HeySeuss

Star Wars: Revanchism [KOTOR era]

Discord Chat for RP

_{Revanchist Jedi in battle against the Mandalorians, ca 3963 Before Battle of Yavin (BBY)}

TL;DR Summary

• Star Wars, Knights of the Old Republic Era - 3963 BBY
• During the Mandalorian Wars, right at the beginning of the intervention of Revan, Malak and his followers.
• Characters will be either Jedi or Republic troopers in the same unit, based on the same ship -- the non-force sensitives should be characters that bring special skills to the table and can otherwise keep up with the Jedi. They will be uneasy squadmates and comrades. Since the Jedi eventually take command of the Republic army, no one should be surprised as the Jedi wind up taking command here.
• The RP will cover moral themes and the nature of the light side and the dark side of the force. Good, evil, right, wrong, abstract, realistic, idealistic, practical. Duality, decisions and consequences will all feature in this RP.
• Discord Chat for RP

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

• Wookieepedia - A general resource for races/things/equipment in Star Wars.
• More to be added as character sheets come in and are approved.

In Character Info

In Character Info

The Mandalorian Wars go badly for the Republic; the enemy is vast and skilled at warfare, marshaling their resources and driving in from the Outer Rim with unparalleled skill and ferocity. The Republic is tottering and frayed at the edges while one of its most potent institutions, the Jedi Order, abstains from engaging this threat to the Republic itself.

Yet within the Order, there is a faction, mostly of younger, more idealistic Jedi, who maintain that they cannot simply sit by and watch the galaxy burn, that they must make a stand for the greater good and put a stop to the rampaging Mandalorian horde. These Jedi have a strong and compelling leader in the form of a man known as Revan, or the Revanchist who argues persuasively for intervention to save the Republic. Yet the Masters hold the Order back, arguing for nonintervention in what they view as merely a political affair. They stand apart, while the Galaxy slips out of control. They fear that if they get involved, it will be all too easy to slip to the Dark Side.

When a group of Jedi visit the planet of Cathar, devastated years ago by the Mandalorians, they experience a vision of massacre and wanton slaughter, and of a woman that tried to argue against the Mandalorian slaughter, ordered by Cassus Fett, of the defeated and helpless Cathars. Revan dons this woman's helmet and vows to come to the aid of the Republic; many younger Jedi who were wavering commit, and the older Masters relent in their neutrality to the degree that they grudgingly allow the Revanchists to enter the war as a "Mercy Corps" intended to provide battlefield support. Yet the young Jedi, so close to the fray, cannot help but commit once in it; for the sake of the Republic and innocent lives, they use the half-agreement of the Masters to enter the war...

Out of Character Info

Out of Character Info

The RP is about the fall of the Jedi under Revan, their experiences in the battles and the consequences of their choices. It is about wrestling with one's very soul and how the best of intentions often pave the path to Hell (or the Dark Side, in Star Wars.) The characters are likely to be Jedi Knights, perhaps even Padawans, and fairly young. They have not experienced true warfare on this scale, nor do they realize how it is going to change them. Much like the youth in the autumn of 1914, the first year of World War I, they are in for a shock to their entire being, a life-altering event that will mark them for the rest of their days.

Of course, those of you who have played Knights of the Old Republic, 1&2, know what is in store. We'll try to avoid foreshadowing too much or giving away spoilers.

Characters should be Jedi or Republic soldiers of varying races; I'm not entirely keen on the idea of droid characters, but if one can make a persuasive argument for having one, we'll see on a case by case basis. Characters cannot be highly experienced Jedi Knights that know warfare on this scale beyond, say, a theoretical basis, rooted in military history. No Jedi Masters. I'd like to try to keep the feel of this being a new and traumatic experience for the characters, so I'm going to scrutinize things carefully; a character may be used to chasing around bounty hunters or the occasional chase in a starfighter, or smuggling or dealing with what the peacetime Jedi deal with, but nothing's going to prepare them for the scale of death and destruction that comes with a war of galactic-scale mass mobilization.

The RP will definitely start with events right after the visions on Cathar, when the Jedi are just joining; the Republic troops are probably skeptical and bitter about the Jedi stance on non-involvement up to this point. The story arc will probably end with the Battle of Malachor V, that being the final battle. For the sake of those who don't know the KOTOR games, let's not spoil things.

The characters will probably be leaders of small NPC units or independent operators, specialists, basically. The exact nature of how this works will be determined if the RP proceeds into OOC.

