Fantasy Eternal Conquest

[turtwigwins]

The World of Creon, Year 912

The entrance to the palace, once a beacon of Osynian grandeur, now stood as a haunting testament to the rise of Emperor Regis. The towering gates, forged from ironwood in centuries past, loomed ominously against the backdrop of the sprawling fortress walls. Carved with intricate patterns that once announced the fallen kingdom’s ancient history, they now bore sinister glyphs etched in crimson, glowing faintly with an otherworldly aura. In contrast stood the banners of the empire, the imperial dark star on a background of white.

A few paces away after the gradual climb to the summit a stone fountain of Regis triumphant upon steed had been placed. A full lifestyle replica which some would question being a gross embellishment of the Emperor's beauty if they had not seen him before. Upon reaching the statue a tall elf with grey skin and loose hair that fell to his shoulders stood before him. The red mark upon his forehead marked him as one of the priesthood. More apparent however, was the crimson and grey robes that spurned with a cyclical glow of glyphs and wards.

He turned towards each of the generals as they appeared individually speaking quickly with a nasally voice, “I am Priest Talmor, at your service my lord. Please follow me.” Falling in line behind him the ironwood gates were pushed outward upon his signal to the tower above by two minotaur-like demons, docile red in their eyes. As each general was guided through the gate it became apparent the nature of the capital. The scurrying bureaucracy and formalities of a far-reaching imperial court, but also the fear of the demons who walked among them. The previous tapestries of Osyne had been mostly burnt away, but a few had been brought in depicting the countryside of Odaden. Still the stark blankness on many of the walls, some of which the burn marks still stained, gave credit to the destruction that had taken place.

They were eventually led to the great hall, sat on either side were three rows of plush leather chairs arching upward. The room had a grand approach before arching upwards to a single throne. In the middle stood a single woman who stood observing the massive table that had been set out with the world mapped. The woman had piercing yellow eyes with long, raven-black hair that was tied up to fall down the right side of her shoulder. Her face had markings of red that had been painted, but the origin of such was a mystery to most. As each general came in she would give a nod returning to the board, but also would walk over to a set of four scribes she had set up in one of the chairs whispering words which led to a flurry of writing.

After the last general made his way into the room she finally gave an introduction, her hand touching the table that drew in detail the world. She spoke with a concise measured voice, “I am Princess Calista, his imperial highness will be joining us shortly. In the meantime speak your plans of conquest. I want a cohesive vision for when he arrives. Not squabbling peasants. Understood?”

Calista’s own vision of the meeting was one that was clear, however soon demonic servants would come out bringing refreshments and various small snacks. With scant seen in clothes, and sly smiles given to those they passed, the arrivals showed something of what this court was. An infernal court, one of sin.


View attachment Creon 912.png

 

[dikdik]

Sunlight, yellow and piercing, splattered across the edge of the horizon, just above distant mountains, as the darkness of night faded into streams of purple and blue before receding across the sky; trees rendered black and hollow in eerie light, fog dispersing the glow in the valleys. Spiderwebs, illuminated with condensation in the warm light, laced themselves about branches, wagons, supplies, and unsuspecting sleeping soldiers.

As he did every morning, Einar watched as it rose, a glimmer of warmth tickling his nose before he turned to his camp, the ritual complete, the contrast between the golden dawn and the rumblings in his mind. He returned to the horse, the only member of his army set to complete the journey to the palace. The only one that needed to. Einar rarely traveled alone anymore and leapt at every chance he had to do so. The others would maintain the camp before they set out soon to do Regis’ bidding and bring the resistance to its broken and burning knees. Hedinn’s dappled coat glowed with condensation that slowly steamed off him in the rise of the morning. With a huff, the war horse followed Einar to the edge of camp without prompting. Einar trusted him. Hedinn had been saddled by Einar’s favorite stable hand. The lad always saddled Hedinn quickly and the horse seemed to like him. That was enough for Einar.

Ensuring an early arrival would impress Regis and the other Generals. And so an early morning it’d be. Hedinn’s trot was quick, Breath of Eden clattering in the scabbard at the beat of the stallion’s hooves stamping on the dirt-turned-cobble roads through the valley, city, and to the palace. The power, the seething and awful power emanating from the palace upon his approach nearly caught Einar by surprise. He dismounted Hedinn in the courtyard, leaving the greatsword strapped to the horse as he straightened the shoulders of his cloak that draped over his black armor and took a sharp inhale of the air, strangely cold as it trickled back to his lungs. Though he’d visited the palace a handful of times before, the intangible coldness around it still struck him. Einar scratched the base of Hedinn’s braided mane right between his ears before giving him a pat on the shoulder and turning to march up the stairs, to perhaps his most important meeting since deposing his father.

General Jaddeth, Jaddeth, Jaddeth- It’s for you. Everything I do, it’s for you.

Einar’s gaze flitted between the statue of Regis and a sickly-gray elf, the robes wrapped about him pulsing and glowing glyphs. It was the priest, Talmor, guiding him through the gates and gutted palace. He muttered a greeting as he followed the elf. Einar hadn’t seen the palace before becoming a General of Regis’ armies, but could imagine it would have been quite a glorious sight before its destruction and ruin. Not quite ruin, however. Something perhaps more sinister. Corruption.

Tapestries illustrating the sloping hills and farming villages of the countryside were an addition Einar hadn’t remembered noticing during his last visit, though perhaps he was too busy taking in the rest of the palace to notice. Something about them seemed too idyllic, perhaps the colors were too vibrant or the landscapes themselves too calm. Didn’t the artist know that life in such a place was never as simple up close as observed from a distance? It was wrought with hunger, grief, and fire. The thinnest sense of rage crept up the back of Einar’s throat but was immediately repressed lest it betray his authority. Not here. Never.

Upon entering the great hall, Einar noticed that he seemed to be the first of the Generals to arrive. Exactly as he wanted. First impressions were important, and he especially wanted those he’d yet to meet to eye him with respect, admiring his drive and devotion to the cause of the Master.

 

[Abstracty]

Absent-mindedly stirring through the crimson wine in his golden chalice with a filigree and ornate silver spoon, Nanissis Yevro could hardly care less about the grand pathway towards the palace. Seated comfortably aloft an embroidered litter carried by a dozen guards in pristine Orsynian chestplates and purple tunics, the general took a small sip of his wine before growing tired of it, which caused him to spill the entire drink onto the neatly paved street. "I might just drown myself in the gardens fountains if this assembly is as dull as the last one!", he mused towards a tiny bird of paradise kept in a gilded cage placed on the pillow next to him. As his guards slowed their pace, the Elf finally decided to look up and - realizing that they had reached the main entrance - he yawned and stretched himself heartedly. "Well, I must say, you have been a rather acceptable travel companion. Perhaps we shall meet again.", he mused, as he opened up the bird cage, releasing the tiny creature to fly into the palace gardens or wherever it would see fit to travel.

