Kasimir he/him Posted November 21, 2015 Posted November 21, 2015 As far as I can tell, being commander just gives me a huge MP boost. I was thinking of sending some reinforcements to House Wair and Izenry since that's where the rebellion started (so that's probably where the rebellion will be the strongest), and setting up a defensive perimeter around The Central Dominance. If everyone defends their properties, etc- the rebellion should lose momentum and I'll send out the army to stamp out the remnants. That sound ok, Kasimir? :B Roger that, 1337 Commander. Sounds like a plan to me. 1
DeathClutch19 he/him Posted November 21, 2015 Posted November 21, 2015 Action 2: Give bread from the bakery to the skaa Why: Improve skaa reputation
Haelbarde he/him Posted November 21, 2015 Posted November 21, 2015 Action 1: Have a child (M:Fergus, F:Fanae)
TheMightyLopen he/him Posted November 21, 2015 Posted November 21, 2015 Action 2 Trying for an Heir. Male(Chrom) Female(Sumia)
Quiver he/him Posted November 21, 2015 Posted November 21, 2015 Action 2: Sending a set of the collector coins I minted to House Nohr These special commemorative records of Final Empire History are selling out fast! Be sure to picks yours up today! 1
Creccio he/him Posted November 21, 2015 Posted November 21, 2015 (edited) Action 3 Send 3 Wealth to Steel Ministry to improve standing And I want to showcase the different Casino games to be played on my Casino in the Ball Edited November 21, 2015 by Creccio
Wyrmhero he/him Posted November 21, 2015 Author Posted November 21, 2015 The Turn is over, and guess what? The Skaa army is increasing in size, starting to overrun the edges of The Final Empire. Even in the towns and cities, crime is on the up, as dissidence is spread amongst the populace. The Skaa army is Strong compared to the average military strength of the players. Once again, if I do not message to inform you within the next two hours or so, then one of your Properties is under attack. I will require a response as last week from you, or I shall assume you send 'adequate' forces, or as much as you can if you can't muster that much. 6
Wyrmhero he/him Posted November 22, 2015 Author Posted November 22, 2015 (edited) This write-up done by Kas for me, due to time constraints. Generation 5: Turn 3 It was a quiet night, in Tremredare. Weary canalworkers and artisans and glassblowers mingled in local watering holes, while other craftsmen went home to their families. In a few dark alleys, footpads lurked, keeping an eye out for easy victims: a lone craftsman, taking an unwise shortcut, a canalworker unaware of her surroundings, a few inebriated artisans… Wyren Heron gazed down at the flares of light in the darkness and nodded, to himself. It was a quiet night, in Tremredare. One might be forgiven, he thought, for considering it to be just like any other night. Some glimmers of light from the glassworker’s sector suggested a few mosaicists were working late into the night. Other lights marked streetlamps; a patch of darkness on the other side of the city were the slums. Most of the street hawkers had already sold off their fried tubers, had packed away their carts and gone home for the day. The City Watch were out on the streets, beginning their rounds. Somewhere, the night watchman cried out the hour; his voice amplified by a speaking-horn. A few seconds later, the Great Clock struck the hour. Wyren Heron stood up, and clicked his pocket watch shut, slipping it back into the pocket of his waistcoat. A quiet night. An ordinary night, perhaps, or so one who wasn’t Lady Jocasta Heron or one of her trusted adjutants might think. But it was not going to be a night like any other. Across the city of Tremredare, squads lurked in the gathering darkness, waiting for the appropriate signal. “Stop that,” Watch Sergeant Alun ordered, wearily, watching the latest recruit continue to glance nervously around her. “By the Lord Ruler, girl, you’d think we were preparing to go after Lady Heron herself.” An uneasy silence met his words. “Well, Sarge,” one of the squad said, tentatively, “I’m not sure about this, actually…” Alun whirled on him. “Oh? Well, tell me, Cailan. You signed up for this job. You signed up to police the city of Tremredare.” “Exactly, Sarge,” Cailan said. “I mean, I signed up to keep my family safe. I didn’t sign up to be sticking swords in people for saying that we’re better off without them nobles.” “And you think those people care about you or your family?” Alun wanted to know. “You think your family don’t need protecting from these fanatics, is that what you’re telling me? You think they wouldn’t put your wife or child in front of them, if it meant achieving their ends. Is that what you’re telling me?” “Well, er, no, I guess…” Cailan muttered. “Sarge, it just don’t seem right. We’re supposed to be protecting the people of Tremredare, not turning on them for something they haven’t quite done. It’s just talk.” “You heard what happened in the mines,” Alun retorted. “It’s never just ‘talk’, Cailan, not in these times we’re living in.” He stared hard at the rest of the squad; each one in turn. “Anyone who doesn’t like this is free to come to my desk at the Watch station after we’re done here and to sign their release papers. I won’t hold it against you.” He softened his voice a little. “I know all of you. I like you. You’re good people, and what we’re doing here is hard work. You want out, I don’t blame you. But someone’s got to do it, and right now, it’s us, because we signed up for it. Right now, across the city, there are many other squads gathering, some of them soldiers, and none of them are going to be safe if we don’t do our job. Remember: we’re not just getting rebels. We’re taking off killers and footpads from the streets. That’s policing work. That’s making Tremredare a safer place.” Cailan swallowed hard, and nodded. “All right, Sarge,” he said. “Guess I’m in then.” Alun looked around, at the rest of the squad. “Any more worries that need coddling? Because I’m not here to stand around and talk all night.” Quiet laughter. “No Sarge, we’re good.” He heard the night watchman cry the hour, and nodded; mostly to reassure himself. It never did to show the men how worried you were, or to admit to it. A job was a job and it needed doing. It wasn’t his place to decide how appropriate it was. Besides, thought Watch Sergeant Alun, Tremredare had been getting more dangerous by the year. Time was, a man could go down to the inn without getting mugged, stabbed, or thrown into the Conway. He shook his head to clear it of such dark thoughts. The Great Clock sounded, then. “All right,” Watch Sergeant Alun said. “Since none of you’ve decided to back out, let’s roll. Remember, we’ve got a job to do. That’s all there is to it.” Across Tremredare, as the Great Clock sounded the hour, squads moved into action, breaking down doors with practised efficiency. Wood splintered and then broke entirely as soldiers and the city watch alike burst into dwellings, workshops, and taverns, and proceeded, with ruthless efficiency, to kill everyone who had been identified as a potential dissident or who was a known criminal. On the streets, lurking footpads bolted in alarm as they encountered squads of hardened soldiers, only to be cut down in the street mercilessly. In other places, where genuine dissidents met and whispered about the possibility of rebellion, they watched in alarm as soldiers broke down their door, and attempted to fight back. But the operation had been meticulously planned, and