The Nexerus

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

If you're changing it, it's fine.

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

@Paper Angel@GreivousKhan Ridable flying monsters? Really? This is allowed?

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

Agrocultural production in this era would be relatively linearly related to rural population. Each rural peasant would produce a tiny amount more food than he needs to sustain himself.

A place like Violette would be roughly in equilibrium. Anywhere less urbanized would produce an excess for export, anywhere more urbanized would need to import a portion of their food, and places like Starborn City or the Vialiphate would be completely dependent on food imports for nearly all of their agricultural needs.

Super Tuesday

It's a tad disingenuous to count super delegates quite yet. If Sanders wins more state delegates, the dens would be playing a dangerous game using super delegates to override the popular decision. Not saying they won't do it, but it wouldn't be the smart move, since Clinton is already a controversial figure, and the accusation of gaming the primary would be easier to,stick on her than really any other candidate.

@Vilageidiotx

Randomly deciding to ignore Super Delegates at the last moment because Sanders supporters thinks they're unfair isn't going to happen. If the Democrats cared about having democratically elected candidates, they would have changed the system long ago.

These aren't polls or something that may or may not be included in the final result. They are votes cast. Sanders has almost no possibility whatsoever of becoming the Democratic candidate. It's getting to the point where his only potential way of winning is if Clinton is disqualified.

Super Tuesday

I'm rooting for sanders obvsies, but to me it's still a toss up with hillary at a 55% likely chance at winning the primary.

Point stands is hillary has massive name recognition, bernie still has growth, and the primaries is far from over.

@scribz

That seems a little optimistic. If primaries were determined by a straightforward assessment of popular support, he might have had a chance. But they aren't (at least for the Democrats), so I'd say his odds of winning are in the single digits percentage wise, if that. Obviously, any further massive scandals on Hillary's part could give Bernie a sort of win by default, but as it stands...

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

Lalrial, The Heartlands

---

There were three different wines to be offered for the meal. A red vintage, imported to the Imperial Capital from the southern Fleurs de Mer, was Victoria's favourite. Its colour was excellent, and it had the perfect amount of sweetness, accentuated by a very light citrus aftertaste. The best wine to be found in eastern Ethica, the Duchess would opine. Of course, to only offer the best wine from one half of the continent was woefully insufficient to charm a woman such as Lady Marra. Thus, the second choice was the best wine in the west. Another red, this one from the island of Sunvale, a possession of House Gracieux along Xandria's southern coast. Xandrian wines tended to be much spicier than Veletian brands, and Sunvale vintages were far from the exception. Each bottle was entirely pure, no added spices, yet still had a kick stronger than any wine found on the mainland. Victoria loved to talk up the exceptional nature of any one of the innumerous products House Gracieux had for sale, but Sunvale wine was one of her family's possessions that, although it tasted as excellently as she claimed, the Duchess loathed to taste herself. It brought back too many bad memories from horrible times. The third option, the cheapest by far, was more or less for decoration. An afterthought, that no one who cared even slightly about wine would select. A peasant's wine, made from grapes in the northern Luzerne. It was the sort of wine one might offer to children: grape-coloured water more so than alcohol, and sickeningly sweet. When entertaining newly monied merchant families, or especially destitute old blooded nobles, Victoria would sometimes play a game of trying to pass off Luzerne wines for something substantial. Those without a drop of class were far too easy to fool, and she'd yet to be caught in the act. Lady Marra, though, if the rumours of her partying and rampant debauchery were true, was likely to be able to distinguish a Luzerne from a Sunvale.

"Wonderfully pleasant to see you, Lady Marra!" Victoria spoke with a grin as the sister of the Queen of Tellaria walked in. The Duchess was sitting in a private room in the upstairs of an upscale Lalrial restaurant, having been waiting for her appointment with Lady Marra. The door to the elite, private dining quarters was flanked by two officers of the Veletian Gendarmerie; a future Empress could hardly afford the luxury of going out unattended, after all. The inside of the room held no guards, though, as Victoria loathed to be accompanied by the under-classes when dining. This was especially so when the purpose of the meal was not to sate hunger, but to impress. If the wines weren't enough to impress by themselves, hopefully the fact that the entire restaurant was owned by the Duchess Gracieux would be. Victoria rose from her seat for a moment, giving Marra a friendly welcome. "How does the toast of Lalrial fare?"

