Terminal

The Twelve Labours: General Discussion

In order to give time for the results of RPGC#8 to be posted, the long awaited TTL#8 will be coming Objective Midnight, Friday. Which is either today or tomorrow, depending on where you are.

A Gilded Throne- The Shadow Looms (Recruiting)

Tiny nitpick, but it'd be lovely if everyone could spell Phoenix correctly. I’m not sure how the spelling was overlooked, but remember we do go by advanced standards here. No insult meant, but it would be nice to be able to read things proper.

@Gowi

The Phoneix King offers reasonable service rates and unlimited data along with family packages though!

A Gilded Throne- The Shadow Looms (Recruiting)

@Celeste, as well as anyone else who may be interested.

A brief explanation on the precise nature and value of Ammacre Pearls.

Ammacre is an impossible color, a shade of opalescent purple that is darker than black, named and witnessed only in the form of eponymous Ammacre Pearls.

Ammacre Pearls are secreted only be a specific species of mollusk in warm waters, and are tremendously rare. Their rarity is due not to the number of the mollusk species in the seas (though they are not common), but simply from the fact that they very rarely secrete nacre in response to the plantation of irritants in their muscle, as it appears to be a largely vestigial physiological response.

For this reason, there are very few Ammacre Pearl farms. The only three widely known to exist are all in the Kawachian Isles. One is owned directly and wholly by the Imperial Throne, while the other two are both owned by House Chalarensis.

Appraisers and merchants throughout Ethica estimate that no more than twelve Ammacre Pearls are harvested each year, ensuring their nearly priceless market value. They feature most prominently in certain sets of royal regalia, and otherwise in some of the most hideously expensive jewelry ever conceived of by man.

@Celeste, in regards to the painter, I leave their identity and personage, as well as their written experience, in your hands.

A Gilded Throne- The Shadow Looms (Recruiting)

The Last Day of Zellra in the Year 1200 A.U.
The Grand Duchy of the Kawachian Islands
The Island of Verbera
Indignor, Capital of the Grand Duchy
Second Terrace of the Second Keep

Indignor was far from the least pleasant city in the isles of Kawachia, but unlike many of the worst it managed to be an awful place to live without anybody even having to try. Over the centuries, the fortress of a city had endured more than thirty sieges - all more than six-hundred years in the past. House Chalarensis had a long memory though, nursing resentment and grudge alike though nobody alive lived to recount any tales of slight against the House first-hand. The whole of the city had been obsessively torn down, rebuilt, and slowly extended in every direction so that it encroached through the fields to the East, sank deep into the Earth and even beneath the waters of the bay, and rose to stab at the heavens, incorporating increasingly arcane and esoteric structures in accordance with the most modern theories of siegecraft. The whole brimmed with choke-points, claustrophobic and narrow halls, abrupt ledges with crenelations rising in the middle of passageways, and gaping barred murder holes in the ceilings and floors - which only accounted for the interior. One needed to be both surefooted and cautious with their footing while moving from place to place, which was intended by design.

A recent addition to the design of the city had been to add series of layered terraces with towers for the purposes of securing aerial bladders, and it was upon one of these towers a courier waited with some apprehension as one of the massive sacs was slowly towed downwards by its guideline. Its long, finger-like basket descended by increments to meet the railed wooden causeway extending from the lip of the tower. The two pilots, dressed in lightweight jack cuirass moved to adjust the rigging for the rod-mounted sail in order to bring it down while two more men waiting at the gangplank secured the vessel to cast-iron cleats. As they worked, Grand Duke Ormoneric Tribal, Head of House Chalarensis, stepped onto the causeway and approached.

The Lord of the Kawachian Islands had a body like a saber, with angular features and a sharp nose atop a razor-trim body. Though House Chalarensis historically originated from mainland Ignis, his complexion was dark due to thorough interbreeding with the native populace of the islands. Further evidence of this was seen in his dark hair, which was worn straight and long with the end tied. He wore similar leather armor to the pilots, and though usually armed with a heavy cavalry saber he wore only an ornate dirk at the back of his belt, as every ounce of weight counted when sailing through the skies. Nearly his fifty-third year, the lord had the look of a man half his age with long cords of muscle running along his arms, and a temper which kept an energy normally reserved for boundless youths only barely in check. He now directed this temper at the courier as he neared.

"Explain." One word spoken in a seething and deep voice, like the crackle of a cooling lava flow. One did not recall an air bladder that had just been released and was mid-transit without good reason, and not without earth-shaking revelation if its passenger happened to be one of the most powerful men in Ethica.

"My lord." The courier intoned, their voice dappled with faint nervousness but otherwise remarkably composed. "This letter was received by way of the Imperial Aerial League, delivered directly to the ducal courier boat with instructions to see it to you with greatest haste and utmost urgency." The courier knelt, retrieving the sealed envelop from his pouch and presenting it with both hands. The unopened seal of House Valarien adorned it, with Ormoneric's name inscribed beneath.

A tense pause filled the air.

"We have no courier boat stationed at the capital." Ormoneric said finally, his eyes narrowed as his mouth began to twist into a sneer.

The Grand Duchy maintained courier boats at many foreign cities, but had not done so with the capital for some time. Most important and vital documents came to Indignor by way of other ports and the decision had been made largely as a gesture of scorn to the Imperial Throne. Most messages from the royal administration had to make its way by Impeerial carrack to some other port in the isles, where the port authorities could be counted on to keep them sequestered in the middle of the harbor for some time before permitting entry if not offered a sizable bribe. Further delays would come as the messages were then shipped (often needlessly) back and forth between officers of the Kawachian navy and army respectively to evaluate its contents and ensure it was neither a forgery nor containing of any provocative content before finally being sent where it was needed. Along the way, if any excuse at all was found to send the message back, it usually was - with a fine, no less. The entire affair was arranged wholly by the heads of House Chalarensis, and everyone in the Imperial court knew it.

"My lord." The courier replied, looking up from the ground just enough to be clearly heard. "The captain of the vessel does state that he was impelled under the authority of both the Lord Regent and the Voice of the Emperor to deliver the message, I am afraid it was decreed a courier boat on the spot by Imperial Mandate."

A second pause transpired, briefer than the first. Grand Duke Ormoneric reached out and took the letter, eyes faintly raised, tearing the parchment above the seal loose and handing the envelope back the the courier. He spent several moments in silence reading, his expression stilling into calm. He finally folded the letter and looked down at the courier.

"I must immediately tend to this." He stated calmly. "Inform the pilots of my need to depart, our flight is now postponed. Then return to the captain and congratulate him for his ship's new honorable status, then inform him he shall receive new deployment orders. That is all."

"My lord." The courier said as he rose, keeping his bewilderment from showing.

The courier had not frequently delivered messages to the Grand Duke personally, but any display short of irritation was unusual for the ruler. Now he appeared almost serene, despite having an apparent matter of Imperial business that required his immediate attention. It was common knowledge across most of Ethica that nearly all of House Chalarensis despised the Imperial Throne. Tamping down on his confusion, he moved to fulfill his lord's instructions.

Grand Duke Ormoneric left the tower and walked down the spiral staircase of the terrace. At the bottom, he instructed one of the guards on duty to not permit any departures by house members, and to direct them all to the grand hall of the keep. He sent another to pass on the order to the guards of the remaining terraces, and a third to relay the second instruction to a court envoy.

"My lord, though it be not my place, I must ask whether you are feeling whole. You look rather out of sorts." The last guard said, some wariness in his countenance as he processed the tone of the Grand Duke's orders. He had sounded mildly enthused.

"You are pardoned for your concern. I am well." Ormoneric replied. "Get someone else to guard the stairs with you until your fellows return."

