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KINGDOMS of HATE, KINGDOMS of LIFE
Supporting Cast
Scheduled Sessions
KOHKOL: Session 07 -- 'The Chancellery Rules'
An obscure clause, likely left in a document by oversight or lack of concern, makes a King follow orders. The royal couple are summoned to the Exchequer. They will need to follow the instructions of the Chancellor.
Session 04: The Dragons' Teeth
To complicate things, she’d died while she’d been examining the skull. The apothecary had been looking at the creature’s skull for about half an hour before she’d cried out. Positioned outside, Sir Causs had rushed into her tent but there’d been little he could do. He’d looked her over and tried to get her to revive. He’d even tried a curing draught but that didn’t work. She was dead. Sir Causs had called for help. The commander of Causs ‘s troop arrived minutes later. He was dressed, which at this time of night might have been odd. As the commander had been talking with his officers about the importance of tomorrow’s meeting, it wasn’t. Sir Causs reported briefly on what had happened. He was a little nervous at the silent stare the commander subjected him to. The silence lasted longer than it should have. Sir Causs had done everything he could to save the apothecary... “So she was alone and she died... You can’t expect me to take that as what happened here? Tell me the real story, Causs and I might be lenient. She interested you. You decided to ask her for something more. She refused your offer. You insisted. She rejected you. She might have been stern. Dismissive. Did she scold you? You were angry. It happens, Causs. Tell me what you haven’t. How did you do it without making it obvious? Casting was it?” “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve told you what happened.” “She couldn’t have been more than thirty. You expect me to believe she just tumbled over dead like an aged crone?” “It’s what happened, Commander. The Jaw might hav —“ “Well then if you’re going to make it difficult... Algace! Algace! Get in here and remove Sir Causs. Have him chained behind the cart. He can walk back to Darastur.” Commander Shasieg watched the knight get taken off by two farland knights. Algace, remained behind and stood stiffly at attention staring at a particular section of the tent’s canvas wall. Shaseig looked Algace over. The man’s imperturbability mocked his own worry. There were three types of Br’Tagnese soldiers. There was the low-yeomen. These men as the came from common stock either the dispossessed or outright criminals. There was the type known as empire guard. These could be knights or men-at-arms. Both Br’Tagnese nobles and farland knights. Fighters who had learned their skills from others. Dependent on who had trained them these men could be dangerous on entering the emperor’s service or if they survived the difficult ordeals of their first years of service, they would be more skilled afterward. The third group were different. They weren’t born to fighting or even forced into it by circumstance, they were created for soldiering. These fighters were Emperor Huon’s creation. That made them the trusted arm of both the empire and its leader. They were the New Guard. They weren’t always the most clever of warriors, Shaseig mused. Dedicated and deadly for certain. Focused and implacable when it came to the empire. Shaseig looked directly at Algace. There was no reason to be subtle. Algace wouldn’t take offence as he had no personal pride to speak of, only the desire to follow orders. For the New Guard, serving the emperor was all they wanted as it was all they’d known. They weren’t motivated by human want or need as they only wanted to serve and only needed the emperor’s love. Shaseig wasn’t one of the New Guard. He was a regular man. Once h Just a yeoman, he’d risen by the efforts he’d made and admittedly some luck. A narrowly-missed spear tip, a set-up to make him look bad avoided, a censure wrongly given to his co-conspirator and not himself, any of these things and more might have brought him to a lesser fate. He hadn’t been unlucky and had been smart to the point of getting out of harm’s way. He could be sure that Algace would be first to report the apothecary’s death on arrival at Annock Koss. As the koss was mere hours distant, Shaseig needed to decide how to deal with this problem. Sir Causs was not going to admit wrong-doing. Shaseig had satisfied himself on that score. The knight wasn’t about to cave in. Some might have. The empire bred a particular kind of craven. A weakness in the blind adoration of imperial teachings. People were likely to develop so much fear that they would turn in another to save themselves. Some would actually admit to a crime they were innocent of to save their