The Lady Marra, resplendent in her crimson dress that went so perfectly with both her hair and her eyes smiled beatifically across the table at her current companion as she stretched out a delicate ivory hand to pick up one of the bottles of wine. "I fare well Victoria, I do love the city, so many things to do, people to see, it never grows tiring." She raised the bottle up and looked at the label for a moment before setting it down again and doing the same with another.

"And how do you fare?" She continued, this time with further pleasantries. "I hear Violette is more prosperous than ever." And as she finished Marra seemed to have made her choice regarding the wines, "I think this will do nicely." She said as she tapped her finger lightly against the side of the first of the three options. Then raising the bottle she poured it in the proper amounts into the glasses set before them.

Victoria returned to her seat and took a sip from her glass, still wearing an accommodating smile. While Lady Marra was dressed in a vibrant crimson, matching her fiery red hair, Victoria wore an elegant, dark purple dress, and her long black hair was tied behind her, in a Veletian braid. The most splendid part of her ensemble, though, was the jewellery decorating her neck. House Gracieux's ancestral artefact, the gilded bouquet: a golden necklace decorated with gemstones in the shape and colour of flowers. The largest and most central of these flowers, at the nape of Victoria's neck, was of course a violet. "Violette fares excellently. We've recently had to grant a substantial loan to the senate for them to expand the city's docks. I'd dare say we have more ships and more bodies travelling through the flower of the eastern sea than ever. But how has this city we sit in been, of late, with Taramyth's passing?"

"The smallfolk continue on as if nothing happened in truth. But the parties have been dreadfully dull. All anyone wants to talk about these days is who will be the next Emperor, and none of the people talking has any say in the matter." Marra shook her head, a slight frown on her features as if the thought of wasting a perfectly good party with political conversation was offensive to some degree. "It's been the closest to boring I've seen the city."

Victoria decided to speak her mind. "It requires a special sort of person to pursue politics for any reason other than greed or familial necessity. A benevolent ruler is a sort of rarity that most, like the smallfolk, have never witnessed in their lives. It fuels their pessimism. Most of the best remembered leaders in history are those who simply did nothing in prosperous times. But we're getting into a nasty subject here, aren't we? I'm sure both of your ears have been talked off about the succession quite enough already. How goes the most important affair of all: love? Does the beautiful Lady Marra have a man in her life?"

Lady Marra's own smile returned as the subject veered away from the endless discussions of sucession once more and she took a somewhat larger sip from her wine glass than those Victoria had taken. She seemed to be pondering the proper way to reply to the question before at last speaking in reply. "Perhaps..." The one word was spoken in such a way that it almost certainly implied that there was someone, and also implied that she wasn't necessarily wanting to disclose it. But she did continue. "You meet so many delightful people at the parties." Then she finished the rest of her glass of wine.

A pert, knowing grin was drawn across Victoria's face at Marra's words. "Making plenty of friends is all well and good, but be sure you're more diminutive when it comes to lovers." Her smile then dwindled, and she took a healthy sip of wine before continuing. "And that applies doubly to husbands."

Marra's own face showed a brief flash of sympathy as Victoria spoke in a veiled reference to her own misfortune. "I have refined tastes Victoria, you needn't worry about that. I'm pleased you escaped your own misfortune, it was an ugly affair." And as she finished she picked up the bottle and refilled her own glass before topping off Victoria's.

"Hopefully none of the men involved in your affairs have been ugly." Victoria joked.

"Mine have all been gentlemen, if not always perfect ones." She smiled. "You don't get far in my line of work without some ability to judge character." And again, she raised her glass, taking another fairly long sip from it.

