Quite interesting indeed. Count me in.
MachineSoul
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You are able to see into the future. How does the avatar above you die?
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7 yrs ago
Forum: Spam Forum
Death by cat stomach acid and pancreatic enzymes.
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Player Criticisms; everyone's responsibility or just GMs?
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7 yrs ago
Forum: Roleplaying Discussion
I'm all for transparency and offering criticism where it is needed. It needs to be done graciously, and if you ask me, privately. Posting OOC criticism can bring negative feedback from others since most would interpret said criticism as a personal attack. Every roleplayer should improve their writing skills, and if it takes a nudge or two to put them in the right direction, why not?
But what also needs to be taken into consideration is that some just don't want to improve, and prefer to play as they usually do. This mentality usually comes from a lack of serious interest in roleplaying. What I mean by that is they don't really find the pleasure in sitting down and plotting the next move of their character, and just goes with what feels appropriate, and perhaps, awesome at the moment; or, like you suggested, they're outright lazy and reiterate what others have written before them.
As to who should be responsible for telling the player what they're doing wrong, I believe anyone who wishes to help others improve. Perhaps the GM won't necessarily mind that player's writing style (or lack thereof) since it does not directly affect the story in one way or another. Thus, the intervention of a player is most needed. So what if multiple criticisms arrive on their end? There's an infamous saying in my country which I find fitting here, and it roughly translates to:
"If two people tell you you're drunk, perhaps it's time to go home."
But what also needs to be taken into consideration is that some just don't want to improve, and prefer to play as they usually do. This mentality usually comes from a lack of serious interest in roleplaying. What I mean by that is they don't really find the pleasure in sitting down and plotting the next move of their character, and just goes with what feels appropriate, and perhaps, awesome at the moment; or, like you suggested, they're outright lazy and reiterate what others have written before them.
As to who should be responsible for telling the player what they're doing wrong, I believe anyone who wishes to help others improve. Perhaps the GM won't necessarily mind that player's writing style (or lack thereof) since it does not directly affect the story in one way or another. Thus, the intervention of a player is most needed. So what if multiple criticisms arrive on their end? There's an infamous saying in my country which I find fitting here, and it roughly translates to:
"If two people tell you you're drunk, perhaps it's time to go home."
-Plot-
In 2035, humanity has evolved with a bitter taste in its mouth after a long-drawn conflict against terrorism. Massive amounts of PMCs that formed in the two-decade time span have either disbanded or dissolved in a larger company, Artemis Security Group. The CEO of this PMC had gained massive popularity, reaching a cult following for his brash and bold statements against terrorist threats and unrelenting attitude in his efforts to eliminate extremism. His influence and economic strength have grown to a point that the people of U.S. prefer to call ASG's hotline for security and law enforcement, as well as for medical emergencies or for firefighting. If one would walk down the street, one would see at least a few ASG law enforcers, while government agents are either nowhere to be seen, or have left the public space and joined the private sector.
The mainstream media's attitude and agenda have fundamentally changed, as news companies are obligated to inform the public of their bias. Technology advancement has made information very easy to access, scholarly articles can now be interpreted by the common man. Social media has become an integral part of human culture, one would be hard-pressed to find someone without at least one active account on a social media platform. With all this, people are growing more and more disconnected from one another. Handheld devices have become nearly indispensable, as more and more technologies are being produced to facilitate connection with the virtual sphere; yet, very little is done to alleviate the disjointing of the population. With the political scene constantly being on the ice and under heavy criticism, it would seem that the resolution of terrorist conflict has disbanded the people further.
Public domain jobs are slowly becoming less desirable due to the workplace quality and paycheck being more attractive within ASG's branches. The private sector has flourished thoroughly, as the company has extended its business across multiple fields of activity, including IT, robotics, fossil and alternative fuel development.
Now, where does the player fit in all this? A certain friend invited you, as well as other acquaintances, over to his workshop to celebrate his failure with some beer, to paraphrase his text message. He's a brilliant engineer specialized in robotics and material resistances, who has developed a prototype for an advanced combat suit destined to fight in covert ops theaters. He entered a design competition with it, and despite the groundbreaking technology he presented, ASG has opted for a different design. So, here's the math:
Beer + advanced stealth combat suit + bad decisions = stumbling upon something dire, that would make conspiracy theorists seem tame.
The catch here is that the end goal is really not sounding all that bad, but the means to achieve it are worrying. With so much power on their hands, this force willing to drive the blind and divided population forward in a new world system might get heavily corrupted on the way, IF they're not already oozing with corruption.
-Details-
Now that was a mouthful, huh?
Have you ever wanted to sneak into corporate buildings and steal valuable information from the server room, sneaking past guards, cameras and deactivating motion sensors on the way? Have you ever dreamed of dashing and hurling yourself from rooftop to another while frantically chased by law enforcement VTOLs? Is brawling with security hand-to-hand, with nightsticks, stun batons, or even fucking swords a wet dream of yours? Is the prospect of lying to your friends, helping your mates not to fall into desperation or motivating your team to stay in the fight attractive? Then this is the roleplay for you!
I am currently seeking for someone sharing the same sort of interest towards half-utopian half-dystopian futuristic roleplay, with realistic technologies and advancement of social interaction. If you really want labels, post-cyberpunk.
The player will take the role of the character being called over by this friend; it would seem rather odd since your connections with him haven't been that strong since neither of you really spent time nurturing your friendship. What will follow is a series of misadventures as they struggle to keep their social lives intact while plotting to do something about this conspiracy they discover. In essence, two vs the world. Bear in mind that I will mostly be a GM rather than a player, but that doesn't mean you cannot contribute! In fact, I encourage you! Surprise me: make poor or brilliant decisions, twist and turn the story, play with the feelings of characters, lie, fall in love, isolate, go insane, grow a thick skin, throw everything you've got on the table to make this journey unforgettable and absolutely fucking badass.
What do I expect of my partner?