skaa armed with clubs and the occasional weapon were no matched for the well-armed men of the city watch and actual soldiers of House Heron. Some opted to flee; archers posted on the rooftops or within neighbouring dwellings simply shot them down. There were rumours of Heron Mistings among these forces; some of whom could chase down their prey by identifying traces of metal about their person, and simply cutting them down with a shower of flung coins. All across Tremredare, wood splintered. Skaa died, fought back, tried to flee, and died. Some of them were innocent. Some of them were not. Blood ran in the streets and the gutters. Bodies were stacked, like cordwood, meant for removal later on. They had to be carted off. That morning, the sun was a bloodied disc in the sullen skies. Wyren Heron listened to the cries and watched the flares of light in the darkness. The purge of Tremredare, he thought, had been a brilliant order. It also required a certain degree of callousness: a certain degree of ruthless disregard for human life, for collateral damage. You had to think in that way, to order the execution of all possible dissidents and criminals within Tremredare, from pickpockets caught in the wrong place at the wrong time to footpads and armed robbers and murderers and serial killers and all other sorts of wrongdoers. You had to not care, to choose the most efficient option, no matter the cost. Jocasta Heron had all of that in spades. Kyrus Heron, her father, would never have ordered such a purge. He knew that, from having worked with the previous Lord Heron. Kyrus was fundamentally more reactive, choosing violence only as the inevitable response to a rebellion in Tremredare that had cost him the life of his brother. That had almost killed his daughter. Wyren’d written that into the House histories, as well. What did you say, about such events? Did you consider Jocasta Heron a monster, or excessive, or simply over-zealous? They were, after all, only skaa. He sipped at his tea, and held it up in a silent toast to a spectre long departed, and said, “Well, Kyrus, did you ever think about that before you made her your Heir?” There was, of course, no reply. He hadn’t expected one. Generation 5 Player List little wilson - Allera Wilson Unodus - Victel Uethorn Adamir - Thay Farrsolin Venture Mistborn - Anatax Orielle Orlok - Nestor Tekiel Aonar Faileas - Kyrien Izenry Quiver - Samden Queade wblk - Irim Wair phattemer - Vulco Erikell Araris Valerian - Hadrian Penrod Shallan - Coanti Vinid Haelbarde - Graeth Heatherlocke Mailiw73 - Kler Zerrung Kasimir - Jocasta Heron Winter Cloud - Dieter Venture IrulelikeSTINK - Phil Domos TheMightyLopen - Ophelia Nohr polkinghorndb - Elijah Lignum DeathClutch19 - Soren Jormundgand Creccio - Inor Haze Olimac Sogaple - Cade Malroux Generation 5 Turn 3 has begun! It will end on Friday 27th at 6PM GMT. That's right, I am reducing the time in a Turn. This is because it's taking much longer at the moment to do the turnover than I would like. I will also be calling a halt to the game for a while at the end of the Generation, due to Christmas and all. Edited December 6, 2015 by Wyrmhero 5
Kasimir he/him Posted November 22, 2015 Posted November 22, 2015 (edited) Jocasta Heron #1: A Knife in the Dark Jocasta stalked towards the barricades at the intersection between the glassmaker’s section and the Tremredare marketplace. It was dark, so she burned tin, being careful not to look at the flares of light that were the fires raging in different sectors of Tremredare. The last thing she needed was for the light to steal away her night vision.The tiles of the roof were slippery beneath her feet, but she strode on, confident, weaving her way past chimneys towards the glassmaker’s section, burning iron and steel, using the passing gratings and metal fittings to give herself boosts of speed.Her father had been worried about policing Tremredare. As Jocasta saw it, the skaa had made a decision to rebel against their betters. They would simply have to be put down; to remember who was in charge, before they got further ideas. You couldn’t be too gentle with skaa, Jocasta thought, grimly. Her father had tried to weave a fine line between kindness and strength, and look where it had gotten him: full-blown insurrection in his city.If there was only one thing the skaa understood, it was strength. They seemed to mistake kindness for weakness, and Jocasta was determined to demonstrate that not all Herons were weak.She reached, at last, the intersection in question, and looked down, letting her iron and steel lapse. A band of skaa held the barricades, wielding improvised spears which consisted of glass crudely bonded to lengths of wood. She frowned down at it. It was almost as though they’d expected to go up against Allomancers, and while that would have been the natural conclusion Jocasta would have drawn, she knew as well that most of the forces within Tremredare were simply soldiers. Glass weapons fared badly against steel. Why didn’t the skaa know that?Because they are skaa, Jocasta thought, and skaa seems to be synonymous with ‘stupid.’ She scanned the area, checking for hidden archers and slingers, and smirked to herself as she noticed two dark figures on the adjacent roofs. Slingers, then, most likely. Either way, they wouldn’t be there for much longer.She burned steel, and the world burst into a tracery of blue lines once again, connecting her to all the metal in her immediate environment. Some of them burned brightly; others were dimmer, more faded. She wasn’t interested in manipulating them. Instead, she merely gazed along the directions of the Steelpushing lines, checking for additional movement and figures that she might have missed.There. There was a third figure, in the perfect position to cover the two on the adjacent roof. Jocasta smiled, and shook her head pityingly. Skaa, she thought. Clever, sometimes, but just not enough.She reached into her coin purse and drew out a handful of clips, holding another in reserve. The fistful, she flung into the air and then, still burning steel, shoved.The coins whipped through the air, and tore through the two figures standing watch on the roof. They cried out, and collapsed.The third figure glanced about sharply, but Jocasta was already hurtling towards him, pushing off against a metal grating affixed to a building to sail over the gap between roofs, rolling to absorb the impact, and then Steelpushing her palmed coin through his throat before he could react to her.As the skaa collapsed, gurgling helplessly, Jocasta slit his throat with her knife, just to be certain.As the bodies slid off the sloping roofs, Jocasta could hear exclamations from below. That, she thought, was her cue. Still burning steel, she stepped off the edge of the roof, slamming the lines that led below with a powerful Steelpush that slowed her descent.She hit the ground with a crunch; flared pewter to prevent herself from breaking any bones, and rolled and came up to her feet, glass knives out. She cursed, quietly, in her head. One of her glass knives had broken: it must have taken the brunt of the impact when she fell. The other had a crack running through it, damaging its integrity.Still, she wouldn’t let her frustration show. The skaa didn’t need any encouragement.Her steel was almost depleted from that flare, but her iron reserves were largely intact. She still had pewter, and tin, and brass and zinc. She burned brass as well, ruthlessly soothing away their fighting spirit, their will and desire to resist. At