Victoria allowed the conversation to pause for a time, and allow Lady Marra to continue with her wine. After she had carefully decided upon her next words, she spoke. "What do you make of my character, Marra? You are one of the most well known and respected personalities in Lalrial. What does her most astute Lady Marra think of Duchess Victoria Gracieux?"

And Lady Marra's broad smile remained as she listened to the duchess' words, words that contained praise for her as well. "I think you are a clever and charming lady who turned her mistake into a source of strength and resolve, and I think you've got steel in you, just like Varminia does."

The Duchess raised her finger as Lady Marra spoke of what she gained from her mistake, and waited until she had finished speaking before adding, "More important than strength and resolve, though, I'm sure you'll agree, is good wine! My old mistake's seat makes some of the best. Please..." Victoria gestured to the wine cabinet at the side of the room facing the door, which held multiple bottes of each of the three vintages that she had offered, and several more. "Help yourself to a bottle or two, for later, or for your own collection." Victoria took a final drink from her glass, then stood from her chair, smiling at Marra. "I'm afraid I need to attend to my husband, Ralltene. I swear, if a man doesn't have a strong woman behind him, he can't accomplish much of anything."

Marra nodded with clear agreement and a bit of a stifled laugh as Victoria mentioned that wine was more important. She certainly didn't disagree about the importance of such things. And as her host gestured towards the cabinent Marra approved of that as well. "Well you are strong, I'm sure you'll keep him in line, I'm happy things are so much better for you." The crimson haired woman stood as well. "And thank you for a delightful chat, I'll give Varminia your regards."

---

[Collaboration between myself and Raptorman]

Super Tuesday

And despite some lite criticism the democratic race as been a lot more modest and humble, with only Clinton's Emails being brought up a couple times, but Bernie and Clinton both decided publicly they were done with making the Emails the only focus.

@Dinh AaronMk

I feel like that whole situation was blown over way too easily. A Secretary of Defence casually e-mailing state secrets to her pen pals is a pretty big deal. Obviously the personal incompetence of Obama's heir apparent isn't something the Democratic Party, including Sanders, would want to talk about, but on the whole it's definitely an important discussion.

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

Which will be further north (along Violette's border), Celeste's nation or Paper Angel's nation?

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

Sunvale, Kingdom of Xandria

---

It was a bright, cloudless day, a full four years ago. The young Anice Gracieux, heir to her family's power and fortune, was even younger: a shy, but cheery, six year old girl. She was not yet the heir at the time; that title still belonged to her aunt, Zoé Gracieux, her mother Victoria's elder sister. Anice's grandfather Frank had not yet passed away, and Zoé was the heir presumptive, residing in the House Gracieux seat of Fleur de Violette, assisting the aging Duke Frank in his twilight years. Anice lived with her parents in her father's seat, Sunvale, a castle perched on an island in southern Xandria. The island was owned by House Dustin, of whom her father, Trent Dustin, was Lord. House Dustin of Sunvale was a prominent family in Xandria, wealthy and well respected. Their island seat's ports were filled with merchant vessels and war-galleys alike, the masters of the Xandrian seas.

Anice was not sure exactly what the Dustins did, but she knew it had something to do with grapes. Sunvale, and all of the rest of the island that Anice had ever seen, was practically overgrown with grapevines. It was as if the entire island was one huge garden, and this was much to Anice's liking. The warm weather of Sunvale, and the vineyard's pleasant scent, offered something pleasant for the young girl. A distraction, to draw her thoughts away from what went on in Sunvale underneath the warm sunshine and vibrant orchards. Anice's mother, Victoria Dustin, who would in four years be the imperious Duchess Victoria Gracieux, with eyes on the Imperial Throne, now had only one ambition: escape. Every night, far past Anice's bedtime, Victoria would enter her young daughter's bedroom, freshly bathed, but crying. Sometimes she would limp, and sometimes she would wear makeup over her face, to hide her wounds from her beloved daughter. Anice would almost always wake when her mother crawled into her bed, but rarely would she say anything, or even open her eyes. If ever she spoke or moved, it would be to whisper a soft goodnight, or hug Victoria more tightly. Anice didn't know why her mother visited her at night, always crying, but she thought she might be sick. She hoped she would feel better soon.