He continued on through the labyrinthine halls and passages of the outer citadel, finally arriving at the grand hall nearly ten minutes after having left the terrace. Built less to impress foreign envoys - the mere sight of the city itself was usually sufficient for that purpose - and more to simply house the large number of house members who could be expected to sit in for a meal every day, the grand hall held twelve great, long tables carved from volcanic bedrock within that seated sixty people each, eleven side-to-side in the midst of the hall with the twelfth laid out at the front before all of them. Their tops were laid of ground and smoothed obsidian, and the candlesticks upon them, though made simply of cast-iron, possessed ruby and turquoise gems studded with pearl arranged in embossment representing the crest of house Chalarensis. Four massive hearths occupied the walls to the rear and sides of the great room, while a fifth, massive aperture near the rear, large enough to host a bonfire loomed over the setting. Hanging from the ceiling, several cast-iron hangers mounted circular arrays of spears tilted down, great candles of sulfur adhered to their hafts and burning with deep blue flames. The candles used below were specially rendered wax from the mainland, designed to mask the stench of brimstone wafting down from above.

It was near lunch, and so the hall was already filled with a fair number of other house members. Nobody moved to rise from their seats or otherwise halt their conversations, barely glancing at the lord of the isles, and indeed no herald even announced his entrance. House Chalarensis had never claimed to rule by divine right, nor did they maintain that their lineage was inherently noble - the house ruled using steel and force. Ormoneric's extended family would do as he commanded and submit to his authority, but nobody was pretentious or deluded enough to demand that they openly respect him - least of all Ormoneric himself. Upon the decks of a carrack or in a field tent things might be different with strictly and rigidly enforced terms of military formality. Here in the family halls of the house though, the rules were lax.

Grand Duke Ormoneric thus headed over to one of the servants standing by at the foot of one of the twelve long tables of the hall and quietly issued an order to have everyone informed that he would be making an address. He headed to the head of the hall where the twelfth table was and waited as servants began rushing between chattering groups of his kin, who began to turn and look towards him expectantly as he stood in his place at the center of the long-table. Once the hall had quieted and he was sure he had their attention, he began to speak - a loud, bellowed proclamation that carried through the length of the interior.

"Brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, and all others of those amongst my kin - just mere moments prior, I received this letter," He held the letter from the Imperial administration aloft, the emblem of House Valarien plain to see. "From the capital of the heartlands. Today is a day of great and momentous celebration, and with the setting of the sun we shall all dine and feast as one, and make merry the likes this hall has never seen for decades!"

Anyone who had not been paying attention before was doing so now. Many were merely curious as to what sort of Imperial news could possibly be worth celebrating about. A few though, particularly the eldest amongst those gathered in the hall, had lived long enough to have witnessed this same kind of announcement before and were already grinning in anticipation, their eyes gleaming with fervor.

"For this day alone, you may abandon your grudges and set aside your rivalries! Turn! Turn and embrace your brothers and your sisters, weep freely and dance without perturbation! In this moment our House knows absolution!" He slammed the letter in his hand down on the table and shouted his final cry at the top of his voice.

"The Phoenix King Taramyth Valarien is DEAD, and Chalarensis smiles in his grave!"

Every individual in the hall, normally unable to wholly agree with each other on nearly anything, all as one, cheered. Dust shook free from the rafters, and guards from outside the hall rushed in to combat the Vilespawn dragon that had surely just burst through the wall.

@Celeste
Later that Night
The Private Rooms of Diende Tribal
With the sounds of merriment and feasting audible to everyone in the citadel, nearly everyone save the servants who had to suddenly scramble to prepare and serve the largest feast in years was enjoying themselves. One of the few who was not sat now, writing a letter.

Sitting before the parchment, inkwell and quill prepared but unused, Diende Tribal nursed the loosened line of his lower jaw slightly for comfort in the near darkness of his room, with his wooden teeth removed and secured in the lower drawer of his bedside table. From the moment he had learned of it, through the rest of the day and up until that very moment, he had felt nothing.

He supposed he was glad the emperor was dead, in an abstract fashion. The entire affair seemed empty by his reckoning. Pointless. A new emperor would soon be elected, after all, which would mean a new round of laws and legislation that would be decreed, with House Chalarensis to serve as the punching bag for decades of mutual animosity with the houses of the mainland.

And he himself, Diende, would have to vote for the very same person who would be doing the punching. One way or another.

Finally having determined how he would go about writing what he needed to, he set his free hand down beside the parchment and began to write.

Written by the hand of Dienda Argider, son of Iian Argider and Ravana of no line, Former Marshal of the Ducal Forces of Kawachia (retired).

Intended for the eyes of Gerard Soleander, son of Sebestian and Esther Soleander, and Justiciar of Sunstone.

In not undue spirit do I write to you in the wake of the death of Pheonix King Taramyth Valarien to inform you of my previously planned visit to the Sonveld, and specifically the city of Insimu Lezinkanyezi for the purposes of house business.

However, with the sudden approach of the Imperial Summit of the Arch Electors, I find myself unable to go forward with my journey. As the senior-most member of House Chalarensis, I have been selected by my second-great-nephew and Lord, Grand Duke Ormoneric Tribal, to represent him at the summit in the capacity of Arch Elector.

I must now pray for your pardon for my intrusion upon your own affairs; the business I planned to attend to is of vital urgency and cannot wait for the conclusion of the summit. I must implore you to append an additional traveler to the party of your own Arch Elector Felix II Soleander, Protector of the Sonveld and Pratrician of the Sunstone, or else that of his representative, to accompany them to the Imperial Summit at the capitol city of Lalrial.

The name of the individual eludes me at the time of this writing, but I have seen fit to include a flyer describing the details of their business and affairs, along with the address of their estate in Insimu Lezinkanyezi.

I know that in reading, this request may appear somewhat frivolous. However, the matter at hand is both time-sensitive and of some urgency. In order to assure you of my seriousness, this letter has been disclosed with a box containing half of our commissioned partner's pay for services to be rendered, in the form of six Ammacre Pearls, with an additional six to be delievered upon completion of their assigned task. I trust that this measure is sufficient to convince you of the seriousness with which I make this request. The individual in question, by the time of your reading this, should likewise have received their own message informing them of this development and shall have made arrangements to prepare for the journey should you come in touch with them. If what I ask should prove possible and is fulfilled, I would be personally grateful and would be inclined to pay heed of your own concerns in the future, whatever they may be, such that I might be able to alleviate them.

With hopeful anticipation of our eventual meeting should you attend the summit, I hope that this letter finds you, your house, and your Arch Elector in good health.

A Letter Sealed with the Crest of House Chalarensis, Addressed to Gerard Soleander

This slip of parchment bears the details of business of a famous painter whom you know of by reputation as one of the most accomplished in the Sonveld. Several of their paintings, largely in the form of portraits, hang in the halls of the Sunstone. The flyer lists the address of their estate in Insimu Lezinkanyezi, as promised.

A small flyer of parchment

Opening the box, you see six spheres of impossible color nestled in a cloth of crimson silk. They hurt your eyes to look at directly - they are definitely Ammacre.

A box of black lacquered wood

The 12th of Gerna, 1200 A.U.
Outside the North Gate of Lalrial

From her new vantage point, the young woman caught her breath at the sight. Near the top of the hill she, at last, saw her destination in full view. The gleaming white City of Towers, it’s ivory spires seeming to jut into the very heavens.

Lanariel Valarien

Then, out of the side of her vision, a large, bloated lump of ugly dark brown floated directly in front of her scenic view. An air bladder - one of the bizarre results of the gas harvesting they did in the Kawachian isles - was drifting closer to the ground, clearly about to land. Small streams of sand dribbled down from sacks hanging off the sides of the finger-shaped basket suspended from the bladder itself, literally dirtying her view. A flag blew frenetically in the wind, perched atop the crown of the flying sac, displaying the banner of the Grand Duchy of House Chalarensis.

Aboard the bladder, Fame Mountebank slapped the cringing Harper Cragmore across the top of his head as the fifteen year-old prince cowered below the lip of the passenger basket. "Don't touch that rope you half-wit! You just released the ballast in the sack! You just wasted that much more helium!"

