BingTheWing

Power Over - Crime through Coercion

pls no die

The || M I N E R V A || A R C H I V E

Don't die pls, i want to write sbout creepy stuff but i'm too lazy to join the SCP wiki

The || M I N E R V A || A R C H I V E

@Polybius I'm interested, but is there a format for the entries and operation reports we can make in the Archive?

The Chronicles of Irenaea [Always Open] [Historiograhy-Based] [Low-Commital]

The Building of the Coarline
Lord Governor Aedius Starseer Sunwalker of Paledune, the Sultan of Paradise (20-68)

None know what strange thoughts afflicted the mind of Aedius Starseer in those dark days, but it was evident that his heart, once noble of stature, became hardened, his mind walled off from the sensibilities of others. His intentions were darkened, and he festered an undying hate for the countries around him. So he then strode forth from his throne and declared to his kingdom that Paledune was threatened by the near powers, and that they were the victims of an imperialistic siege, and that in order for the Cradle of Paradise to be safe, a long wall was to be constructed. He named it the Coarline, the supreme defense, the fortress that was to safeguard the line of Sunwalker forevermore. It was to be at least forty feet high all around, and was to span the entire length of the Shimmering Coast and into the Blackstone Mountains in the East, and if need be extend its grasp towards the Thickpalm Forest in the west. For Starseer was both wary of the Greenlords and the House of Eriokles, and of the Tollscythe braves in the Deadman Mountains. It was to be constructed of sandstone and lime, and was to be patrolled regularly by the Lord Governor's soldiers. Such ambition was to cause discord in the court about where to commence the building, but then it was settled that the first portions of the Line were to be built at Paradise, one length extending towards the west and the other towards the north.

Such a building proved to be foolish, especially in the eyes of the Governor's most treasured architects and planners. They said that it could not be done, the stones were too sparse and the planned lengths too unforgiving, there were no outside threats, there were not enough builders - but Starseer turned his back on them, saying that he had but one command, and that command was to build. And so they did, if only for a limited time, and with a heavy weight on their hearts that said that the feat was impossible. Then a particularly young and brave architect of the governor, Caulion, resolved in his heart that he would tolerate his lord’s folly no longer, and demanded an audience with Lord-Governor Aedius Starseer. When Starseer befell his countenance, Caulion spoke thus:

“My lord, master over Paradise, jewel of the South, counter of the stars, do you not see the madness that you have put us to?”

The Lord Governor replied:
“It is not folly, Caulion builder, for you to be part of the great efforts to defend the line of Sunwalker and the people of Paledune. Need I say more?”

Caulion replied:
“Your court chafes against your will, my lord, for there are too many other structures to be built, and too many men for tilling and too little for building.”

The Lord Governor replied:
“Then cease your building of those structures, and use their prices to pay for the Coar, and requisition the tilling-men to be turned into building-men, men who lift stone instead of harvest, and your difficulties will be no longer.”

Caulion replied:
“We cannot cease our structure-building, master, for those buildings are exceedingly prime and significant to our cause, and the city of Paradise is borne by our tillers that lift the harvest and deliver it to our milling-fields, for the people to be fed. Cease your folly, lord!”

Then the Lord Governor Starseer emanated a terrible cry, and tore his clothes, and called for his guards, and demanded the head of Caulion to be displayed at the gates of his palace for all to see, for all to bear witness to those that opposed the Lord Governor. And it was done so, and the people were intimidated, and the tilling-men turned into building-men, and the fields were left unharvested and the people starved.

[...]

[Such a state of affairs] persisted until Darius Brighteye returned.

Imelius Tallstrider, royal scribe of the court of Paradise, 59

The New World: Fate of Albion II (Remade)

@Cyclone I have like the most average country ever lmao

The Chronicles of Irenaea [Always Open] [Historiograhy-Based] [Low-Commital]

The Assassination of King Aneos
King Aneos Faerieblade of Oakwarden (-10 - 45)

Now the king [Dulderglud Felderwun of Thanesrow] took it upon himself to journey to the Oaklands, the home of his ally and friend King Aneos Faerieblade, warden of the Oaken Mounts, so that he could pay penance and tribute to the gods of the Treefaith, and thus dispel misfortune within their alliance with heavenly assistance. So the king assembled a great host, comprised of his royal guard and his courtiers and his holy men, and journeyed to the abode of the line of Oakwarden.

The good King Aneos did hear about this gathering, and set about his royal court making ready for his visitors, paying his due sacrifices to the Treelords, and was thus filled with a tranquil calm that was absent from the line of Oakwarden for many years. So when the visitors of the Meadlands came, they were greeted with lyre and praise and song, and the king Aneos set about his brother Dulderguld a crown of laurel leaves, and bowed reverently before his presence. There was a great feast, with the choicest meats and finest wines, and all hosts partook of their fill merrily. [...]