- 1. Be over 18. There will be no adult themes, but several mature issues will be approached.
2. English is not my first language, but that does not stop me from improving my writing. Therefore, I wish to see the same effort coming from you. Spellchecking, grammar checking, I do those as well. Even so, I am aware mistakes slip past, I make a lot of them too; don't worry, I'll most likely never draw attention upon that unless it's REALLY bad.
3. Quality over quantity, but I'm all for quality AND quantity. We won't be spewing novels back and forth, don't worry, but I do enjoy sitting down and reading through my partner's writings.
4. Contribute to plot development. I have the story plotted out, but I'm also prepared for any surprise twists and changes to the dynamic of the progress
5. Don't confuse IC with OOC. This will be taken in PMs, thus, we will have two separate threads for in and out of character.
6. You may have noticed that I haven't specified a pairing, mainly because this is a player & the world, rather than player & player. Both male and female characters are welcome!
7. If you wish to play more than one character, do let me know so we can figure out what can be done, aight?
8. Gotta disappear for a few days because of x and y reason? Shoot a PM so I'm at least informed that you're going off the grid.
9. To enjoy and have fun. Something goes awry, please to tell so we can shift things around and make everything interesting once more.
What can you expect from me?
- 1. A laid-back, relaxed dude open to most things. If you have a stupid idea, bring it! If it's backed with a good argument, it may get implemented.
2. I'm a big doofus. I may mix things up, do some stupid stuff myself, forget shit, you name it.
3. Story-wise, you can expect tension, drama, explosive action, more tension, an unrelenting play of heartstrings, epiphany, tragedy, misery, uplift. I love to play with my player's emotions, I'm notorious in my tabletop RPG group for bringing people to tears and really hit home with themes and situations.
4. Lots of rad music and imagery! From high-intensity drum&bass rhythms to poignant ambiance tunes, from fitful metal-themed fight music to unnerving stealth cues.
5. I love atmospheric world building, so I might get very descriptive with the surroundings. I find that there's a lot of personality that can be found in a backdrop, and really, when you're trying to sneak around or find an escape route, attention to detail and surroundings will save you.
6. Back-up plans for mostly everything. I am prepared for the wildest outcomes because what I want is to tailor the world's evolution around the player's decisions. The player will adapt to the challenges I have to give, the opposing party will adapt to the player's input.
7. Consistent replies, unless I specifically state otherwise. I will keep you up to date with my progress on the post
8. Transparency. If I don't like something, I will let you know. If I'm extremely excited about something, again, you will know.
9. To have fun, above all. Yes, it's a serious themed story with some pretty difficult stuff to tackle, but it's those hardships that are fun to face with someone just as willing.
If you're still here and interested, please, throw a PM my way so we can discuss some final details and jump right in! I'd rather keep this thread clean for bumping purposes, all replies to my interest check will be ignored. I hope to hear from you soon.
But, remember:
Trust no-one
Shut down all of your devices
Wipe all of your memory disks
Stay out of sight
They know.
Shut down all of your devices
Wipe all of your memory disks
Stay out of sight
They know.
Oh no, my masterfully crafted scheme has been exposed, what will I ever do?
Probably post some more pictures at a later time, under the same pretense of "this is a bad idea/mistake/shouldn't do this".
Probably post some more pictures at a later time, under the same pretense of "this is a bad idea/mistake/shouldn't do this".
youtube.com/watch?v=Lxbdvo2vFwc
The comment section of this video has made me a happy lad'
I'm now a very happy man as well, to see people of a community that I enjoy disprove of this "cultural enrichment" Europa has to suffer.
Deciding to not end it all.
I've failed the entrance exam twice (nailed it on the third attempt) to the University I coveted. Once I got in, I decided that I will rework my lifestyle and change everything about me, so I will enjoy life as a hard-working student. A few weeks in, I found out just how big of a letdown this University I am attending to is; everything you can think of is poorly organized and the professors there have rather absurd demands, since they don't know any better. Enter dysphoria, and lack of motivation. I try to look for kernels of hope in this massive turd, find very few and in-between. Third year in (the curriculum I'm following lasts six years), there are just too few reasons for me to even try anymore. My relationship was in the toilet and sinking further down, I'm barely attending lectures, I'm plagued by insomnia and stress (since I find no good reason to study); I'm having panic attacks, due to that I'm not very prepared for exams and tests, so I try to study until late, or rather, early in the morning. Because my grades were piss poor, the state stops paying for my education and now I have to tell my mother that she has to pay my tuition (not from the US, in case you're wondering, and we're struggling with our financial situation). I get suspicious of my girlfriend, I lash at her and the other person, at my family, at people around me; I come to the conclusion that I am a burden to everyone, and to society. And, honestly, no one was stating the otherwise either.
So, I laid in bed, eyes wide open staring at the ceiling, heart beating itself out of my chest. I had a glass of water by my bed, and a box full of Zopiclone (sleeping pills). Funny thing is, I wasn't trying to convince myself to do it; I find this nagging idea that I should not, and I start to obsess over it, as I'm rationalizing why I should take the lot and swallow. I'm not sure how I could stay so still and debate this with myself for so long, and just how something in my brain locked me in place as it tried to stop me from completing what I have carefully premeditated. But, all of a sudden, I find it hard to be egoistical for once in my life. I just see how everyone would crumble around me: my mother, my sister, my grandparents, people that knew me. Before this moment, I couldn't care less, but right there and then, it started to hurt. Not only because of my vivid imagination soaring and just playing scenarios in my head, but also because I felt so weak and cowardly that I did not have control over the very last decision I could make. I felt I was too cowardly to complete it. And to think, it was the perfect moment, no one would observe or know until it was too late. The last hurdle was myself.