the same time, she charged the first skaa, turning aside his improvised spear with a knife-hand block, and whirling to slash open his throat with her glass knife.Nobody brought a knife to a spear fight, but Jocasta was Mistborn, with all the pride and power that entailed. She wasn’t about to give in.She stomped down hard on the dying skaa’s wrist to force him to relenquish his grip on the spear, and then wrenched the spear free with pewter-enhanced strength, using it to fend off a series of clumsy, battering strikes from the rest of the band.She flared brass, all this while, dampening their resistance, even as she beat aside a second skaa’s attempts to parry and ran him through with the spear, feeling resistance give as glass stabbed straight through the man, carrying the shaft of the spear with it.She let go, picked up the next spear.An Ironpull sent her flying towards a third skaa; she crashed into him, sending him to the ground, as she rammed her dagger through his throat. Too bad for him; he was in open rebellion and had the stupidity to carry metal about his person.Three down.Burning the last of her steel, Jocasta cast about for the lines that led to her coin purse. In that brief lull: the other skaa hung back, stunned. It was a combination of the ferocity of her attack, and the strength of her Soothing, she decided.She found the lines, burned iron again, and yanked on them, sending them flying to the remaining skaa in a deadly shower of metal projectiles.At the same time, she snatched up a bar of iron, burning pewter to enhance her strength, and swung it about. With a crunch of breaking bone and in a welter of blood, the skaa who had been trying to sneak up on her--who might have succeeded, if he hadn’t been carrying metal on him--collapsed. With a second blow, she crushed his windpipe.She glanced around her.She heard the cries and whimpers of dying skaa, but saw no further immediate threat. So, Jocasta strode over to the barricades and began hurling aside the broken wooden furniture, attacking it with her iron bar, until the way was clear again.Now that the barricade was open, she’d have to return and get a squad of soldiers to hold this street, before the skaa attempted to take it once again.They’d never learn, Jocasta thought. You’d have to teach them, to bloody them so badly they never dared overstep again.She shook her head, flung aside the dented bar, its purpose now served, and strode off into the night, down the street fallen eerily silent, punctuated only by the sounds of the dying, the mists swirling about her. Jocasta Heron #2: A Spy in the House Jocasta paced the worn carpet of the study; once her father’s, now very much hers, his belongings taken away and put aside in boxes to be sorted through when she had the time to deal with the matter.It was one thing to inherit the House seat in these turbulent times. The sparks her father and her had worked to put out in Tremredare seemed to have been part of a greater pattern across the Final Empire, and now the skaa were turning on their betters and taking up arms, and marching against them.It was the world she’d inherited, and she meant to see her children inherit a better one. A more stable one, at the very least; a place in which cities could grow and expand without fear of violence.“Well,” Wyren said, wryly, “I suppose this was rather unexpected.”She disliked Wyren: he was too soft, Jocasta thought, too willing to make snide jokes and comments rather than to bend himself to the task of working actively to help the House. But her father had entrusted him with knowledge of the various Heron properties and finances, and he made himself...useful, and so she used him, because it was foolish to not do otherwise.And perhaps she was being unfair. Wyren Heron loved his tea; all the soft creature comforts of civilisation, as he put it, but he was useful, and he was undoubtedly more bent towards numbers than she was. They needed logistics, organisation, and planning, just as badly as they needed a better way to enforce stability in the Western Dominance and across the Final Empire.“I suppose it is,” Jocasta said, but she had seen some of the correspondence; yellowing and dry and dusty on her father’s desk. She’d bundled them away in a box, but slipped the relevant ones into a folder. Communication from several different Houses, on the matter of intelligence received. She was not the first Heron, she thought, to deal with spies and the question of them. “Yet here we are, with a problem. I am rather minded to send him back to his employers, with his throat slit.”Wyren raised an eyebrow. “Antagonism?” he asked, mildly. “Probably not the wisest response, in such times.”“And sending spies into another House is?” Jocasta wanted to know. “You are right. The enemy is out there--” she gestured out the window, towards the thronging streets of Tremredare. “--Rather than between Houses. Yet they chose to send a spy into House Heron, like a thief in the night. And you think the response inappropriate?”Wyren shrugged, gracefully conceding the point. “Nevertheless,” he said. “I feel it unwise to act excessively towards the spy. We are, as you say, dealing with an enemy that has not coalesced: skaa dissidents are everywhere, including, in our own city. It is difficult to take to the field against them, though word has come that they are at the borders of the Empire. What good will it do if you excessively antagonise another House at this point? We are ill-equipped to fight a war on two fronts, as you should know. And perhaps this spy could be...coaxed, into serving as another asset for us.”“Bribing him, you mean?” Jocasta questioned. “Or emotional Allomancy?”“Perhaps,” Wyren allowed. “Gold, I have found, is rather more persuasive than talk of House.”Jocasta folded her arms across her chest. “You speak to the Lady of this House, Wyren. Remember that.”Wyren’s smile seemed just a little strained. “Of course,” he said, quietly. “I could never forget that. In any case, I was not speaking of ties of kinship. Blood, as they say, is thicker than water, after all.”“And gold?”“Either you trust me, or you don’t,” Wyren said. “Which is it?”Jocasta replied, “You have made yourself indispensible. You know that.”“Then I shall take that as a tentative sign of trust,” Wyren retorted, calmly helping himself to a pastry. “Of course, that doesn’t say very much about what we will be doing with the spy. I assume you do not appreciate my counsel. What then?”Jocasta thought about it. At last, she said, “I want him interrogated. I want them to pry out the name of his employer from his lips. I’ll do it myself, if I must.”“And then? Are we sending a declaration of war to their doorstep?”Jocasta shook her head. “I believe in strength, Wyren,” she said. “But I’m not stupid. We could feed him misinformation and allow him to live, but to what end? If House Heron does not plan military action, then misinformation is useless, at best, unless we have some major financial dealing. No. And I dislike the idea of weakness: of appearing to allow such an audacious action to pass unchallenged. Instead, we interrogate him, until he’s surrendered the name of his employer. Oh, and I want the names of the men who’ve contributed, directly or indirectly to finding this spy. I’m intending to reward them personally. It does not do to be soft in this world, Wyren. My father was soft, and look at what came of him and his city. I do not intend to make the same mistake again. But if Heron is harsh on traitors and oathbreakers, it will recognise and reward loyalists and be kind to its friends.”Wyren shook his head. “Very well then,” he said, reluctantly. “But what of the spy--what do we do, once we’re through with him?”