Legion02

Forgotten Lands, The Great Nations

@Legion02 looks good, though I'm a bit worried that we now have two magic dominated nations with lots of slaves, we will have to work to differentiate them more when we start playing but I'm sure that won't be a problem so I don't see a need for anyone to change anything.

@Kipsateking

I understand the worry. Though let me point out a few differences. First of all, I'd say that on the scale of magical prowess the Sorcerer-Kings are far stronger than the average Ascendancy mage. Furthermore, it would appear that the Sorcerer-Kings during war, stay behind the battle lines and let slaves, abominations and other monsters do the dirty work. This is in stark contrast of the average Battle-Mage. Who is a highly trained, highly disciplined warrior.

EDIT: In general, I think the Ascendancy mostly looks like Drunken Conquistador's faction before the destruction of his lands. Which might be an interesting plot point in of itself.

Forgotten Lands, The Great Nations

The Ascendancy

Name: The Ascendancy of Tor Kalderum
Name of leader:
Brief Introduction of leader:

Other characters

Culture: Those born within the Ascendancy are indivertibly divided into two groups. The first, most numerous group is the slave caste. This caste is a mixture of various races heralding from various lands. Some of them are first generation slaves. Caught during sieges, raids or arrested by the Ascendancy themselves. Others were captured by slavers or pirates and sold on the infamous flesh markets of the Ascendancy’s ports and merchant quarters. Others are born a slave and are fated for a collared life. Slaves of the Ascendancy are burned on the cheek. Later in life they are forced to wear a magical collar. Which is an ingenious piece of magic in its own right. It contains a series of rules that can be altered, negated or added to by the Overseers. Fleeing slaves will often be hexed when they stray too far from a focal point. Or disobedient slaves suffer a cursed pain without any cause. Though the collar can also be used for reverse purposes, like relieving physical pain. These slaves are forced to work the farms and in the dangerous foundries. Generally they are employed to do the work automatons or golems cannot perform (generally due to a lack of knowledge or capability to understand more complex patterns). Slave population is so high that slave revolts are now a common thing. Though the Free People rarely suffer under such riots. As the magic collars removal is generally lethal if not the right procedures are taken. In fact, slave revolts became so common yet so ineffective that Battle-Mages are often times released upon the rioting crowd to dispatch them. As a form of training.

Life of a slave is harsh but it could be worse. Under the Decree of Slaves, slave masters must provide a bed, a roof and at least two meals a day for their slaves. The Decree details many more laws and rules, though it generally wants all slave masters not to kill their slaves without reason and make sure the slave population is maintained if not grown.

The second group of population are the Free People. Born from two original Ascendancy free People is a must to be a Free Person. Bastards born from a foreigner become slaves. Bastards born from a slave become slaves. Purity of the Free People’s Caste is of very high importance. When one year old, blood is taken from the babe and with it, his name is written in the Index. Which contains the only name of every child of the Free People of the Ascendancy. When they are five, every child is taken from their home to be raised at the Ascendancy Institutions. Which teach the basics of magic and the written language to every child in the Ascendancy. Each child is pushed towards forgetting his heritage and focus on himself. Often times teachers take the role of not just mentor but also of father figure. Once the children are 16, they are allowed to work on their own. At 24 they must leave the Institution. Free People have no family or bloodline and only carry one name. As a true meritocracy, each child is given the same basic education. Should they chose to, show enough promise and have the drive for it, they can remain at the Institutions to learn advanced magic. Often at the expense of the Institution. Free People are allowed to buy slaves from the flesh markets as early as 18 and by 26, many own at least a handful of household slaves. Marriage is quite the same as everywhere else. With the exception that there are no parents or siblings around. Most Free People enter into the service of a great mage or guild. After many years of tutelage and work, they venture forth to make their own little shop and join the guilds as master. At a Free Person’s death, all his possessions are taken by the state. The wealth is redistributed constantly. As no Free Person has any family that may remember him or her, they often times strive to make great magical breakthroughs or become figures of legends so they may be remembered in the books of history, forever.