Character Situation Report

Character Situation Report

The characters find themselves assigned to Intelligence, Reconnaissance and Special Operations Group (IRSOG) 37, a highly specialized unit that is used for a variety of unconventional operations; they are the first to land on a battlefield, securing high value targets, prepping the battlefield or acting as an elite spearhead in the various operations of the Republic Army. There is a high turnover, because the Mandalorians are extremely good warriors, even though they are mass-recruiting their 'Neo-Crusaders' these days.

The veterans of the IRSOGs have seen heavy fighting and are aware of the dangers inherent in their trade. They are at the tip of the spear, in the most extreme of circumstances and some of their missions resemble nothing if not suicide operations; many of the most motivated recruits have had their homes devastated by the Mandalorians, or lost loved ones. That is, of course, the non-Jedi, the ones that'd carried the war to this point.

With the entry of the Jedi into the war, the Mercy Corps Revan formed is technically supposed to provide battlefield support as healers and the such, and yet the line is blurred in the IRSOG unit where the missions are not always direct combat. But the Jedi are authorized to defend themselves, and a convenient circumvention of the restrictions the Masters placed on them is for a Jedi to find themselves in a combat situation. Of course, there is circumvention and downright disobedience.

For the Jedi, this is the first step into unfamiliar territory, actual resistance, in deed, to the Jedi Masters at the various temples. They are generally believers in the rightness of this course, perhaps the Force even tells them that this is the right thing to do, the course of compassion. Many of they younger Jedi chafe at the inaction of the Masters and yet, chafing and disobeying are two different things, particularly for rigorously disciplined Jedi.

These new arrivals are not greeted by open arms by their would-be comrades. They sat out much of the war, and the average line trooper does not understand or care much about Jedi politics; there is a split of opinion between relief and derision, a sort of 'about time you got here' attitude that runs the gamut from forgiveness to bitterness for previous Jedi inaction in the face of a Mandalorian menace that seems intent on swallowing the Republic whole.

IRSOG 37 faces these problems, as well as the other problems shared by the Republic Army as a whole; the integration of Jedi and their capabilities into their structure, the adaptation of command and control and tactics to this infusion of Jedi. For while there is bitterness about the Jedi, there is no doubt that even a handful of Jedi can change the course of a battle. Much as resentments may divide allies during the downtime, there is a greater enemy that looms.

Open Roles

Open Roles

These are not the only roles available -- you can invent some, but these are slots for characters I would like to see played. Near-humans and humans are given less priority for approval than out and out aliens.

• The Jedi commander, recently-appointed of IRSOG 37, who is thrust into the strange position of aggressively pursuing this new and, to a degree, rather unfamiliar sort of war...and trying to reconcile that with what the Masters ordered and advised.
• A hard-bitten veteran of the wars, perhaps a survivor of the first fights against the Mandalorians, and the consummate soldier. Probably the advisor to the Jedi that is assuming command of IRSOG 37.
• The scion of a famous Jedi family, powerful in the force, and perhaps rebelling against the expectations that they hold the line with the Masters by joining the Revanchists.
• The vengeful survivor of a Mandalorian massacre, perhaps a Cathar (possible) that wants nothing more than to strike a blow back; this attitude is understandable, and to a degree it is easy for a Jedi to perhaps start to understand this 'nip the threat in the bud' argument from a perspective of personal experience as the war goes on.
• A highly talented soldier in IRSOG, and a force sensitive with considerable potential, if trained, if convinced to overcome his issues with the Jedi. Perhaps somewhat dark-side tainted already, though he doesn't realize it consciously.
• If possible, please try to PAIR characters or group them together; come up with mutual histories of some nature that create some degree of personal interaction.

Races

Races

While it is perfectly allowable to play humans, Star Wars has a diversity of playable races, and you are encouraged to try various races out.

• Twi'lek - The head-tail chicks. A race that often finds themselves enslaved to others.
• Rodian - A bizarre reptilian species with a comical look, but from a culture that glorifies death and hunting, often found in the fringes of space as smugglers, assassins and others. They look cute and harmless, and it's a facade they use quite well on the unwary.
• Droid - The workhorses of the galaxy, often sent to do jobs to make organic lives easier, there are nonetheless some considerable surprises to be found among various examples of these programmed, self-aware machines.
• Wookiees - Big, hairy, scary and often misunderstood, but highly useful. If all else fails, pull their arms out.
• Duros - Blue skinned, red eyed and noseless, this race is known for their daring and as one of the first spacefaring races in the Republic. To hear the Duros tell it, they invented courage and the hyperdrive.
• Bothan - A furry humanoid race with vaguely canid features that are well known for the ferocity of their internal politics, their prowess at subterfuge and spying and their ferocity toward those they deem racial enemies.
• Other races are totally allowed so long as I can read up on them at wookieepedia, though I reserve the right to turn down anything I think is too unbalancing.