“Execute him, publicly,” Jocasta said, casually. “I want to make an example of him, for any minded to spy on House Heron or to betray it.” She shook her head, sadly. “These are the times we’re living in.” Jocasta Heron #3: The Purging of Tremredare Jocasta Heron was well aware of Wyren’s disapproval when she ordered Tremredare purged. She just didn’t care.In the times they were living in, Tremredare was a pocket watch, reliably ticking down the minutes and seconds to disaster. She knew this. Her network of spies all brought back word of dissent being whispered, the skaa emboldened by rumours of the miner’s revolt, and by rumours of a rebel army that had begun to grow in the far-flung corners of the Final Empire.Skaa, Jocasta thought, disgruntled. There was, according to the missives and messengers that had come and go, some truth to these rumours. But she had to stamp out any hope that such a rebellion could succeed in Tremredare, before rumour-fed hope grew and she had a full-grown rebellion on her hands.She didn’t want to be fighting a war on two fronts, after all.She looked at the reports on her desk and came to a quick decision. It was, all things considered, a decision that had been building for some time in her mind. The reports of whispered rebellion were simply the final straw, as it were.“I’m ordering Tremredare purged,” she said.That certainly woke Wyren up from his immersion in those dry reports from different Heron businesses and enterprises located throughout the Final Empire.“Well,” he said, dryly, “I could have sworn you just informed me you wished to purge Tremredare.”“Yes,” Jocasta said. “Get me the Captain of the Guard and the Commander of the City Watch.”Wyren blinked; the only sign of surprise he’d shown. “You’re serious, then?”“I’m always serious,” Jocasta said. “Today just happens to be more serious than usual.”“There’s going to be a large amount of backlash from this,” Wyren warned. “There’s a reason our House has always attempted to avoid unnecessarily antagonising the skaa, or at least, to avoid acts of extreme brutality…”“Those who care,” Jocasta replied, “Won’t be left alive. As I see it, it’s only a matter of time before rebellion hits our streets. I’ve have ten reports, already, of skaa groups trying to gather support for a rebellion. And Tremredare has been unsafe for a long time: the Commander of the City Watch has routinely complained to me that it is impossible for a citizen to make their way down from the marketplace to the docks without getting, I quote, “beaten, strangled, mugged, stabbed, kidnapped, molested, or in some way, injured or harmed.” My father sought to increase the numbers of the City Watch, but he wasn’t solving the problem. Only the symptoms.”“And?”“He was too kind,” Jocasta said, simply. “So I order a purge, and the soldiers and city watch move in. They execute all known criminals, and potential dissidents. It’s unusual, but it has the benefit of preventing a future insurrection and at the same time, restoring order to the streets of Tremredare. And with stability in Tremredare, it may be possible to join our forces with those of the other nobles to restore order to the larger Empire.”“Well,” Wyren said. “It certainly sounds like a plan. Have you actually thought about what happens if they’re innocent?”“Does it matter? Mistakes happen, in wartime,” Jocasta said. “And really, they’re only skaa. So we kill one or two of them who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But in doing so, we make Tremredare a safer place, and are freed to commit forces to the larger problem. I see nothing wrong with that.”Wyren Heron was silent, for a long while. “True,” he said. Abruptly, he laid the reports down on the table. “I’ll get the Captain and the Commander, then,” he said, over his shoulder, as he left.-The Commander of the City Watch balked when she ordered him to purge the city.“Begging your pardon, m’lady, but, well, there’s lots of people who just talk, is all. They don’t mean anything by it.”“Talk,” Jocasta said, clinically, “Which can be construed as treason, Commander.”She watched him carefully. It would be unexpected, if the Commander of the City Watch turned out to be a rebellion sympathiser, but scarcely impossible. Fortunately for him, it turned out he was more a soft touch. Another man of the old school, she thought, like her father. They’d only grown up in times where policing was needed; only knew how to react to problems, not to solve them before them became problems.“Commander,” she said. “We don’t have time for this. They should know better than to talk. Right now, there are cities which are coming under attack. And for years, Tremredare has been an unsafe place. If it was just ‘talk’, the time for us to ignore it is long past.”The Commander twisted his helmet in his hands. “Very well,” he said, reluctantly. “I...I hear and obey, m’lady.”“See to it,” Jocasta said, to the Captain of her Guard. Captain Brighid nodded.“Have no fear, m’lady. I’ll ensure it’s done.”Brighid was reliable as they came: she’d come in as one of the low-level guardsmen and had ended up making a promotion to Captain because of her thoroughness and her leadership capabilities. More importantly, Brighid’s loyalty to House Heron was beyond question, and if Brighid was working with the Commander, then Jocasta had no worry that her orders would be carried out, despite their qualms.“Good,” she said. “I need this to be one coordinated sweep and purge across Tremredare, and I need this quiet. If word gets out, the point of the operation will have largely been lost.”“Understood,” the Watch Commander said, crisply.“Dismissed,” Jocasta said.As the footsteps of the retreating pair faded away into the silence, she gazed out the window of her study; at Tremredare.The city was broken, she thought. Years of Kyrus’s tendencies to spend inconsistently; first on healthcare, and then belatedly on law enforcement, had only made things worse. There was a rotting cancer in the heart of Tremredare and she meant to crush it utterly, before the disease spread and consumed first the city, and then the rest of the Empire.She knew what those reports meant.Deliberately, she picked up a report of unrest in Tremredare, studied it, and made a fist, crumpling the paper in it.Crushing it.There was only one response to the skaa, Jocasta thought. She’d learnt that lesson well by now. You had to be utterly, utterly merciless. Show strength, and they will crumble before you.Jocasta, unlike her father, was strong. If it's not already apparent, I'm playing a Heron who happens to be a major hardliner. This does not generally affect Heron's commitment to neutrality; however, neutrality does not, as Jocasta would say, entail weakness. It does not entail laxity in defending our interests, particularly when these interests are compromised. I am disappointed to discover a spy within House Heron. However, the matter has been dealt with to my satisfaction, and I will not further pursue it. I'll get back to nice, huggy and cuddling actions by next Generation. Maybe Edited November 22, 2015 by Kasimir 1
Curious Anamaximder he/him Posted November 23, 2015 Posted November 23, 2015 Action 1: Increasing beatings and decreasing food. Also searching skaa tenements for weapons. Action 2: Training more soldiers for House Orielle. Basically to have more power over the skaa.