loved ones. Both natures were reliably found in Br’Tagne. Sir Causs was not either. Damned farlander would stick to the truth and that was the problem, because the apothecary’s death was then Shaseig’s responsibility. He needed a scapegoat. “The apothecary’s death will tax the emperor.” “I doubt that.” “What she’d learned of this relic... its secrets were known to her only. The other apothecaries are not her match. The empire will suffer for it.” “The empire will be made strong by struggle. When it is burnished by hardships it will grow into its proper form and remove all vestigials from Logresse.” Shasieg was more than used to the proclamations of knights of the New Guard. He knew that Algace could be made to talk more humanly. “He may respect your reputation Algace? You could impress on him his duty to empire and emperor. Sir Causs will listen to you.” “I doubt that he would respond. Sir Causs is what I call a ‘herald’s joy’. He’s a straight-sword. He won’t budge from his truth.” “Yes, the truth as he sees it. I’m glad you phrased it that way, Algace. I need a different truth to be made reality. If I kill him for his murdering the apothecary it would be deemed to clearly a cover-up. If you did it... The New Guard is beyond reproach.” “We answer to the emperor. None other. I make the world into his desire.” “What’s one knight against what the empire stands to lose? If I’m made responsible then all my work will be lost. You’ve been with me a year and a half —“. “Sixteen months.” “— been with me a good amount of time. You know that there have been things we’ve seen that have mystified you. Things that I understood. I’m lucky to have been made of my family. Two heathen casters as relatives gave me an unusual childhood. A cantrip or so, the use of plants to hurt or heal, eh?” “The emperor has seen to your rewards. I am not concerned as to your future.” “You need to be concerned for the emperor’s, however. If I am made to pay for this death with my own life, the emperor will never learn about this jaw’s — I’ve said too much... Algace you know that I’m a normal man. Born of a mother as you weren’t. My gift is to be able to figure things out. It’s why I’ve done so well. I’m in command here despite you and twenty-odd New Guard being present. “That you are in charge of this expedition is down to the fact that you are more accustomed to talking with farlanders. Do not mistake your command for anything that it isn’t. The New Guard is in charge of this foray despite your leading it.” “I’m a guide, is it? Alright, then allow me to guide you. You say quite against orders that you and the Guard are in charge. In that case — and do consider that it might come to a case before a tribune — I can leave the matter of the apothecary to you and the Guard... Tell me Algace, how do we proceed? Shall I have the body vatted or burned? Sir Causs, leave him chained to the baggage cart or freed to return to his duty? The other apothecaries, implicated or brought into our confidence? Set them to solving her death or keep her death to ourselves and say she’s been sent ahead to the koss? I cannot command the New Guard as you are in command.” Algace stared at Shaseig as though he were a signpost and little more. Shaseig couldn’t discern any emotion on the man’s face. The only way he could tell that Algace was disturbed was that he had not replied with any rote sayings about the emperor. The longer the silence the better... “I have no desire to meet a tribune. Their methods are useful but I don’t like long conversation.” “I’m less partial to their long knives.” “I have nothing to fear from a tribunal but I can see there are complexities to the situation. It is for such complexities that you were added to the expedition. The apothecary acted incorrectly in pursuing her investigation without assistance. It goes against her Order’s teachings. It is suspicious. Her history isn’t known to me. Her devotion to the emperor could have been less than necessary. I will question the other apothecaries. They may be able to assist.” “I should like to hear your questions. It may become more complex?” Algace stared at the tent’s waxed canvas for a time. Both men were statues; Algace because it was his way and Shaseig because he dared not move. He needed this New Guard’s support or he’d be lost. “You are a clever man, Shaseig. Don’t smile. Clever is a thin armour, easily pierced.” Algace left abruptly. Shaseig had no doubt that Algace went directly to the apothecaries’ tent. He needed to go there but the small box that held the Chromean Jaw was just sitting there. Swearing to himself, Shaseig took the box and left the tent. Another New Guardsman has joined Algace. Both stride toward the apothecaries’ tent. They were in for a rude awakening. The situation would