Fame was a pilot of the Kawachian Ducal Aerial League, adorned in their iconic jack cuirass and long-leather cap, along with a light saber secured across his left hip. As one of the only two-hundred Kawachian pilots in the world, he was the closest thing House Chalarensis had to a knight though he bore no title and was not of noble descent. He was nonetheless thoroughly educated in history, geography, politics, mathematics, negotiation, court etiquette, and naval protocol, and was trusted to act as an envoy for House Chalarensis much in the same capacity a knight would be expected to.

"You are the one who told him to release the bladder." A voice like wind in the hills stated, airily and reproachful. "As if he would even know how to do that, when he has been cowering on the floor the whole trip."

Sarapis Tribal, governor of the island of Acantha, was a young women in her early twenties with a tall face and thin cheekbones. She wore a damp blue, full-length robe in the Kawachian style of a kaftan, drawn together snugly across her chest but parting down from the waist over a pair of dark trousers. Her hair was dark and straight like that of most of Kawachian ethnicity, with an additional amount tied into a braid and worn over the back. Across her left hip she wore a ceremonial heavy cavalry saber indicative of her office, while an ornate dirk with a pearl-inlaid handle was strapped across her left arm. Despite the robe, the snugness of its top and its immediate departure from her body below the waist served to emphasize certain curves in a number of places.

"The Imperial depot will be topping us up in any case. It is their loss." Diende interjected.

In the light of day, Diende Tribal's wizened features were leathery and streaked with lines. His hair was shock white from age, while his left eye was missing and occupied by a glass with a pearl iris. His teeth at first looked as though they were filthy and covered in grime, until one realized that they were wooden dentures. He too wore a kaftan, though it was a deep carmine in color and was adorned with several marks of military merit. He too bore a saber, though it has a pronounced, rounded tip upon its sheath, and he used it as a makeshift cane.

After several minutes of Rame adjusting the rigging for the bladder, with some assistance from Sarapis, the large basket touched down on a large, spacious landing field specifically designated for the purpose by the Imperial Aerial League. By Imperial decree, House Chalarensis had been forced to supply several balloons for use by the Imperial Throne, as well as other houses, and so designated landing zones were not uncommon in proximity to larger cities - though they tended to possess varying degrees of security. House Chalarensis and the Imperial Guard both took the matter rather seriously, rightly recognizing the air bladders as a strategic asset. The large helium depots that accompanied these landing zones, usually in the form of refurbished and repurposed barns, also doubled as small milita barracks and watchtowers.

Rame and Sarapis jumped down to the ground from the lip of the bladder's basket, assisting both the frailer Diende and the still catatonic Harper down as a stern-looking Imperial Captain approached them.

"None of you are Grand Duke Ormoneric." He said in an accusatory tone, his face set in a disapproving expression. "You peasants had best have your papers in order. I don't care if you're actually from House Chalarensis, I will throw you into the sea if you are not supposed to be here."

"You threaten a pilot of the Kawachian Ducal Aerial League at your peril, Captain." Rame said venomously. "If you touch either of my masters, I will be forced to cut you down."

"It appears," Diende interjected, stepping forward slightly, shifting his cane accordingly as he reached into his robe. "That there has been a delay in communications. A letter was sent ahead from our ship several hours ago, but apparently it has not arrived yet. I possess here," he drew a slip of parchment, with a corner-seal stamped with the crests of both House Valarien and House Chalarenis. "A receipt of my status as representative for Grand Duke Ormoneric in the capacity of Arch Elector. I am expected at the Estate of Grevis Valarien, along with my guests."

The captain took the parchment and examined its contents in a perfunctory manner, rolling it back up before returning it. "Can't say I'm not pleased by this. Means I don't have to rattle off that obscene list of titles that Duke of yours has."

"Grand Duke." Diende corrected gently. "Are we free to go, captain?" The man simply waved them on errantly in reply, turning and heading back towards the depot, from which a team of laborers had emerged to handle the now grounded bladder.

Arriving by carriage at the estate, Diende, Sarapis, Rame, and Harper were escorted to the portico by the purple-clad janitor where a servant-herald then announced their presence - with one small hiccup.

"Now announcing the arrival of Grand Duke Ormoneric Tribal, Lord Steward and Khagan of the Kawachian Islands, Malefactor Advocate to the Pheonix King of Ethica, Despot of the Island of-" Another servant rushed up and interrupted them, whispering urgently in his ear as Diende, at the head of the party, looked straight on and pretended that nothing had happened. With a short cough, the herald started over.

"...Now announcing the arrival of Diende Argider, former Marshal of the Ducal Forces of Kawachia, Sarapis Tribal, Governor of the island of Acantha, and Rame Mountebank, Pilot of the Kawachian Ducal Aerial League." He finished.

The party of four stood in place. Sarapis and Rame had the grace to continue looking straight ahead, permitting Diende to be the one to glance askew - with his glass eye no less - at the herald and then to gesture faintly with his head towards the poor Harper Cragmore, fidgeting in place and tugging on his tunic.

"...And Prince Harper Cragmore, sixth in line for the throne of the Erayis Highland." The herald said, sounding apologetic. Satisfied, the party of four finally stepped forward and drifted their separate ways.

Fame headed directly for the selection of cheeses, examining them intently, while Sarapis folded her hands behind her back and intently stared at the selection of wines.

Diende locked both eyes, glass and live, directly with Alliana. Methodically, slowly, he advanced, setting his sheathed saber forward rhythmically as support.

"I do believe this is the first time in twelve hundred years that House Chalarensis has managed to arrive on time." He remarked casually. "On that note, I must apologize on behalf of my second-great-nephew and Lord, Grand Duke Ormoneric, for not being able to attend. I am afraid he is currently preoccupied with vital matters from which his attention cannot be spared, especially for an affair as trifling and spurious as this one."

He gave Alliana a wide grin, allowing her a good view of his dentures while he allowed her to process the verbal slap.

"I must further apologize for myself. I am old, and prone to rambling. If I should utter heresy or untoward commentary, please do excuse the ravings of an old man, for I do not have long in this world." His smile then transformed, snapping from a wide grin to a stern, thin line.

"So. It should be painfully obvious even to the hired help in here that House Chalarensis will either abstain or elect for you yourself. Jakinius is too weak," He thumped the ground with the end of his saber's sheath for emphasis. "...and everyone knows that House Chalarensis could never be sensible enough to move beyond its petty grudges and vote for a man married to Duchess Victoria Gracieux of the Sun Isles." His lips quirked into the faintest of smirks.

"As a raving old madman though, I will confide in you - and everyone else within the easy listening distance of the foyer - that for the purpose of political expediency, House Chalarensis is prepared to resolve that particularly senseless instance of gainsmanship. Neither the lovely Duchess, nor any of her line for that matter, have done anything of note to offend Kawachia. Only their incidental intersection with House Dustin, in very recent times I might add, has brought our disdain her way. I say that is a pitiful reason to sour relations with one of our most frequent and respected trade partners, and Ralltene Vallarien will be a very profitable choice of Pheonix King for House Chalarensis."

Diende let out a gentle chuckle, and then set his face sternly again. "I say this to you. As Arch Elector, I will vote for Ralltene Valarien, if the electors should reach a tipping point in choice between him and either you or Jakinius. Unless you make me a sufficient offer, now, right this moment. Not later. If you make an excuse and walk away to attend to something else, that will be all. If you want to be elected by House Chalarensis, I shall only give you this one moment to sway me."

Far more than Diende's blatant disrespect - he had not even addressed her by name! - far more than his utter lack of discretion and subtlety, the worst quality of his speech was its volume. The man had clearly made sure that everyone in the room - other guests and otherwise - could hear what he was saying. Her answer to his demand would shape the entire rest of the summit and how they treated her - it would be important for her to act in a way that proved she could not be intimidated.

Still respectively musing over at their tables, Sarapis and Rame were both smiling faintly.

Lalrial Harbor

While Diende Tribal was in the process of loudly coercing Alliana in front of everybody, a rowboat originating from the carrack Mundus Malleum, flying Kawachian colors, pulled in to dock. Waiting for its arrival was a very expectant and pleased port inspector.