Now, I find it amusing that I had become a hurdle to myself. Dawn broke, my plan had been foiled. It has been one year since, and right now I'm dealing with much of the same situation regarding the University. Some might find it masochistic that I decided to pursue this career path when it is obviously burying me an early grave, but I have harnessed a very intimate experience and knowledge about death. I want to believe that this experience will help me combat it better, for I shall dedicate my life to combat it through the oath I want to take. I will recite it loud on proud, with the very lips that wanted nothing more but to kiss my sworn enemy.
I've failed the entrance exam twice (nailed it on the third attempt) to the University I coveted. Once I got in, I decided that I will rework my lifestyle and change everything about me, so I will enjoy life as a hard-working student. A few weeks in, I found out just how big of a letdown this University I am attending to is; everything you can think of is poorly organized and the professors there have rather absurd demands, since they don't know any better. Enter dysphoria, and lack of motivation. I try to look for kernels of hope in this massive turd, find very few and in-between. Third year in (the curriculum I'm following lasts six years), there are just too few reasons for me to even try anymore. My relationship was in the toilet and sinking further down, I'm barely attending lectures, I'm plagued by insomnia and stress (since I find no good reason to study); I'm having panic attacks, due to that I'm not very prepared for exams and tests, so I try to study until late, or rather, early in the morning. Because my grades were piss poor, the state stops paying for my education and now I have to tell my mother that she has to pay my tuition (not from the US, in case you're wondering, and we're struggling with our financial situation). I get suspicious of my girlfriend, I lash at her and the other person, at my family, at people around me; I come to the conclusion that I am a burden to everyone, and to society. And, honestly, no one was stating the otherwise either.
So, I laid in bed, eyes wide open staring at the ceiling, heart beating itself out of my chest. I had a glass of water by my bed, and a box full of Zopiclone (sleeping pills). Funny thing is, I wasn't trying to convince myself to do it; I find this nagging idea that I should not, and I start to obsess over it, as I'm rationalizing why I should take the lot and swallow. I'm not sure how I could stay so still and debate this with myself for so long, and just how something in my brain locked me in place as it tried to stop me from completing what I have carefully premeditated. But, all of a sudden, I find it hard to be egoistical for once in my life. I just see how everyone would crumble around me: my mother, my sister, my grandparents, people that knew me. Before this moment, I couldn't care less, but right there and then, it started to hurt. Not only because of my vivid imagination soaring and just playing scenarios in my head, but also because I felt so weak and cowardly that I did not have control over the very last decision I could make. I felt I was too cowardly to complete it. And to think, it was the perfect moment, no one would observe or know until it was too late. The last hurdle was myself.
Now, I find it amusing that I had become a hurdle to myself. Dawn broke, my plan had been foiled. It has been one year since, and right now I'm dealing with much of the same situation regarding the University. Some might find it masochistic that I decided to pursue this career path when it is obviously burying me an early grave, but I have harnessed a very intimate experience and knowledge about death. I want to believe that this experience will help me combat it better, for I shall dedicate my life to combat it through the oath I want to take. I will recite it loud on proud, with the very lips that wanted nothing more but to kiss my sworn enemy.
With days quickly passing by unnoticed, the heir found himself rather overwhelmed with the amount of stress clambered unto his shoulders. Sure, it just seemed that the day of reckoning couldn't arrive yet, but at the same time, he would realize in stupefaction that another day and night has passed without finding motivation to prepare himself for the liberation of his home province. As if it were not enough, he had knowledge of mutiny; that alone would put any nobleman on his toes, never mind all of the other issues that just seem to pool up. Even the sleeping draught couldn't help him find some sort of comfort, as his nights were still crept and stalked upon by night terrors.
It helped him, to some extent, that he took the next day to refrain from undergoing any strenuous duty that would push him into exhaustion. The talk he had with the human envoy was a pleasant welcome, since he had to keep his snout shut most of the time, and only drive his answers wherever he wanted, much like a relaxed interrogation. To that, madame Shroudmyre had to add her own story, so she could leave just as a good impression as Marcus. Aleko barely had to say anything again, as he slowly followed the woman just with his gaze. He rubbed his own nose a few times as he felt his focus slip several times, even more so when the woman's own piercing gaze seemed to just shamelessly penetrate his intimacy; clearly, she was a devious creature, willing to use dirty tricks to gain favor and personal winnings, even if it meant that she would use womanly charms on a young heir.
I am so curious, how your eyes might look like with that pretty, and venomous mouth of yours, wrapped around my- but his derivative, and taboo thoughts, are interrupted the realization that she just talked mostly non-sense.
"Yet, you've told me nothing of your allegiance. Of history, I am knowledgeable, as well as master Gwynpath, I am sure." He stated in a relaxed tone, blinking slowly before he took another sip out of his coffee.
Then came her answer, followed by her ever more penetrative gaze, which Aleko could only fall into. Be the time she retired in her seat to take her own sip, he found himself craving more of her eyes. He won his composure back as he was asked him about his own journey. Although reluctant at first to say anything about himself, being sure that they knew exactly what he was before, he could only find it fair of him to share as well. He wouldn't want to nurture a one-way relationship with his servants, he could at least try to pretend that it's two-way.
"Let me assure you that my story is as boring as it can be." He started in a rather unenthusiastic manner. "Son of a noble woman cast away by her family and husband as my visage did not resemble my, presumably, anthro heritage. My childhood and youngster years were spent at home, reading, writing and learning the knightly art of combat. Come deployment age, I've impressed the recruiters that handed me over to the Rangers. Given my noble descent and the volume of lore I've learned, I was to become an officer. Said and done, years pass, I'm tasked to offer security in civil war-torn cities, skirmish the lands of separatist nobles, the usual grunt work elite rangers do. Why not send plain knights and men-at-arms? One of us is a dozen times more dangerous; that's because of our equipment and trained unwillingness to chatter. If we're there to keep you out of the plaza so important people can meet, you'd be utterly foolish and suicidal to dare touch us."