grow more complicated... Shaseig swore again. As he walked he spied a yeoman’s backsack. He lifted it as he passed. A small piece of good luck. As he placed the Jaw’s box in the backsack, Shaseig hoped that his luck would be enough to withstand the siege to come. The two New Guard reaches the tent and without announcing themselves went straight in. There were immediate sounds of the apothecaries protest. Shaseig hadn’t been sure the two apothecaries would have been awake but apparently they were. Shaseig coughed theatrically as he entered the tent. A small thing to set the apothecaries’ minds toward him being different from the New Guardsmen. It was apparent that the two apothecaries had been being intimate. They were attempting to dress themselves. One had taken up the sleeping shawl that expeditions used instead of his clothing. Normally Shaseig would have made light of the situation but he needed the apothecaries to be difficult... the Jaw was heavier than he remembered... Shaseig returned his attention to the tent’s situation. He needed to concentrate on Algace's words to know when to intervene to his advantage. "Do not concern yourselves with getting clothed. I'm not affected by your impropriety. The New Guard have a familiarity with the human body most do not... Now, I need to ask after the absent apothecary. Was her absenting herself explained to you both?" The taller apothecary spoke, "She left to... to allow us to be alone." "So she left and you had no idea where she was going?" "Yes... I didn't actually think about where she was going." With that the taller apothecary looked at his partner. "Would you be interested to know that she began an investigation into the Chromean Jaw?" "She did? We had discussed this and she had agreed to wait until we reached the theatres of Darastur." Shaseig should have jumped in as the information being revealed by both speakers was giving him possible opportunities. He wasn't paying close attention. His mind was on the Jaw in the box. There was something different about his sensation of carrying it. Different from when he'd handed it to the apothecaries two days ago. It had been in its box then too so there should have been no discernible difference. Shaseig caught himself edging toward the tent's opening. He stilled his feet. Nothing about the several instances of his contact with the Jaw before had been anything like the sensation he was feeling now. What had the apothecary done to it? He had to remind himself that she was dead. The Jaw might have killed her. If that was right, then the Jaw's fabled powers were not as described. Useful thing, killing, but not what the relic was renown for. It was meant to be able to allow control of the seas. Confusing... Shaseig heard a laugh. He looked at the Algace and the apothecaries. They weren't smiling never mind laughing...
Sessions Archive
Session 03 -- 'The Long and the Short of It'
The words of Chiaflitt were brief but had an impact on both Tuan Zi and Rennaissance. The Empire of Br'Tagne was threatening to make a preemptive strike to destroy the Kingdom of Ranthurm before it could establish itself. Led by Black Marshal, Sir Corsemail, Baron of Spines, a force of aerial knights had descended on Templeton and made off with its greatest relic... the 'Chromean Jaw'. This was said to be the last embodiment of dragon-kind and the only portion to have been brought safely from the Old Realm to the New. The Tempest under Chiaflitt's leadership, had been entrusted with it by the last, great Monstrous of that Old Realm, Apep. By Apep's might, the Tempest were hurled into ceaseless Shadow and remained for some indeterminate time, until they were again tossed outward on to Warren. There, the Tempest were called the 'Thrown' by Blackjack, once titled the 'Guardian of the House of the Dead'. Thrown Tempest fought bravely in the battles that befell the 'world of survivors'. Their latest fate was to be sent outward from Warren by the hand of Blackjack. With defeat of both the followers of the Phoenix and the forces of the Arrow looming, Blackjack saw no reason for the Tempest to suffer fiendish tortures. He interceded on their behalf with the Runestaff. The 'adjudicator of survival' allowed Blackjack his wish and impelled the Tempest off Warren and on to Logresse. With them, they took the Chromean Jaw. Somehow the forces of the emperor had learned of their great charge -- treachery on the highest. This traitor too is something that must be dealt with, but immediately the jaw must be re-taken. If not, the jaw will be used to take control of the nine Drachvigor -- the new draconics. The Br'Tagnese column moves eastward through the lands of Blarenne and Halk toward Darastur Castle and Emperor Huon. Chiaflitt awaits the companions course...