This very port inspector had, on numerous occasions, been required by the Imperial Port Authority to visit the Kawachian Islands - and be subsequently harassed, waylaid, and sequestered by Kawachian officials and soldiers for his trouble. Now though, the shoe was on the other foot.

At least, it was until the first passenger on the rowboat rose and stepped onto the pier. The first thing the inspector noticed was that the man's right hand was missing, and that an actual flanged mace had been strapped onto the stump. The second thing he noticed was that the man was rather wide and tall. The third thing he noticed was the man's excellent and robust shouting voice. At some point during the tirade, his carefully kept tricorn hat fell from his head to be blown, as if by a gale-force wind, into the waters of the inlet.

"...I...I'm sorry?" He finally tried, once silence fell, finally recovering sufficiently to take a further look at the man. He was dressed in some kind of robe, the kind normally worn by the noble Kawachians - except they had no nobles outside House Chalarensis. His complexion was lighter than one expected of their kind, and his hair was closely shaved. The man's eyes were small, relative to the size of his head, but contained an inner gleam that made them all the more striking for their small size. The same gleam and distinctive facial features akin to that of a wall crenelation drew attention away from the modest collection of military merits adorning the breast of his robe. None of them were of any Naval orders that the inspector recognized, so he supposed he was part of one of Kawachia's armies.

"I...I mean," He recovered further, reminding himself that he had the entire port authority backing him up, even if the lunatic had a mace for a hand. "Sir, I will have your name, and know that I will have you fined for harassment of an Imperial Port Inspector!"

The man's nostrils flared while his eyes bulged, until one of the other men who had rowed to the pier with him grunted pointedly. Opening his mouth and visibly grinding his teeth, he looked down, straight into the inspector's eyes, and answered.

"My name is Mottay Vagost, Brigadier General of the Kawachian First Ducal Army. I am here on official House business, and all fines and other charges for myself and my ship are to be payed on the account of Diende Argider, acting in the capacity of Arch Elector!"

The inspector was for a loss for words. After a brief moment he decided on "I see." He bent his head and wrote down the General's name in his ledger in order to stall for time. After slowly and carefully rewriting the name twice, he looked back up.

"I am afraid on account of the abrupt and unscheduled nature of your ship's arrival, I will have to ask a few more questions. For one thing, what is the precise nature of the business you are here for?"

Mottay firmly crossed his arms, his eyes and lips twisting into a sneer as he hissed an answer.

"I'm here to get my mace back from those Cragmore scags!"

And So Daedalus Laughed

More specifically I am playing a High-Willpower character who, through a diet consisting mostly of Fafo has nonetheless been driven to the brink of becoming Lost. I do not mind if you have something similar planned, but if you wanted to go for something different feel free.

A Gilded Throne- The Shadow Looms (Recruiting)

Working on a post. Expect it up either late tonight or sometime tomorrow.

Things of note,

@Celeste, one of my character will be sending a letter to Gerard Soleander in a flashback, approximately two weeks ago. It will have some information in it pertinent to the Imperial Summit, so look forward to that.

A Gilded Throne- The Shadow Looms (Recruiting)

House Chalarensis

'The wind makes leaves of mountains.'

The Grand Duchy of the Kawachian Islands

Map

Notable House Members

Head of House:
Grand Duke Ormoneric Tribal, Lord Steward and Khagan of the Kawachian Islands, Malefactor Advocate to the Emperor of Ethica, Despot of the Island of Verbera, Khan of the Island of Acantha, Anax of the Island of Balatro, Emir of the Island of Iecur, Jagir of the Island of Cetus, Supreme Sentinel of the Southern Sea, True Ruler of the Province of Ignis, the Province of Dreiben, and the Sun Isles by Right of Conquest and Merit, Grand Admiral of the Kawachian Navy, Fleet Admiral of the First Fleet of Kawachia, and Grand Marshal of the Ducal Forces of Kawachia. (M, 52, Single)

Governors:

• Sarapis Tribal, Governor of Acantha (F, 24, Single)
• Ephidel Tribal, Governor of Iecur (M, 31, Single)
• Amatus Phano, Governor of Cetus (M, 38, Married)
• Knossos Argider, Governor of Balatro (M, 34, Single)

Acclaimed Personalities:

• Dienda Argider, Retired (M, ???, Widowed)
• Kokuran Phano, Rear Admiral Eighth Fleet (M, 28, Single)
• Haughray Vagost, Major General Acantha First Ducal Army (F, 75, Single)
• Aechalchleon Tribal, Vice Admiral Second Fleet (M, 27, Married)
• Mottay 'Hammerhand' Vagost, Brigadier General Iecur First Ducal Army (M, 40, Divorced)
• Trianne Argider, Admiral First Fleet (F, 46, Divorced)

House Specialty: Siegecraft
House Chalarensis has a longstanding history of being highly effective at waging sieges. From the ancient times when their founder Chalarensis sacked the city of Prachtvoll, to their successful repulsion of the Veletian Usurper Andrea's siege of the capital city of Indignor, any learned scholar of history in Ethica can be relied upon to cite numerous sieges waged by House Chalarensis when asked to recount pivotal battles of the reunification.

House Ancestral Artifact

The Derecho Blade

The Derecho Blade is a heavy cavalry saber, reputedly the same one emblazoned upon the crest of House Chalarensis and purportedly used by the founder himself in the unification wars. Originally owned by an unknown Duke within the now-province of Ignis, it was seized by the House Founder as a prize of conquest prior to their subjugation by Empress Lalaifia. Despite the historically turbulent affairs of House Chalarensis, the artifact has by all accounts been kept more or less secure in a small number of vaults for most of its documented existence, with few recorded instances of use by house members. For a time in the late thirteenth century some members of the house brought it with them as an official armament to tournaments, though due to various circumstances it never saw use. This ended when Mottay 'Hammerhand' Vagost nearly lost the blade as a bet in a children's street game, leading to its permanent storage in a high-security vault of the Ducal fortress of Indignor.

The actual power of the blade, if any, remains a mystery to modern scholars. Ancient accounts from the wars of unification vary wildly in regards to its potency. Some stories state that the blade was slow-forged in arcane fire, necessary to render steel strong enough to withstand blows from its wielder (whether this was the original Chalarensis or the nameless Duke is unknown), purportedly strong enough to shatter any normal weapon they used. Other tales state that when used, the wind always turned to be at the back of the wielder. Still others say that the weapon was capable of conjuring actual derechos whenever thrust straight up towards the Heavens.

There is little actual evidence to support any particular claim. No living member of House Chalarensis claims to have wielded the blade or to know what powers, if any, that it might possess.

The Kawachian People

Racial Appearance:
The peoples of the Kawachian Islands have been indigenous to those lands since before the wars of unification, being considered ethnically distinct from any of the peoples of mainland Ethica. They are generally dark-skinned, with hair that grows to increase a greater amount of surface area across the top of the brow, and with all hair amongst their population being black in coloration and growing straight, being neither wavy, curly, or scraggly by circumstance of birth. Any additional differences from the other races of men present on the mainland or otherwise are considered to be negligible. Interbreeding is possible and commonplace, they possess an average degree of magical potency and natural talent relative to other species of men, their lifespans are equivalent, and their physical capabilities are equal in all regards.

Cultural Traits:
Prior to their subjugation by House Chalarensis in the wake of the unification wars, the native Kawachian people possessed a modest culture wherein they worshipped a pantheon of foreign gods distinct from those worshiped upon Ethica. The extent and depth of their culture was limited by their oral tradition and (relatively) low numbers, complicated by frequent skirmishes with local Mongerl populations and cicada-timed plagues. Upon their subjugation, any cultural identity they may have existed was effectively obliterated as a side effect. The modern Kawachian natives worship a small number of their original gods, although these are obscure and vary by island. Little to no documentation of their religion exists due to widespread apathy by the administration of House Chalarensis. Kawachian culture otherwise varies wildly depending upon island and the relevant geopolitical climate, the best-known being the decadent and hedonistic populace of Northern Verbera, particularly within the city of Lautitia but extending out as far as the small village of Venatio. Little official documentation of other forms of modern native culture exists due to the xenophobic and paranoid tendencies of House Chalarensis.