"Then, the War of Tulips arrived. Very far away from home, I am aware, but the king most likely has some very strong relations with the merchants and traders in Eagleblade, else, he wouldn't have sent us to sweep the castle clean and clear the river for ships to sail." Aleko had long stopped drinking his coffee, his eyes peering into the undulating reflection of his canine snout. "Some of the rumors you might have heard are untrue, we're not ghosts that walk through walls, or ghouls to slit throats during one's sleep. If it were that easy, there would be no war to fight, would it be?" He chuckled sourly. "But it wasn't easy. If anything, it's the third most difficult thing I've ever had to deal with in my short life. Second place is taken by me trying to talk to this pretty merchant's daughter into a dance ball once. That's something I'd rather not recollect, hmhm."
"First place is taken by this. I'm sorely unprepared for this ample task I've been given, to rule an empire. But, as a good, obedient soldier, I will complete the objective to the best of my ability. I don't mean to discourage you, but I want to be transparent about this issue. I'm not the foreseen savior of Avalon, foretold by some prophecy written and starts, or whatever mad rambling is out there. No. Look at me." He stood up, lifting his arms slightly.
"What you see, a young mutt with a ton of power under his heel, is what you get. Take it the way it is, or leave. I don't mind either. Help me, rewards will be found for us all to reap. Leave me, I will bid farewell and good luck on your endeavors. Betray me, I'll gut you like a damn fish with a blunt knife in front of your families, personally." He allowed that warning to settle in, before he clasped his hands behind his back.
The conversation soon ended.
By the time the twentieth day of his mandate arrived, the heir could hold up on his feet quite well, although he could still feel some weights pulling his shoulders down due to fatigue. He quickly learned that the teleportation site had been completed, and the wizards have arrived to sink the province. Quite content with the news, Aleko finally showed some sort of emotion after three days of apathy, through a lopsided smirk on his canine maw.
"Thoroughly so, master Weaverstar." He replied to his court wizard.
For his own fortitude and capabilities, Aleko started to condition his body through whatever workout he could complete in his own quarters, honing his muscles and senses to peak performance. Then, he asked for a training pell, a blunt longsword and blunt dagger, so he could put his body to work while he practiced tactics in his mind. Steel whirled as he swung the waster around his frame, throwing debilitating cuts at the training pole with measured force and great speed. He properly knocked the dust out of the material, as loud thuds filled his room, as the steel edge impacted the pell. Still not satisfied, he asked for someone to help him suit up in his steel harness, to add combat realism; after all, he wouldn't be going in a doublet on the battlefield. His endurance was put to stress, as he had to cope with significant loss of mobility and some more weight unto his body; still, his strikes were true and quick, transitioning from time to time to placing one hand on the blade of the sword and train as if he were facing an armored opponent. He nurtured his body's needs, but for the most part, he secluded himself in his quarters, to focus on his condition. He couldn't allow emotion to overcome him during the fight, he had to keep himself sharp. He was so determined to stay so, that he asked some guards for a few bouts with blunt weapons, shifting from one-to-one combat, to formation techniques. By the time the fateful day arrived, he felt unsatisfied with his progress, but pleasantly sore and ripe for a fight. He could feel rage churn, just ready to lash out and take the lives of those who dared to defy him personally.
He had his arming jacket and trousers on, as well as the steel leggings, sabatons, knee protectors. He reached the war room, carrying an arming cap in one hand, while in the other he had all of his weaponry tied together by leather belts and buckles. Servants quickly arrived after with the rest of his battle harness, and started to fit them unto the heir.
"How're conditions in Zeiserberg?" Aleko calmly asked, his icy gaze shining with murderous intent. "As soon as I'm in my armor and with my armament on, I'm good to go. Any developments during the night, any reports at all?"
Whatever answers might arrive, he was more than ready to take them, since he was prepared to walk under the undiscriminating eyes of death, on a field that would be his domain. Yet, he knew that he wouldn't fall during this task, for his heart wouldn't let him. It was about time he's done something as a gesture of gratitude to the one person that made him what he is today, a woman that sacrificed everything for the love of her child.
Mom. Stay put and smart, I'm coming in and I'll kill them all. I swear, I will make them suffer thousandfold if they've laid a finger upon you.
It helped him, to some extent, that he took the next day to refrain from undergoing any strenuous duty that would push him into exhaustion. The talk he had with the human envoy was a pleasant welcome, since he had to keep his snout shut most of the time, and only drive his answers wherever he wanted, much like a relaxed interrogation. To that, madame Shroudmyre had to add her own story, so she could leave just as a good impression as Marcus. Aleko barely had to say anything again, as he slowly followed the woman just with his gaze. He rubbed his own nose a few times as he felt his focus slip several times, even more so when the woman's own piercing gaze seemed to just shamelessly penetrate his intimacy; clearly, she was a devious creature, willing to use dirty tricks to gain favor and personal winnings, even if it meant that she would use womanly charms on a young heir.
I am so curious, how your eyes might look like with that pretty, and venomous mouth of yours, wrapped around my- but his derivative, and taboo thoughts, are interrupted the realization that she just talked mostly non-sense.
"Yet, you've told me nothing of your allegiance. Of history, I am knowledgeable, as well as master Gwynpath, I am sure." He stated in a relaxed tone, blinking slowly before he took another sip out of his coffee.
Then came her answer, followed by her ever more penetrative gaze, which Aleko could only fall into. Be the time she retired in her seat to take her own sip, he found himself craving more of her eyes. He won his composure back as he was asked him about his own journey. Although reluctant at first to say anything about himself, being sure that they knew exactly what he was before, he could only find it fair of him to share as well. He wouldn't want to nurture a one-way relationship with his servants, he could at least try to pretend that it's two-way.