Araris Valerian he/him Posted November 25, 2015 Posted November 25, 2015 (edited) Hadrian Penrod knew he was in trouble when the rumors began. Nobody would say it to his face, of course, but his spies knew what the skaa were talking about. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, really. His House had peace in the mist of a massive skaa rebellion that spanned the entire empire. A house on such friendly terms with the skaa surely had at least one member that had gotten more than friendly... But Hadrain knew that nothing of the sort was true. Any doubts of mixed blood in his house had been quelled when one of the Inquisitors had taken several Penrods in for questioning. If the Inquisition was looking for half-breeds and couldn't find any, then none existed, period. But something had to be done, or more of the Lord Ruler's monsters would be visiting soon. From the central square in Fellise, the city didn't look too different from any other city Hadrian had visited or read about in the Final Empire. Everything was coated by ash, despite the best efforts of the skaa to keep things clean. But as he lowered his gaze from the rooftops down to the collected population of the city, the real difference became noticeable. The skaa weren't cleaner than other skaa. But they had something in them that skaa elsewhere were missing, a will to live and to grow and to succeed, and see their families safe and healthy. And it was his job to see that things stayed that way. "Citizens of Fellise! Skaa and noblemen! I have called this gathering to address matters of importance through the Empire and within our city as well. The first matter is something my house had hoped to never address. You all know that the Inquisition forbids the union between skaa and nobility. House Penrod is aware of the injustice of this ruling, but is subject to the will of the Lord Ruler. The difference between our city and others, however, is that skaa women are not helpless, but instead protected by the law. That mean that they are equally liable for any forbidden children, just as a nobleman would be. Our city stands as a pillar of what the Empire could be, in another world. What it still could be in this one, even. But we are only one House, one city. We cannot change the world in an eyeblink, and even if we could the Lord Ruler cannot be defied. So though it pains me greatly to do so, I proclaim that House Penrod will actively seek out forbidden couples and serve them the death penalty. Neither noble nor skaa or either gender is exempt. House Penrod must remain in the favor of the Inquisition to continue to provide the life it does for the skaa. Any people that tarnish our reputation, by intention or by accident, are selfishly risking the safety of every person within Fellise, and that cannot be tolerated. "As for the second matter I wish to discuss, you all know of the atrocity that occurred at the military contest. House Penrod always forgoes active participation in public events in order to maintain unbiased and accurate records. And disgusted as we were by the murders that we were watching, we wrote down a detailed account of what happened, and any who wish to read what happened may read the account at our House. In memory of those skaa, whose lives sparked this rebellion, each year, one week shall be declared a holiday for all skaa in Fellise and other areas under the control of House Penrod. During that week each family will have a single day during which it has no duties and may instead remember the people who died during the Great Skaa Revolt. Thank you." Actions: Action 1: Who: Hadrian What: Giving a speech (above, important stuff in bold) Why: To address some current events and to boost the happiness of the people with a holiday Where: Fellise When: First Action Action 2 Who: Hadrian What: Accepting the terms of Wilson's marriage thingy Where: From Luthadel, by note Why: Because I have too much extra wealth and it can save actions When: Second Action Action 3 Who: Hadrian What: Trying for an heir Names: Aydin (male), Alera (female) Where: Fellise When: Third Action Edited November 25, 2015 by Ookla the Bother
Kasimir he/him Posted November 25, 2015 Posted November 25, 2015 Thalia Heron #1: Ships in the Night In a way, it was easy to understand why she’d taken to the water. For as long as she could remember, the waters had been a part of her life. In Luthadel, there were the canals that spanned the length and breadth of the Final Empire, bringing vital goods in and out of Luthadel; in particular, food, raw metals, even spices, fruit, and perfumes from the distant Dominances.In Tremredare, there had always been the silver snake of the Conway, running past the city, one arterial branch leading to the Tremredare docks.Thalia’d spent a decent part of her childhood watching the dockworkers load shipments from Tremredare--invariably, mosaics or some other form of glassworks or craftworks, such as pocket watches--onto waiting trading boats, and in turn, unloading shipments of metals and food and other goods from the boats.She’d spent part of it running through the city of Tremredare, but in the end, for all the city was full of alleys and twists and turns and gutter-pipes a clever child could shimmy up, it was always the water that called her.And then she had met her Uncle, Thales. He’d been a Prelan with the Steel Ministry, her father had explained, which meant he wasn’t really her uncle. Burning tin, she could see the similarity in their features.And he’d died.It wasn’t her fault, she knew, but how did you tell yourself that when you knew you’d turned your back on your uncle and gone off to warn your father as he was murdered?There was no way to talk about it, and Thalia just wanted to forget, so she buried it deep, and never said anything.Two years later, she hacked--awkwardly--her hair short, and slipped out of their manor in Tremredare. She was on the next narrowboat to Lansing by dawn; the master had needed an extra hand, and despite staring dubiously at her, he’d allowed that a runner would at least come more cheaply than another boathand.-The years passed.The first time she was asked for her name, she hesitated. She said, eventually, “Thales,” the name coming unbidden to her lips. And perhaps it was just as well: Thales and Thalia were similar enough. She imagined her uncle approving, perhaps, if he knew. But then, he’d been a prelan in the Steel Ministry, and she knew enough to suppose that the Steel Ministry wouldn’t approve of what she was doing.She’d just have to make them, she thought. She remembered an old conversation with her father (a touch of homesickness) about what the Steel Ministry would and wouldn’t accept. She’d just have to make herself highly useful to them.