Star Wars: Revanchism [KOTOR era]

I want to emphasize the Jedi in this RP, yes. It's structured similar to the games in the sense that there are some party members who aren't Jedi. Of course, Meetra Surik also tended to turn everyone in her party into a Jedi.

Star Wars: Revanchism [KOTOR era]

<Snipped quote by HeySeuss>

Does that include padawans?
Second question: Wookie Padawans?

@DeadBeatWalking

Yes padawans, and yes, Wookiee padawans are acceptable.

Star Wars: Revanchism [KOTOR era]

_{Revanchist Jedi in battle against the Mandalorians, ca 3963 Before Battle of Yavin (BBY)}

TL;DR Summary

• Star Wars, Knights of the Old Republic Era - 3963 BBY
• During the Mandalorian Wars, right at the beginning of the intervention of Revan, Malak and his followers.
• Characters will be either Jedi or Republic troopers in the same unit, based on the same ship -- the non-force sensitives should be characters that bring special skills to the table and can otherwise keep up with the Jedi. They will be uneasy squadmates and comrades. Since the Jedi eventually take command of the Republic army, no one should be surprised as the Jedi wind up taking command here.
• The RP will cover moral themes and the nature of the light side and the dark side of the force. Good, evil, right, wrong, abstract, realistic, idealistic, practical. Duality, decisions and consequences will all feature in this RP.
• We're shooting for at least a post a week

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

• Wookieepedia - A general resource for races/things/equipment in Star Wars.
• More to be added as character sheets come in and are approved.

In Character Info

In Character Info

The Mandalorian Wars go badly for the Republic; the enemy is vast and skilled at warfare, marshaling their resources and driving in from the Outer Rim with unparalleled skill and ferocity. The Republic is tottering and frayed at the edges while one of its most potent institutions, the Jedi Order, abstains from engaging this threat to the Republic itself.

Yet within the Order, there is a faction, mostly of younger, more idealistic Jedi, who maintain that they cannot simply sit by and watch the galaxy burn, that they must make a stand for the greater good and put a stop to the rampaging Mandalorian horde. These Jedi have a strong and compelling leader in the form of a man known as Revan, or the Revanchist who argues persuasively for intervention to save the Republic. Yet the Masters hold the Order back, arguing for nonintervention in what they view as merely a political affair. They stand apart, while the Galaxy slips out of control. They fear that if they get involved, it will be all too easy to slip to the Dark Side.

When a group of Jedi visit the planet of Cathar, devastated years ago by the Mandalorians, they experience a vision of massacre and wanton slaughter, and of a woman that tried to argue against the Mandalorian slaughter, ordered by Cassus Fett, of the defeated and helpless Cathars. Revan dons this woman's helmet and vows to come to the aid of the Republic; many younger Jedi who were wavering commit, and the older Masters relent in their neutrality to the degree that they grudgingly allow the Revanchists to enter the war as a "Mercy Corps" intended to provide battlefield support. Yet the young Jedi, so close to the fray, cannot help but commit once in it; for the sake of the Republic and innocent lives, they use the half-agreement of the Masters to enter the war...

Out of Character Info

Out of Character Info

The RP is about the fall of the Jedi under Revan, their experiences in the battles and the consequences of their choices. It is about wrestling with one's very soul and how the best of intentions often pave the path to Hell (or the Dark Side, in Star Wars.) The characters are likely to be Jedi Knights, perhaps even Padawans, and fairly young. They have not experienced true warfare on this scale, nor do they realize how it is going to change them. Much like the youth in the autumn of 1914, the first year of World War I, they are in for a shock to their entire being, a life-altering event that will mark them for the rest of their days.

Of course, those of you who have played Knights of the Old Republic, 1&2, know what is in store. We'll try to avoid foreshadowing too much or giving away spoilers.