Capital: Indignor (Verbera) (Pop: 12,000).
Major Settlements:

• Lautitia (Verbera)
• Iugulum (Verbera)
• Sudor (Cetus)
• Kayo Lighthouse (Balatro)
• Claustra (Iecur)
• Meridies (Acantha)

Population: 1.2 Million _{Excluding Mongerls}

History

The history of House Chalarensis begins not on the islands of Kawachia, but on the coast of Southeastern Ignis, several decades prior to the unification wars. The house founder Chalarensis (whose last name is lost to the annuals of history) was born to an obscure Baron, who inherited his holdings at a young age due to war. Responding in kind, Chalarensis apparently conquered several surrounding lands and regions, eventually defeating an unknown Duke in battle and thereafter proclaiming for himself the title of Archduke by right of conquest and merit, planning to eventually assimilate additional surrounding lands to become king.

Such plans never came to pass, as Empress Lalaifia then entered Ignis and was enthusiastically joined by the neighboring kingdom of House Duvard. Due either to a mishap of communications or a poor initial evaluation by the Archduke, the Empress swept through Chalarensis' lands, sweeping aside the militias therein and laying siege to his ancestral hold whereupon he was forced to surrender. Most of his lands were remitted to House Duvard as part of the unification of Ignis, though at the time Archduke Chalarensis was permitted to retain possession of his ancestral palace.

Despite the disastrous initial conflict, Chalarensis nonetheless became a vital and valued vassal of the Empress. His natural talent and skill for siegecraft and as a tactician led him to victory many times in battles across Ethica. The Archduke became fairly popular and renown for his effectiveness, and official plans and negotiations were made to absorb his bloodline into House Duvard through marriage in order to retain him as an adviser in a direct capacity to the empress.

These arrangements changed near the end of the wars, during the unification of Dreiben. At first Chalarensis was merely called upon to combat the horselords and their armies, as he was amongst other things an accomplished leader of massed cavalry charges and was noteworthy for leading a number of such charges personally. However, after a failed initial siege of the capital city of Prachtvoll by another House Chalarensis was instructed to siege and capture the city in their place, and also to capture several members of the Practen nobility alive. For reasons that are unclear, Chalarensis allegedly either instructed or permitted his soldiers to defile and murder every noble prisoner captured in and out of battle directly in contravention to the direct orders of Empress Lalaifia, resulting in the nearly complete purge of the Practen bloodline during the sack of Prachtvoll as a result.

Due to the Archduke's popularity and his service to the Imperial Throne, the Empress waived execution in favor of stripping Chalarensis of his title, relegating him to the status of Grand Duke within the Imperial Hierarchy. He was then awarded the Kawachian Islands for his service during the unification wars, and promptly but quietly exiled there along with the entirety of his house and general staff.

At the time, the Kawachian Islands were largely unexplored, home to a threadbare population of natives plagued with disease and frequent skirmishes with Vilespawn Mongerls who infested the islands. Initial surveyors had simply mapped the ridges of each island, named them, and then left, and as such the islands were never truly unified. The official record of the Imperial Throne indicates that there was insufficient cause to do so given the lack of a preexisting, widespread populace to unite. It is understood by most historians that the Empress Lalaifia intended Chalarensis' exile to the islands to effectively be a death sentence intended to extinguish his line and house.

Such did not come to pass. Having been exiled with the rest of his house and general staff, Chalarensis was able to organize several small villages of natives, gathering their numbers together at his landing site while erecting barricades and palisades to fend off the Mongerl hordes. Using medicinals brought from the mainland in conjunction with practical applications of hygiene control (including the use of latrines, quarantine huts, and sterilization via boiled water), he was able to stabilize their numbers and began forming them into a trained militia. Eventually forming a small military force, Chalarensis then began a decades-long campaign to conquer the five islands.

According to notes penned by Grand Duke Chalarensis himself around the time, he felt a pressing need to populate the islands as quickly as possible so that he might build a sufficient military power to ensure his line would eventually reenter the graces of the Imperial Throne. He knowingly implemented policies depriving women of rights, confining them to harems and brothels with the intention of breeding a new generation of soldiers and laborers necessary for his vision of a unified Kawachia. While these laws are no longer in effect in the modern day, their influence can still be felt culturally as most women are treated as property. The Grand Duke also unintentionally laid the groundwork for future policies by his descendants and their totalitarian governance of the islands through extensive writings on his own personal grievances and resentment for his exile, many of his documents remaining preserved and being held as manifestos by his House and descendants.

Eventually Chalarensis faded from history, and rule of the islands was passed on. Over the centuries, without the firm and seemingly invulnerable rule of their founder, House Chalarensis experienced a series of seemingly nonstop political disasters and catastrophes that modern historians refer to as the Reign of Horror. The House constantly struggled to retain control of the island through a number of military coups, native revolts, and several instances of internal schism. The primary cited reason as to why the islands' overall population is not greater is the deaths in the hundreds of thousands caused by the senseless bloodshed and skirmishes within that span of time.

Approximately 700 A.U., then Grand Duke Eutiende Tribal managed to assert a modicum of order over the islands by implementing the basic agreement to permit members of the House apart from the Head of House to govern the four smaller islands, where previously the Head of House asserted total incontestable sovereignty across every island. This deceptively simple measure marked the beginning of a truce between the four most prominent family lines amongst House Chalarensis, who stood together in order to enforce a proper sense of stability amidst the lineage whereas previously most of the individual house families had acted on the principle that they alone were the trueborn heirs to the title of Grand Duke and rule of the islands.

One of his brothers, Konoave Phano, was designated Governo of Acantha, unusual amongst his House for his marriage to an outsider and native to the Xandrian Sun Isles, one Duchess Andrea. She encouraged Konoave to declare himself Grand Duke of the Kawachian Islands, and shortly he was murdered. The responsible party remains unknown to this day, although nearly all authorities of note agree that the most likely suspects were Duchess Andrea herself or Grand Duke Eutiende. Regardless, Andrea proceeded to blame Eutiende, declaring herself Grand Duchess of the Islands of Kawachia and mobilizing both a Kawachian and Sunvale fleet to sail on and lay siege to Verbera's capital city of Indignor. This came in the wake of several of the governors of the other islands revolting, requiring Eutiende to sail between each one with his own fleets and armies in order to pacify them. Once he received news of Andrea's incursion, he was forced to abandon his campaign and rush to the defense of Indignor.

With Eutiende's fleets having been greatly weakened by their campaign, Andrea's joint fleet was able to easily surmount and sink them. However, Andrea lost nearly her full complement of Kawachian vessels during the engagement and was left without any commanders with experience in siegecraft. Her forces were thus unable to effectively attack or even blockade the city, suffering terrible attrition the entire time until the attack was ended by a boulder, hurled by a catapult on the shore battlements, crashing through the main cabin of Andrea's flagship, killing her in the process. The remaining Sunvale fleet fled, and Eutiende assumed full control over the islands once more and continue to implement new policies that would reinforce the rule of House Chalarensis.

Four decades ago, a regular band of surveyors mapping the deeper portions of the Ambages mountain chain discovered a volcanic vent emitting fire-retardant gas, now referred to as Helium. This spurred the eventual creation of the volcanic harvesting industry upon the islands, and led to the innovation of gas-balloons, concussive clay pots, and numerous other devices exploiting natural gasses found on the islands. To this day, many of the gasses are utilized throughout Ethica for a variety of purposes.

In the present era, House Chalarensis' rule remains excruciatingly firm and intractable, with the islands ruled largely though a combination of fear, force, coercion, and corruption - though all at the hands of a largely unified Ducal house, in accordance with Chalarensis' original vision.

Government

The Rule of House Chalarensis:

Put simply, House Chalarensis rules the islands of Kawachia using a mixture of force, fear, coercion, and money.

The Head of House is technically merely the Governor of Verbera, but only permits other select members of the family - all designated solely by the current Head - to govern the other four islands in his stead, with an understanding that the Head has final say in all decisions and may step in to investigate and conduct affairs at any time.