"Let me assure you that my story is as boring as it can be." He started in a rather unenthusiastic manner. "Son of a noble woman cast away by her family and husband as my visage did not resemble my, presumably, anthro heritage. My childhood and youngster years were spent at home, reading, writing and learning the knightly art of combat. Come deployment age, I've impressed the recruiters that handed me over to the Rangers. Given my noble descent and the volume of lore I've learned, I was to become an officer. Said and done, years pass, I'm tasked to offer security in civil war-torn cities, skirmish the lands of separatist nobles, the usual grunt work elite rangers do. Why not send plain knights and men-at-arms? One of us is a dozen times more dangerous; that's because of our equipment and trained unwillingness to chatter. If we're there to keep you out of the plaza so important people can meet, you'd be utterly foolish and suicidal to dare touch us."
"Then, the War of Tulips arrived. Very far away from home, I am aware, but the king most likely has some very strong relations with the merchants and traders in Eagleblade, else, he wouldn't have sent us to sweep the castle clean and clear the river for ships to sail." Aleko had long stopped drinking his coffee, his eyes peering into the undulating reflection of his canine snout. "Some of the rumors you might have heard are untrue, we're not ghosts that walk through walls, or ghouls to slit throats during one's sleep. If it were that easy, there would be no war to fight, would it be?" He chuckled sourly. "But it wasn't easy. If anything, it's the third most difficult thing I've ever had to deal with in my short life. Second place is taken by me trying to talk to this pretty merchant's daughter into a dance ball once. That's something I'd rather not recollect, hmhm."
"First place is taken by this. I'm sorely unprepared for this ample task I've been given, to rule an empire. But, as a good, obedient soldier, I will complete the objective to the best of my ability. I don't mean to discourage you, but I want to be transparent about this issue. I'm not the foreseen savior of Avalon, foretold by some prophecy written and starts, or whatever mad rambling is out there. No. Look at me." He stood up, lifting his arms slightly.
"What you see, a young mutt with a ton of power under his heel, is what you get. Take it the way it is, or leave. I don't mind either. Help me, rewards will be found for us all to reap. Leave me, I will bid farewell and good luck on your endeavors. Betray me, I'll gut you like a damn fish with a blunt knife in front of your families, personally." He allowed that warning to settle in, before he clasped his hands behind his back.
The conversation soon ended.
By the time the twentieth day of his mandate arrived, the heir could hold up on his feet quite well, although he could still feel some weights pulling his shoulders down due to fatigue. He quickly learned that the teleportation site had been completed, and the wizards have arrived to sink the province. Quite content with the news, Aleko finally showed some sort of emotion after three days of apathy, through a lopsided smirk on his canine maw.
"Thoroughly so, master Weaverstar." He replied to his court wizard.
For his own fortitude and capabilities, Aleko started to condition his body through whatever workout he could complete in his own quarters, honing his muscles and senses to peak performance. Then, he asked for a training pell, a blunt longsword and blunt dagger, so he could put his body to work while he practiced tactics in his mind. Steel whirled as he swung the waster around his frame, throwing debilitating cuts at the training pole with measured force and great speed. He properly knocked the dust out of the material, as loud thuds filled his room, as the steel edge impacted the pell. Still not satisfied, he asked for someone to help him suit up in his steel harness, to add combat realism; after all, he wouldn't be going in a doublet on the battlefield. His endurance was put to stress, as he had to cope with significant loss of mobility and some more weight unto his body; still, his strikes were true and quick, transitioning from time to time to placing one hand on the blade of the sword and train as if he were facing an armored opponent. He nurtured his body's needs, but for the most part, he secluded himself in his quarters, to focus on his condition. He couldn't allow emotion to overcome him during the fight, he had to keep himself sharp. He was so determined to stay so, that he asked some guards for a few bouts with blunt weapons, shifting from one-to-one combat, to formation techniques. By the time the fateful day arrived, he felt unsatisfied with his progress, but pleasantly sore and ripe for a fight. He could feel rage churn, just ready to lash out and take the lives of those who dared to defy him personally.
He had his arming jacket and trousers on, as well as the steel leggings, sabatons, knee protectors. He reached the war room, carrying an arming cap in one hand, while in the other he had all of his weaponry tied together by leather belts and buckles. Servants quickly arrived after with the rest of his battle harness, and started to fit them unto the heir.
"How're conditions in Zeiserberg?" Aleko calmly asked, his icy gaze shining with murderous intent. "As soon as I'm in my armor and with my armament on, I'm good to go. Any developments during the night, any reports at all?"
Whatever answers might arrive, he was more than ready to take them, since he was prepared to walk under the undiscriminating eyes of death, on a field that would be his domain. Yet, he knew that he wouldn't fall during this task, for his heart wouldn't let him. It was about time he's done something as a gesture of gratitude to the one person that made him what he is today, a woman that sacrificed everything for the love of her child.
Mom. Stay put and smart, I'm coming in and I'll kill them all. I swear, I will make them suffer thousandfold if they've laid a finger upon you.
Silence had fallen unto the heir's lips, as the envoys reacted in all sorts of interesting manners, from gasps, to shouts, to apparent apathy. His cold gaze was affixed unto the surface of the table, following the jagged reflections of the envoys present, as they animated and displayed various degrees of support and regret. But, Aleko's expression remained unchanged, until madame Shroudmyr pointed out a very important detail that did not cross his mind initially, if at all, since he had been too busy to reel from the mind-numbing news. He lifted his snout, his eyebrows rising while his tired cortex processed what the other hybrid meant to say.
We've a traitor. He thought, before Frosthand stated it out loudly.
He could feel a fiery dagger slowly dig itself into his bowels, which spread rage and hatred through his core. He found it unbelievable, that someone had found this sort of information and quickly sent it over to the Stainless Empire at such a short notice, in the span of a week. Every other word that followed would be the result of logical deduction, and the one conclusion that troubled him the most was the fact that it was a perfectly laid-out trap for him to fall into by acting on pure emotion, rather than rationally forging a machination to deal with the personal attack. But, how could he react logically to an attack that was meant to stir him, and have him react in one form or another? Let alone his mother being caught in the invasion, he shared memories with the folk he knew there, as well as the landscapes and the architecture of the province. And therein, Aleko found that he had an advantage, the fact immediately sparking a few ideas in his mind. The canine seemed to grow rather agitated as the envoys kept stirring and mumbling, becoming rather uneasy on his seat as he wanted to storm out into solitude and coalesce his transient thoughts into a plan. But, at the end, he felt the need to part with a few words. Unfortunately, his gesture wold turn to be rather crass, as he managed to topple the chair behind him as he pushed himself on his feet. Aleko winced at the sound and shook his head.