Religion: The Ascendancy believes in many gods. In fact, one can find that they have studied every religion in the known world. Every mage knowns at least four gods, each of a different pantheon. But do they pray to them? No. They see gods as either higher beings or average mortals that somehow ascended. Instead they believe in their own arrogant power and magic itself.

Attitude to magic: Magic is everything. It is the water flowing through the sewers. It is the fresh mountain air. Magic is the key and the lock. The chisel and the marble. Magic is all. All free people have a basic knowledge of magic thanks to the universal education. Many aspire to rise above this basis and continue to train and develop their magical skills. Which is often lavishly rewarded. Those that refuse to learn magic (or are somehow incapable of performing it) will soon find themselves outcast, exiled or enslaved.

The Ascendancy has a very liberal view on magic. With little to no restraints. The best example of this is the recent allowance to research Dark Magic and Necromancy. But it seeps into lesser things as well. An arena is a place where everything is allowed as long as both opponents' wards are up. No matter the savagery of the spell, it maybe be cast. The result is impressive progressiveness, though at the cost of blood and cruelty.

Brief History: Several generations ago the Ascendancy was much like any other kingdom. The nobility ruled and wizards acted as rare advisors, requiring special education only reserved to the highly talented or the wealthy. The old kingdom was rather free, letting dwarves, elves and humans live next to eachother. It did not last. The cooking pot of cultures, races and castes boiled over into a civil war.

The mages, heavily outnumbered but greater in strength than any other faction, was forced into the war by their king. With their magic they scarred the land and killed more than any sane person could bear. Though they were not alone. Amongst the peasantry, witches and hedge wizards had grown through oral tradition. It opened up a world to the official wizards. Eventually, the mages brokered a deal. Letting so many people grow up without magic was a sin in of its own. Thus they began to travel the country side. Establishing small schools teaching the basics of magic. At the same time though, non-humans were being exiled. Their presence was far too dangerous. Since then only the merchant areas are open to non-humans.

Military
The military is comprised of a fewer number than most other nations and countries. After the civil war, it was clear that magic was the next great step in warfare. Levies of untrained soldiers could hardly stand against the forces of nature. Thus the Ascendancy began to favor quality over quantity. But the Ascendancy did far more than that. They teamed up with the Institutes to promote a life within the army. Which offered prestige, money and all your needs would be taken care of. Batle-Mages were trained to peak physical condition and during times of great peace, they were required to commit themselves to the improvement of their magical prowess. To advance the combative application of magic, other mages were granted access to the Warfare Treasuries if they could deliver research upon certain combat applicable research. Recently with the green lighting of the use of Necromancy, a great number of Necromancy-applications have risen and are sponsored by the military.

This means that each and every Battle-Mage is a force to be reckoned with. They are highly educated and well equipped with enchanted gear. As they are such a great investment for the state, they often are equipped with emergency teleport items or other emergency objects. It also means that they have to be deployed quite often to showcase their continued usefulness. All in all, the Ascendancy’s military is a very well-oiled machine that must continue to run. For if it stops, it will soon break.

Goverment
The Ascendancy is ruled by the Ascendant Council. Thirtheen of the strongest mages (named Ascendants) of the Ascendancy vote upon all major issues. Every three years all position of the Ascendants is up for grabs if you're strong enough. Though you will have to win 3 challenges and only one is combative in nature. Individual cities are ruled by the Magisters, chosen through popular vote of the citizens of each city.

Goals
Power drives the Ascenandcy. While they have certain ambitions to rule the known world and beyond, their first goal is to ascend to the power Gods and other greater beings would wield.

It's not yet done! Still need to throw in some good characters.

Forgotten Lands, The Great Nations

This is right up my alley! Okay so I will probably make a human Magnocratic Meritocracy with slaves. All free people have access to free magical education for the basics. Depending on their skills, drive and talent they can advance higher and higher. This also means that traditional family structures don't exist. It's only for humans though, as other races can never become part of the citizen class. Foreigners are restricted to the trading harbour areas. To fuel this rather idealistic nation it will depend on magical enforced slavery. The country side, while quite saturated by magic, will have been ravaged by a recent civil war. Though it would be in the process of being healed. The main goal would be to gather more and more magic, no matter the sacrifices. Until ascenscion into godhood is achievable (a lofty goal to be sure, it's a testament to the magnocratic class' arrogance). What do you all think?