Members of House Chalarensis consist and appoint themselves as admirals, generals, and leaders of all military forces. Advancement is contingent both on a combination of merit and relation to the family. Due to the highly promiscuous habits of most members of the House, a greater degree of fluidity between the ranks (figurative and otherwise) is observed than might otherwise be expected. In effect, all militias, armies, fleets, and armed forces within Kawachia are controlled exclusively be members of the House, with native officers and commanders often being confidantes and lovers to them, precluding most instances of rebellion within the ranks. The military and the soldiers within it are granted special dispensation in regards to personal rights, rationing, and training - and thus form an unofficial upper class within Kawachian society.

There exists no other forms or families of nobility in the Islands. This is due largely to the excessive paranoia of House Chalarensis, who have been killing would-be-troublemakers for centuries now and like to remind everybody of the fact. The most influential positions held by natives outside of the military tend to be aides, landlords, and plantation owners - who are leaned on heavily and suppressed. A scarce number of foreign traders and merchants who live either temporarily or permanently in the islands are carefully monitored and required to observe a number of regulations concerning their operation as free foreign traders.

Due to semi-regular skirmishes with the seemingly endless native population of Mongerls on every island, the Province is considered to be on war-time footing with full rationing in effect, and with travel between islands by natives being heavily monitored and restricted. The geopolitical and cultural landscape of each island is thus, drastically different and each is a practical microcosm unto itself.

At the end of the day, all authority in the islands is backed with the threat of imminent violence. House Chalarensis does not claim to rule by divine right, but instead by right of the fact that they own all the men with swords and spears. They show no hesitation whatsoever to kill and make examples of troublemakers, and they have gone to great effort in order to arrange the geopolitical landscapes of each island in such a wa as to permanently suppress the possibility of rebellion.

Influence & Relations

(Work in Progress)

House Valian of Xandria: Embargo
-House Chalarensis, in addition to resenting Xandria for failing to intervene during Andrea Dustin's coup, have also been unilaterally embargoed by the Southern country due to the Grand Duke maintaining 'True Ruler of the Sunv Islands by Right of Conquest and Merit' as part of their spurious list of self-proclaimed titles.

House Duvard of Ignis: Ancient Animosity
-House Chalarensis views House Duvard as imperial lapdogs, and also resents them for their integral tie to House Valarien, whom House Chalarensis despises. They also resent House Duvard's possession of the founder's original ancestral home. However, to this day Ignis and Kawachia are active trade partners who exchange numerous goods and services.

House Gracieux of Violette: Mixed Tension
-House Chalarensis has not forgotten the small incident concerning a certain Duchess from Sunvale and her attempted coup. To this day, House Chalarensis waylays Veletian ships heading to and from Sunvale, while also engaging in brinksmanship and intimidation tactics via naval maneuvers in proximity to the Sun Isles. However, the two Houses do moderate trading in luxuries and currency despite this.

House Cragmore of the Highlands: Vague Bemusement
-Some git won a rain hammer from some scag playing a children's card game, killed some other guy, got James Lannister'ed, whined for his toy back, then some stuff happened. Also he 'won' one of the scag's disabled kids too, who got sent to the NOT-Tower of London. The end.

House Caernavir of Gwethydd Vague Annoyance
-Those pricks stole that rain hammer we won playing a children's card game!

Military

The Kawachian Islands have a (relatively) large standing army and navy, due in part to members of House Chalarensis widely considering themselves career soldiers and due to the cultural setting of the islands. However, this is not immediately apparent upon initial observation since most of the additional soldiers are seen in the navy as opposed to the army, with only select cities and fortifications possessing professional forces.

Most villages and towns possess temporary militias, which are regularly shuffled between locations with other militias. These bodies tend to be of low overall quality, possessing minimal training and little in the way of armor, typically only possessing a collection of mass-produced weapons in the line of either short-swords and spears. These soldiers nonetheless possess additional rights relative to the civilian populace, and are incentivized by increased rations and access to military brothels. The rate of turnover amongst these militias is moderate, most casualties being due to skirmishes with Mongerl raiders. When needed, militia forces are replenished by levying directly from associated villages and towns with suppressed natives typically leaping for the opportunity to have a better life.

Within regional strongholds, there is a different matter altogether. The forces there possess actual, although minimal training. They possess weapons and armor, although these are not castle forged and generally either bought or manufactured in bulk. Moreover, they tend to be led by commanders who have extensive experience battling the Mongerl menace, who have received at least some formal education in field tactics, maneuvers, siegecraft, and history. Forces between multiple fortifications may be quickly rallied together to form armies of modest size, and smaller groups amongst their number may be expected to garrison and effectively reinforce and hold key positions against most threats. Specializing largely in archery and spearwork, these garrison troopers are a largely defensive force. The rights and privileges of the average soldier are not much greater than that of a militia fighter, but the commanders typically have a relationship of some kind to House Chalarensis, usually by reference of merit but on the odd occasion personal. Unlike the standard militia, these forces are drawn from separate islands altogether, so that they will not instinctively hesitate to march on rebellious villages and towns within their station.

Finally, within the Capital of Indignor and strategically stationed in smaller numbers within the most prominent region of each island, there reside wholly professional soldiers who possess castle-forged arms and armor, possessing a fair degree of formalized training and drills, and typically led directly by a member (mostly but not always distant) of House Chalarensis. They possess nearly unquestionable authority, answering only to House Chalarensis and with many of their number having slight to strong personal relationships with members of the house. There are divisions in function amongst them, with those trained with spears, bows, lances and riding, siege engine operation, sapping, skirmishing, medical aid, communication, and organization.

The true might of House Chalarensis is fully observed in the Navy as opposed to their armies. Each serviceman and woman is trained to the same degree as Kawachian garrison troopers, while each Carrack usually possess a small number of professional soldiers trained to serve as marines. A small number of Kawachian Carracks thus excels at boarding operations, and may unload a modest but nonetheless dangerous and effective strike-group of professional soldiers anywhere that can be reached by boat.

The smallest arm of Kawachia's military is the Ducal Aerial Service, made up of fewer than 200 Helium balloon pilots. Each one is hand-picked by the head of House Chalarensis, and has received a thorough education in history, regional politics, diplomacy and mediation, trade, mathematics, and naval protocol. They are all additionally trained in the use of the saber, the traditional weapon of House Chalarensis. Each one is entrusted to act as an envoy of House Chalarensis, to ensure and defend their interests, to uphold their honor, and also to fly their Helium balloons around. They are the best-trained and educated individuals in the islands who are not members of House Chalarensis, being the closest there is to a form of nobility outside of the family as an analogue to knights.

The (again, relatively) large size of Kawachia's standing military is support in large part by their enforced system of wartime rationing, maintain perpetually for centuries due to the pretense of actual war with the Mongerl menace. Whole harvests of Hiven fruit is regularly sent to storehouses near the coast on the mere offchance that a passing Kawachian carrack may need to resupply, though often it merely sits and spoils without ever being touched.

All in all, Kawachia supports approximately 24,000 soldiers, around 2% of its population, at any given time.

The Islands

Verbera
As the island Chalarensis was originally exiled to, Verbera is the center of what passes for Kawachian culture and the House's influence. Accordingly, it features several stark schisms in the form of effective law.

The best-known area is to the Northern end of the Island, where the famous and decadent city of Lautitia is located. It, along with the three smaller towns and villages along the Northern coast, are deliberately manufactured facades designed to rival the grandeur and opulence of the other Houses. It is agreed by most that this area is actually fairly nice to live in. The area is bereft of Mongerls entirely, and is also home to the Calorwoods, which serve as the Ducal and Imperial hunting grounds.

Just south of the Vitare river however, things take a darker turn. The city of Arx on the West coast is little more than a fortress surrounded by slums and ghettos, while the lakeside city of Circen is little more than an occupied labor camp. The Capital city of Indignor, over the centuries, has been built, partially torn down, and rebuilt multuple times in order to accommodate newer, progressively more esoteric and arcane theories of warfare and siegecraft in order to render it impregnable, turning it into a nightmarish bramble of stonework.