Quite satisfied with himself and his act of mercy, Nanissis commanded two of the guards to lift himself up from his well-cushioned seat with just a flick of his hand, as if he was either to lazy or too arrogant to stand up on his own. "You are all excused for now. Do partake in all the wine I have brought, it is truly ghastly.", he instructed them as he swaggered his way towards the palace, strutting past the statue, but paying it a respectful bow after all. His posture became more regal and appropriate as he approached the priest and the accompanying demons. "What noble welcoming comittee.", he couldn't help but mutter to himself, just before he reached the priests earshot. "Nanissis Yevro, at yours and our grand Emperors service. But you knew that.", he greeted the fellow Elf, though he knew that kinship mattered little at this court. For now, Nanissis politely played along, as he was lead past the tapestries and into the great hall. Here, he frowned upon realizing that he had been just the second general to arrive, though at least he was about to meet someone he had wanted to get better acquainted to for a while now.

"General Einar Jaddeth as I live and breathe.", his voice was bold and warm as he approached without hesitation, extending a hand and expecting the other general to reciprocate. "And here I was, thinking it would be a dull affair. But with his eminence Talmor and the Empires finest Bastard around, how could it ever be dull?", he then stretched out his arms and lifted his shoulders to emphasize his rhetorical question in an exaggerated manner. Of course, he also noticed the lady waiting for them and controlling the scribes. He was more formal approaching her, bowing both cordially and elegantly towards her, before selecting himself a seat. As he lowered himself, Nanissis faked putting his feet up on the table, barely missing it with both soles before coming to a rest in a somewhat proper and somewhat slouched position, one elbow resting on his chairs broad arm rest. "I think they should bring out some delicacies rather soon-ish, don't you agree General Jaddeth?", he quietly and confidently started talking whilst they waited for the rest to appear. "What do you suppose they will serve us? Pickled flamingo tongues? Aurovelian autumn cider? Fine slices of goose liver in honey aspic? Personally, I am hoping for some laurel-wrapped ox eyes, but you never know...", he seemed to expect a feast, rather than a war room.

 

[dikdik]

"General Einar Jaddeth as I live and breathe."

Einar spent a few moments taking in the grandeur of the room standing and glancing about, rubbing anxious hands together, the angles and arches slinging themselves about the room served to draw the gaze upwards to a throne; surely not the only throne in the palace, though an imposing one. Each time he was confronted with the resplendence and magnitude of the wealth that existed in the highest places, he was equally drawn to Memory. Memory of digging potatoes, dirt caked into the fingernails of a starving child wracked with fear that the next blight would be the last, ribs poking through his skin with every wheezing breath he sucked up in the rain pouring down in sheets across the rotting field.

Disrupting the past was the arrival of an elf. A tall, thin elf with piercing green eyes adorning his angular face, wrapped in a shroud of hair black as shadows, complete with the corner of his mouth manipulated into a smirk, perhaps unconscious- a familiar elf. Nanissis. They’d met on occasion and their brief banter had entertained Einar, if not intrigued him. Nanissis’ collar graced the corners of his pointed jaw, the armor, perhaps decorative as opposed to functional though Einar couldn’t tell the difference in this instance, folded into the elf’s clothes as though they were one. The elf’s smirk leaked into a frown as his eyes examined the hall. Einar could only wonder why such a face would catch the elf. Perhaps it was his presence? Too many questions. He was glad when the elf broke the deafening silence in the room. Glad, though caught off guard at hearing his name run through Nanissis’ lips. Einar. A name he hadn’t heard spoken in a long time, save through the secrecy of the mouth of a woman he’d paid for. Though it was known by many, he preferred his last, only his mother’s, to be spoken. Nanissis held out a hand, unprompted and warmly, and Einar obliged him with a firm shake and half a smile.

“General Nanissis. Quite a while, it’s been. Jaddeth is quite alright. No need for all the formality.” He pressed a smile, somewhat forced with the “Empire’s finest bastard” comment sliding out of the elf’s thin lips. A bastard he was, and an accomplished one besides. He’d have phrased it differently, but chose to take the elf’s words as a compliment as the elf withdrew, bowing at the yellow eyed woman and sitting in one of the seats adjacent to the table. Einar found rest in a chair across the table from Nanissis, his shoulders feeling a bit tense as he sat upright, proper and tall, in the comfortable chair. The elf’s casual manner was a bit off putting. He was aware that Regis and the other Generals would be appearing soon?

Einar silently sucked in a deep, regulating breath as Nanissis rattled off delicacies he was suspecting may be present. Einar couldn’t read whether the list was of genuine expectation or of humor and fun. Either way, though he’d held charge for a few years now, he hadn’t tasted anything mentioned. Delicacies struck him as sardonic of his past, and his mother, and he typically refused to partake in them.

Crossing his legs, leaning into the chair, and intentionally placing his elbows on the armrests so as to appear as regal, powerful, indomitable as possible, “Bit boring kicking our heels until everyone else gets here. We could request wine while we wait?”

Whether he wanted the wine, this would be astute. Befriending another General without the others present. Perhaps baiting Nanissis into trusting him more than others. And trustworthy he was.

So long as our Intents align.

 

[K0mori]

Surrounded on all sides by figures of great renown and import, Munsie silently agonized on the proper timing for her first interjection - too soon, and she would be regarded as arrogant. Too late? Sheepish. She needed to speak up somewhere in the middle, just as she had initially shown up somewhere in the middle. For now, she merely located her seat and, with a gentle curtsy, greeted Generals Nanissis and Jaddeth. "What a pleasure it is to be in your company, gentlemen," she said with a rosy smile. She didn't bother introducing herself. If these men knew of her already enough to recognize her, it would be an honor, but if they didn't and didn't care to, then introducing herself unprompted would be embarrassing for everyone involved.

She then seated herself with a little hop, before wobbling her entire body forward and backward to scoot her chair closer to the table so she can have a better look at the map.

 

[Scatterbrain]

Aranea moved through the courtyard with an eerie grace, her many legs gliding silently over the stone. The intricate patterns on the towering gates caught her multiple eyes, a stark reminder of the kingdom that had once been, now overlaid with the dark glyphs of Regis’s dominion. The faint crimson glow of the glyphs cast an eerie light on her sleek, black carapace, making her seem almost otherworldly amidst the stark banners of the empire. As she reached the fountain, her attention flicked to the statue of Regis. The grotesque embellishment of his form on horseback stirred a deep, simmering fury within her. She masked it well but her psychic web pulsed faintly, the strands vibrating with her controlled rage.

Aranea’s mandibles twitched slightly as she fell in line behind the elf priest, noticing the docile red eyes of the minotaur-like demons pushing open the ironwood gates. The scene inside the capital was a blend of bureaucratic scurrying and the oppressive presence of demons, with the burnt remnants of Osyne's past starkly visible against the walls. As they were guided into the great hall, Aranea’s eyes scanned the room, noting the rows of plush leather chairs and the grand throne. It was apparent from the seating arrangements that her presence here was an anomaly, her rise to the position of general an unexpected surprise, yet one that she took great delight in. Aranea’s attention was drawn to Princess Calista, who stood by the massive table with a map of the world spread out before her. The princess’ unusual appearance intrigued Aranea, though she kept her thoughts guarded.