-From Lansing, ‘Thales’ was picked up by a merchant ship: the Fleetwing, that needed a cabin boy. He scrubbed pots and pans; aided the cook, carried food, stood watch, although he never burned his tin but hoarded it, carefully.He ran messages, familiarised himself with the ship: sails, lines, rigging; all the terms, he fixed into his steadily-expanding vocabulary. He scaled the rigging when the sails had to be trimmed, and even acted occasionally as helmsman in good weather.The weather at sea, however, was unpredictable; storms could produce wind and waves that lashed the Fleetwing, sending her shuddering and bucking, seawater swamping the deck and threatening to send flying anything that wasn’t bolted down.The Fleetwing brought goods from Lansing to the Farmost Dominance and back; it was a slow run along the coastline of the Final Empire, but potentially faster than the canals, ‘Thales’ was told. When he asked why, an old salt explained, “Canal’s still water, boy.” He scrubbed the encrusted salt from the deck, shaking his head as he attacked a particularly stubborn portion. “It runs a little in some places, but to get anywhere, you’ve got to depend on the strength of your arms, nothing more. The Fleetwing’ll outrun any of them narrowboats or trading boats in open water, long’s there’s a good wind in her sails.”“And if there isn’t?”The seafarer hawked and spit. “Well,” he said, eventually. “Then you best be prayin’ to whatever god you believe in that we’re favoured by swift winds and gentle seas.”For no reason that ‘Thales’ could discern, the other seamen, close enough to overhear, began bursting into laughter.-One run bled into another and another. Thalia had thought of going back home, but the thoughts began to fade with time. The wind tangling her hair, the roar of the ocean spray, the call of the gulls, the roll-and-pitch of a ship’s deck and the smell of brine wound their way into her life, strand by strand.Her time with the Fleetwing came to an end when they were making a run past the Southern Islands to the Remote Dominance. This, the mate had explained, was a haven for smugglers, pirates, and all sorts of outlaws, meaning they’d have to keep a watch on at all times and to dim all lights at night to ensure they weren’t spotted.“It’s risky,” he’d agreed. “But all life is risk, and you get the exotic fruits and spices from the Remote Dominance, but that means passing the Southern Islands.”‘Thales’ had stood watch, like the others, nervously peering for any sign of a sail emerging from the haze that had set upon the waters. He surreptitiously burned tin; he’d managed to use his wages to replenish his stock, even if a cabin boy could barely afford Allomancer’s tin.At sunset, he spotted the flash of black.“Captain!” he called out, urgently.The Captain strode up from where he had been conversing with the mate, picked up a spyglass, and scanned the horizon. He cursed as he saw the flash of canvas. “Get moving,” he ordered ‘Thales’, and turned about and began barking orders to increase the sail and hopefully their speed.The wind was against them; however, and the pirate ship knifed through the water and caught up with them before long. Now, ‘Thales’ could see the black flag with the leering skull more clearly as the pirate vessel drew up alongside, its deck teeming with men and women bearing blades and crossbows.“Look out!” the mate shouted, and ‘Thales’ barely threw himself to the side before a blur of metal streaked past him to smash into the mainmast. It had been a large, heavy ball: the mast splintered and cracked, toppling over, dragging down the rigging with it, even as more metal flashed overhead and ripped through their sails as if they were paper.Coinshot, ‘Thales’ realised. But how were they doing it?Most of the crew had axes or broad, cutting blades. ‘Thales’ had a dirk, which seemed pitiful in comparison but he drew it anyway, as they prepared to repel boarders at the Captain’s order.As the first grappling hook soared over the side of the Fleetwing to bite deep into the side of the ship, the mate was there, hacking it off with his axe. More soon followed; a thicket of steel, and soon after, the pirates were swarming over the side of the Fleetwing and onto the deck.A dirk against a sword or axe was no fight at all. Some of the sailors of the Fleetwing were falling, all around him, bodies riddled with crossbow bolts.A pirate swept up on ‘Thales’, his hair bound up beneath a bright orange kerchief, of all things. He smirked, and swung his sword.The world went black. Thalia Heron #2: Storm King The quartermaster woke her slightly before sunrise.He had been on watch this night, on account of needing a decent seafarer on watch. The clouds forming had only looked all the more threatening, and Thalia was determined to have experienced eyes on the situation. “Captain, you’ve got to see this,” he said, beckoning urgently.Thalia blinked and forced herself to her feet. She followed him out onto the open deck and towards the bow of the ship, and glanced out at the far horizon. Almost immediately, she knew what he was referring to. The normally-sullen sky had darkened further, approaching the colour of pewter, despite the streaks of red on the horizon that marked the rising sun. The wind was strong--not yet a gale--and she had to grip her hat to make sure it wasn’t blown clear off her head as well.The waters were beginning to get rough; a glance at the ocean showed an increasing swell, with a number of white caps.She made out the flattened forms of clouds, hanging low over the sea. The wind picked up a little, and now the Stormchaser was beginning to heel. “Karch,” she said. “Get those sails reefed.” She didn’t need to tell him why; the question wasn’t if there was going to be a storm coming, only when.“Aye, Cap,” he muttered--had probably already known--and left, bellowing orders to the crew. Soon enough, they had hands up the rigging, reefing the sails, so the Stormchaser slowed even further. Too fast, and the sea would toss them about like a child’s toy. Slower meant more control; they were too far from sheltered coves in the Southern Islands, and Thalia didn’t think they could outrun this oncoming storm. They’d just have to ride it out.She burned tin and glanced once more at the clouds.There were no signs of passing ships; in such weather, she wasn’t inclined to risk going after prey, anyway. The last thing any of them surely wanted was to be caught in the storm’s path while going after some hapless trading ship.The quartermaster drew up beside her; orders finished. “Looks like it’s going to be a bad one,” he observed.Thalia glanced at him. “For sure,” she said. “Stormchaser can handle it, though. She’s study enough.”“Might not be a good thing, in a storm like that. I’ve seen heavier ships ride it out. We’re better off outrunning her.”“I don’t know if we can, any more,” Thalia said.Karch nodded, reluctantly. That much, at least, was true. Abruptly, he turned--he’d seen the same thing Thalia had, out of the corner of her eye. “Uliv! What are you doing--secure the line properly! That thing goes loose in the middle of the storm, a man could go down with her!”Thalia alone remained, staring out at the storm clouds for a moment longer. Then she switched off her tin and headed towards the wheel. If the storm struck, they were going to need her at the helm.