Characters should be Jedi or Republic soldiers of varying races; I'm not entirely keen on the idea of droid characters, but if one can make a persuasive argument for having one, we'll see on a case by case basis. Characters cannot be highly experienced Jedi Knights that know warfare on this scale beyond, say, a theoretical basis, rooted in military history. No Jedi Masters. I'd like to try to keep the feel of this being a new and traumatic experience for the characters, so I'm going to scrutinize things carefully; a character may be used to chasing around bounty hunters or the occasional chase in a starfighter, or smuggling or dealing with what the peacetime Jedi deal with, but nothing's going to prepare them for the scale of death and destruction that comes with a war of galactic-scale mass mobilization.

The RP will definitely start with events right after the visions on Cathar, when the Jedi are just joining; the Republic troops are probably skeptical and bitter about the Jedi stance on non-involvement up to this point. The story arc will probably end with the Battle of Malachor V, that being the final battle. For the sake of those who don't know the KOTOR games, let's not spoil things.

The characters will probably be leaders of small NPC units or independent operators, specialists, basically. The exact nature of how this works will be determined if the RP proceeds into OOC.

Character Situation Report

Character Situation Report

The characters find themselves assigned to Intelligence, Reconnaissance and Special Operations Group (IRSOG) 37, a highly specialized unit that is used for a variety of unconventional operations; they are the first to land on a battlefield, securing high value targets, prepping the battlefield or acting as an elite spearhead in the various operations of the Republic Army. There is a high turnover, because the Mandalorians are extremely good warriors, even though they are mass-recruiting their 'Neo-Crusaders' these days.

The veterans of the IRSOGs have seen heavy fighting and are aware of the dangers inherent in their trade. They are at the tip of the spear, in the most extreme of circumstances and some of their missions resemble nothing if not suicide operations; many of the most motivated recruits have had their homes devastated by the Mandalorians, or lost loved ones. That is, of course, the non-Jedi, the ones that'd carried the war to this point.

With the entry of the Jedi into the war, the Mercy Corps Revan formed is technically supposed to provide battlefield support as healers and the such, and yet the line is blurred in the IRSOG unit where the missions are not always direct combat. But the Jedi are authorized to defend themselves, and a convenient circumvention of the restrictions the Masters placed on them is for a Jedi to find themselves in a combat situation. Of course, there is circumvention and downright disobedience.

For the Jedi, this is the first step into unfamiliar territory, actual resistance, in deed, to the Jedi Masters at the various temples. They are generally believers in the rightness of this course, perhaps the Force even tells them that this is the right thing to do, the course of compassion. Many of they younger Jedi chafe at the inaction of the Masters and yet, chafing and disobeying are two different things, particularly for rigorously disciplined Jedi.

These new arrivals are not greeted by open arms by their would-be comrades. They sat out much of the war, and the average line trooper does not understand or care much about Jedi politics; there is a split of opinion between relief and derision, a sort of 'about time you got here' attitude that runs the gamut from forgiveness to bitterness for previous Jedi inaction in the face of a Mandalorian menace that seems intent on swallowing the Republic whole.

IRSOG 37 faces these problems, as well as the other problems shared by the Republic Army as a whole; the integration of Jedi and their capabilities into their structure, the adaptation of command and control and tactics to this infusion of Jedi. For while there is bitterness about the Jedi, there is no doubt that even a handful of Jedi can change the course of a battle. Much as resentments may divide allies during the downtime, there is a greater enemy that looms.

Open Roles

Open Roles

These are not the only roles available -- you can invent some, but these are slots for characters I would like to see played. Near-humans and humans are given less priority for approval than out and out aliens.

• The Jedi commander, recently-appointed of IRSOG 37, who is thrust into the strange position of aggressively pursuing this new and, to a degree, rather unfamiliar sort of war...and trying to reconcile that with what the Masters ordered and advised.
• A hard-bitten veteran of the wars, perhaps a survivor of the first fights against the Mandalorians, and the consummate soldier. Probably the advisor to the Jedi that is assuming command of IRSOG 37.
• The scion of a famous Jedi family, powerful in the force, and perhaps rebelling against the expectations that they hold the line with the Masters by joining the Revanchists.
• The vengeful survivor of a Mandalorian massacre, perhaps a Cathar (possible) that wants nothing more than to strike a blow back; this attitude is understandable, and to a degree it is easy for a Jedi to perhaps start to understand this 'nip the threat in the bud' argument from a perspective of personal experience as the war goes on.
• A highly talented soldier in IRSOG, and a force sensitive with considerable potential, if trained, if convinced to overcome his issues with the Jedi. Perhaps somewhat dark-side tainted already, though he doesn't realize it consciously.
• If possible, please try to PAIR characters or group them together; come up with mutual histories of some nature that create some degree of personal interaction.