Aranea ignored the snacks and refreshments on offer while they awaited the last general's arrival, her many eyes fixed solely on the table. She knew that her ultimate goal lay beyond these immediate conquests, but for now, she would play her part, expanding her influence and biding her time.

 

[Twist]

As Jack approached the ironwood gates of the palace, his eyes widened slightly, a glint of fascination evident to anyone paying close attention. The grandeur and symbols of power around him were not lost on him, and he made no effort to hide his appreciation for such opulence. He had done his best to dress the part of his new position, his own interpretation of a general's attire, wearing a mixture of red and black that conveyed both authority and style.

When standing before the statue of Emperor Regis and encountering Priest Talmor, Jack offered a polite nod, his eyes lingering on the intricate details of the statue. He followed Talmor, taking in the bustling court and the demons among the bureaucrats with a look that combined curiosity and admiration. The burnt tapestries and the signs of conquest were noted with a hint of awe.

Upon entering the great hall, Jack's gaze swept over the plush leather chairs, the throne, and the world map with a palpable sense of intrigue. He acknowledged Princess Calista's nod with a respectful bow, his demeanour showing a mix of humility and genuine interest in the grandeur around him.

Other generals were already gathered, each a unique figure. An elf with a regal bearing and a perpetually self-satisfied expression stood to one side, clearly basking in his own importance. Nearby, a human male general with a stern countenance and a formidable presence as beside him. The elf leaned in, speaking in hushed tones to the human, unaware that Jack was positioning himself close enough to overhear.

Jack's ears perked up at the Elf's revelation, noting the potential ally or rival in the human general who, like himself, had risen to power through betrayal and cunning. Though it was the elf's aura of opulence that really intrigued him. A shared love of the finer things, and perhaps an opportunity for more of such things if he played his cards right.

To Jack's discomfort, a giant spider, more than ten times his size he would have guessed also loomed near the table. Jack felt a shiver run down his spine at the sight of the spider, a mix of fear and revulsion caused him to clench his jacket tightly within his pockets. He made a conscious effort to position himself as far from the spider as possible, moving closer to the elf and the human general. Taking a seat at the table, Jack could only just peer over it, only then noticing there was a fellow halfling present. Though their shared race would do little to falter his plans if they were ever to be at odds. His mind travelled back wistfully to that night in the Four Knaves, where he had taken power and, many lives.

When Princess Calista called for a cohesive vision, Jack listened intently, allowing the other generals to speak first. His eyes darted around the room, clearly absorbing every detail of the wealth and power on display, a small smile playing on his lips. Despite his apprehension towards the spider, he maintained a calm exterior, focusing on the grand strategy being discussed.

As demonic servants brought refreshments, Jack accepted a drink with a slight nod, his eyes briefly following the lavish display of servitude and luxury. He sipped slowly, visibly appreciating the fine quality, while his mind worked silently to analyse the room and the interactions around him.

 

[CaptainSully]

The desert sands whipped at the bleached bones of Ahkmenohtep and his honour guard, towering constructs modelled after the appearance of their gods. Each was adorned with typical attire for the region, loose fitting robes but covered with ornate armour that was as beautiful as it was useful. Ahkmenohtep stepped forward from his followers and planted his golden scythe into the sand before him. Shoots of pale green magic began to rise and snake around the large implement of death before ensnaring Ahkmenohtep in its grasp. The lich's vision blurred before clearing, revealing him to be at the most important of meetings.

Before everyone, the ghostly form of Ahkmenohtep bowed slightly while crossing an arm over his chest, the signature greeting of his people. As he rose he looked about the room, taking in those that had already arrived. He was often dealing with his own matters, so appearing as a projection was his usual port of call for such gatherings. He couldn't physically manipulate anything as a spectral projection but he could see and converse as if there, so ultimately it allowed him to attend without the rigmarole of travelling vast distances.

He hadn't necessarily befriended any of the other generals, yet he had neither crossed any either. He felt that maintaining a strictly professional relationship with the others was the way to go. Who knew what their ruler was thinking?! If he saw people grouping up and getting friendly, then there would be every chance of a paranoid ruler suspecting a growing plot of treason. In the same breath, making enemies of the other generals was a sure fire way to see yourself on the receiving end of an executioners axe.

As everyone mingled he simply stood there, hands together and waiting for the final arrivals.

 

[Abstracty]

"Oh please, do not force a smile. That always makes me suspect I will get a dagger punched through my ribcage soon.", Nanissis quipped casually, as he closely watched for Einars reaction after calling him a bastard. "Besides, I am a bastard myself most likely. I say most likely, because I can't even be sure about that, its just how people have regarded me thus far.", he continued arrogantly, yet much more reasonably and by doing so he admitted that he held General Jaddeth in quite a high regard - the finer of the two bastards present. "A bit of wine sounds delightful, which is your favorite?", the Elf was pleased about the suggestion while they would wait, but it seemed like the room was about to fill quite rapidly and thus, he could do without the wine for now.

As General Munsie entered, Nanissis rose from his seat, since it was the courteous thing to do when a Lady entered the room. "The pleasure is ours, Mylady.", he announced and after bowing his head politely he sat back down, even more relaxed and lopsided than before. The next guest was an especially interesting one, but Nanissis didn't mind at all. Once again, he minded his manners, standing up for Aranea as well and greeting her with a bow. "They really could have done a better job with the seating arrangement.", he deemed the lack of suitable seating for the gigantic spider quite inappropriate and so he simply walked towards the chair closest to Aranea and kicked to its side, pushing it out of the way so that she could have a more comfortable view of the table which she seemed so interested in. With a sly, satisfied smile he marched back to his spot and afterwards he was quite content to continue his conversation with Jaddeth. "So, tell me... you must have already made some plan up in your mind, am I right? Developed some sort of strategy on how to engage the task at hand?", he whispered quite ominously, before grinning again. "My strategy will be to attack the buffet head-on, leaving little room for mercy or desert.", Nanissis couldn't help but reveal what he was actually hinting and playing at.

But, since the Princess demanded a more serious conversation once more generals arrived, the Elf knew that it was time to actually provide more useful insight. "Greetings to you, General Jack. I think the esteemed General Jaddeth was just about to announce his grand plans.", he shuffled off the responsibility of setting the pace to the man seated opposite him, whilst also greeting another new arrival. This gave Nanissis the opportunity to divide his attention between the demons now arriving with drinks and refreshments, eagerly partaking in either whilst luring the demons closer and whispering special requests. It was the infernal court of sins after all and Nanissis would not be left missing out. "General Ahkmenohtep, such a shame you couldn't make it in the flesh.", he once again quipped, this time directed at the projection of Ahkmenohtep joining them from afar. He didn't begrudge the physical absence and should have known better than to prod at a Lich, but the Elf couldn't help himself and figured that it was a unique opportunity to do so without loosing his tongue.

 

[Gwahir]

The clambering of footsteps and horses came to a halt, as the guarded entourage bearing the banners of Argalis approached the gates to the grand palace. Plated men in the black and red colors of their country's ruling house, stepping aside in a small formation as the one they owed allegiance to dismounted from their steed.

