Wyrmhero

No votes as of yet, so this will be paused until there are some.

Week 3, Day 1: Guilt “Left! Right! Left! Left again!” Each word is punctuated by a ringing noise, as steel clashes against steel. Your footwork is impeccable, each step perfectly placed as you advance on your opponent. Each blow is carefully measured to not hurt your opponent - These are real, sharp swords, after all, and it wouldn’t do to injure each other when it’s just for training. “Wait, wait!” a feminine voice replies, taking a quick step back, the sword clattering to the floor as your last blow knocks it from their hand. The voice comes from your opponent, but her(?) form is… misty. You can’t quite grasp it. “I wasn’t ready.” “The world won’t wait for you to be ready,” a third person says. Masculine, lazy, he reclines at the foot of the stairs, watching you both with some amusement. “You want to be up here?” she asks, and even if you can’t see it, you can hear the scowl. “Not really,” he admits. “Unlike you, I’m not a masochist. I’m quite content to just lie here and watch you make fools of yourselves.” “If this is going to succeed, we need to be trained,” you say, and it takes you a moment to realise it’s your voice again. “That includes you.” You turn your blade on your opponent again. It’s heavier than you’re used to, but it’s a different type of sword than you’re used to. No matter, it was easy enough to adjust for it. Swordplay may not be your greatest strength, but it’s one you’re practised at. The woman sighs and picks her sword up again. You clash again and again, trying to display for her how you move from one form to the next, showing the proper footwork and hand positioning as you go. “Okay, that’s enough,” you say, stepping back. You walk over to the stairs and offer the blade to the third person in the room, handle-first. “Your turn. I’ll watch you spar, and correct you.” He sighs as he takes the blade and stands up. “You are far too serious for your own good. We’ll be fine.” “I’d rather be prepared than dead,” you reply, frowning. “Stop whining and get on with it. We’ll need to be strong enough to hold our own, if we’re to-” You shift in your sleep uncomfortably, as you pass from one dream to the next. Your next dream is red with fire, and black with suffocating smoke. The week begins the same way as the last, with a gnawing sense of dread and despair keeping you from sleeping properly, but now there’s something else there too - anticipation. You’ve been feeling weaker, more tired as the week comes to an end, and you know that, after receiving another Breath, you will be perfectly hale and hearty again. That thought spirals into more guilt again, as you remember what someone has to give up in order for you to feel better. Perhaps that is why you cast your vote against Kindsmile, a vague and ultimately small desire to stop more people giving away something they don’t fully understand. To prevent the world becoming a little smaller for someone. Was it the right choice? You don’t know. You’d like to believe it was, even if it might disappoint Kindsmile, Coinspender and Fatespinner. But there’s only so long you can be a neutral party without annoying everyone else with your inability to act. Hera drags you out of bed - thankfully not literally, for all the humiliation that would entail - and you are dressed in ceremonial fineries and all the accoutrements afforded to your station. The process is just as unsubtle as the last time. A tearful child briefly taunted with a glimpse of opulence, money exchanged for the gift of life, one they will damage their own life to give. Perhaps it will help them; perhaps not. You try to be kind and gentle. Perhaps it works, or perhaps the child has steeled themself (Himself? Herself? You can’t tell) to be ready. Either way, it is without incident. A normal occurrence for a god, utterly insignificant. You feel awful. Your mood improves immensely after being gifted the child’s Breath. As with last week, it revitalises you in ways that you never even realised you were feeling weary. You feel lighter in both mind and body, and your sense of the world around you sharpens. It takes a while for you to remember why you feel that way, about the ritual sacrifice you have just taken part in. That puts a damper on your day. You are taken into what passes as a throne room within your palace, where already there are a multitude of priests and guards milling around, making sure that people wait their turn properly for their attempt at a miracle, noting down all the petitioners and all their requests. Like all things you do, any responses you give to them will be scrutinised far more than you think is worthwhile. Subconsciously, everything you do has meaning. You wonder what meaning they would derive if you punched one of them. All-in-all, it’s just another week in your current life, another series of guilt-trips designed to make you hate yourself and life enough to want to end it for the sake of someone you barely know. Perhaps it is your restless night that has made you irritable. Or perhaps you’re just feeling sarcastic and introspective for the sake of it; you know that’s often enough the case. “My sister has-” Another person steps forward to beg. You start listening, promising that this time, you’ll pay attention. But he doesn’t realise that you’ve heard this story before. There’s nothing unique about his case, no novelty. You didn’t give your Breath away for this story before, and it would be unfair of you to give it away now. “My father’s very sick-” Susebron - The God-King - said that he liked the current set of gods. Was that because he thought we were good people, or just because we had a kind of balance? Did that mean that he didn’t want you to give away your breath, or was it just an offhand comment? Had he had a similar talk with all the other gods? “I’m worried about my mother, she’s not been out of bed-” Maybe you should do as some of the others have done, and create a kind of ‘system’ to decide, so it’s out of your hands. Maybe something like Fateweaver, where it’s up to the whims of fortune as to whether or not you live or die. Perhaps if you lived in the moment, instead of inside your own head, life would be simpler. “My son’s not doing so well-” The cases progress, each person coming forward to plead why you should die for their sake. You try to be attentive, but already they’re starting to blur into one, unrecognisable mass. You wonder how the previous batch of gods withstood this, week after week. Some of them, you read, had lived here for twenty years. You’re already jaded and depressed, and it’s only been two weeks. Were they selfish? Cowardly? Sterner, perhaps? Or was it too easy to just ignore the world, and pretend it didn’t exist, inside these opulent palaces? “I don’t want to die.” That last one. It cuts through you, resonates so strongly, it’s as though you were the one pleading for it, saying it along with the petitioner. Saying it to each one that comes up to you. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t want to die either’. Are you allowed to be selfish, when they’re being selfish too? You could say ‘what if a more worthy case comes along, and I’ve already given my breath away?’ You know that would be a lie though. Comforting, maybe, until the quiet hours of the night when you’re just left with your treacherous, selfish thoughts. You tell Hera afterwards that you didn’t find anyone worthy of your Breath. You don’t tell her that you include yourself in that. Free Time Choose two Actions. I will no longer be suggesting things, so it’s up to you to decide! Motions for the Next Council Meeting Reduce Tax on Idrian Trade - Coinspender Send Party to Search for ‘Talaxin’ - Kindsmile Previous Motions