To the South and West, the cities Cybam and Nemus are very nearly approximations of regular coastal towns on the mainland. Iugulum acts as the bread-basket of the Islands, growing fields of crop in the fertile volcanic soil and serving as a center of foreign and commercial trade, possessing the most civil atmosphere as a result.

The towns of Messis and Eo, along the bases of mountains, were both erected in the last fifty years in order to exploit long-running series of volcanic vents emitting valuable gasses. It is in these places that workers toil in hazardous and perilous conditions to harvest toxic and volatile substances from the blistering-hot emissions of the earth, separating and distilling each one into a viable industrial product.

Finally, there is the fabled, lost mythical city of Cro Beska. Undiscovered for more than a thousand years, the darkened halls and towers of this mountainside city hosts naught but horrid Mongerls, which breed there endlessly and plan new and dire ways in which to torment the peoples of Kawachia.

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Acantha
The mountainous island of Acantha was originally settled in the hopes that it would prove to be rich in valuable minerals and ores. Unfortunately, early surveyors discovered that most the mountain range was actively volcanic, rendering most of the subterranean climate hazardous - excessively so, to a much greater degree than expected of such an already dangerous profession. For centuries, Acantha was used purely as a military stronghold, with large fortresses and barracks where most of Kawachia's military was trained and where they built up their navy in drydocks. After the discovery of Helium four decades ago, the three strongholds on the island were rapidly converted to house loborers who would now exploit the previously detrimental volcanic features of the island in order to produce the name famous chemical crops of the Kawachian Islands. The conditions therein are actually of a lax and nearly wholly peaceful standard, as the strongholds were originally built to house relatively privileged garrison troopers, commanders, and professional soldiers in training. The native populace thus perform dangerous jobs but retain a high overall standard of living for mere peasants. Whether this will remain true as the strongholds are forced to expand remains to be seen.

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Iecur
An island of oddities, Iecur has the dubious distinction of being the poorest of the Kawachian Islands. This is despite the town of Rupes, built directly into a cliff-face, being home to several prominent pearl farms. Divers, many of whom do not own homes and sleep on shanties and wooden balconies perched hundreds of feet in the air, handle treasures worth hundreds of crowns on an almost daily basis. Most of the populace is homeless, but is one of the most well fed amongst the islands due to their excellent skills as fishermen and hunters. They experience frequent storms, taking shelter either in cliff-side caves or alcoves. The city of Claustra hosts the largest shipyard and dam in the islands, but has not produced any ships in more than a decade. Venam, originally intended to be the biggest producer of lumber in the isles, has constantly had its operations stalled and halted by a series of fire regions in the Hebeto region. The volcanic vents on the hill Casula was built to exploit went dry years ago, leaving onto water-based hot springs and mud pits for them to harvest from. Altogether, the peasants are even more deprived and miserable than usual, and the soldiery cranky. The island is usually given as a punishment detail and posting to many amongst the military and even House Chalarensis itself.

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Cetus
Where Iecur is the poorest island in Kawachia, Cetus is truly the most disparate and filled with grief. Cetus is the home of the majority of the isles' cattle plantations, where farmers-turned-slaves grow rows of barley just to see most of it fed to fat, lazy animals while the rest is shipped off-island. Most of the laborers do not even receive rations, and are expected to grow food for personal consumption in their own time. Militia patrol the fields and pastures, with orders to kill any unaffiliated workers too close to the boundaries of the plantations. Despite their severity, and the greater than normal amount of beatings and abuses by soldiers, the foremost cause of death on Cetus is by starvation. A consequence of the severe cultural isolation of each island is the impact on logistics; the island does not have enough space to service both cattle and to grow enough food for its entire population to live off of. Unfortunately for them, House Chalarensis has decided that their year-round death toll is acceptable, in order to provide their soldiers with meat.

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Balatro
Until 40 years ago, Balatro was considered one of the nicer of the Kawachian islands. The village of Caput was and is home to one of world's only Ammacre Pearl farms, while Inguine was merely a quiet cattle town One of Ethica's most elaborate lighthouses provided a stunning, unparalleled view of the Southern Sea. That all changed, with the discovery of Helium. Almost overnight, the island of Acantha was converted from a training stronghold into the Grand Duchy's biggest industrial center. House Chalarensis needed a new place to train and billet their soldiers, and Balatro became the sacrificial lamb. Ships and legions came to the island, with soldiery forcing the peasants from their homes and out into the wilderness. The towns were converted into forts with keeps made to match the conditions of the strongholds in Acantha. The natives were given no alternative lodging, provided with no suggestions or solutions, and expected to go away and stop being a nuisance. They nonetheless managed to endure, with difficulty, managing to establish meager fields of crop along the Eastern and Western cliffsides that the soldiers would not crush underfoot during training manuevers, and managed to erect crude huts and yurts for shelter. The island is prominent for its notable boundary of tiny campfires, marking the thousands of people living around the edges of what used to be their home.

The worst part is, since they stopped raising cattle, Cetus had to pick up the slack. Apparently they do not have enough room for crop over there to feed both the cattle and themselves. One wonders how they deal with that.

Tactical Assessment

As written by Aldric Endlil, Lord Adviser to the Emperor of Ethica

The province of Kawachia is the object lesson of what happens when the righteous permit the wicked to go mad with power. The entirety of the islands is literally shaped, politically and culturally, to service the needs of House Chalarensis. The house itself is made up of megalomaniacal blackguards with delusions of grandeur, each harboring intense, almost religiously instilled resentment towards most people on the mainland, most prominently you yourself. They are convinced that they are owed the whole of the world for deeds and wrongs centuries past, and not only will they not let anybody forget it, but they are decidedly on the verge of being very violent about the whole affair.

Thus it should come to no surprise that the whole of their province is a dystopian nightmare intended to build their House up at the expense of everybody else.

The warning signs are everywhere. Even though the people on Cetus are dying of starvation, House Chalarensis maintains a relatively large, and importantly, a well-fed military. I estimate that the percentage of their population that qualifies as at least a militia-member may be as high as 2%, and all fairly well armed and trained at every level. I doubt their armies would be a full match for forces of the Imperial Throne, but the size of their navy is sufficient to be worrisome.

It also goes without saying that this whole business with the Kawachian Ducal Aerial League has created no end of headaches. Of course, the forces of the Imperial Throne were wise enough to retain some of those marvelous balloons for our own use, along with enough Helium in depots to keep them in the air for weeks if need be. The fact remains though, that the Kawachi islands are the only source of Helium in all of Ethica. If there should be some disturbance in logistics and trade for an extended period, they would be the only ones capable of maintaining the blasted things. The obvious advantages in regards to scouting and reconnaissance go without saying, but the latest reports from Imperial agents in Indigor indicate that Ormoneric is perfectly willing to use them as terror weapons, raining plague and fire on cities from the sky. Naturally, this exact problem also extends to their and our supply of those fire pots. We have some, to be sure, but we might run out. They never will. Combined with their historical knack for siegecraft, I fear no stronghold would be able to stall an advance of theirs for long.

As if that were not enough on its own, House Chalarensis remains unnervingly wealthy. They do good trade even with their enemies, mostly exchanging goods and services for more of the same, and they loan large sums of wealth from Veletian banks using pearls and spices as collateral. They probably have sufficient reserves to bankroll their forces for some time even in the event that war should break out.

All of these are formidable advantages. Lesser foes working with lesser means nearly extinguished the Empress Lalaifia herself, during the unification wars. However, House Chalarensis draws all of these strengths into the body of their House to the detriment and degradation of its foundation.

Most clearly, while the possibility of a military coup is nearly wholly absent, House Chalarensis has practically no popular support whatsoever. Their own peasants and servants would welcome almost any invader as liberators - possibly even the Drathii! Sufficient withdrawal and absence of their forces from the islands will inevitably result in a number of revolts. This also presents many opportunities for internal subterfuge. While House Chalarensis is very cautious about the movement of its natives between islands, they are less meticulous concerning the whereabouts of foreigners who come and go. They will keep an eye on anyone who stays in any one place for too long, but it is easy enough to pull the wool over the eyes of their port inspectors if, say, our friend in Indignor were to take in the sights.