Prized Bride (A New Beginning)

Keregar

Warlord of Kereg-Kor, Husband of Xaelia_@Ellion and Nadia_@Vesuvius00
Interacting with: Xaelia_@Ellion and Nadia_@Vesuvius00

---

The kid just smiled. It was an innocent smile, or at least as innocent as a Drakkan could appear. “I'm Varzar. And you two are my new mothers. That’s how it works here.” He said to Xaelia. “I’ve had three mothers already. Though my first mother died when I was born. The second had an accident when hunting. I think Alia accidentally ate her.” He said it rather off-handedly. Then he was quiet for a moment, pondering on what happened to the third. Then he remembered: “Oh and the third one wanted to run. She had hair like yours!” he said excitingly, pointing at Nadia. “Dad said she was a fiery one. He liked that. One time he came out of Sorrak’s Sanctuary with three big burn wounds from her.” He said rather excited. “He also likes it when they run. He lets them for a day or two. Then we all mounted up and went hunting for her. I didn’t catch her though. Karog, my brother-“ but then the kid got rather rudely interrupted as a Drakkan, slightly bigger than him but with a lot more mass appeared behind him and pushed him away while saying: “Move away turd.” The kid didn’t say anything, though his eyes held a mixture of anger and pain.

Behind the first, a second Drakkan came. Who looked exactly like the first. Both were built like bulls. Hitvich and Herstvich. One whistled when he saw Nadia and Xaelia. “Look at these fine things.” The other mentioned. Both were looking up the Gems from top to bottom, letting their eyes hover over the more prominent features of each Gem. Especially Nadia who had to do with a piece of clothing less. One slowly licked his lips as he observed her figure. The other of the twins grabbed a jug, pour two cups full of a strange liquid and offered the cup to his twin brother. The smaller Drakkan who was pushed aside finally got up and vanished back around the corner he came from. “You think he’ll spare them until we’re in Kereg-Kor?” one said to the other. Prompting a small laugh. “One maybe. He’ll spare the prettiest.” The other one seemed to ponder upon what his brother said for a moment. “So which one you think it will be?”

“The brunette of course.” The other twin said in an instant. Though his brother had his doubt. “He likes them fire-kissed though. I’d go for the redhead.” The other twin shook his head. “Sorrak guide you when you’re getting your bride, brother.” Though the remark wasn’t really welcome. The insulted twin, sitting from his chair, pulled a knife from his back and flung it at his brother. The blade impaled itself into the wooden cup. Right before a wide-eyed Hitvich. Who threw the cup down in a fury and charged his brother. The two clashed, sending the chair to topple backwards. The hind legs of couldn’t bear the weight. A crack later and the two were spinning off the collapsed chair. The other twin, Herstvich got on top of his twin. Two hard fists landed on Hitvich’s face. Enraged by the attack he stretched out his hand. The magic gathered in his palm in the form of fire. A third fist of Herstvich landed. Hitvich pushed his hand holding the fire into his brother’s side. The compressed flames busted outwards. The flash was enough to scare his brother off him. He managed to get up and wipe the blood flowing from his nose away. Herstvich wasn’t done though. Realizing what his brother had done, he too reached out with his magic. With his power he gathered the moister and water in Nadia’s dress together and froze them. His brother knew what he was doing though and reached out again. Hitvich began to form fire in his palms. The twins attacked exactly at the same time. The skirmish raged on for several moments longer. Soon one or the other was lifting chairs and throwing them around. Smaller furniture was soon reduced to splinters and shattered pieces.

“Enough!” Keregar’s angered shouted over the commotion. Herstvich was about to throw another chair as his brother was preparing another blast of fire. “What is going on?” he asked calmly. But everyone knew there was a fire raging inside of him. “Nothing… father.” One of the twins said, swallowing hard. “Outside! Both of you!” Both twins went outside. Followed by Keregar. Soon the clashing of metal and thunder mixed from the outside.