Will be delaying this chapter a week, as otherwise the following chapter would fall on my birthday weekend, and I won't be able to write then :P. Also, I'm absolutely shattered this week. Everything happening all at once...

You could be, how are you to know for sure? :P. There would be disappointment, for the most part, that you have not committed either way. Having said that, it might also be something you can leverage into indicating opportunity, as you weren't entirely against it. If it's 50-50, Lawmaker gets the deciding vote, and your impression (could be wrong!) is that she'll always vote for the status quo. Votes don't pass unless it's a majority.

I'm afraid not, investigating for potential corruption among the Gods would very much be an Action.

Your read of the room is that Kindsmile's proposal is pretty evenly split between the two factions, and your vote may be the decider - Though of course, it's not technically you being the decider, as everyone votes simultaneously and secretly at the time. But it may come across as that if it's clear how everyone else is voting. And thank you both for your comments on Susebron, I was a bit concerned as to whether he would feel right. My read of him is kind of similar to Captain Carrot in the Discworld novels - A kind and honest soul, perhaps even coming across as simple since he won't have spoken much and his favourite stories are for children, but honest doesn't mean stupid.

Week 2, Day 7: Gods and Kings It is a surprise when you arrive at the Council in the early afternoon, and find everyone else there already, but no-one talking. Instead, there is a quiet atmosphere of unease, shifty glances, and the only noise the rustling of paper as Lawmaker’s Priest keeps everything in order. The reason for this is occupying the great marble chair. The God-King sits in his throne like someone well-accustomed to it, even though you must assume that is not at all comfortable. You aren’t quite sure what you expected from him, though it is unsurprising that he, too, is a ‘perfect’ example of a human. His hair is long and flowing, and he wears pure white robes which shimmer in a cascade of colours whenever he moves slightly. He sits imperiously in his chair, removed from the table before him. This makes sense; he is not one of you, after all, but just himself. And yet, as you take a chair out to sit, he offers you a small smile, and a nod, before returning to his affable expression. A glimpse perhaps into his true persona, rather than the carefully cultivated one he shows the general public. But despite that slip, the others certainly seem to be on their guard, though not fearful as such. You take a breath as the meeting gets underway. You already know, mostly, what people feel about your Motion, as you’ve spent a good amount of the last week talking to your peers about it, trying to gauge their interest and convince them to see things your way. It's your first ‘godly’ act to help the people of the city, and you want it to go well. Coinspender is against, naturally, as is Kindsmile. Fatespinner is uncertain, and her vote will likely depend on the arguments for and again. Quickfell is enthusiastic, as is Firesoul. Brightweave is also for the Motion. You are positive, overall, but anything could still happen, and you don’t want to count it as a win before the voting is over. The others are more curious. You’ve heard little dissent on Quickfell’s, even from Coinspender. It seems that it is a relatively innocent proposal, with little loss for a small gain, but one that appeals to everyone in some way - More money flowing through the city, more entrepreneurship, and all it costs is a short extension to some journeys. You suspect Quickfell is trying to build up some goodwill. Kindsmile’s is a more contentious issue. The reasoning seems sound enough, from what you’ve heard, but the problems as you can see it are removed from the change to the law itself. Potential for abuse, mostly, and the worry that it might encourage more Breath to be collected than is good or healthy for the general citizenry. Firesoul in particular is worried about what effect it would have on children and otherwise at-risk patients. Similar to last week’s meeting, there seem to be two blocs forming in the Council, or perhaps you’ve only really just considered that they are there. Coinspender and Kindsmile make up one, with Fatespinner as a loose member, and Firesoul and Brightweave are a second, with Quickfell sometimes with them. That