"I will accept master Weaverstar's incentive to closely investigate this outrageous act of mutiny. But, if any of you find a clue, a hint of sorts regarding the involvement in this betrayal, you are to report immediately." The heir dictated, while he pulled the chair from the ground and push it back in its place. "But, any form of bickering and false accusation will be punished. I want a serious investigation, and not an opportunity to boot out whomever you do not like. We're here for unity, above all. Godspeed."
But, the heir found no respite, as the human envoy made it jarringly obvious he had no implication with the treason, as he persistently confessed his sorrowful feelings towards the delicate issue. Aleko strode down towards the map room with his hands crossed to his back, his gaze washing over the floor as once again, the length of the corridor seemed to have doubled that day, as well as Gwynpath seeming to not stop blabbering. But, once they reached the entrance, the heir placed a hand upon the human's shoulder and offered it a limp tug.
"You have my thanks, master Gwynpath." Stated Aleko. "I... I need to speak to the generals and have a moment to recollect before I can think about other matters. But, consider yourself invited to a enjoy a coffee with me on the morrow."
Did I just? He questioned himself. Am I that lonely? I have just made myself vulnerable. The heir felt dread as he walked inside the map room, where he found the generals waiting for him.
"Generals." He promptly greeted them, as he made his way to his usual spot. There, he sighed and leaned against the surface with his palms. "We have a situation."
And reactions followed once he disclosed the details of the invasion. And they weren't favorable, as it would seem there was little that they could do about Zeiserberg without stirring unwanted attention, which would cut down the momentum of the counter. The province was far away too, thus reinforcements would be rather cumbersome to sail over. Every possible maneuver would put them at a major disadvantage, in such a manner that the advantages Aleko found would quickly pale. This was a deviously smart attack, that should rile him and mindlessly send his forces over to liberate the province and lose the fight against a defensive force; most likely, they counted on the Old Empire to jump at his troops and reduce the numbers before the Stainless could arrive and deliver a coup'd'grace. It seemed that choices were very slim, until, Cyrus made his appearance with a suggestion of his own.
Trying to make amends for your deception, you artifact? Aleko thought as he glanced at the wizard.
The halfling listened to it all, his teeth lightly grinding away at the new thoughts, while his fingers rubbed the bad ideas into oblivion. But, with so many eyes upon him, he couldn't focus, he couldn't have thoughts of his own. The heir took a moment to rub his eyes.
"I... the infiltrators, and forces. We-" he cleared his throat. "Allow me a moment." The halfling stormed out of the room, to head to the first latrine in his way, where he quickly dismantled himself unto his knees and retched down the stinking hole.
His entire frame arched and contorted as his innards refused to digest his breakfast, and hurled the mostly-intact meal down the hatch. By the time he could control the spasms, he found himself miserably sitting on the floor, his back resting against a wall while panting for some air. He tried to open his watered eyes, but the salt of his sweat stung him. After an attempt to clear his throat, he spat out more of the food down the hole, and calmed his breath down. Finally, he had the silence he required to plot, although the location wasn't the most appropriate. It didn't matter, patterns were forming, mechanisms clinked and clattered, as he mentally tried to outmaneuver his foes. When he could push himself up, he started to walk up and down the small chamber, in a rather erratic pattern, as his mind completely separated from its body to delve itself into strategy. Only when some worker accessed the latrine, did the Emperor wake from his meditative state and gawped at the intruder. He blinked and slithered out, offering his apologies to the man that wanted to use the chamber. It probably took him an hour or so to return, but when he did, he looked weaker still, although twice as determined.
"The fact that we can transport our troops inside the province in a matter of a week is what dismantles every bit of the Stainless's plan to crush our counterattacking forces." The heir quickly muttered as he walked back inside the room, and served himself with another cup of water to wash down the awful taste of bile.
"They counted on that I would give in to rage and dispatch troops immediately, with me spearheading the counteroffensive. They counted on the fact that it would take us at the very least three weeks to reach Zeiserberg, time in which they would have easily consolidated their defensive positions and reinforce their invasion forces; furthermore, they counted on the two provinces controlled by the Old Empire to shave off some of our numbers, as an opportunity to take revenge on Northspark. Deviously clever. And if it weren't for Master Weaverstar to cut my rage short, I would have definitely thrown myself into the fray, with little regards towards anyone's suggestions." He sighed, and swallowed dryly.
"The plan is as follows." He stretched his back. "Infiltrators are to prepare the teleportation ritual, but as I've suggested to general Planestalker, they will also attempt to sabotage the army and cut off their supplies and reinforcement lines. As such, they've enough tasks at hand, therefore, you may rescind the task of scouting for my mother." He could feel his torso squirm and send a cold chill through his hide. "As, for how the counterattack will go..." he cleared his throat, and proceeded to drink some more water.
"Firstly, I need to point out I know the province on the inside out. The Anthro lands are prone to wet weather, them being a mass of islands in a maritime temperate climate; while the province doesn't usually get hammered with bad weather too often, it produces an awful amount of muck and mud under heavy downpours. Combine that with the infiltrators cutting off supplies, it will significantly slow them down and make their stay a very unpleasant one. Since, they've been there for one week now, they wouldn't have amassed much of a force, and with another week of slow supplies and terrible weather, they will be properly weaken for us to storm over them."
"Granted, bad weather isn't a guarantee. Unless, we bring it upon them. Therefore, the first squad to make it through will be made of wizards. Their task is to stir the clouds into a constant thunderstorm and downpour, regardless of the risk of provoking floods. There's plenty of overcast and heavy clouds to shape and play with; now, this may not be quite ethical in some eyes, but is this open threat towards me and my mother made by a man with high moral standards?"