As quickly as the smallest, youngest Drakkan had vanished, he appeared again. This time holding two cups of tea and a smile. “Sorry for that.” He said as he walked through the splinters of the chairs and tables his twin brothers broke. “They often get that way.” He tried to explain as he handed both Gems the cups filled with tea. “It’s tea of Gemmenia. They sell it in the market.” He tried to reassure the Brides. “You’re both from Gemina right? How does it look there?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

Ocean Rescue

Still alive! Just waiting for the GM post to drop before I make my own post.

Prized Bride (A New Beginning)

Keregar

Warlord of Kereg-Kor, Husband of Xaelia_@Ellion and Nadia_@Vesuvius00
Interacting with: Xaelia_@Ellion and Nadia_@Vesuvius00

---

He first let both of his Gems finish each their introduction. Xaelia’s remarks were not well received. It was a glorious thing to do. The suffering of those Gems were their own doing, their King’s doing. He could not fight a war and paid the price. The Anathos’ price would have been dead. Yet here was a Gem insulting the legacy. His father had warned Keregar this would happen. The Gems, their short lives made them forgetful. He knew there was arrogance in Xaelia’s voice. A sense of superiority despite standing here as a bride. It had to be broken. With his left hand, his slapped her across the cheek. His iron ring cutting right below her eye. Before she could do anything he grabbed her by cheeks and pulled her closer as his face came closer to hers. Dangerously close. Close enough to force his lips on hers if he wanted to. He didn’t though. At the last moment, he turned her face slightly. His tongue just slightly liked a drop of blood spilling from the wound. He kept her face in that position for a moment as he rolled the blood through his mouth. Then he turned her face back to his. “You’re not in Gemina anymore.” He said before releasing her and pulling himself up again. “You’re in Drakka. I won’t tolerate insults like that again.” She better learned what actual glory and honor was.

Then he turned to Nadia. A seamstress? He had no use for that. He gave her another look. She could be a lot more with a lot less. “The dress. Take it off.” He simply said. His voice icy cold. Yet his eyes made clear that he wasn’t going to say it a second time. Especially when he moved his left hand towards the hilt of his knife. Either she took it off or he’d cut it off. Of course, he didn’t care what she wore underneath. “There is only one place for dresses at Kereg-Kor. And that place you Gems will have to learn to like.” Sorrak’s Sanctuary loaned itself well to silk and certain clothes. But beyond those doors, the wilderness beckoned. It even crept within the black stone walls of Kereg-Kor. No, dresses would not serve them and it would not serve him either. He knew that Nadia, with her love for the quietness of nature, would foolishly love the wilderness around Kereg-Kor. Maybe, to teach her a lesson, he should set his wolves on her on some quiet moment. Nature should be feared above all. “I hope you’re more entertaining when Sorrak demands his tribute.” He said towards Nadia. Xaelia at least dared to insult him. If she even knew she insulted him. Nadia was a meek thing. Too afraid and far too docile. He reached slowly for her, though his hand passed her face and loosened whatever kept the bun together. “Hair, at least, should be wild.” He finished.

By now he would normally order his group to leave for his estate. There they’d pack so they could start marching for Kereg-Kor in two days. Though then Rynek entered, demanding his bride. Keregar took the large sword, still wrapped in torn, blood-specked cloth and open it up with his knife. Revealing a weathered but still sharp blade. The slightly chipped edge made clear that this blade was old, very old. He lowered the weapon next to him, in front of his brides. Putting it between them and the intruder. He would kill anyone who dared to take his Brides without his permission. Deep inside he wished the fool would dare it though. He could use some bloodshed. Especially if it was to be the blood of such an arrogant cub. Though it appeared that the Princess was already handling the situation. Two companions moved from the shadows into the light towards Keregar. “We’re leaving.” He calmly said. Suddenly not caring if Nadia did what he demanded or not. The two companions led the Brides away. Not even stopping as they marched them into the rain, ushering them on towards the Estate. Keregar stayed behind for a moment. Covering their retreat.