A towering figure of grotesque blackened metals, from head to toe encapsulated in them stepped forth in a heavy and noisy stride. Foot-soldiers averting their gaze as to not draw offense from their lord as past by, holding in sighs of relief in as their country's tyrant left their presence and strode past the gate's to the Osynian' palace.

As the sounds of his men faded from behind the gates, the fallen prince of Argalis was left alone in the relative quiet of the travel to the palace.

In his youthful past, he could faintly recall an occasion once or twice where he'd visit this place. That which once exemplified the Osynian royalty and the pinnacle of their power. There was a regal and proud beauty here before, where the royal family and kingdom's legacy was presented in a grand tapestry of their lineage and story, where the nobility of court mingled, a domain befitting of a righteous and good ruler.

Though now, much of that prior elegance had been stripped. Degraded and perverted, as the old aesthetic of Osyne was replaced by their Oddaden conquerer. Accursed sigils of dark nature defacing the once majestic tapestries and the depravities of indulgence flowed freely in a blunt demonstration of both power and wealth.

Oneiruth did not linger his gaze on the extravagance of it all for long, for as his brief reminiscence of what once was faded... his dark attentions resumed their purpose.

Dark reds bored into the dark priest of sin, Talmor as the priest introduced himself. Only a low metallic rattle emanating from within the general's armor came in response before he'd follow the priest into the great hall where the Princess and the other generals that had arrived gathered themselves.

Two generals, man and elf engaged in talks. The elf more flamboyant than the other, an indulger in what this court of sin freely offered.

Halfings. In earnest honesty, not the type he'd expect to be engaging in military matters, much less leading armies. In his country, they were often the simpler kind of folk. But by their presence here, no doubt they held some remarkable quality to them that made them of worth.

A spider, though one far larger than the simple tiny vermin that he'd use to pick the legs off of as a child. Though it's exact race's name was unknown, this was one of the more recognizable general's, if not only out of the sheer peculiarity of what it was. The little trophy of one of Regis' conquests, grown up to be a terrifying creature. If it was in any other situation, he would have assumed it was some sort war-beast rather than an associate to work beside.

And lastly, out of those assembled was the lich of the desert. A perversion of natural life, existing only through necromantic magics. The arisen corpses of the desert were spoken of as a entertaining far-off tale in court, but to see one so far from their sandy dunes in Osyne was a surprise.

As his scanning of the room ceased, Oneiruth brought himself to a small, formal bow before the Princess. An acknowledgement of superiority and the command given onto them, before the lord of Argalis took to his seat. Attentions kept to the map before them, as the last of Regis' generals made their way in.

 

[dikdik]

The elf could read him. That was… Uncomfortable. Either Nanissis was excellent at reading subtle expressions, or the pressed smile wasn’t quite as subtle as Einar thought. The ramblings-on felt as though they’d last forever, though they were, at least in part, a bit entertaining. “I’m no traitor, Nanissis. You’d need to do something a bit less forgivable than stating the obvious truth for me to punch a knife through your chest.” Einar wasn’t sure Nanissis would think his reply was as playful as he did, but let a thin laugh escape besides, walking the tightrope between where his rage and humor met. “Growing up a poor little fuck on the farms, any wine is good wine. I’d have whatever they were serving. I assume you’ve got a preference?”

A halfling woman with sharp red hair briefly curtsied at the pair as she arrived, offering an intentionally safe greeting. Perhaps to avoid appearing busy, arrogant, or foolish. Nanissis’ greeting at her, complete with a show of respect and courtesy that involved leaving his chair, elicited a sudden pang of unworthiness in Einar. Her scooting closer to the table holding the map of Creon felt embarrassing by proxy, and Einar glanced away, without standing, and pressed a smile as he muttered a greeting back at her and offered her a chance to introduce herself, though with some prompting, “General Jaddeth, ma’am. Pleasure making your acquaintance...?”

The arrival of a massive arachnid was a bit unexpected, as was Nanissis’ creating a place at the table for her. Einar had chosen to make acquaintance and small talk with perhaps the most outrageous member of this group. No regret involved. He needed allies and this elf had the charisma and class Einar lacked. Though Einar had heard of Aranea before this meeting, he was as caught off guard as a peasant-bastard-turned-patricidal-general could be, as he’d only observed such a creature in art or books. His interest turned into a glance in Aranea’s direction once or twice before he recognized his curiosity wouldn’t be allowed to get the best of him here.

Back to The Ramblings of General Nanissis Yevro as the elf baited Einar into revealing strategy, before indulging in a quip relating the servings of Regis’ infernal house staff to the merciless slaughter that could be wrought on the resistance. Einar didn't take the bait. Not yet.

Another halfling seemed distrustful of the spider and landed in a seat near Einar and Nanissis. Einar noted that he was particularly observant. Could be an excellent ally, or quite the frustrating thorn in his side later. Allyship was preferable, so Einar offered him a nod with, “General Jaddeth,” attached.

A flicker of bones and light gave way to an image of a skeletal being, tall, regal, and really quite terrifying. Though the lich greeted the group in a silent bow, and the silence was maintained as others continued to arrive. Einar never broke it. Not for the lich. His mind padded around, wondering the last time he’d seen such a strange being. Though he felt like he’d seen and experienced the world and all it had to offer, he remembered how small and pathetic his existence before becoming a General had been.

It was Nanissis’ endless greetings and chatter that kept anchoring Einar back into the room and conversation as others continued to arrive and lecherous demons were serving food and drink. Though reassuring himself about just how impervious to vice he was, Einar plucked a glass of wine from a demon that leered through him in a way that produced a chill that ran from his scalp through his spine as Nanissis offered Einar’s thoughts to the group of Generals. Slowly sipping from the glass at his lips, not reducing or changing his composed posture in the chair as he did so, he let Nanissis’ words dangle in the air for a lingering moment before sitting the glass on the edge of the table, leaning back into his chair once more, and formulating a response, shooting a quick glare at the elf through words spoken with resolve and addressed to whoever happened to be listening.

“We’ve been bestowed a most high task by our Emperor Regis. A task of conquest and of crushing rebellion against his rule. Resistance is treason, after all.” Now holding a gaze at Nanissis. “Perhaps the allyships we forge in this room could accelerate this conquest.” Studying reactions from those at the table. “For example, General Nanissis and myself could pursue Caliban. One of us settling into Moondar, the other in Caliban, after they fall.”

 

[Damian0358]

As she approached the palace, Voyka, dressed in her general's garb as she always did for meetings here, reflected on the last ten years of Regis' rule. The past ten years had done much to bolster their ranks, and today was, to her knowledge, one of the first times their ranks as they were had come together, an important opportunity to properly meet and greet for those who had only heard of the others and nothing more.