makes you, to a certain extent and depending on the bill in question, a tiebreaker, and potentially able to influence one from each side. “We will begin with the Motion brought to us by Quickfell today,” Lawmaker says, apparently the only one unconcerned by the even greater god sitting with you. “Once a week, carriages will be forbidden from the centre of the city. This will allow the market to expand. A map of the proposed area has been drawn up,” she says, and a scroll is unfurled over the table. “Quickfell?” “Quite simply, there are other routes around the centre that carriages can take, so I don’t see that to be an issue. Allowing the market to expand will allow traders and craftsmen more space to show their wares, and make it more of an event,” Quickfell explains. “Minimal loss, for a good gain for the hard workers of the city.” “Does anyone wish to respond?” Lawmaker asks. She pointedly looks at Coinspender, who offers a weak smile and holds his hands up, and says nothing. “Then we shall vote.” The vote passes without incident, unanimous except for Lawmaker, who abstains. The God-King does not comment on the proceedings, nor does he vote, or even indicate that he abstains. “Motion carried,” Lawmaker declares, as her High Priest hurriedly scribbles down the results. “Next on the agenda then is a lowering of taxes applied to Breath sales. Kindsmile?” Kindsmile stands up, bows briefly but politely to the God-King, and then looks back to the other Returned. “We are all benefactors of this law, paying for a Breath each week in return for a longer life. Well, most of us,” he amends, gesturing at Fatespinner. “This windfall has often helped lift a child or family out of poverty. I simply think we should permit that to occur more often. There are relatively high taxes on Breath, and lowering them might result in more benefiting from this arrangement.” “Taking someone’s Breath… It is no easy thing,” Brightweave comments, his tone of sadness as he taps the table lightly with a finger. “Have any of us not felt that lingering guilt, that immediate regret at our own selfishness after taking one? It diminishes people, though they may never truly understand what they are missing.” “They know what they’re being paid for,” Coinspender replies, a tad gruffly. “Besides which, it is their civic and religious duty towards us. I hardly feel they have the worse end of the bargain.” “They are children, Coinspender,” Brightweave says, a bit sharply. “Pushed into this situation, and they have no idea what they are giving up, or for how much.” “Then this is a pointless comparison,” Coinspender says, grinning a bit at him as he dismisses the older god’s response. “We’re talking about proper deals being struck here between consenting individuals. Your heartstrings may tug at the idea of a child, and yes, I can understand that. But I doubt you’d feel the same about someone selling their Breath because they need the money, would you?” “This will still affect children,” Firesoul points out. “Even if you say that there are less moral issues with it for adults, it will still encourage parents to sell their children’s Breath. I would prefer to outlaw such a thing entirely, for the entire city including us, before we think about making Breath any easier to sell.” “And yet, if it provides children with an easier start in life, would that not be better for them?” Coinspender asks her. “Better food, a better life, all for something they won’t know enough about to miss?” “We can provide that without forcing them to sell a vital part of themselves, can’t we?” you ask, unsurprised by Coinspender’s shaking head. “We are a rich nation, I’m sure we’re all quite aware of that…” “The bulk of our wealth is in our citizens, not the nation,” Coinspender says. “We must rely on private enterprise for such a thing, such as the sale of Breath.” “Even if they don’t think they’ll miss it, Brightweave is right,” Quickfell mutters. “It diminishes people.” Firesoul nods with this. “Indeed. If it was just a reduction in a person’s ability to see colours, or hear tones of music, then there would be no real argument. However, Breath also works to enhance the body and the mind. I have seen more people in my hospice without Breath than with. The level of injury that is required to affect a Drab individual is small compared to those with Breath. Not to mention they are more prone to unhappy moods, which comes with a whole host of complementary problems. Removing an individual’s Breath is the first