Character Template

Character Sheet

Name:
Species:
Age:
Rank/Title:
Planet of Origin/Birth:
Force Sensitive Y/N:

Appearance:

Insert a physical description here; include how they dress.

Skills/Abilities:

• Please list with most potent skills first.
• -
• -
• -
• -

Equipment:

• List here, item by item.
• -
• -
• -
• -
• -

Personality:

A psychological profile, something to work off of. It should relate to the character history and give insight to their motivations and why they're here.

History:

A personal history of the character -- enough to get a feel of where the character is coming from. Please don't say, "The history will come out in the RP." I want you to work on the history ahead of time so you have a better, clearer picture of how your character thinks and acts. You don't have to nail down every minute detail, just flesh out the important parts of the character's life, what shaped them into who they are.

Relationships and Acquaintances:

How your character knows at least one or two other PC's. I want there to be some overlap between characters, so this is sort of how I am trying to prompt that.

Races

Races

While it is perfectly allowable to play humans, Star Wars has a diversity of playable races, and you are encouraged to try various races out.

• Twi'lek - The head-tail chicks. A race that often finds themselves enslaved to others.
• Rodian - A bizarre reptilian species with a comical look, but from a culture that glorifies death and hunting, often found in the fringes of space as smugglers, assassins and others. They look cute and harmless, and it's a facade they use quite well on the unwary.
• Droid - The workhorses of the galaxy, often sent to do jobs to make organic lives easier, there are nonetheless some considerable surprises to be found among various examples of these programmed, self-aware machines.
• Wookiees - Big, hairy, scary and often misunderstood, but highly useful. If all else fails, pull their arms out.
• Duros - Blue skinned, red eyed and noseless, this race is known for their daring and as one of the first spacefaring races in the Republic. To hear the Duros tell it, they invented courage and the hyperdrive.
• Bothan - A furry humanoid race with vaguely canid features that are well known for the ferocity of their internal politics, their prowess at subterfuge and spying and their ferocity toward those they deem racial enemies.
• Other races are totally allowed so long as I can read up on them at wookieepedia, though I reserve the right to turn down anything I think is too unbalancing.

B!tchfest: a healthy release for our non-roleplay annoyances.

Honestly, a couple people like to act like they own the sidebar and have indicated that they are somehow entitled to call shots on content. Meanwhile, I thoroughly enjoy disregarding those directives.

PS. Good trolling has gone the way of the dodo. Repetitive shitposting is tedious and people are trying way too hard. Firing a hundred posts for two likes is way too little return on investment.

Game of Thrones

Posted up.

Game of Thrones

He could feel the cold even through the fur wrapped around his boots, the crunch of the snow under-foot. The winter chill cut through the air, so cold that it burned exposed skin, the wind finding its way through every gap in his clothing. His chest heaved but his throat burned with the dry, frozen air that rasped through his throat.

The coast of Bear Island was as it always was, stormy and gray-blue against pine and rock. There was little here of worth but fish and wood, but that was plenty enough for wildlings fleeing the winter in search of food and warmth. Foam and chunks of ice rolled up against the shore. Here were the boats and the raiders, the boats themselves hit the shore with a scrape against the snow. Wildlings came to raid Bear Island, it was a way of life, but that didn't mean that Bear Island rolled over for the raiders. Wildling or Ironman, it made little difference. There was the bitter cold.

Wildlings climbed over the gunwales and jumped off the craft, boats more so than ships, and shambled ashore through the ice and snow accumulated on the beach. The raiders were clad in the shaggy furs and carried an array of weapons; stone, bone, old iron, crudely wrought weapon with the gleam of good steel here and there. There were no sers up here, and there were no fainting maidens or fluttering banners. This was not the stuff of song, though it was the stuff of story in the North.

Steffon and the other men and women of Bear Island alongside him were clad similarly, in fur and wrappings over what armor they might have. It made them look massive, when it was really a shivering wretch beneath all that. The wind was an icy razor, and it only seemed to be picking up more of an edge as the sun started to sink. They stood in a loose line, ready to meet the raiders with weapons in hand. Here, on the edge of the world, there was no Lannisport pike lines or Marcher bowmen or reach knights. There were a bunch of hardy Bear Island smallfolk with harpoons, spears, billhooks and wood axes. Steffon had a battle axe, with a steel-reinforced handle and a counterweight, but he was one of the few. He'd grown too quickly and didn't have plate armor that fit anymore; what he had was a ringmail shirt like some of the other more experienced fighters.