Young Anice would have her wish on that fateful, cloudless day, the first in over six years whose night held no tears for Victoria. Lord Trent Dustin, Anice's father, had been drinking a lot of grapejuice all day. It was a special grapejuice, only for grownups, and Victoria had always told Anice she wouldn't be allowed to have any until she was older. Trent sometimes poured Anice a glass anyway, but it would always go to waste. Anice trusted her mother's judgement, and she was fine with drinking the same juice as the other children. Drinking all o the juice would sometimes make Trent very happy, but other times, if he drank too much, he would be very mad. Anice would always leave and hide in her room if that happened. Her Dad was always loud, but when he drank too much, he would be even louder, and sometimes storm down the halls of his own castle, stumbling over and breaking things, making a ruckus. This was the first time he'd ever gone to Anice's room in such a state.

"Victoria!" he hollered to his wife angrily, as she pushed open the doors to his daughter's bedroom. He was shocked for a second, finding the room smaller than he remembered and all of the furniture out of order, but after a few moments he realized he'd stormed into the wrong room. His stupor was too strong for him to care, though, and Lord Trent decided he didn't talk to his daughter as much as he should.

"You know, girl..." he began, sitting on Anice's bed next to her, and staring down at the floor. "You're six years old, now. Over five years your mother has had to make you a brother, and she can't. You want a brother, don't you Anice?"

The young girl squirmed uncomfortably, scooting down her bed a little further from her drunken father. "Maybe a sister, daddy?" she asked, staring down at the same spot on the floor that her father seemed to be fixated on.

Trent took a few seconds to reply, smacking his lips and grumbling before any words escaped. "Another girl wouldn't do me any good. If I died right now my brother's son would become the Lord, you know? I don't know how it works in Violette, but there's no such thing as a Lady her. There's never been a 'Lady of Sunvale', except for the wives of the Lords. So you..." Trent trailed off, turning suddenly to grab hold of his daughter, closing his hands around her small arms and pushering her down onto the bed. "You are completely useless to me." He released her left arm, only to use his hand to strike her, smashing a fist against the child's face. His ring cut into her cheek, leaving a gash that immediately started bleeding, heavily. Both of his hands were then around her neck, squeezing it, strangling the life out of his daughter. He spoke to her as she strangled her, glaring into her eyes, utterly enraged. She didn't hear all of what he said. She couldn't see or hear or even feel much of anything, except the wound on her cheek and the tightening around her neck. "You had a brother, you know. Or maybe the sister that you wanted. Probably more than one. And your mother, your fucking cunt of a mother, she killed them! She murdered my sons!"

Suddenly, Anice could breathe again, but only slightly. Her father's hands had left her neck, and he had broken out into tears, collapsing onto the floor next to the bed. Anice felt like crying too, but she hurt too much to cry. Her father's screaming that attracted the attention of a small crowd of servants and guards outside, but they didn't dare open the door, for fear of their lives. It wasn't until Victoria arrived, having grown tired of waiting in Trent's bed, that she opened the door herself. The sight of her daughter, bloodied and gasping for air, sparked an instinct in her that sprung instantly. She grabbed a candelabra off of Anice's bedside table and smashed it over her husband's head, crushing his skill and killing him instantly. The guards did nothing to stop the Lady of Sunvale as she carried her barely conscious Anice out of the room and away. That was the last part Anice remembered.

---

Violette, Republic of Violette

---

"Anice?" "Anice?" "Hello?" The third word was accompanied by a gentle poke to her cousin's shoulder as Tsirine tried to get her attention. Her face showed an expression of confusion and concern. Was something wrong? She didn't normally just sit there staring. Tsirine knew all sorts of things that could be wrong, she'd looked through one of her mom's books on healing a few times and sometimes people's heads just stopped working and they died. The young red haired girl was about to go get her mother when Anice finally responded.