step in a spiral which inevitably leads to a shorter and less enriched life.” “And yet I’m sure children and individuals unable to eat have a long and happy one,” Fatespinner says, idly playing with a coin between her fingers. “It seems to me that the problem is not this proposal, essentially, but that some might be taken advantage of. Perhaps you should raise banning the sale of Breaths belonging to children next week, hm? And presumably the gifting from children, as well. But next week, yes?” “Indeed, this motion isn’t meant for such a thing, but simply to grease the wheels and allow a greater flow, more freedom,” Kindsmile says. “We should have a light touch on the lives of our people, only intervening where necessary to keep things running smoothly, or for greater matters such as the defence of their lives.” “...I suppose,” Firesoul sighs, looking reluctant to concede that point. “I will consider such a motion for the following week.” “Then we will vote on this,” Lawmaker says. The votes are tallied and recorded, and then it is your turn. “Our final proposal this week is Songbearer’s, to create a method of ‘insurance’ to take care of Dockworkers. If you wish to explain, Songbearer?” “Thank you,” you say, drawing yourself up. “Simply put, I have observed problems where the less fortunate feel they are forced to work in order to survive, through illness and other problems. This can exacerbate these problems, cause others to be ill, or otherwise bring down productivity.” You hold back a small smirk as you see even Coinspender consider this. It’s a bit of a risk, phrasing it like this, but you believe the other faction will see through the colder words enough, and like the concept behind the bill enough to vote with you still. Certainly they seemed positive when you spoke before, and while between you there are probably enough votes to pass, it’s still worth trying to get the others on board as well. “My suggestion is simply that we provide for these workers enough that they can live and support their families while they are unwell, and so that they are hale and hearty when it is time to return to work. Minimal disruption all around, for a relatively minor cost.” “Obvious question,” Coinspender says, raising a hand when you’ve finished, “who will pay for it? Because there are two answers, and I’m not sure which I’d prefer, or at least dislike more. The country, or their employers? Well, even the country would end up putting the cost on the employers, as you’d be arguing for an increase in taxation.” “It would be on the employers,” you say. “Particularly since this would discourage them from working their employees half to death, and to take better care of them.” “I see. And what if a worker decides to simply take time off on their employer’s money?” “We will put in safeguards against that,” you respond. “Though what those are might be best left to the priests, as they will need to organise checkups for example.” “Or they could just fire them,” Fatespinner says, amused. “Then we’re back to the start again. Safeguards against that too, I assume?” “This isn’t meant to be a way to empower one side over the other,” you sigh. “It’s a new contract, an honest one between workers and employers. Something that provides them both with benefits, and puts them on more of an even footing, allowing them to work better together, with less animosity.” “I’ve heard enough,” Coinspender says. “Let us put it to a vote.” You grimace a little, and the votes are counted as the paper is returned to Lawmaker. You wonder if you said the right things, if you could have done anything more. What else could you have looked into and researched though in a week? Perhaps if you had spent more time talking to the other gods, or to the workers, or- You pull yourself out of the dark spiral of thoughts. All you can do is wait and see. As you leave the council, you find not your carriage there, but someone else’s. Pristine white, with a rainbow of a motif on the side that you vaguely recognise, and there’s a certain amount of mounting horror as you fully realise just who is waiting for you. One of the God-King’s Priests opens the door for you, and you have no choice but to get in. The God-King sits just as imperiously as he did at the Council, and you wonder just how long it took for him to learn to sit like that. It couldn’t be comfortable, even if he showed no signs of it being painful or awkward. The carriage starts moving as you sit down, and the path it takes is, thankfully, the