"Another point on having wizards there is that, most likely, the Stainless will have "borrowed" Anthro equipment by now; that means, lots of steel and wood. Standard troops against plate armor and high-end weaponry will not stand a chance, but if we were to assault steel with electrical bolts, and roast them inside their armor and melt their weapons with balls of fire..." he furtively glanced at Bulkwyn, feeling her gaze slitting his throat.
"... me being an elite ranger, a mage is the last thing I'd want to encounter. Or, one of my own men. As such, the second wave will comprise of Elite Rangers and Dwarven Grenadiers, with me and another general by my side. Why Rangers and Grenadiers? Zeiserberg holds no castle, or fort, it is a strictly urban and rural province with no lordly domain, and in such terrain, we're bound to fight in a lot of close-quarter situation, of not on open lands. In both cases, we need light, versatile and highly maneuverable troops, with the potential to deliver massive firepower. Grenades take out rooms and entire buildings, clear corners, corridors, streets even. Elite Rangers are used to muck and mud, and will fight from distance before storming occupied buildings with advanced weaponry to clear stragglers after the grenades have cleared most of the threats. Trenches are easy to clear with grenades, as well as with pyromancy. Open field fights can be shifted on our side with the help of the storms formed by the wizards, unleashing lightning upon the enemy. We will drive the enemy into the provinces held by the Old Empire, so that the stragglers will be finished off by them. Those who surrender? Gods be in their side, for I will not feel merciful."
"It may turn out to be a battle of attrition, as opposed the quick storm with which we took over Northspark, but we will be amply supplied by the people of Zeiserberg, especially if they will know it is me that leads the liberating force." Aleko took a moment to gulp and sit down, to rest his mind and mouth. He sighed, rubbed his jaw and grumbled.
"I know, they may have prepared for this type of counter, since they were smart enough to devise this trap, but I count on the fact that they do not expect us to arrive sooner than they would expect us. But, given our current situation, I believe they will soon learn of our trick, for I have been informed that a traitor lays in wait among us." The heir sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Master Weaverstar will handle this situation personally, no need to jump the horse. But if you sirs find a clue in regards to who is this cut-throat, you are to inform either me or him immediately."
"Now then. Three squads, one made of wizards that goes in first, the other two some time after they arrive. I will definitely join the attack. Who else wishes to join me?" He asked, while not looking at any of the generals in particular, but quite clearly avoiding Bulkwyn's presence. "And most importantly, have you better suggestions?"
We've a traitor. He thought, before Frosthand stated it out loudly.
He could feel a fiery dagger slowly dig itself into his bowels, which spread rage and hatred through his core. He found it unbelievable, that someone had found this sort of information and quickly sent it over to the Stainless Empire at such a short notice, in the span of a week. Every other word that followed would be the result of logical deduction, and the one conclusion that troubled him the most was the fact that it was a perfectly laid-out trap for him to fall into by acting on pure emotion, rather than rationally forging a machination to deal with the personal attack. But, how could he react logically to an attack that was meant to stir him, and have him react in one form or another? Let alone his mother being caught in the invasion, he shared memories with the folk he knew there, as well as the landscapes and the architecture of the province. And therein, Aleko found that he had an advantage, the fact immediately sparking a few ideas in his mind. The canine seemed to grow rather agitated as the envoys kept stirring and mumbling, becoming rather uneasy on his seat as he wanted to storm out into solitude and coalesce his transient thoughts into a plan. But, at the end, he felt the need to part with a few words. Unfortunately, his gesture wold turn to be rather crass, as he managed to topple the chair behind him as he pushed himself on his feet. Aleko winced at the sound and shook his head.
"I will accept master Weaverstar's incentive to closely investigate this outrageous act of mutiny. But, if any of you find a clue, a hint of sorts regarding the involvement in this betrayal, you are to report immediately." The heir dictated, while he pulled the chair from the ground and push it back in its place. "But, any form of bickering and false accusation will be punished. I want a serious investigation, and not an opportunity to boot out whomever you do not like. We're here for unity, above all. Godspeed."
But, the heir found no respite, as the human envoy made it jarringly obvious he had no implication with the treason, as he persistently confessed his sorrowful feelings towards the delicate issue. Aleko strode down towards the map room with his hands crossed to his back, his gaze washing over the floor as once again, the length of the corridor seemed to have doubled that day, as well as Gwynpath seeming to not stop blabbering. But, once they reached the entrance, the heir placed a hand upon the human's shoulder and offered it a limp tug.
"You have my thanks, master Gwynpath." Stated Aleko. "I... I need to speak to the generals and have a moment to recollect before I can think about other matters. But, consider yourself invited to a enjoy a coffee with me on the morrow."
Did I just? He questioned himself. Am I that lonely? I have just made myself vulnerable. The heir felt dread as he walked inside the map room, where he found the generals waiting for him.
"Generals." He promptly greeted them, as he made his way to his usual spot. There, he sighed and leaned against the surface with his palms. "We have a situation."
And reactions followed once he disclosed the details of the invasion. And they weren't favorable, as it would seem there was little that they could do about Zeiserberg without stirring unwanted attention, which would cut down the momentum of the counter. The province was far away too, thus reinforcements would be rather cumbersome to sail over. Every possible maneuver would put them at a major disadvantage, in such a manner that the advantages Aleko found would quickly pale. This was a deviously smart attack, that should rile him and mindlessly send his forces over to liberate the province and lose the fight against a defensive force; most likely, they counted on the Old Empire to jump at his troops and reduce the numbers before the Stainless could arrive and deliver a coup'd'grace. It seemed that choices were very slim, until, Cyrus made his appearance with a suggestion of his own.
Trying to make amends for your deception, you artifact? Aleko thought as he glanced at the wizard.