"I'm sorry. I was looking out the window, and it was so sunny today. I'm okay."

Gathering herself and moving her thoughts away from the past and into the present, Anice Graxieux returned her gaze to the chess board assembled before her. It was made of some sort of fancy glass from across the ocean, one side's pieces tinted violet and the other's tinted gold. She still didn't fully understand the game, but the sunlight from the window reflecting off the glass sure made it look pretty.

Reaching forward, Anice grabbed a rook off of the board and moved the piece to the right, defending her King from Tsirine's Queen. She wasn't entirely sure if that was a legal move or not, but she trusted that Tsirine would tell her if it wasn't. She rubbed the scar on her cheek idly, waiting for her cousin to take her turn.

Tsirine nodded, but her eyes lingered on her cousin's face for a long moment as if looking for any sign that there was really something wrong. She knew what had happened to Anice, she also knew she wasn't supposed to talk about it, her mom had been very clear with her. And if Anice said she was okay...

She looked down then at the chessboard and frowned a bit as she took in the current boardstate and what her cousin had done. Then she reached out with a hand and pointed to the rook. "If you do that then I can do this," She picked up a knight and moved it over to put Anice's king in check again while also threatening the rook.

"You always have to look for opportunities like that. And not just ways you can get my pieces trapped, but also how I can try to trap yours if you make a move." Tsirine nodded again as she tried to explain. "It's part of the fun, thinking ahead."

Anice pouted, frowning slightly, not quite bored so much as disappointed in herself. "I don't like this game. It seems like there are so many different things that you can do, but none of them is the right thing. I don't know how my mother thinks moving around bits of glass is supposed to teach me how to rule. I bet she never played this when she was little, and now she's going to be Empress."

"If Raltene wins the most support she will be Empress." Tsirine corrected instinctively. "That might not happen." She pointed to the chess board. "My dad said that chess was like life, you take the best possible move and try to guess what your opponent will do but you never know for sure and you should plan for everything. I bet even if she doesn't win she'll have a plan." Tsirine smiled then. "Don't be too hard on yourself, you are doing better than I did when I was first starting to play and you won't make the same mistake again."

Determined not to lose, Anice carefully looked over every piece on the board, analyzing every move she could move and every move Tsirine could make after her. It seemed as though none of her king's soldiers could save him, though, and so the king had to save himself. Grabbing a hold of her king piece, Anice moved him out of the way of Tsirine's knight, and carefully ensured she hadn't trapped herself before releasing her hand.

"Another part is making your opponent have as few options as possible." Tsirine spoke as she reached out to move her knight again, this time to take the rook she had set up with her previous move. "You only could move your king which meant I was guaranteed to be able to take your rook."

Raising an eyebrow and sighing, Anice crossed her arms over her chest and grumbled. "Can we play this again sometime later? I'm tired of chess. Auntie Vel!" Anice turned away from the chess table and Tsirine and towards Velhara, sitting off in the far corner of the room. "Did your big sister ever play chess when she was little? Do you need to be good at chess to be a good ruler?"

Velhara stirred from her chair, lifting her head up as she looked away from the book she was reading to smile over at her daughter and her neice. It was the expression she almost always seemed to wear. "Varminia always enjoyed those games. But you don't need to be good at them, a ruler must be more than just a planner. And if you aren't good at it, you find someone who is and have them help. I was always forgetting the rules, I think the only time I ever won was when she was sick and fell asleep while we were playing." She seemed to be waxing a bit nostalgic, thinking about her own childhood.

Tsirine looked across the table at her cousin and said softly. "Okay. We can play something else if you want."

Anice thought about all of the different games the two of them could play there in Fleur de Violette, and eventually had an idea. "I know!" She reached over, tagged Tsirine on the shoulder and ran away, laughing. "You're it!"

And Tsirine scrambled up to her feet and chased after her cousin in a hurry. Velhara, still smiling returned to her book.

---

[Collaboration between myself and Raptorman]

A Gilded Throne - A Shadow Looms (Closed)

That's fine, sure.