one you recognise as to your home. Neither of you speak for some time, and you aren’t quite sure where to look. You wonder if this is how the populace feel towards you, as you feel towards the God-King. Thankfully, he seems more interested in vaguely looking out of the window than scrutinising your every move. “I like the current Court,” he eventually says. The voice is deep, that you expect, but there’s a degree of quietness to it. It’s not hard to hear though, every syllable chimes perfectly in your ears. “I’m sorry?” you ask, after a moment, as you realise you’re too focused on his voice to pay attention to his words. “The current Returned. I like what we have here,” he says, slowly looking over to you. He smiles, and it’s quite a kind face. It’s somewhat jarring, on such a powerful being. “They all have different views, but… I can believe that most of what they want is for the good of the city.” “I hope so, my lord,” you nod a little, still unsure. “You’d know them far better than me.” “I’m not sure I do… Siri says I should, but…” he trails off. The strength of his voice is replaced with a fondness, but also uncertainty. “I liked your proposal,” he adds, after a moment’s more silence. It occurs to you that while he speaks well, his words are almost… naive. Soft, maybe, would be a better word. Not the words of a king, but almost of a child. But there’s a strength in them regardless. The words make you grimace though, and grit your teeth. “I could have put it across better. I wanted them all to agree, but-” “You did what you could,” the God-King says, spreading his hands a little. “That is what matters, isn’t it? And while it would be nice, I’m glad there is some disagreement. It keeps you honest,” he said, and there’s a small smile there. No, not quite as naive as first thought, just… honest himself. An impossibility, from what you’d have imagined, from the information you could find on the Returned before you, but there it is. He must have been the only honest Returned in T’Telir. “I suppose so. We’re not going to try and sneak anything in if it’s being scrutinised,” you allow. “My lord, forgive my rudeness, but… why this?” you ask, gesturing to the carriage. “It seems… unusual, to say the least.” He’s quiet for another moment. “I said that I like the Court, and I do. It’s stable. Nothing big changes without properly talking about it. There’s usually two people who can be won over on any issue, and two to make the arguments. Which means that you are a little awkward,” he says. “Awkward?” you ask, taken aback by his words. “How?” “You had the potential to fall on either side, and disrupt that balance. I was concerned, so I came to see what kind of person you are. And… I think I’m alright with it.” “Thank you?” you say, not sure if that’s a compliment or not. The God-King smiles again. “I think you have our best interests at heart, and while you may seem to fall more on one side of the Council than the other, you seem to be a thoughtful person. And if either side was going to be more powerful than the other, I would prefer it to be Firesoul’s.” “That’s… good then,” you say. “I’m surprised Coinspender abstained though, as my bill was favoured by Firesoul’s ‘side’.” “I think you put it well, in his terms,” the God-King says. “But whether he abstained because he wasn’t sure, or was for it and didn’t want to lose face by voting for it… well, I can’t say. He is… an odd one, even among the Returned.” “Isn’t that true…” you mutter, with a sigh as you sit back. The carriage slows down as you approach your palace. “Good luck, and goodbye, Songbearer the Wise,” he says, as the door is opened for you. “May you continue living up to your title.” Council Vote ‘For’, ‘Abstain’ or ‘Against’ for each of the following motions: Lower taxes on Breath Sales – Kindsmile [X] For [X] Abstain [X] Against Create an insurance system for Dockworkers – Songbearer [X] For [X] Abstain [X] Against You may also suggest one proposal to be put forward for the next Council meeting, though you don’t have to. Depending on the nature of your proposal, it will change how other Returned feel about you slightly. Your preparation work just about saved you on the Council. Will it be enough? Tune in next week (well, two weeks, on the 12th :P) to find out! Also, first time I've had to write a canon character. Hopefully I did Susebron justice, even if Songbearer's opinion of him is kind of warped compared to what we know, as we've seen him in a more intimate light. Results