-The attack on the Fleetwing, Thalia would later learn, had been a matter of luck. The crew of the Far Raider had Allomancers: they had a Tineye on watch, and he’d seen the Fleetwing’s sails through the darkness.No wonder they’d been caught.The Coinshot on the Far Raider, too, had been worth his weight in boxings.Skaa Mistings, Thalia thought, surprised. She’d known they’d existed: had heard the skaa surgeon’s report on how the prelan had been killed so long ago (memory etched like an engraving on wood) but she’d been told since she was young of the injunction, and coming face to face with living evidence that the prohibition on relations with the skaa wasn’t as tight as she’d thought.Or perhaps it was because they were at sea; the grey area between landmasses where the Lord Ruler’s laws gave way to the commandments of the Captain of the vessel.She came to with a steady ache in her head. She burned tin, almost-reflexively, and then almost bit her tongue as the pain intensified and then settled back to a regular pounding.She wasn’t dead.She remembered the sword coming down; the pirate in question must have reversed it, so he’d struck her with the flat of the blade instead.It was dark, but her steadily-burning tin allowed her to see through the darkness, a little. From the looks of it, she was in a hold on the ship--probably the pirate ship--with a few other softly-murmuring men and women crowded into the same hold. She smelled sweat, blood, and even vomit, and the stink of many unwashed bodies packed tightly together. She recognised the closest man as the carpenter of the Fleetwing. They’d been taken captive, then.She closed her eyes, felt the rocking of the ship on the waves.“Thales.” She almost didn’t recognise that rasp of a voice, until she opened her eyes and looked. It was Ulf, one of the ordinary seamen of the ship. He’d always been nice to her, Thalia thought. He’d taught her her knots and all the other bits of knowledge that were essential to being a sailor.“Ulf,” she croaked. She didn’t sound much better herself. “What’s happened?”“Pirates,” Ulf said. A note of disgust entered his voice. “They took the Fleetwing, and left a complement of men there; they’re trying to salvage the ship for use in their fleet. Meanwhile, we’re guests on their ship until they can decide what to do with us.”“What do you mean, Ulf?”“Sell us, possibly,” Ulf said. “Some House Lords don’t blink too much at where their skaa come from if they can be obtained cheaply. Easy ways to get it past an obligator, too. Or they’ll ask some of us if we’d like to join them. Or they might put us in a small boat, cut us loose and leave us struggling in the sea to make it back to somewhere safe for days.”None of the possibilities sounded appealing. Thalia said as much.She heard the shrug as Ulf spoke; barely made it out with her tin-enhanced sight.“We’re taken by pirates now, lad. It’s not like we’ve got very many choices.”-Thalia heard timber creak and groan as the storm slapped the Stormchaser about; as she bellowed orders in the frenzy of activity--heard Karch shouting, too--as water slopped about the deck, as the Stormchaser rose and plunged on the waves.Rain lashed at the Stormchaser, and the wind whipped it into her eyes, further harming visibility. She was soaking wet and shivering, despite herself. Brilliant forks of lightning split the gloomy skies, leaving bright afterimages on her vision. Thalia made sure she wasn’t burning tin; the last thing she needed was to be temporarily blinded when she was supposed to be helming the ship through this dangerous patch of waters.All Thalia had learned of seamanship, she’d learned through hard-earned experience from years on the water. Now, as the Stormchaser rolled and pitched about but held, that experience was winning out. She kept at the wheel, turning the Stormchaser about so that it veered off a few degrees from the direction of the howling wind and rain. If they met the waves head-on, they would soon go swiftly under.Even so, as the ship pitched, Thalia grabbed on to a length of wooden rail--to anything that wasn’t the wheel; she didn’t want to be turning it by accident--to keep from slipping off the ship and into the waves.It was thrilling, somehow; to be so utterly at the mercy of the wind and waves. But the part of Thalia that had long been at sea, that was now a ship’s captain, was in charge. It was important to keep a cool head, to make sure that she did whatever it took to see that they rode out this storm unharmed.“Man overboard!” This cry came from Karch, and Thali--despite herself--burned tin and glanced out at the waters. It was hard to make out any form in these choppy waters, with the waves consistently slopping over onto the deck of the ship, with the wind and the driving rain turning everything into a blur, but her eyes fixed on a flailing figure, thrown off a distance from the Stormchaser.She recognised the woman as Ione; one of the best hands on the Stormchaser, always eager to be one of the first boarders on any attack.Obligingly, she turned the ship, trying to maneuver it closer to where Ione was struggling to keep her head above the raging swell.Already, Karch was tying a thick rope about his waist, perfectly calm. He tugged at it, making sure it was secured to the side of the ship. And then he leapt overboard, into the rough sea, the line tethering him to the ship and to safety extending fluidly behind him. For a moment, she was worried it would slip: the rope seemed to strain, as the ship groaned beneath the pounding of the waves. But it held.Thalia watched; her job was to try to keep the Stormchaser close, but to make sure the ship wasn’t lost because of two of the crew. In large stormy seas like this, it was important to scull the waves--to weave a path among them.With powerful strokes, Karch rode out the waves, paddling slowly but surely to where Ione struggled. As her head went under again, Thalia felt a frisson of worry; perhaps he was too late. But in the next moment, two heads broke the surface; Ione gasping for air, water sluicing off her face, and Karch, still as calm as though he’d just gone for a swim.“Reel them in!” Thalia called out, but her crew already knew what to do. As the Stormchaser rocked about, the crew were already hauling steadily on the rope Karch had established, pulling them towards the ship, lowering the rope ladder so Karch, half-dragging Ione, could finally scale the sides of the Stormchaser and return to safety among thunderous cheers.The danger wasn’t over. This storm was a strong one, and Karch immediately started calling out for the crew to return to their stations and adding invectives where more persuasion was necessary. Someone saw to Ione, bringing her below deck where she could recover in the crew quarters.Thalia was only dimly aware of that: her attention was focused where it should be--on the waves swamping the Stormchaser and making sure the ship sailed safely through these waters.The Stormchaser, Karch had rightly pointed out, was a brig, and better off outrunning storms than riding them out. But you did what you had to, and in the moment, enduring the roar of the ocean, salt spraying her skin, Thalia knew that she had been right: that the Stormchaser was just as capable of riding out the storm’s fury until it was thoroughly spent. Action Three: •Who? - Jocasta Heron, in her capacity as Lady Heron•What? - Jocasta is attempting to recruit 4 MP of soldiers.•Where? - In Tremredare, naturally.•When? - This is my third action for the Turn.•Why? - To increase security/law and order given these turbulent times; presumably, these would serve as stabilising influences within Tremredare/Heron properties, further reinforcing the 'stick'. 3
Mailliw73 he/him Posted November 26, 2015 Posted November 26, 2015 Action 2: Build another mine and blacksmith in Urteau for the purposes of making armor. Action 3: Upgrade the Skaa Housing and Training Yard.