At home, they were led into the rather bare living. The few decorations hanging on the walls were of blunted weapons and shields. The two companions vanished and from around a corner a Drakkan appeared. Even though still a very young for a Drakkan, he was still a little bit bigger than they were. He was drenched like a rat and dressed in hard-boiled leather. The young Drakkan had a great many bruises all over his arms and one of his legs. “Are you two my new mothers?” he asked surprisingly innocent for a Drakkan.

Prized Bride (A New Beginning)

Keregar

Warlord of Kereg-Kor, Husband of Xaelia_@Ellion and Nadia_@Vesuvius00
Interacting with: Xaelia_@Ellion and Nadia_@Vesuvius00

---

Gold eaters. The lot of them. Keregar was still not quite over the slight Zakroti dealt him in turn. To cower behind guards was the least honorable thing a Drakkan could do. And to guard someone who just paid you fancy gold coins was only slightly less. Was there no more honor in this wretched city? Have Drakkan truly begun to sell themselves as slaves for whatever metal shined the most? If so, his race was surely doomed. In the end, he knew he didn’t want to die at the hand of a something that he would forever refuse to call a Drakkan and a bunch of gold eaters. So he left but not before saying: “I hope we never meet on the sands.” A fool, a lesser Drakkan would take it as a victory. Thinking Keregar was afraid of him. Nothing was less true.

He hoped he would never have to see the little Drakkan boy again. Yet here he was, receiving a bride. Unlike some, Keregar had chosen to wear armor. A sign of his status as Warlord. The blackened chest piece was a testament to his age. The slain head of a horned beast yet unnamed beast hung on his shoulders covering one pauldron and torn fur cloak finished it off. He turned his attention to Prince Gaelnesh and his speech. A fire, a primal fire got ignited when his mind went towards the fresh monuments and the story his father told about the Anathos war. To the victor comes the spoils, he silently agreed. Then the Crown Prince approached him. “They will get their brides when they are ready.” Keregar simply answered. Though inside he felt proud of his son’s accomplishments. A light in an ever darkening future. At least he could die knowing he left behind a few true Drakkan. His eyes turned towards the gems. Observing them for a moment. One had apparently chosen for a rather formal wear. Though in Gem fashion. It was almost disgustingly civilized. Even her hair, instead of being wild and free and fierce was tied together in a bun. Truly a testament to how docile Gems were. Her hair though, her hair drew Keregar. Fiery red. It was not that common and that he knew. Finally her jewels demanded his gaze. The deep red gems looked much fiercer than the girl wearing them. Then he turned his attention to the brunette. She wore a dress as well. Though it would appear the first bride had put a bit more effort in his appearance. The second one looked a bit older, though not that much. Still, both would do. It was about time he got a new bride too. Sorrak’s Sanctuary had gone abandoned just a little too long.

Keregar turned to his prince once more. “It would be an honor to fight alongside you in a glorious war again.” Keregar answered. He knew that Gaelnesh was his better. The crown prince had earned that right and honor. He was one of the few Keregar would want to die by. But not now. His blood was still yearning for the thrills of battle. “I prefer to think that Drun has still a destiny for me.” He answered with a malicious grin. Yes, he wanted a war now above all else. A worthy war though. There were too many pesky things skittering around the world that he could kill. Yet he would never call that war.

Gaelnesh continued on with his duty, leaving Keregar with his two brides. One decided to speak yet she was not asked. Though she didn’t seem to do it out of defiance. The little gem knew at least to bow before him. Obedience was a good trait in Gems. Though it could get dull over time. If they managed to live long enough. Nadia, she was called apparently. Not a bad name. Though just like the girl it lacked edge. He kept silent, letting the gem stay bowed as he observed her like one would observe a piece of meat. “Look up, bride.” He said with his heavy voice. “I am Keregar. Warlord of Kereg-Kor. That name and place does not mean much too you, I imagine. But in time you will call it home.” But it would never be truly home. He knew that and if the Gems were smart enough, they would know it as well. Home was back beyond the Spire and they would never return. If they tried, well Kereg-Kor was filled with the greatest hunters of every generation. They slaughtered beasts several times their own size that were born, raised and survived in the very hostile lands around the fortress. What chance would a bunch of fleeing, foreign Gems have? He turned his gaze towards the other Gem. “What is your name. Tell me about yourself. Both of you.” He should at least know who his brides were.