I'd be okay with this, as it's a sort of general 'prep' work, and you've already spoken to a number of people about it as well so know how some feel on it. I will probably fold the action into the meeting, so it's all kind of in the narrative.

Failure won't boost your stats, it's only if you reach certain criteria. For example, your first boost was for Spirit, for performing multiple Spiritual actions that would enhance your reputation as a God to the public. In general, your first boost would be easy, second would be harder, third is most likely impossible for more than one or two stats.

Week 2, Day 6: The Puppetmaster You visit Brightweave first today; it’s not as though the thief is going anywhere, after all. The god’s home is decorated even more than the others that you have visited, even the more lavish ones such as Coinspender’s, but in a more simple manner. It does not display intricate paintings, or deep and meaningful truths about a subject via a specific positioning of a statue, or anything along those lines. No, Brightweave’s home is decorated for children, and in some areas, by them as well. Bright colours are a major theme, simple but vibrant, interspersed with a variety of drawings and scribbles by children. Some are good, whereas could charitably be described as having a lot of effort put into them. But all are displayed proudly. Brightweave greets you with a genial smile as you arrive in his workshop. A sign on the door indicates that children are not allowed in. Bright cuts of cloth and skeins of thread jump out to your eyes, stored carefully away in glass-fronted shelves, and the smell of freshly cut wood reaches your nose. To the side, on his desk, various tools lay to the side, with a pile of sandpaper beside it. The floor a bit messy, wood shavings pushes to the side with a large broom. “Good morning, Songbearer,” he says. “Please, have a seat. You don’t mind if I work while we talk? I have a deadline to meet.” It’s the only seat, it would seem, as Brightweave stands at the desk. It makes it easier to accept his offer, and you sit down. “No, go ahead,” you reply. Brightweave turns back to his desk, and picks reaches over to select a block of wood. “What can I help you with, then?” he asks. “Nothing especially,” you say, though it’s not entirely true. But that can wait. “I’m just trying to meet everyone, really. Get to know the people I’m working with.” Brightweave nods. “That sounds like a good idea, yes. Even if it’s just once, it’s good to meet everyone in a situation that isn’t quite so… antagonistic… as the Council.” You smile a little. “It’s a bit of a roguh situation to meet everyone in, yes. But generally it seems like it went well enough. There’s only a few that seem to be contradictory for the sake of it.” “Generally speaking, there’s not too much dissent,” Brightweave explains, as she shaves a strip off the wood. “It’s only when things become expensive that we have some conflict. But money is always a troublesome issue, isn’t it? Tends to bring the worst out in people, I feel.” “It certainly seems like it,” you agree. “Though I think perhaps if it’s approached slowly, it might be more acceptable.” “Indeed, a cost is easier for the others to bear if it isn’t paid all at once,” he says, as another strip falls to the floor. He places the planer on the desk, and picks the wood up, turning it round to examine it. “I think it’s as much avoiding blame if things go wrong for as long as possible, though I don’t think any of us want to die, so… it’s inevitable, I feel. Which is probably a good thing, really. We shouldn’t be able to shirk our responsibilities by putting them off.” “Agreed. We should have strength enough in our convictions to stand by them. Though there is something to be said for changing things more slowly, I’ve come to think.” “Your current proposal isn’t exactly a slow start, I would have said,” Brightweave comments lightly. “It seems a fairly big change.” “Well… Perhaps,” you allow. “It’s a small part of a bigger change I want to make, to improve the lives of the poorest people. I just hate the idea of waiting longer for it to happen. Not when there’s people who would benefit now. It seems… cruel to say ‘please wait, I’ll fix it for the next generation.” Brightweave smiles. “I quite agree. I’ll be voting for your proposal, Songbearer. Perhaps with you around as well, we can make some real change for these people. Too often have we been outvoted on these matters.” “I’ll do my best,” you promise. “And I have other ideas too, longer-term ones. I was thinking about improving education too. Opening it up for more people. Something like...” You trail off. Something like what? The thought eludes you. Something from your past life, perhaps. “Something like...?” Brightweave asks, a mirror of your own thoughts. “Well, I would certainly agree with that. It