The halfling listened to it all, his teeth lightly grinding away at the new thoughts, while his fingers rubbed the bad ideas into oblivion. But, with so many eyes upon him, he couldn't focus, he couldn't have thoughts of his own. The heir took a moment to rub his eyes.
"I... the infiltrators, and forces. We-" he cleared his throat. "Allow me a moment." The halfling stormed out of the room, to head to the first latrine in his way, where he quickly dismantled himself unto his knees and retched down the stinking hole.
His entire frame arched and contorted as his innards refused to digest his breakfast, and hurled the mostly-intact meal down the hatch. By the time he could control the spasms, he found himself miserably sitting on the floor, his back resting against a wall while panting for some air. He tried to open his watered eyes, but the salt of his sweat stung him. After an attempt to clear his throat, he spat out more of the food down the hole, and calmed his breath down. Finally, he had the silence he required to plot, although the location wasn't the most appropriate. It didn't matter, patterns were forming, mechanisms clinked and clattered, as he mentally tried to outmaneuver his foes. When he could push himself up, he started to walk up and down the small chamber, in a rather erratic pattern, as his mind completely separated from its body to delve itself into strategy. Only when some worker accessed the latrine, did the Emperor wake from his meditative state and gawped at the intruder. He blinked and slithered out, offering his apologies to the man that wanted to use the chamber. It probably took him an hour or so to return, but when he did, he looked weaker still, although twice as determined.
"The fact that we can transport our troops inside the province in a matter of a week is what dismantles every bit of the Stainless's plan to crush our counterattacking forces." The heir quickly muttered as he walked back inside the room, and served himself with another cup of water to wash down the awful taste of bile.
"They counted on that I would give in to rage and dispatch troops immediately, with me spearheading the counteroffensive. They counted on the fact that it would take us at the very least three weeks to reach Zeiserberg, time in which they would have easily consolidated their defensive positions and reinforce their invasion forces; furthermore, they counted on the two provinces controlled by the Old Empire to shave off some of our numbers, as an opportunity to take revenge on Northspark. Deviously clever. And if it weren't for Master Weaverstar to cut my rage short, I would have definitely thrown myself into the fray, with little regards towards anyone's suggestions." He sighed, and swallowed dryly.
"The plan is as follows." He stretched his back. "Infiltrators are to prepare the teleportation ritual, but as I've suggested to general Planestalker, they will also attempt to sabotage the army and cut off their supplies and reinforcement lines. As such, they've enough tasks at hand, therefore, you may rescind the task of scouting for my mother." He could feel his torso squirm and send a cold chill through his hide. "As, for how the counterattack will go..." he cleared his throat, and proceeded to drink some more water.
"Firstly, I need to point out I know the province on the inside out. The Anthro lands are prone to wet weather, them being a mass of islands in a maritime temperate climate; while the province doesn't usually get hammered with bad weather too often, it produces an awful amount of muck and mud under heavy downpours. Combine that with the infiltrators cutting off supplies, it will significantly slow them down and make their stay a very unpleasant one. Since, they've been there for one week now, they wouldn't have amassed much of a force, and with another week of slow supplies and terrible weather, they will be properly weaken for us to storm over them."
"Granted, bad weather isn't a guarantee. Unless, we bring it upon them. Therefore, the first squad to make it through will be made of wizards. Their task is to stir the clouds into a constant thunderstorm and downpour, regardless of the risk of provoking floods. There's plenty of overcast and heavy clouds to shape and play with; now, this may not be quite ethical in some eyes, but is this open threat towards me and my mother made by a man with high moral standards?"
"Another point on having wizards there is that, most likely, the Stainless will have "borrowed" Anthro equipment by now; that means, lots of steel and wood. Standard troops against plate armor and high-end weaponry will not stand a chance, but if we were to assault steel with electrical bolts, and roast them inside their armor and melt their weapons with balls of fire..." he furtively glanced at Bulkwyn, feeling her gaze slitting his throat.
"... me being an elite ranger, a mage is the last thing I'd want to encounter. Or, one of my own men. As such, the second wave will comprise of Elite Rangers and Dwarven Grenadiers, with me and another general by my side. Why Rangers and Grenadiers? Zeiserberg holds no castle, or fort, it is a strictly urban and rural province with no lordly domain, and in such terrain, we're bound to fight in a lot of close-quarter situation, of not on open lands. In both cases, we need light, versatile and highly maneuverable troops, with the potential to deliver massive firepower. Grenades take out rooms and entire buildings, clear corners, corridors, streets even. Elite Rangers are used to muck and mud, and will fight from distance before storming occupied buildings with advanced weaponry to clear stragglers after the grenades have cleared most of the threats. Trenches are easy to clear with grenades, as well as with pyromancy. Open field fights can be shifted on our side with the help of the storms formed by the wizards, unleashing lightning upon the enemy. We will drive the enemy into the provinces held by the Old Empire, so that the stragglers will be finished off by them. Those who surrender? Gods be in their side, for I will not feel merciful."
"It may turn out to be a battle of attrition, as opposed the quick storm with which we took over Northspark, but we will be amply supplied by the people of Zeiserberg, especially if they will know it is me that leads the liberating force." Aleko took a moment to gulp and sit down, to rest his mind and mouth. He sighed, rubbed his jaw and grumbled.
"I know, they may have prepared for this type of counter, since they were smart enough to devise this trap, but I count on the fact that they do not expect us to arrive sooner than they would expect us. But, given our current situation, I believe they will soon learn of our trick, for I have been informed that a traitor lays in wait among us." The heir sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Master Weaverstar will handle this situation personally, no need to jump the horse. But if you sirs find a clue in regards to who is this cut-throat, you are to inform either me or him immediately."
"Now then. Three squads, one made of wizards that goes in first, the other two some time after they arrive. I will definitely join the attack. Who else wishes to join me?" He asked, while not looking at any of the generals in particular, but quite clearly avoiding Bulkwyn's presence. "And most importantly, have you better suggestions?"
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