As she arrived at the fountain she observed as the servants at the palace looked upon her with fear, but simultaneously too with praise, as despite her antics, she remained one of the most prominent Osynean commanders under the New Empire, for whatever that was worth. She wasn't even like most Osyneans, after all. Face to face with Talmor, she merely saluted the priest and followed him. She had seen the interior of the palace many a time before, and still considered that at some point the remnants of Osynean imagery should be replaced with Odadenian or Regisian imagery for completeness' sake. Arriving at the grand hall, Voyka recognized the Princess on the other end, but concentrated her sights on the maps and her fellow generals. She considered each one in front of her and yet to be...

---

The two with the most attention upon them were Einar Jaddeth and Nanissis Yevro. Einar was a fellow general emerging from the murkiest corners of society, her rising from slavedom and his from poverty, and shared with her a love of the Hunt. While newer than most, the two had met amicably before, such as when she joined the party assuring the loyalty of General Madden's forces to Regis after his son's usurpation. She knew that she'd get along with him well. Nanissis, a fellow Osynean transfer, was a different story. Though rising from serfdom, the man is an ambitious wormtongue out of her field, and had even told him as much. She could work with him professionally as long as he didn't mess up her plans, but she preferred not to.

While others would have missed her, Voyka spotted Munsie Moldive clear as day. An especially promising up-and-comer in the army, Voyka had had the opportunity to witness her guerilla warfare in action, and levied praise upon her. But in equal measure, she had warned her against further injury, remarking to her that the loss of her eye was another chip in her armor which risked her. She was another Voyka felt comfortable working with, even as her ambition worried her. The mindweaving spider, Aranea stood nearby, watching the map intensely. The two shared a similar past, from matriarchal races with psychic abilities. Though this would make one assume them to get along well, the moment they found out about one another's abilities, they also recognized just how different they were... Voyka cared not to get in her way, as long as Aranea kept the same on her end. By Munsie was another, Jack Bower, another general who had ascended through usurpation. Unlike with Einar however, she was unfamiliar with the man personally, but she was sure he had heard of her, given at least one 'Butcher' epitaph belonged to her.

In the corner she observed Ahkmenohtep's ghostly form, as it usually appeared for these meetings. The Lich concerned himself first and foremost with his own affairs, so she hasn't had the opportunity to become familiars with him, though when he first appeared he had asked her and others to allow his necromancers to join them to raise the dead in exchange to offering cannon fodder for their forces. She rejected the offer under pretense that those that she battles are too brutalized in death for that. She ultimately didn't mind that they only knew one another professionally, for now. Thereafter she saw Onieruth of Argalis, another kinslayer and regicider among their ranks, an example of the kind of man that would cut down her kind and Aranea's. The princeling had kept to his corner just like the Lich, but she was more familiar with his accomplishments, and knew him to be a worthy combatant. As long as he (and the others sans Aranea) remained ignorant of her psychonautics she was sure she'd work well with him.

But after observing him, she considered those yet to arrive. For instance, Kypher M. Solari and the golem Zayin, another pair of Osyne transfers, albeit thanks to Nanissis' actions years prior. She had heard of the latter during her military time in Osyne, given the remarkable nature of golems and their potential for war, but Zayin seemed to lay low prior to Regis and her 'persuasion' to their side. She liked her nature now though. Solari, a friend of Zayin's, was similarly captured and convinced to fight under Regis more willingly. She bemoaned his lazy nature, even moreso as she understood his technique which enabled such laziness to begin with. Working smarter was all fine and well, but she felt he could at least be less obvious about it, it was embarrassing.

In contrast, Richard of Ketterby was a fellow military leader that one could respect, at least in tactics. The man was an archetypal military leader, aside from the violent outbursts he had, an element that she could easily work with. But the two of them remained only professionally familiar with one another. In contrast, the demon willed into this existence, Jannexas, seemed to take keen eye on her, to enable her murderous tendencies, though she refused to shake his hand on any matters. She needed no gift to further her slaughter, only mortal laws to enable her. The remaining absentee - Grull Vastavijk - was another whom she wasn't very familiar with personally, but what she did know made her sure she would be able to work with him comfortably. A very hungry usurper seemed like right peers.

---

After her considerations she saluted the Princess, before saluting the others. "Hello dearies," Voyka greeted in her usual maternalistic way. She had already eaten before her arrival, so she was in no need of food or drink, instead concentrated on what the Princess would say as her peers slowly arrived.

The discussion at the table had already oriented itself towards everyone's plans, at least if the others enabled Nanissis' control over the discourse as Einar was. Of course, as she examined the map, she knew what her strategy would be - aiding where necessary, first and foremost - a fairly modest plan, perfect for her.

 

[Crocodile]

Jannexas glides into the chamber with an inhuman smoothness to his motion. His robes fluttered as he seemingly drifted along with no sign of his legs moving. Smoke alight with blue flame flowed from atop his head, a pleasant scent like burning incense and herbs the tempted one to step closer to him. His visage concealed entirely by a mask forged of gold or some similar metal adorned with horns and crowned by a floating sphere. The high neck allowed the glow of that alluring blue flame to show even as a singular dot in the mask spot of an eye for the demon to see with. His hands smoked and showed hits of blue flame, yet one could touch them and remained unburned.

The demon had been a fixture to the Imperial Court, having arrived with the Emperor and his demonic hordes during the conquest. Some whispered the armies had been conjured by the Whisper in Sin himself, part of some dark bargain struck with Regis when he sought the means to forge his new empire and seek vengeance. Whatever bargain was struck, Jannexas was much diminished from the great power that had gifted Emperor Regis with those hordes almost as if he had carved himself to pieces to make the armies. The faith of the Seven seemed to give him a wide birth, whispers of him not being a demon of the Seven but something of the Outer Void far more terrible and complex. Whatever the case, Jannexas enabled sin in all its forms seemingly for his own amusement and dark delights. No soul was ever collected as far as anyone could tell. No mortal dragged to whatever dark dimension he called home.

Those who followed Jannexas were as a cult, devoted to their master's manipulative nature and dark designs. They were rewarded greatly for service as Jannexas had little use for personal wealth beyond using it to pursue his agendas or those of the Emperor. His army was almost fanatical in its efforts to serve their demonic master as he continued to satiate their desires and feed their sins. Worship of him was common amongst his troops, believing him to be a dark deity fallen to mortal scale. All marveled that Emperor Regis had tamed such a being and Jannexas curiously never offered correction to such talk. His devotion to the Emperor's desires was surprising to some, but one could not doubt the demon when he offered assistance in matters.

"And so the hunger awakens. So the march will begin. Where shall the Emperor send me? Where shall I claim for him?" Jannexas mused as his cycloptic gaze swept the chamber, his voice smooth and reassuring. One you could listen to for hours on end if you allowed him to go on talking.​

 

[K0mori]

“General Jaddeth, ma’am. Pleasure making your acquaintance...?”

"Munsie, sir. General Munsie Moldive, of Tidiaus," she explained, gingerly. "And thank you, it's an honor."