would be a good route to getting out of poverty, and improving the fortunes of the country. Phrased correctly, I doubt even Coinspender could object.” He frowns. “Actually, no. He’d probably complain about it being wasted on the poor. Well, we can only see, I suppose, and run roughshod over what he wants if it comes to it.” The thought makes you laugh gently. “We can’t let him stand in the way of progress, can we?” “No, quite...” Brightweave nods. He takes some sandpaper, and begins smoothing the cut wood. “On a separate note though, how are you handling what comes after?” “After?” you repeat, confused. “Ah,” you realise. “It’s… difficult, to take a Breath. I understand why you go so far to look after them.” “I think we all have different ways of coping with it,” Brightweave says, pausing in his sanding. “Firesoul has her hospice, Fatespinner wagers hers against others… Coinspender justifies it by his own ego, I imagine,” he scowls. “Don’t forget what they sacrifice for us, but try not to let it rule you,” he advises. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to accept it, in time, rather than being consumed by the guilt. Or perhaps you’ve found it already, and you just need to hold onto that when the time comes. Either way, I feel it’s a good thing, Songbearer.” “It’s a good thing to feel guilty about this?” “Yes,” Brightweave says, a self-depricating smile just about visible behind his beard. “It reminds us that, for all our enhancements and worship, we’re still human.” Brightweave’s words remain in your mind as you make your way to the Palace Dungeons, the holding place for anyone who commits a crime against the Court. You are led down dark stone steps, black and imposing. It’s strange to see such a dull, dark place in the city of colour. You wonder if the God King even knows this place exists. You half expected him to appear as well, but you have grateful when he doesn’t. You don’t know how you would approach him. The prisoner is a drab. That much is clear when one of the guards has to point him out to you, in his dark clothes in the dark room. You simply can’t sense his presence, and after a moment it becomes clear why – A drab would be the perfect infiltrator into a Return’s home, hidden away from all the Priests and the god themselves. You make a small mental note to make sure your Priests and guards don’t rely too heavily on Life Sense to discover intruders. The guard lets you in to his room without much complaint, and steps away, clearly unworried to leave you alone with the thief. The reason becomes apparent quickly, as the thief is chained to the wall, suspended off the ground. His face has some colour to it, blotches of purple where he has been struck. He regards you with confusion as you approach, tinged with weariness. “What’re You doing here?” he asks you, eventually. “Well… I’m here to ask what you’re doing here,” you say. “Why try and steal from one of the Returned? Wouldn’t a wealthy merchant be a better target?” “’m not a thief,” he mutters. “Just wanted to look around. Didn’t want to take nothing.” “You broke into my home to have a look around?” You ask, a bit incredulous. You aren’t sure you believe him, but he seems sincere. “Wanted to see how the other half live,” he says, giving you a pained grin as some fire seems to return to him. “See what our money’s paying for.” “Seems like a big risk to take, just to see that,” you say. “I’m willing to believe you weren’t trying to take anything, but that doesn’t seem like it would be all of it.” “Well, it is,” the man says. “Sorry to disappoint.” You look at him for a moment, considering him. “What’s your name?” “You think I’m going to tell You?” he asks in response. You shrug. “Well, no matter. I was just going to say though that the punishment for theft,” you speak slowly, and deliberately, “is usually a fine. Perhaps a flogging, depending on the amount. But stealing from a god? They’ll do something more permanent. The loss of an ear, maybe your hands.” He stiffens as you speak. “W-what’s Your point?” he says, his voice hitching a little. “I’m willing to let things go – entirely – if you help me out too,” you say, gently. “If there’s something bigger than this, I’m far more interested in that than a simple thief – or trespasser,” you add before he can protest. You let the offer sit for a moment, and the silence drags as he considers your proposal. “...I’m no snitch,” he eventually says. “All I ask is information,” you say. “I’m sure I can find more on my own from there.” “...Alright,” he says, sighing a little. “Alright.” You call for the guard and, despite his hesitance, he follows your instructions and undoes the prisoner’s bindings. The thief ignores the glare from the guard as he massages his red and inflamed wrists, from where the iron bit into him. He’s marched outside the Palace by the guards, and you