The next noteworthy vulnerability is the supply of cereals to their military. With a large amount of arable land, enforced wartime rationing, and extensive importing of wheat and barley, they barely come up with a surplus. A single moderate to severe disruption of any of those factors would lead to instability amongst their forces.

Also in good tidings, is the near complete absence of any magical experts or authorities amongst their number. Considering themselves professional career soldiers, each and every one, House Chalarensis is scornful of magic and believes that expertly applied traditional tactics and solid troops can overcome any cantrip or incantation. Clearly they have forgotten that Vilespawn mummery has not a patch on the Divine magic you and I are more familiar with, not to mention the other respectable magical orders who might oppose them.

Furthermore, while House Chalarensis is quite fond of forts and siege theory, unfortunately for them their strongholds are largely decentralized, and their forces too specialized. On any specific island they can move troops around quickly enough, but between islands is a different matter entirely - not to mentioned between their islands and the mainland. They could very well lose a whole island before they could move to intervene! On a related note, they are used to having the naval advantage; without the ability to quickly traverse coasts and rivers while being supported by carracks they will lose most of their edge.

The dour tone of this briefing aside, I feel the need as your servant to humbly remind that House Chalarensis, while overtly antagonistic and one of the most immediate concerns of the realm, is made up of petty cowards. They are overwhelmed by their hubris, clinging to the past and hurling childish insults out of fear of direct confrontation. They can be intimidated. They can be cowed. I would suggest an audience with their Head of House, or perhaps a decree for a Royal Procession in the streets of Lautitia. Remind the blackguards who the real authority is and let them take out their frustration on the peasantry.

Exports: Pearls, spices, seafood, sugarcane, Hivenfruit, and cattle.
Imports: Medicinals, wheat, barley, lumber, glass, textiles, common metals.

And So Daedalus Laughed

o-o contest-mod-sama is gracing us with his presence??

*fangirling intensifies*

I'm kidding, please don't flense me or stab me or torture me or disfigure me or kill me or take me off of the contest staff or any or all of the above. Glad you're here, Terminal. Seriously.

@RomanAria

Indeed, I have been sitting on a stockpile of impetus for a while now that needs to be burned.

As for the flensing and the torture and the permanent disfigurement and death - there will be plenty of that IC. Patience.

And So Daedalus Laughed

I shall be joining.

By Way Of The Leaning Gale [Space Western RP]

He dreamed of death.

His body was wooden, an effigy constructed from twigs and bound by strips of plant matter. His own self, his waking body, lay beneath him drowning in blood from a torn throat filled with thorns - blood that slithered and constricted around the twig body, ensnaring it in visceral ichor even as he glared up at himself with hateful eyes. The moon, hanging in the pitch void sky of the featureless backdrop, was a pentagon aglow with dusken hues.

There was a whisper of a voice, a hissing, clattering, dry sound like bone dragged across slate. The perturbations in its intonation made comprehension impossible.

The blood slathered itself over the eyes he did not have, and he suffocated on deafening blindness. He fell, back, back, and lines of impossible color rose from the corners of his mind like bars. All he knew was the writhing form of a tangled worm, a rind of pulp wrapped around a brittle star of bones. It reaches up into his depths with a slender protrusion and Iikka Guiomar rolled straight out of his bunk, his body falling on top of his outreached arm and making him gasp with shock and pain as his head slammed against the floor and the muscles in his wrist stretch unnaturally while his bunk's alarm blared nearby.

Grinding his teeth in a mixture of pain and the existential agony of waking from a poor night's sleep, Iikka untangled himself slowly as the alarm shut off automatically and entered snooze mode, its damage already done and owner painfully awake. Finally managing to sit up, Iikka simply lay still for a few minutes to catch his bearings before finally rising and switching the alarm off before it could go off again.

The nightmares were irregular but always occurred like clockwork just before a job, probably due to incremental increases in stress from pre-job preparations and troubleshooting. Iikka gave himself an extra five minutes as he showered in his small room's all-in-one bathroom niche, taking the opportunity to blank out and think about absolutely nothing while he stared at the metallic gray wall and hot water poured down his back. His one mental break for the next several days now out of the way, Iikka took momentary stock of his appearance in the niche's mirror.

Iikka's face possessed angular edges, having been described as foxish before due in no small part to his prominent cheekbones and the pronounced ridges over his striking, orange eyes. His long, tawny hair had several knots worked into it again - and though he would never tell anybody, he lamented that there still were no hints of gray about it despite his 34th birthday on the near horizon. Due to his slight frame and the features of his face, many people mistook him for being much younger - and consequently, did not take him entirely seriously. Two past mishaps with gray hair dye had him swearing it off entirely, and Iikka felt a sullen swell of dejection as his thoughts drifted almost reflexively to Dakho. Something about the now-deceased Comms Officer's dress, demeanor, and looks had made sure that most people had taken him seriously, and he could usually be relied on to play face if Iikka himself was not fully confident about it.

Of course, he was gone now. Still plenty of work to be done though. Iikka brushed the errant cobweb of reflection out from his mind, conjuring a surge of freshly brewed irritation to replace it. He had ways of making people pay attention, both tedious and messy, and it was about time he stopped relying on somebody else to handle a key aspect of his actual job. Iikka spent the next fifteen seconds reflexively shaving stubble from his jawline before dressing - black business casual pants and a gray jacket over an orange shirt, to compliment his eyes. He then eased back into his bunk and with a flick of his wrist pulled up his holographic work interface to review the details for the job.

Iikka had spent the last two weeks working meticulously to ensure all possible avenues had been covered. There was no question as to whether something would go wrong, but merely what would go wrong. The Leaning Gale was aptly named; the wind was never blowing in quite the direction you thought it was. There was always some extra layers of conspiracy or mercenary interest that you could never anticipate for, and the key to survival was to plan for every contingency. Plan for enough potential failures, and maybe everybody might be able to get in and out without any fuss or violence and get paid. There were some iffy variables of note, two or so known unknowns, but overall Iikka was anticipating minimal operational causticity. More security and general resistance than he was generally comfortable with, but that was a given.

Elliot's voice blared through the room as the Captain summoned everyone to the mess hall. Feeling about as ready as he supposed he could be, Iikka got up, stretched one final time and worked a kink out of his left elbow, and stepped out the door to his room. The transformation that took place as he crossed through the portal was palpable. His lowered eyes, heavy with sleep, widened faintly into a more alert and ingrained leer. His mouth, already somewhat asymmetrically skewed to the left, adopted a faint and seemingly easy smirk, lips faintly parted near to the right ridge to reveal his set teeth. His hands lowered to his hips, hands held steady in a semi-clench akin to a gunslinger standing at the ready, while he drew his shoulders back faintly and craned his neck slightly ahead. The word that might have lept to mind for many who looked at him then would be tense, or perhaps predatory.

He advanced down the hall, heading for the mess hall, and keeping an eye out for the newest member of the crew - Cha’kwaina. Gauging her reaction to his stance would be the best way to determine whether he was on-form or not.

After all. Who better to assess the effectiveness of a stance he had adopted through observation of the members of a Zartarian glut, than a Quinunaki ex-slave who had probably learned to react subconsciously to the same stance through a similar kind of observation?

He did not care whether she flinched reflexively in fear or bristled in anger, so long as she reacted in any way at all that confirmed he was doing it correctly. As he walked directly into the mess hall, he made sure to faintly twitch the corners of both of his eyes. It was impossible for Human eyes to fully capture the motion of nictitating membranes, but they could evoke a flutter of sorts - particularly around the corners - that was superficially similar. Iikka knew it got a reaction out of Zartarians at the very least, if his experiences with them over the years was anything to go by. Now to see if one of their former slaves could tell him whether he was still doing it correctly, after all that time.