Tidiaus was not some great nation, and so she wouldn't proclaim her background loudly in hopes of any admiration. Instead, Tidiaus was a small country which once followed the orders of the Osynian crown. When Regis toppled the old order, the spineless petty-royal leaders of the forested halfling enclave immediately offered tribute, which soon became negotiations which saw their swift abdication and reassignment to Imperial governorships. As a result, of these occurrences, however, Munsie suddenly found herself a citizen of Regis' glorious empire in her formative years. As soon as she could shoot a bow, she began training as a scout, and then a ranger when she was old enough to serve in the military. Peasant revolts troubled the region throughout her teenage years, and upon one of her earliest deployments as an officer, she crushed an uprising which threatened to overwhelm the capital city guard.

Famously, Munsie would be left wounded from a partisan's blade during the battle, but she wouldn't be deterred from service. In fact, she wore the scar (which had taken her right eye) as a mark of pride, and demanded from her soldiers a similar level of commitment and brutality. In the aftermath, the most proficient rangers and other officers rallied around Munsie as she quickly climbed the ranks, rooting out resistance anywhere the Empire detected it - first in Tidiaus, and then in surrounding provinces where Regis required them. Now, she had attained the rank of General, and held a degree of power over her home province that possibly dwarfed the civilian leadership.

However, in the presence of demons, ghosts, and even a giant spider, Munsie looked and felt like nothing special. And so with another rosy smile, she returned to her silent contemplations. She had done her homework before the meeting and knew of the names and general backgrounds of each of her fellows, although the specifics would sometimes elude her. General Jeddath, for example, also came up from nothing - more so than she had done, and so she admired his drive and determination. Nanissis, likewise, was a climber, although his arrogant behavior badly undermined his otherwise charming appearance. She sighed; if he wanted her, his appearance would be enough.

Setting that aside, Munsie was weary of Aranea. Unlike the many - read: many - beasts that she had tamed over the last eight years or so of scouting and hunting, she immediately felt the intense presence of the spider from the moment it entered the room. She had heard that Aranea's intelligence was difficult to judge, yet estimated to be high. She would be sure not to offend her by treating her as a lesser.

Voyka, on the other hand, brought her reassurance. They had met before, and the elder had offered her praise that she kept close to her heart. Munsie hoped to one day rise to her level, but Voyka had cautioned allowing more scars to hamper her abilities. Munsie was a mere mortal, of course, and so she only had one body with which to conquer the world - she best take care of it.

Lastly, the one figure which captivated her more than any other was the demon, Jannexas, whose appearance in Regis' court likely led to the latter's incredible success in the field. She didn't care that he was an agent of sin, or that the halls of the palace bore the marks of his work where once stood monuments and memorials of the glories of ordinary men and mer - his presence excited her. If he could be such a beneficiary to the Emperor... why not her?

 

[Moopy07]

Stood on the outskirts of his camp, adorned in armor that, whilst impractical and rather extravagant for his own taste was designed to inpress the other generals that he would be meeting with, Richard gazed up at the sun. A bright ball of orange, white and soon to be purple as he looked for far too long. Beside him his best friend and trusted advisor spoke.
"It is time."
Richard sighed and hesitated for a moment before nodding.
"Is the escort ready?"
"Yes, they are all awaiting your order to March to the capital."
"Good."
Richard turned and walked down the hill where his camp was located to a small force of heavily armoured men on horseback waited.
"Men, you have served me well, do not disappoint me in the city. We have the Emperor's trust, I wish to keep it."
"Yes sir!" Came the response from his 10 guards.
Richard mounted his own personal warhorse, put on his helmet, an extravagant creation of steel and gold with a plume of bright purple, and gave the order to march out.

As they arrived at the gates of the capital, Richard gave the order to halt as he looked up at the sun.
"We are early."
"Is that not a good thing sir?"
"No, we were given a time to arrive, we will arrive at that time. No sooner, no later."
"Yes sir."
After exactly ten and a half minutes had passed, Richard gave the order to march out. Once they arrived at the gates, he took only a moment to appreciate the grandiose structure. He sighed, he knew that this gate was an attempt to impress any visitors and put fear into any Attackers, though an attack on the capital seemed as unlikely as one of the demon guards making their way to whatever heaven awaited the few good people of this world.

After entering the city, he dismounted his horse alongside his men and waited to be seen to by whoever was sent to welcome him. He gave a salute to the statue of the Emperor and to the priest when he arrived. Before he followed the priest, he ordered all but one of his men to accompany the horses and ensure they were treated properly. Whilst he was following the priest, he gazed around at the court, acknowledging any salutes from the soldiers and staring with disdain at the bureaucrats.

Upon his entry to the great hall, he stared around at all of the extravagant furniture, all new since his last visit here. Upon seeing the Princess, Richard dropped to a knee and bowed his head, treating her as if she were the Emperor himself.

Upon looking at the other generals, he gave yet another salute to each of them and after saluting the last, a spider-like creature who he had not previously met, he took off his helmet, handing it to his guard, and made his way to his seat in silence, ignoring any attempt at small talk.

Upon the Princess' request for plans, Richard remained ever silent. Analysing the other generals' body language and their ideas. Assessing whether any of them presented a threat to either his goals or the Emperor, though he kept any suspicions to himself. When asked whether he had any plans he simply stated that he will follow the orders of the Emperor no matter what plan was decided upon.

When the servants arrived, he took any offered food and drink whilst glaring at any servants who made an advance towards him or his guard. Richard also looked around the table towards the other generals to see if they had a reaction to the servants' Advances as it was his view that if a soldier can be disloyal in a relationship then they can be disloyal to their oaths.

 

[turtwigwins]

Princess Calista processed quickly the words and motions that fluttered around her as the generals gave their respects and began conversations amongst themselves. The reputations spoke for themselves in most situations. This differed from their own mouths which only began with politeness. As time ticked she noticed the hesitation with their words. Deference and Silence. Where was the ambition, the greed? Were they all too cautious as to not be the first to reveal their own ambition?

Reluctantly Calista tuned into her hearing. Calista's face lit up upon where one of the red paints glowed, and with a otherworldy aura she grew her senses where she could hear the whispers of the tables. Off in this distance she heard Einar take the initiave in proposing to General Nanissis of a proposal to fight the nation of Caliban. In a not so subtle way of revealing her authority she began to speak in response to his conversation at his table, "General Jaddeth speaks boldy, Caliban and the worshipers of the false god Lunara have been a historical enemy of Odaden. They will be the first to strike at us should the empire falter." She moved a token down onto the board in the province of Odaden before beginning to twirl the token embed with General Yevro's emblem between her fingers, "Will General Yevro support this plan?"

Waiting for Yevro's to respond she would follow up with a statement beginning to pace around the table. "Generals, your ambitions?" Calista said reminding them of her request, this time with a tinge of anger in her sharp voice.

 

[Abstracty]

A wide, devilish grin formed over Nanissis's face as Jaddeth reacted to his prodding with some humor of his own. "Do not worry yourself. There will be lots of unforgiveable things done before we are through.", he assured, after which he leaned back deep into his seat and gave a sly wink. "I do have a strong preference, of course. But a poor little farm fuck wouldn't understand it.", he decided to tease one last time, but he could tell that the room was changing. The more generals entered, the less place remained for his banter. In a room full of demons, the old Voyka still stood out as a killer, but he greeted her like anyone else nonetheless - though his bow might have been slightly deeper and his smile wider. Oneiruth and Jannexas also had a strong presence about them, whilst the sober entrance of Richard was a great contrast to the behaviour displayed by Nanissis. It was surprising to him that they all seemed to keep their plans so tight to their chest. But it would matter little to him, as he got the stone rolling by involving General Jaddeth with announcing his intentions first. And it didn't take long for the Princess Calista to respond.