follow behind. “So?” you ask, when you are left alone again. “...” The thief sighs. “Look. I was hired to find something. A box, no idea what’s in it. Was described as about this big,” he says, stretching his arms to about half his height, and wincing as it seems to cause him pain. “Who hired you?” you ask. He raises his hands. “I said I wouldn’t tell, and I won’t alright? That was our deal. Just… someone’s asking this stuff in the docks. Someone with money. You want to find out more? Make some inquiries there.” He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his damaged trousers. “Very well then,” you say, when it becomes clear he won’t say any more. “Thank you for your help. If you want my advice though, I would suggest a different line of work.” “What, like being a god?” he asks, and while the tone is sarcastic, there’s a scathing edge to it.” “Perhaps you have a point,” you admit, wincing. You aren’t sure if you can criticise to heavily when your life was handed to you. “Still, I advise you to lie low for a little. I wouldn’t want any questions I ask to be traced back to you.” “I wouldn’t want that either,” he says in agreement. “Don’t worry, I’m not an idiot. I’ll keep my head down.” You nod. “That’s good then. Good luck, and take care.” The man scoffs a little and heads off, giving you a dismissive wave as he goes. You chuckle a little and head to your carriage, intent on finalising your preparations for tomorrow’s Council meeting. Your thoughts on the journey back home are entirely occupied by the information he gave you, though. Someone thought you had a box of some kind, and was willing to hire people to scout it out. You have no idea what it could be, or how it would have come into your possession if you do have it, but clearly it’s something important. I'm a bit ill, but let's get this back on track :P. The plot, hopefully, thickens. Font is all a bit weird though, so if anyone knows how to fix it, please let me know. Internet has now been sorted out. Turns out that I could go with my current provider, the cable I needed had just fallen down the back of the bookcase and couldn't be found, so that's all sorted out now :). So much effort though... I am planning on posting the next Day in two weeks time on the 22nd or maybe on Monday 23rd, as we will be entering the Christmas period and things are all over the place as I'm sure you all know. I will the plan to post the following one on January 5th. Council Once a week, proposals will be put forward for debate and then voting. Each other Returned has things they favour, things they dislike, and things they are indifferent about. Your ability to convince people to vote the same way as you will be dependent on your Influence. You can also now use your visits to other Returned to convince them to vote for a proposal you put forward, using your Charm, or just to gauge their opinions on next week’s proposals. Bear in mind that while you can vote for, against or abstain from any or all of these proposals, other Returned may take offence if you vote for a proposal they dislike, or against one they like! The proposals are presented below, but there will not be a vote until the following Day. Proposals up for the next vote: Install an ‘insurance’ system to take care of dock workers while they are unable to work - Songbearer Lower taxation on Breath sales – Kindsmile Forbid carriages in the centre of the city on one day a week, to allow a grander market - Quickfell Free Time What will you do tomorrow morning? Select one. [X] Visit Quickfell the Digilent [Charm] [X] Visit Fatespinner the Fortunate [Charm] [X] Visit Firesoul the Merciful [Charm] [X] Visit Coinspender the Generous [Charm] [X] Visit Kindsmile the Cordial [Charm] [X] Visit Lawmaker the Honest [Charm] [X] Visit an Area of the City [X] Something Else (write in with your suggestion) Results

Guess who mucked up their broadband and got the only incompatible service provider for his new flat? Mind, I also forgot a mouse for my computer, and a charger for my tablet, so there's quite a few problems, but the internet isn't one that can be fixed relatively quickly by a megacorp :P. So yes, I'm afraid there won't be a new chapter again today, due to the various problems I've caused for myself while moving in. On a brighter side though, flat seems quite okay, no real problems there. Quiet area and out the way, close to work, etc. So that's good.

Sorry, going to have to delay another week here - Been very busy, as I'll be moving next Saturday. Hopefully I'll get a new chapter up on that Sunday, if not it will be the Sunday after.

*takes notes*

Who do you think I am, Bioware? >>

Charm refers to appearance and personal charisma, in this system, whereas physique refers to strength, dexterity, etc, and is more about musculature and build. Besides, how do you know the thief is into that?