With the dying of the light, as the raiders struggled for a foothold in the icy sand and snow, Steffon's eyes went up; he was jarred. There was only one bird in the air, not a gull or anything of the sort, but a single raven. It didn't caw out. The crash of the waves was drowned out by the howling of the wind and the sudden sepulchral chill that permeated everything. Even with gloves on, he could feel the chill on the ring mail under the fur and through the tunic beneath that.

It was the space of a couple breaths and then the enemy was upon them; a particularly large and brutal specimen of wildling with a crude shield hewn from some ancient tree trunk. He could feel his breath creating moisture in the scarf over his face as he huffed out his breaths from the exertion of the clash. Sweat rolled down his body beneath the layers of fur and wool, despite the chill in the air.

His axe, the wildling's sword. He was not as large as the wildling, but he was strapping and fierce, just come into his youth's full flower. His blood sang and he felt the surge of loose, confidence strength move through his limbs as he parried, dodged and kept swinging at that damned knotty oak-stump of a shield that his foe brandished. It felt like an hour of trading blows, of hacking the shield down with his axe, with his arms feeling numb from the exertion, before he felt the axe crunch into the wildling's head, shearing the helmet.

The man did not go down. Instead, two blue eyes bored into him, staring balefully, as Steffon tried to get the axe out in time, even as his foe swung his club, forcing him to relinquish the axe and fumble for his knife. As he backpedaled, he felt pure cold cutting into his side. He staggered and felt his knees give out from under him as his life's blood gushed into the cold, steaming. He saw the sight of the blood freezing upon a thin blade of ice, and a black hand that held it. He pulled his axe free and tried to swing with the last of his strength, but his attacker was too nimble and too graceful; cold blue eyes. The blade sheared through his axe's haft cleanly and bit into him again. He saw the terrible beauty of his assailant even as his vision faded.

Behind him, he felt the sting of terrible fire, the flames licking his back. Overhead, he could hear the raven's caw.

But this isn't how it actually happened, he heard his own voice protest, disembodied, disassociated.

This isn't about what was, it is about what will be, a voice from above replied.

--

He awoke with the lingering impressions of cold and heat, the sweat of the night and the need to forget the night's dream. The house was a drafty old manor in King's Landing, built by Orys during the years of Aegon the Conqueror's reign. It was essentially a manor keep near Aegon's Hill that allowed the Baratheons to stay in King's Landing when needs must dictate their presence there. The place was built timber as things were in the early days of Aegon's reign, before the Red Keep was completed and it never really was updated. There were, of course, more impressive manors owned by families that came later, but it was the Baratheons that fought alongside Aegon from the start and were, indeed, rumored to be related through the blood of Aerion, Aegon's father. The family took pride in the house's modest construction as one might in a tapestry or a Valyrian steel blade. Set near Aegon's hill, it faced the Dragonpit on Rhaenys's Hill...which was to say, Flea Bottom.

He enjoyed that particular view and he enjoyed the manor. It was an unpretentious sort of house, and he always liked that about the place. It had character, even if it was peeling paint and old boards that creaked at times. The furniture was fancy enough, though the house itself was not designed to hold as many people as had come with him to King's Landing. The city itself was a bit of a festering pit, one that his father never liked, but he'd always appreciated the vitality of the place, the ability to find interesting new people and get into trouble. They'd ridden in the day before and, of course, had gotten the mocking cheers of the jaded Kingslanders, including the whores, the carters and the others. When they gave their mouth-farts and mock-applause, he gave them a big grin and a wave when others would pucker up in the saddle, or perhaps, if particularly odious, set a man at arms on a particularly offensive example.

He cast off the furs from the bed and the night's concerns; it was early spring, and there was a slight chill to the air that prickled his skin, though it was nothing like the chill that he'd woken up with. Here in the South, it was warm compared to Bear Island, where he'd fostered with his mother's family. The creaking of the floorboards gave warning to his rise, though it was possible that the house's servants, used to a lax standard of tending to the house without inhabitants, were hoping that the new Lord Baratheon would stay abed longer in the morning, especially after arriving through the King's Gate only the previous afternoon.