Rising from his seat right after she adressed him, he smiled and bowed. "Of course, I will! We shall no longer suffer the falsehood of the Calibanians at our southern doorsteps. As it so happens, I had the same intentions as the esteemed General Jaddeth - great bastard minds think alike.", he spoke less casually now, realizing that it was time to play the game properly, so as to not loose life or limb. Dramatically raising his hand and pointing a finger at the map spread before them, he singled out the region of Fairwych. "My centaurs are currently residing here, but it is about time they are set moving again. Collecting tithe from peasant scum can only occupy them for so long. As for the rest of my company, they are already making preparations. The southern forests are tricky, but if we strike deep into Moondar along the great river and the coast I expect victory for the Empire. Ending the Calibanians swiftly will certainly not end their worship immediately, but it will gain us a lot of control over the narrow gap in the sea. Once Delphinas Hook is taken, the southern ocean will proof of great value to the Empire.", he used his little finger to keep pointing out place on the map, his cup of wine swirling around precariously, but not a single drop was spilled onto the map despite some theatrics. "Therefore, I not only pledge myself to the Caliban campaign... I invite any loyal general to take the other side of the southern gap!"

 

[Damian0358]

Voyka grinned as the Princess forced the discussion to continue on in regards to their ambitions, her impatience visible. Nanissis finished his spiel and made her his own and Einar's ambitions southward to Caliban. The rivalry of the Solmanites and the Lunarites was well-known, and their final subjugation would be one step closer in the latter's defeat. It was a good way of appealing to the Emperor. In the process of discussing that plan, they also highlighted securing the southern ocean by way of taking Delphina's Hook, currently in the hands of Althreiell, a realm her people always highlighted as an example to follow... an example she should burn to the ground and find those of her kind in hiding there, as to conscript them under her thumb. But while Caliban had no chance of support from neighboring Veloria or potentially further west, Althreiell has Frostfell to its north, which could attempt to rip off its southern neighbor in exchange to sending aid, not to mention those further east.

Elsewhere, westward, the Nulanali and the Triumvirate of Pythos are in conflict with the other, and simultaneously resisting Odaden rule. Gurlap, Wolven and Mudkadi resist Imperial rule in the north purely by virtue of their anarchic existence, while Padoria, Aberhald and Lovona could develop a united front to resist further expansion in that direction. Toward the north-east, young Pescon seems a viable target for those wishing a simple invasion, as its neighbors are unlikely to intervene, including Antinia, a land for the adventurous. From everything she could tell, a coalition of generals would be better suited in the north-west above all else, not the south-west. All the potential variables are why she preferred playing support. Aiding where necessary proved that she cared for Imperial success moreso then her personal ambitions, especially as aiding meant she could functionally do both, murdering in his Majesty's name.

"I would imagine that two would be the most generals needed to deal with the heretics in the south," Voyka responded to Nanissis' bluster, "though I must say, Princess, that you already know what my ambition is. The very same that has fueled me since our Liege began his war with Osyne so long ago, aiding in the consolidation of his Imperial power over the lands, all while maintaining my freedom to... indulge in my own desires. Whether it be towards the south-east, the north-west, or the north-east, me and my men are flexible, and willing to aid where necessary," she elaborated, with her signature grin.

 

[K0mori]

"Generals, your ambitions?"

Munsie pushed on the armrests of her chair to elevate herself a bit, since standing up would have required her to drop to the floor, in effect lowering herself form her seated position. "Princess, I would like to lead a charge into Pescon," she announced. "The so-called 'democracy' there is no more than a mob in search of a voice, and I believe that we should treat it with no more respect than a peasant revolt. That is to say: once their army is broken, we should expect no surrender, as there is no one man or woman who can speak for them. I will impose Imperial law upon them without recourse or mercy, and make an example of them," she says with a hint of a smile. "...People far and wide ought to flock to the authority of their leaders, as it will make it easier for us to bring them under our control, once those leaders are liquidated."

 

[CaptainSully]

Munsie pushed on the armrests of her chair to elevate herself a bit, since standing up would have required her to drop to the floor, in effect lowering herself form her seated position. "Princess, I would like to lead a charge into Pescon," she announced. "The so-called 'democracy' there is no more than a mob in search of a voice, and I believe that we should treat it with no more respect than a peasant revolt. That is to say: once their army is broken, we should expect no surrender, as there is no one man or woman who can speak for them. I will impose Imperial law upon them without recourse or mercy, and make an example of them," she says with a hint of a smile. "...People far and wide ought to flock to the authority of their leaders, as it will make it easier for us to bring them under our control, once those leaders are liquidated."

Ahkmenohtep stepped forward.

"Am I little more than a joke to you? You are all aware of my plans for my former home and Pescon lies directly in a path to it."

There was contempt in his voice at the suggestion anyone but him should lead any sort of expedition eastward given the well known fact that his eyes lay firmly upon Khotep.

"Princess, if I may, the solution to Pescon is far simpler. We should consider any lives within the city as forfeit. They have a taste for freedom and once peasants have had it's great flavour across their tongues then they will always long for it. They have proven themselves riotous and I would expect no amount of policing will stop guerilla actions."

He bowed slightly to the princess as he continued.

"Allow me to cleanse the city of all life as an example of your power and to strike fear into the hearts of any peasant that believes there is a better life waiting for them through revolt."

 

[Damian0358]

Voyka raised her voice once more after Ahkmenohtep. "There's no reason for hostility, dear Ahkmenohtep," Voyka began, "in fact, I'm sure you'd find Munsie the perfect associate for your plans. I'm sure she would agree..." she said, turning her eyes towards the halfling, "a little bloodletting wouldn't hurt either of you. And regardless, Monzia maintains interests on Pescon, and we would all agree the last thing we need is a homeward bound general separated from the Empire, surrounded on all fronts, because he lacked an ally to cover his flank."

Voyka leaned back in her chair with a smile, knowing that Ahkmenohtep couldn't risk seeming uncooperative, lest he seem obstructive to the Empire's goals, and Munsie, she knew she would happily partake in the lich's plans, making her proud.

 

[dikdik]

Though Einar was now locked in conversation with Nanissis, more forcibly subjecting to the elf’s noxious sense of humor as he suggested violence, he passively observed the last Generals trickling into the chamber, Voyka drawing his attention and thought more than others, though the arrival of Jannexas sent an unsettled shiver through his bones, much like that elicited by the lecherous demon he collected the wine from moments before. Voyka was a General Einar respected perhaps more than all the others. Her drive, her experience, her brutality were all to be admired. Voyka’s visit to his army upon deposing his father struck him as a bit tense, though that was dissuaded upon conversing with her. Her rise from slave to General was inspirational, much as Einar’s own rise to power could be. Richard’s arrival proved as irritating as Einar expected it to be. A pompous show of intergenerational wealth and stature proved nought but that the man hadn’t earned the glory that was handed to him. Though the pomp and circumstance was bothersome, Richard could exact vengeance and brutality much like Einar could, and that was to be respected if nothing else.