Summary

Keregar receives his brides and inspects both of them with the eyes of a butcher. He likes both and listens to Nadia. He then asks Xaelia for her name and both of them to tell him about themselves.

These Dark Stars - IC is open -

I'm also assuming these suits are rather customized towards the house's preferences. I'm liking it!

These Dark Stars - IC is open -

@Ozerath Can't find them but I remember bits of them.

These mechs are ancient warmachines passed down scion to scion of a given House. Also to note, these mechs are gene-locked to that House.

So, kinda like Battletech Mechs in a way.

@Sigma

Must have missed this conversation as well. So most houses don't have more than one or two mechs?

These Dark Stars - IC is open -

It had been somewhat of a calm evening for Boros. As Head of Vacare Affaires on Aurax, one would assume that Boros was a prestigious fellow. But the truth was that every evening was calm for him. He moved his papers are a leisure pace and sometimes preferred to take a quiet day contemplating on new policies than actually doing any work. Of course none of the new policies would see the light of day. But to Boros, they were just as important. Vacare powers, in his opinion, had gone too long unchecked. He was one of the few on Aurax who was greatly delighted by the idea of the Order. People who could subdue a Vacare’s connection to the void. Alas, his request to station some of them on Aurax was denied. Probably because House Teklis and Aivira fought it fiercely.

It was no secret that Boros feared the Vacare. He was loathe to write the right permits and kept Aivira on a tight leash. All so as he sat in his home he could comfortably sip of his wine while looking over the barren, white surface of the moon and the black expanse beyond. Without any defense measures around him. What fool would dare attack the Imperial Bureaucracy’s administrators? Any Vacare caught in the attempt would be killed. It was no secret.

But then, a strange feeling crept up on him. He was alone in the apartment. Yet for a moment he thought he saw a shadow creep around in the corner of his eyes. He turned around yet he saw nothing unusual. Nothing that was moving. He returned to his own thoughts. Maybe in a few years he could get off this wretched moon and somewhere closer to the Order. Yes, he would like that very much. Then he heard a clang from behind him. Surprised he looked behind him. A plate had fallen off the counter. Now how did that happen? Alas, Boros preferred to keep things clean. So he got up and walked towards it. He reached for it, but in between blinks the plate just vanished. As if it was never there and the fat man was reaching towards nothing. Instead, the piece of nano-reinforced porcelain stood on the table top. Where it had always been. Rather confused he went to touch it. Yes, this existed. He could feel it. Maybe he shouldn’t have opened that second bottle. Boros was a man of many pleasures. He loved life and all that it offered him. So obviously he would often indulge. Putting the strange event on a wine glass too many, Boros returned to his chair. Though in the artificial light flooding inside through the window, he thought for a second that he saw someone sit in his chair. Yet when the lights flickered for but a moment, he realized it was just his imagination.

The man continued contemplating his state and career for another hour, looking outside towards Aivira. Though eventually he decided that it was time to sleep. Rather fatigued he walked to the kitchen to kill the light. Though as he approached it, he saw a distant shadow that should not be. The shadow of a person. “Hello?” he said, trying to get the attention of the intruder. As he walked into the large kitchen, he saw that there was no other person in sight. With his eyes on the strange shadow, he killed the light. Darkness filled the kitchen. Immediately he turned the lights back on. The shadow was there again. He turned the lights off and on again. The shadow was there. Unmoving. What could cast such a peculiar shadow? Curiosity was replacing fear ever so slight as he switched the lights off and on again. And again. Boros decided it was not worth losing sleep over. One more time he turned the lights in the kitchen on. The shadow was gone.