Little did they know of Steffon. He'd come through the King's Gate alright, with a small procession of mounted warriors and squires, boar and deer taken in the hunt strapped across the backs of packhorses, after a long and winding tour on horseback of the Stormlands, starting with Nightsong and the Marches. They subdued bandits, they cleaned out jails and they rounded up a procession, behind them, of men to be consigned to the Night's Watch, an escort for his cousin, Rickard, on his way north. They traded the hunt's bounty for the wares of the farmers, that they might have cabbage and carrots and onions to go with their deer liver and other meats, or butter to sear their fish with. It was a rugged sort of way to live and hold court, having the couriers chase them down, and sending them back out with business, but it allowed him a good sense of what was going on in his Stormlands while enjoying life away from the confines of walls.

They lived rough, they enjoyed the company of hedge knights. They helped smallfolk dig their ditches with a laugh. They drank in the taverns along the way. There were some houses too noble to shit, but that wasn't the Baratheon way at all. Open hands and open demeanors, loud voices that spoke the truth, rather than the dainty and silken ways of a more preoccupied sort of nobility that didn't know their balls from their chins. Tall and built large as his family was wont to be, he had little patience for the niceties. There was more to a Lord's work than prancing in silk and farting on cushions. There was, in the essence, the duty to wage war and give justice, to provide stewardship. To ensure that the lands were being run properly, that they would be prosperous. Attending the coronation gave him the excuse to leave matters in the hands of his seneschal, maester and mother and to venture out. It wasn't an abrogation of duty, but rather the essence. The Stormlands were smaller and poorer than the other kingdoms, and its smallfolk, doughty and hard-headed, weren't the sort to just follow someone because His Lordship said so. They had to have a reason to follow.

The first order of business in the morning was a good sweat. And so the morning's repast was prepared by the squires themselves, who knew well enough how to cook an egg, rather than the house servants that were unused to the disruption of their live. The knights got right to it, stretching limbs, getting the blood flowing. Exercises, drill, practice. Right in the courtyard of the manor house, which was given over to weapons and straw men on posts, hastily assembled, and a clear area for men to train. Part of the reason there were so many damned hedge knights was the offer that Steffon made in every alehouse and along the road; beat him in the yard, take a reward. Fight well, and be considered for service. He wanted to stay sharp against tough men, not merely beat on courtiers intent on kissing his backside. He wanted a real fight, not some scripted farce.

And so it was a mixed group out in that yard; sons of noble houses and hedge knights, grizzled men-at-arms and squires caught up in the chaos of Lord Steffon's morning routines with gusto. The yard, the clash of weapons, the exhilaration of a good sweat in the morning. Some were sweating out the last evening's drink, but there was little mercy for that habit. He'd learned, in fighting during the winter, that real battle rarely gave a tinker's damn if a man was feeling perfectly well or not when the foe came knocking. Axe, sword, polearms, he preferred the variety of weapons in his hands and in the hands of those he met in the yard.

It was easy enough, in the course of squaring off against his cousin Rickard, to lose track of the time, even to lose track of the small bruises that the wooden weapons raised. There was, of course, the opportunity to fight, later, with tourney weapons and to train with live steel against the straw men, but that was generally after the breakfast was done. The sweat from the morning's duels made them easy targets for the dust and clay of the courtyard to cling to them, and so Steffon was dumping water over himself when the servant arrived with the message. He didn't bother to pull a tunic back on.

He raised an eyebrow at the color of the message, in rose hue with a scent to it, but opened it all the same, even as he strode toward a brazier. He read and he walked, managing not to trip, but once he arrived at the brazier, he dropped the note in the flame.

"What's that?" Rickard asked him. Stockier and slightly shorter, there was still a family resemblance on the Mormont side. The man was stockier, barrel-chested and built low to the ground, deceptively fast for a man that looked like he could take a Crakehall on in a wrestling match and win.

"A bit of business."

"What sort?"

"Nothing to worry over. Best we cut off the morning routine early, we'll need to dress to present at court," he told his cousin gruffly as he carefully replaced his practice weapon to its place.

That, of course, hadn't been the plan before he'd gotten the note. But plans changed.

Game of Thrones

I'm gonna work on that first Baratheon post tonight. I figured out how to start it.

Pandora's Inheritance [Modern/Fantasy]

@Dylan@Quinntessential@Fuzzybootz@Sypherkhode822@PhoenixWhite@architect

Going with the idea that Shoebox has reportable data that they're trying to smuggle out to reporters who are going to tour the place. It's a place to start, at least. ;)

I think the plan here is to create a disruption and disturbance to allow for the smuggling of the documents. Also, feel free to take the plot forward in other ways. If you want to turn it into an actual riot, that works. Work on plotlines that you think will add value down the line, such as characters that are trying to develop powers and contact spirits and so forth.