The Princess’ venom was made apparent in her response to the lack of planning and strategizing rattling about the chamber. Her affirmation of Einar’s intent and his invitation to Nanissis curled a corner of his mouth into a satisfied smile. It was Nanissis’ response to her call to action that curled the corner back to its resting position. Great bastard minds think alike. The elf was correct, though Einar would have changed the wording. Everyone in the room knew he was a bastard. Everyone in the room knew he slaughtered his father in The Circle. Everyone in the room. The repeated reminder wasn’t quite welcome, though he didn’t hate the attention to his victory that it brought.

What had he done, offering to campaign with this little weasel? Einar would need to get used to his quips, lest he cut his tongue out in a fit of drunken rage. Guess no drinking to excess while that one’s around.

In spite of Einar’s being bothered by the frivolity of language used, Nannis’ suggestion of the marching path was intelligent and straightforward. Decidedly offering a more long-term plan aloud for the table to hear, though directed at Nanissis, “Perhaps General Yevro’s and my march could continue through Voloria and Bovech in tandem after we regroup and settle into Moondar and Caliban?”

Turning towards the grinning elf and offering some semblance of humor cloaked in his coldness in a muttering unintelligible to others at the table, “Unless you’ve decided instilling horror in rebel scum and burning their livelihood to the ground is a bit too unforgivable.”

Perhaps the others would assume he was conspiring with Nanissis. Perhaps they’d view the pair as effective servants to the Master. Either way, Einar needed to trust this man, shit jokes or not.

More conversation continued, highlighting Voyka’s flexibility, Munsie’s ambition, and the Lich’s… the Lich’s crude aggression towards the halfling at her suggestion of taking Pescon. Einar’s eyes widened just slightly as odium leaked through Ahkmenohtep’s voice. He paused, expecting some sort of fight to perturb the collaboration in the chamber. To his relief, though not his surprise, Voyka broke the tension offering a compromise and forcing the Lich into a calm response, lest the others perhaps doubt him. Einar breathed a deep breath, awaiting any response from the halfling or the Lich to Voyka’s offering of cooperative bloodletting and crushing of rebellion.

 

[Abstracty]

"An excellent suggestion, though we will have to consider the timeframe carefully. I would like to continue through Voloria and Bovech eventually - and all throughout the South for that matter. The coastal climate is quite pleasant, after all.", Nanissis was clearly interested in what Einar suggested. But he knew that they couldn't get ahead of themselves. The Caliban campaign would be challenging enough for now and Voykas remark about only needing two generals at most hadn't gone unnoticed. She was trying to set them up somehow, the Elf was sure of it and thus he remained wary about discussing the march west any further. "I would consider NOT instilling horror in rebel scum to be unforgiveable.", he therefore returned to quipping with Einar, matching his tone and volume. "Although the burning part - while tempting, no doubt about it - might be considered undesirable by some. I do prefer to plunder and enslave instead."

Never one to miss some good drama, his attention quickly turned to the disgruntled Lich. Eagerly stroking his fingers against one another, Nanissis contemplating stirring the pot a little more. Voyka tried to reason between the Generals Ahkmenohtep and Munsie, which kept a satisfied smirk on his face. They would make for quite a strange duo, but the bloodthirsty hag was talking some sense. But he also noticed that she was taking an easy way out, not making any plans of her own and instead leaving it up to Princess Calista to give her a direction. Glancing over to Einar, he wondered if his likely ally was noticing similar things. "But would cover even be necessary after a mighty Lich has devoided the place of life thoroughly? If I didn't know any better, I could be tempted to believe you doubt the exalted General Ahkmenohtep.", he interjected, very polite in his tone and leaning forward slightly. Resting his elbows on the table and putting his fingers together, Nanissis smiled a shit-eating grin in the calmest manner possible. "Though, I am sure that General Munsie meant no offense at all and cooperation is what is expected of us, after all. Has the possibility of an expedition through the mountains to liberate Khotep been explored? That would certainly be the fastest way home whilst giving further justification for Munsie securing Pescon."

 

[K0mori]

"Am I little more than a joke to you? You are all aware of my plans for my former home and Pescon lies directly in a path to it."

Munsie had barely spoken before one of the more powerful members of the general staff seemed to take offense to her presence. She was immediately silenced, settling back into her seat with a huff, and prepared to defer completely to Ahkmenohtep's will on the matter before others spoke up in support of her initiative.

"There's no reason for hostility, dear Ahkmenohtep," Voyka began, "in fact, I'm sure you'd find Munsie the perfect associate for your plans. I'm sure she would agree..." she said, turning her eyes towards the halfling, "a little bloodletting wouldn't hurt either of you. And regardless, Monzia maintains interests on Pescon, and we would all agree the last thing we need is a homeward bound general separated from the Empire, surrounded on all fronts, because he lacked an ally to cover his flank."

"But would cover even be necessary after a mighty Lich has devoided the place of life thoroughly? If I didn't know any better, I could be tempted to believe you doubt the exalted General Ahkmenohtep.", he interjected, very polite in his tone and leaning forward slightly. Resting his elbows on the table and putting his fingers together, Nanissis smiled a shit-eating grin in the calmest manner possible. "Though, I am sure that General Munsie meant no offense at all and cooperation is what is expected of us, after all. Has the possibility of an expedition through the mountains to liberate Khotep been explored? That would certainly be the fastest way home whilst giving further justification for Munsie securing Pescon."

"If we commit to a course which leaves nothing but death in our wake, then we risk the loss of collaborators whom would one day make strong allies. After all, some of us were Osynian or likewise-aligned naught a decade ago, and would not be sitting here if we were killed indiscriminately when the conquest began," she explains humbly. "...But, it is not my place to dictate the course of this campaign; it's merely a suggestion."

 

[CaptainSully]

The argument against Ahkmenohtep was clearly from a position of not understanding his power.

"Do you think walking into the home of proven rebels, beating them down and then demanding subservience will work?"

The lich scoffed as he glances at those who questioned his plan, but it was not their fault that they were ignorant to his talents.

"The answer is a firm no. You cannot extinguish the flame of rebellion, the fire burns uncontrollably. The only way you defeat it is by removing the life from its host. The people have proven themselves unworthy of their existence and will undoubtedly rebel against any attempts to bring them to heel."

Ahkmenohtep began to craft a flame in his hand as he spoke before crushing it in his hand to reinforce his point.

"Whoever falls to my armies will rise in service to our glorious leader. No risk of rebellion, no risk of turning and running in fear...an army and a workforce that will never tire, that will only grow as it sweeps through the enemies before it...this is why my plan makes the most sense. Traitors cannot rebel if they are in eternal servitude after death."