So when the time came, King Aneos bid his guests and court silence, and took his goblet and filled it with wine, and raised it in offering to the gods, and declared that the spirits of the earth would defend their alliance evermore. But ere the king could finish, a terrible cry arose from one of the tables, and several voices proclaimed that the line of Oakwarden would perish. Then five to seven men stood, and unsheathed swords and daggers hidden from the royal guard, and rushed upon the seat of the king Aneos. The king had no sword, and he was smitten in the heart by a javelin, and the killers fell on him. There then arose a great tumult in the hall, and all fled from the presence of the assassins, and the hall was tinged with the smell of blood. Our good King Dulderglud was borne out of the chaos by two of his men, and he was distraught, and cried out the name of his dead friend seven times. Then the royal guards acted, and smote one of the killers in the foot with a sword, and pursued the others, and the others could not flee, and were hacked to death in that hall.

King Dulderglud would not go, and asked for his sword, but when he had it the killers were gone, too dead to feel the sting of revenge. Then king Dulderglud took his sword, and in front of all his host smote it against the stone walls, creating a bend in the metal that not even the skilled sword-smiths of old could ever straighten, and cried aloud to the heavens, cursing them, cursing their hands which did not move, which did not stay death, which did not stay his loss of one of the greatest men he ever knew.

Aurelios Sullenblade, Courtier of Thanesrow, c. 50

You are able to see into the future. How does the avatar above you die?

Dragons on shoulders aren't 100% tamed.

The Chronicles of Irenaea [Always Open] [Historiograhy-Based] [Low-Commital]

@Publius Is the authorship of any issue? My chronicler is supposed to be a monk of a sacred order who spent a few years with the Tollscythes learning about their culture and history to share with the world.

The Chronicles of Irenaea [Always Open] [Historiograhy-Based] [Low-Commital]

In case anyone is confused about my post, it's about the 0-2 defeat the Tollscythes suffered at the hands of the Bronzespears and in which a trade agreement with the Horselords was somehow involved.

Please forgive me for low quality writing, this is kinda new to me ;-;

The Chronicles of Irenaea [Always Open] [Historiograhy-Based] [Low-Commital]

The Massacre at Deythurn
Chief Argel Sullgate Tollscythe

So it then became apparent to Chief Argel Skullgate, lord of the Deadman Mountains and bear of the southeast, that a novel change in the affairs of men was present. One sunny day, all of the clan of Tollscythe watched and lo, a great host of Horselords, awash in oaken shields and painted with the spirits of their fallen, sojourned into the camps of the great chiefs. Their leader, who bore upon him a great brazen hauberk and a large battle-axe, dismounted his steed and entreatied that the lord of the Deadlands come forward. The lord came, gilded with his tall feathered helm and great tall spear, and asked their business.
The Horselord bore his tidings. His chief the great Ulden Strongsaddle, bringer of the wrath of horse-hooves and the messenger of thunder, wished to parlay their tolls. As was the usual custom of the Tollscythes when dealing with other powers, they compensated for their abject lack of territory with charging unwary travelers exorbitant fees, lest they be assailed by beasts of the mountains or braves of their chief. My lord the Chief Argel did follow this ancient custom, and he bid the Horselord farewell, sending with him tidings of a renewed accord.
But the Horselord would not take his leave. He again bargained for lower tolls, less braves roaming the mountains, a safer passage. Thus was the parlay prolonged. After much argument, my lord the Chief Argel did agree to discuss more terms with the Chief of the Horselords himself. The great son of Strongsaddle agreed, but on the only terms that his party for parlay would come unarmed to their land. My lord the Chief Argel unwittingly agreed, unaware that his grave error would bring ruin to the name of Skullgate.

And so the two Hosts journeyed in the the Deythurn pass, the passage of the dead, where the Great Thunder smote those unwilling of the afterlife. It was then that the Bronzespears attacked.
Oh, how chilling was their cry for blood as they came pouring over the pass! How swift their arrows, and how cold their steel against flesh! At least two hundred in number overwhelmed our numbers of sixty and the forty of the Horselords. The pass was bathed in blood, the very earth stained with the innocent blood of young warriors! How dishonorable! How unfortunate! May the wrath of the Ascended bring judgement on he, lord Gultuk, sparer of no man's life, scum of the earth! My lord Argel was smitten in his right shoulder by an arrow, and was borne away from the inferno by two of his great braves. Of the Horselords I do not know. We lost fifty of our own.

[...]

Thus was one of the most abhorrent atrocities that ever befell the line of Tollscythe. My lord Argel was not to speak to another man for many months, and he was to be more careful in his dealings if the need should arise.

Brother Sturgeon of Naucalia, Servant of the Morcelian Order, Witness of the Messenger