Pandora's Inheritance [Modern/Fantasy]

"Two days" Shoebox's contact said by text. So that's why he was here in the yard, passing the word onto Nellis' hardest detainees, the guys that'd been in prison before. Emergence didn't care about a clean criminal record.

The air was flint-dry, it rasped on his throat in the Nevada heat. His limbs were weary, but he felt a surge of exultation when he thought about it.

He pulled himself up on the bar, hauling his own body weight up. Congress decided that weight equipment for convicts was dangerous after watching that movie with Robert DeNiro, but Roo was a veteran of prisons and knew what he needed for the pullup bars; mostly a good pair of gloves, which were easier to score here than in a traditional institution.

"You think they running a game, trying to fuck with us, Roo?"

"Nah, Shoebox doesn't think so." Rufus pointed out.

"Yeah, well you trust the little fuckin' man?"

"He's a reporter, he knows this shit. So what you gonna do?"

"Guess we find out if we bein' played. The longer we wait, the easier it is for them to find our shit," grunted Bloodhound.

"Ain't got nothing to lose," Roo pointed out.

"Except those documents if this reporter fucks us. What if he sells us out when he reads that shit?"

"Shoebox says..."

"Yeah, I know what the little man says, but what you think?"

"Gotta try. What we got to lose?"

They both glanced up to the lab area; a shiver went up Rufus' spine. They'd both been in there.

There were other differences from a traditional prison; the yards were not divided into Irish, Italian, Blood, Crip and so forth areas, though there were enough people with convict experience to enforce a certain order. In 1992, in LA, hostilities between gangs were suspended in order to fight the LAPD and the same truce held here. It wasn't just hardened criminals involved in that, it was other elements within the Nellis facility. That's why he and Bloodhound, each from sets affiliated with rival gangs, were even talking.

Everyone expected uprisings and attacks and violence, and it was true that there was a little bit of that here and there, but it was mostly the silencing of snitches, a good outlet for people that needed to punch something out -- the feds kept trying to slip in paid informants, but they were sniffed out quickly enough by a variety of means...that was the Bloodhound's job.

He was from LA, another dealer. Once Bloodhound sniffed out a snitch, they beat the snitch down. The MP's still hadn't figured out how they were identifying the snitches. Some people wanted the snitches dead, but Roo and Bloodhound pointed out that it'd just give the military an excuse. It kinda made Roo amused; a guy that'd been a salesman on the outside was saying, 'we gotta whack this guy' and it was the gangstas in the room at the time that just gave him the sideye, because he was crazy.

Meanwhile, Nellis was becoming a model facility. The others were blowing up with riots and violence, but Nellis was constantly running classes for yoga and tai chi. It looked like a picture of suburban new age bullshit, people with their mats spending half the day bending their joints.

A couple of the screws, MP's rather than the typical CO's, might have been wise to the idea that they had something up their sleeve.

He pulled in another breath and pulled himself up. The sweat, the endorphins, the clarity of mind helped him. During these sessions, he tried to touch that hot center of his mind, where the magic was. He could feel it, but he couldn't figure out how to consciously use it. He could unlock it in the course of activity, where he entered a dream state. The problem was the drugs. That shit kept him back, made it so that his mind was missing the connection. It fogged him.

There were pullup bars at least, and it was sort of where the old school prison types congregated, the guys who knew street life and jail life. It got watched a lot harder than the yoga mat area, with the more sedate suburban bougie types. Being penned up was hard on the latte drinkers but a lot of them were adjusting.

Still, he'd had enough punishment on the bars, so he let himself down, message delivered. He made his way past some of the others. In other times, they'd probably be rivals, but part of regulating Nellis involved keeping the peace. The truce held, even with one of the guys that had Aryan tattoos. They didn't have to like each other, but they had bigger problems...a glance up showed a drone doing its lazy circuit of surveillance. People gave up flipping the pilot off months ago, in resignation.

But the idea that they were watching hastened his step, out the yard and among the rest of genpop, regular people that kept a bit of distance. He didn't exactly hide his gang affiliations and people were still uneasy with him, but he didn't really care. They were all dangerous in Nellis, in the eyes of the government, but some clung to their old lives more than others. They saw the neck tattoo and the hard eyes, the tats and the roll. They saw the red. He didn't bother to hide it.

After a couple minutes, he was in the air conditioned tent where he bunked with others. It was the little man in the cage that he addressed the report to, "Yeah, Bloodhound says he's in. He'll guarantee the handoff."