Shallan she/her Posted November 26, 2015 Posted November 26, 2015 Public Action 3: Upgrade my Slaughterhouse Why: So I can get more money
phattemer Posted November 26, 2015 Posted November 26, 2015 Public Action 2: Search my house and keep for spies, most carefully. If I do find one, they will be interrogated, and once their house is discovered, dumped dead on their doorstep. 1
Creccio he/him Posted November 26, 2015 Posted November 26, 2015 (edited) Who: Inor What: Sell 2xAlcohol To Aonar and his House for 11 wealth When: 1st Action Where: Uhh... Somewhere? Why: money! Edited November 26, 2015 by Creccio
Unodus he/him Posted November 26, 2015 Posted November 26, 2015 Any requests for TLRs army? I'm also thinking I should probably have them secure something besides the central dominance, any suggestions?
Orlok Tsubodai Posted November 26, 2015 Posted November 26, 2015 I would suggest that you deploy it to keep order in Luthadel - there is no use fighting a guerrilla force with a perimeter defence - the enemy are on both sides of your line in the ground - you are far better off either providing concentration of force in Luthadel to the point where organised violence is impossible due to weight of military presence, or establishing a rapid response force within the central dominance if you are indeed set on protecting it - providing local superiority in each skirmish through, again, concentration of force, rather than dispersion giving the enemy the ability to gain local advantages, even when outnumbered on a grand scale. 1
Unodus he/him Posted November 26, 2015 Posted November 26, 2015 (edited) I would suggest that you deploy it to keep order in Luthadel - there is no use fighting a guerrilla force with a perimeter defence - the enemy are on both sides of your line in the ground - you are far better off either providing concentration of force in Luthadel to the point where organised violence is impossible due to weight of military presence, or establishing a rapid response force within the central dominance if you are indeed set on protecting it - providing local superiority in each skirmish through, again, concentration of force, rather than dispersion giving the enemy the ability to gain local advantages, even when outnumbered on a grand scale. Interesting... I'll see to it that the defense is reestablished as an area rather than a boarder. Anything else? I can pm you MP specifics if you have any ideas you want put into action Edited November 26, 2015 by Ookla the Wise
Unodus he/him Posted November 27, 2015 Posted November 27, 2015 No rp this week, srry x.x Action 3 Who? Relmolina in her capacity as House Lord What? Building a Theater for both Nobles & Skaa When? Third action Why? The main cause for the rebellion is that there is too many factories and not enough recreational properties. This can be easily remedied by providing property's where people can feel comfortable. Nobles & Skaa alike can hire the theater to use for performances (highest bidder gets priority), and anyone can bid for a ticket (highest bidders get priority). This should supposedly help build good relationships with my House and Skaa over time (as nobles get bored with performances, the theater can be used by skaa)
DeathClutch19 he/him Posted November 27, 2015 Posted November 27, 2015 Action 2: Continue giving my Skaa the bread from my bakery in the hopes of placating them until the rebellion is over.
TheMightyLopen he/him Posted November 27, 2015 Posted November 27, 2015 Action 1: Who: Lady Ophelia Nohr What: Giving my servants extra pay Where: Keep Nohr When: 1st Action Why: To show I appreciate their hard work and to gain my Houses' favor
Adamir he/him Posted November 27, 2015 Posted November 27, 2015 Action 1 Who: Lord Thay What: Sending a second shipment of bread to the skaa in Seran When: Action 1 Where: City skaa in Seran Why: To encourage the view among the skaa of House Farrsolin being magnanimous Who: Lord Thay What: Setting up a recruitment campaign throughout non-rebellious districts for the Farrsolin military. When: Action 2 Where: Non-rebellious skaa districts in Seran Why: To bolster the Farrsolin military Who: Lord Thay What: Trying for an Heir (Male name: Arin. Female name: Arin) When: Action 3 Why: To try and bolster the Farrsolin Allomantic line.
Aonar he/him Posted November 27, 2015 Posted November 27, 2015 (edited) Action for this turn: Action 1: Providing 11 Wealth to House Olimac in return for two shipments of alcohol. (Anyone think it's feasible to get your skaa too drunk to rebel? ) Edited November 27, 2015 by Ookla the Incorrigible
Orlok Tsubodai Posted November 27, 2015 Posted November 27, 2015 Cutting it really fine here. Sorry Wyrm... Action 3: What: Upgrading a bank Where: Fadrex When: G5T3A3 Who: Lord Tekiel Why: To maximise revenue from the building
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