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KOHKOL: Session 02 -- Causes & Kosses
"He will live, my Liege." "The travelers spoke truly then. I dared not believe that Sir Orves could possibly survive such a horrific injury." "It may be best that the arrow shaft is left in place." "He will never fight again if so." "A thing to consider but surely there's more to life than combat?" "Aye, there's training for combat as well." "I was thinking that he might do well in the vineyard?" "Eh? Sir Orves?" "Yes, he has often come past to talk and offer his thoughts about the soil and how it might be amended by the application of some marshland plants." "Well, if you think it might be something he could apply himself to..." "I do indeed, Sire." "Well enough then. Have it arranged. I will in the meantime go to the travelers and offer them thanks and something of our best provision. They will need supplying to continue their progress through Soghn." "They will be interested in words than foodstuffs." "Yes?' "They will be keen to learn of the Ladies of the Moon, I'm near certain." "We will see if you are right then. I leave you to your ministrations." "My Liege."
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KOHKOL: Session 01 -- An Age Old Struggle
The fire-heated iron just below his chin and just on either side of his face didn’t leave Orves much choice in how to stand. If he could have carefully moved forward, he might have been able to get clear without searing his face. Belted to a pole at the waist the way he was, walking away wasn’t an option. “It comes to this, Sir Orves, master of nothing... Do you tell me of your prince’s koss’s tunnel gate or do I have you executed?” Orves made to reply. His chin touched the sharpened tip of the hot metal. He stood taller and glared at he mounted knight before him. “Not willing to talk? The cat’s got his tongue, gentlemen!” Jeers and some spittle assailed Orves. Steam hissed as the latter struck hot metal. “If you choose to, I could find you a place among my men-at-arms. Better still if you swore off your prince and pledged to me. I could use a decent master of mace and shield. Your renown might save you in this instance, Sir Orves. Pledge loyalty and I will have the brands dowsed and you and I will discuss the breaking of your former master’s koss.” Orves stood taller and hissed, “You would trust a man who swore off his fealty to another? I don’t trust you, Kalodes.” “I’m a knight aberrant, my somewhat goodly fellow. My men swear their fealty not to me but to my pledge. I promise to upend the orderliness of a place that seeks to keep good men under heel. Duke or king, I care not if that man uses his place to make other lives miserable. Now, what do you say? I can’t offer much other than booty from the dead and what you can get on your own. Still life is generous? Certainly life is more generous than death. A thing close at hand, this death, eh?” Sir Kalodes motioned to the archer standing with arrow nocked nearby. Orves didn’t want to die. An arrow through the eye was not his idea of a noble way to go. Sir Kalodes had offered him a way out. Orves considered his lord, Sir Unnertoth. The man hadn’t gifted him a new weapon or even paid his monthly stipend for some time. Such inconsistencies were reason to leave a master. Pledge-breaking though... “Enough. It’s clear to see you’re a traditionalist. Let fly, Athendos.” The archer nodded. Orves readied himself for... for what? Nothingness. He stared at the archer’s face, while the archer focused on Orves’s right eye. “Riders at the glade-edge, my lord!” “What? How many and what do they bear?” “Few are horsed, one on an array mount and all armed well enough. One has a array lion.” “Set to it, men. There’s Valon scum to fight! Get that fire stoked... Archer, did I tell you to wait? Execute that knight, now.” Athendos let fly. It was a good release. The arrow flew true and found its target. Orves’s skull was pinned to the pole behind it.
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