotions raging through his mind. He adapted his form again, allowing himself to talk more easily, though he knew from experience that to others his voice would sound slurred and basic.

"You take scabbard. And I’ll drink from goblet!"

Imperial High Palace of the Phoenix

Ceveut, the 5th of Gerna 1200 AU - 05.03.1200

The meeting with his sister went about as well as he could have hoped. Ralltene Valaerin knew today’s affairs had only just begun. The High Houses had yet to all arrive at the Imperial Palace. Which meant there was precious little time to waste. Traditionally the members of the Prime Estates had some sway in the voting of the next Emperor when reporting to their Arch Electors. As they trusted their eyes and ears in the Capital city of Lalrial. Getting the backing of a few early could be a notable boon to his chances. Of course he could not overlook the important vote of the Arch Dawnbringer. However, until the Elder Council had decided on their new representative for the Church of the Sacred Flame. He would find better success with the prime estates.

First he needed to check on Victoria, his wife and future Empress if fortune favored him, before planning their opening moves. Ralltene had the connections and name, but he would admit when it came to the realm of politics both his sister and wife easily held more experience than himself. He arrived in the halls of the Palaces eastern wing where the Duchess’s room had been prepared. He rapped the door to announce himself before entering.

Victoria opened the door dressed in a light, purple-tinted nightgown, a quill and a partially written letter in her spare hand. She beckoned her husband inside and closed the door behind him, all wordlessly, before returning to her desk to continue writing. She was barely dressed, seemed somewhat tired, and her long, black hair was drawn up away from her face. Clearly, she had been relaxing in the room—or at least conducting some sort of business not particularly strenuous—for quite some time, and had had a busy day. After about a minute of continuing her writing, she decided to inquire to her husband about the day’s events. “You’ve been making rounds of the city, I trust? Charming a few Electors?”

Ralltene took note of the letter his wife wrote and the state of her attire, quickly gathering she herself was no doubt already working on that very front.

"I spent the morning futilely attempting to convince my older sister against placing her name forward in the election," He brushed his hand through his dark hair after taking a seat in a free chair near the desk across from his wife. "She said she would think on the matter- which is answer enough. I have learned at least that save yourself, there are no other Arch Electors within the capital. Which goes for my oldest brother as well who is still in the north last I heard.”

He allowed himself a small smile as he added, “Which gives us the chance to sway their prime estates. Consolidate support there and by the time the Arch electors arrive, they will have praises for one contender from the mouths of their own Prime Magistrates. My mind goes to Lady Marra. Jakinius trained within House Tallurian, if we can steal their support we could rob him of at least one vote. Assuming he runs of course. May as well prepare the ground just in case.” He paused a moment in thought while gauging his wife's thoughts on the plan.

The Duchess smirked and rolled her eyes, sparing her husband only a momentary glance before returning to her letter. “I would compliment you on the brilliance of your proposal, but I’m far too humble to ever compliment my own idea. I talked with Lady Marra earlier this evening. She seemed pliable, but perhaps excessively so. I’m afraid anyone else who might speak with her between now and when her sister arrives could sway her in another direction. Which is why I’m writing the Queen of Tellaria a letter, for her to receive the moment she arrives in Lalrial.”

As he had guessed his wife had not been idle, "a grand idea.” Ralltene admitted. “That leaves the other members of the Prime Magistrates to woo. I’ve sent out my contacts and agents to get a feel for where the votes might go so we will know where to focus our efforts.” Ralltene leaned back as he laced his fingers together looking at a window. “Given House Gracieux and House Starborn’s… history, I’ll talk to Victor or whoever he decides to send to represent his house. If we can get his support we’ll have a firm foothold in the east which will at least show a strong backing to the other houses..”

“Thankfully, in elections if not in war, geography is nearly irrelevant. We needn’t focus our efforts on kingdoms from any particular region of Ethica. With that in mind, my sister, Lady Zoe, has established a rapport with House Seval, of Aeche. They are likely to support us. My brother, Elouan, has also spent some time in Stormgully, the seat of House Cragmore, though to woo some Cragmore girl, not the King. Nonetheless, hopefully a family that destitute is eager to select an Emperor with a plan for economic growth in mind. The last thing the realm needs right now is for all of its able-bodied men to be given swords and marched north to impale themselves on a barbarian spear.”

Victoria finished writing her letter, then neatly folded it aside, placing her quill over top of it. She then stood from her chair and walked over to approach Ralltene from behind, placing her hands upon his shoulders. The kiss she then placed upon his neck seemed to convey an intent alternate to politics, but the words she whispered into his ear did not. “We should discuss, even if only for a moment, what our plans will be should our efforts come to nought and your brother becomes Emperor.”

Ralltene did not want to dwell on that prospect. He had not seen his brother in some odd five or so years but he knew his brothers manner and mind well enough to guess where he would want to take the realm. Victoria was not wrong in her summary of what might happen should Jakinius take the throne. He sighed, "Assuming that my brother wins this election. It would not be a difficult task to obtain a seat on the High Council. Perhaps with time curve his interest into one that would benefit the realm as a whole. The problem would- of course- lay in whether or not my brother listens to reason. He has ever been as stubborn as he was thick skulled.”

“I would not count my sister out, however, she has survived the politics of the capital for this long not without good reason. I would not be surprised if she managed to turn things around.”

The Duchess, and hopefully Empress-to-be, lingered her hold on her husband’s shoulders for a short while longer, listening to his breath and feeling his body relax slightly. Eventually, she trailed her fingertips over his forearms and off of him, then slid her lithe body into bed. She smiled, embroiled herself in the sheets, and gestured her husband to bed. Tomorrow would be a busy day, but there was no peace to the wicked.

Ralltene raised an eyebrow slightly but said nothing as he joined his wife. Yes, the election to come would be a trying one he knew. Still the hardships could wait for a few candlemarks.

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

I would like to petition for the Seeker of Secrets. If its available.

@Hannibal

It is, whoever is elected emperor often picks his council members. Thus, the contenders have a means of offering something to those who support them.

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

Just can't IC post until khan gives me the thumbs up.

@Hannibal

Been getting side-tracked by an influx of Pm's, anyway, House Votigar is good. it fits the theme the east seems to be focusing around.

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

You know @Aristo that city concept you used is basically exactly how I imagined the Imperial Capital city. It has a tower, it's white, heck -right down to being between two rivers!

Also great post so far everyone. ^^

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

<Snipped quote by GreivousKhan>

I'm interested in the northern beige. :3

@Celeste

Someone (Darkspleen,) JUST beat you to the punch, by like minutes. lol.

Still should be a south spot open next to Paper. As far as Imperial faction High Houses go anyway.

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

Is there space enough for lil old me? -_^

@Paper Angel

There is always space for more players! At the moment, there are about two spots left for an Imperial house, and about two to three spots for a Nordhiemer tribe.



What is in beige(dull yellow) in the east are open spots.