“Good evening, Administrator.” Boros heard from behind him. Surprised and afraid he turned around. A woman was sitting his chair now. The recent events suddenly all made sense. “Damn Vacare! I will have punished for this!” He threatened. Assuming some youngling Vacare was using her powers to play a joke on him. But as the chair turned around, he saw none other than Isabel Imken. “My lady! What do you think-“

“Silence.” She said. Boros wanted to continue and overrule her. Yet his lips refused to move. “As I understand it you are a man that loves our great Emperor very much.” Boros did not understand why she stated that. Sure, he liked the Emperor. Who didn’t? “So when you heard he died, you were distraught, of course.” The Emperor, dead? Why was this witch speaking to him like he already knew. “This and your wife running away with your only daughter has sent you over a cliff.” Laura ran away? With Assa? What was happening? “You couldn’t take it anymore. When you got her letter. Asking for a divorce.” Boros’ body moved towards his computer and opened a newly delivered letter. “This wore hard on you. So you decided to end it.” Boros’ mind, using panic to push through the Vacare’s influence, could snap his head towards a maliciously grinning Isabel. He wanted to yell! Scream! Curse her! But he could barely open his lips before the Witch took over his body again. “Farwell.” Isabel said, before she too vanished in a literal blink. Boros’ body still didn’t listen as he took a seat before his computer. He wrote a note saying how full of pain he was. How his life had became a pile of sadness and disappointment. How his career was doomed, his wife had left him and how his love for the Emperor broke him in two. Lies they were! Lies all of them! Laura didn’t love him, sure. That was established on the wedding night. It was a political move. So why would she even run!? No, he would not break because of the death of the Emperor. Why was he typing these lies!? He ended the note with a terrible statement. Life was no longer worth living. Suddenly he realized what was happening. Like a caged animal panicking his mind tried to fight the influence as he grabbed towards the drawer. No, he could not end his life like this. Nobody would believe it! Yet slowly his hand reached for the heavy, metal weapon inside. Slower than one would, he grabbed it and lifted it out. His mind could only slow the inevitable. “May the void embrace you, Boros.” He heard her voice for a final, wretched time before he put the gun to his temple.

---

“The bureaucrats are disposed of on Aurax.” Lord Kest of House Teklis declared in the conference room. Before him sat Isabel, grinning her malicious grin. His brother Allegan, Grand-Master of the Vacare. Commander Illistra Hazen, a low born Vacare that travelled to Aurax when she was young. A talented fighter. “All in favor to seal Aurax until the succession crisis is resolved, raise your hand now.” All hands were raised towards the glass ceiling. Beyond it was the vast black expanse. They themselves were adrift in its endlessness.

The grass around was still kept as a stark reminder that they were all once planet bound. Meant as a reminder where all of them came from. “Very well. Now for the next subject. Our Seers heard whispers of a successor. Prince Grerenth is sighted on Slichi 7K7V. The table in the middle projected a hologram before all members of the emergency council. Detailing the location. “Bureaucrats are moving in. As will no doubt others. I am of the opinion that Aurax must have a hand with the succession. A favorable Emperor could be a powerful tool. Who agrees with me?” Again, all hands were raised. “Good. Commander, send a detachment. Use a cloaked frigate. I allow you to take several of my Household Knights. As well as any Aivira members.” Isabel stood up to protest. But one, gaze from Kest’s old, weary eyes made the young woman sit down again. Commander Hazen gave Kest a short but formal nod and left the room. Then Kest turned to Isabel again. “The bureaucracy is dead in Aurax?”

“Yes.” She stated, trying to not sound unnerved the weary man before her.

“Good. He held us back too long. I am sanctioning every experiment you have, at your own discretion.” Isabel looked stunned at the man. All of them!? Was it her birthday!? “I’m also activating every Black Site you have. Aurax’s edge is Vacare and I intend to make it sharp. Even if I must blacken it.” Isabel spared no time. She got up and made a deep, formal bow before vanishing behind the door. Soon her shuttle would get her back Aivira. A great time for Vacare was approaching.

“Such freedom, brother.” The blind Allegan, now little more but a heap of robes, said. His voice sounding like old, stiffened paper getting cracked. “If anything, her exuberance should be tempered down.” Kest did not respond to his own, twin brother. If Allegan had to say it, it was because he wanted to use his voice just a little. The two had a connection like no other. It was not directly telepathic. Yet he understood his own brother better than his wife and Allegan, he understood Kest better than Kest himself.