TheDarkDM

%5BCenter%5D%5BIMG%5Dhttps%3A%2F%2Fupload.wikimedia.org%2Fwikipedia%2Fcommons%2F2%2F2e%2FAuto_Racing_Red_Circle.svg%5B%2FIMG%5D%5B%2FCenter%5D The House of Fire Dur-Shalkhir (Region 76) (Region 80) Zimbir, The High Court of Mekhala (Region 81) Bīt Ereshkigal, The Hexacrypt Wilds (Region 22) Duke Esarhaddon III Diplomacy 7 Military 10 Economy 7 Faith 2 Intrigue 3 Expected Stat Increases: +1 Diplomacy, +1 Economy Actions: [Military 10] Invent Thaumonuclear Warheads [Ship-to-Ship Weapons] Requirements: Arcane Amplification, Nuclear Fusion, Thaumonuclear Reactors; Fissile Material resource Effect: +1 Battles [Diplomacy] Sway the Government Support of Bīt Ereshkigal (Region 22) [Diplomacy] Encourage Settlement of Region 80 [Economy] Prospect Colony in Region 80 [Economy] Explore Region 116 Non-Actions: Support all conversions by the Imperial Cult News and Rumors: ... Record Keeping Heir: Artavasdes II (Dip 3, Mil 4, Econ 1, Fai 3, Int 4) Current Treasure: 1/5 Trade Posts: 3 Uranium TP 1 (Region 76), Uranium Arcology TP (Region 76), Ice TP 2 (Region 97) Passive Treasure Income: 1/Round Land Units: 1 First Void Knight Banner Space Units: 4 DVS Tiamat DVS Bull of Heaven DVS Pazuzu [Damaged] DVS Lamassu DVS Bašmu Technologies: Tier 0: Arcane Amplification, Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry, Algorithmic Imagination, In Vivo Modification, Nuclear Fusion, Vacuum Adaptation, Xenolinguistic Cataloguing Tier 1: Thaumonuclear Reactors Military Technologies Ground Front: Man-Portable Weapons: N/A Infantry Equipment: N/A Combat Drugs and Medicine: N/A Armored Vehicles: N/A Field Fortifications: N/A Engineered Combat Organisms: N/A Space Front: Detection and Rangefinding: N/A Ship to Ship Weapons: N/A Orbit to Ground Weapons: N/A Crew and Maintenance: N/A Armor and Shields: N/A Spacecraft Propulsion: N/A Both Fronts: Electronic Warfare and Countermeasures: N/A Special Forces: N/A Logistics and Morale: N/A

Submitting some region writeups. Zimbir, The High Court of Mekhala (Region 81) History Before the War of Eternal Bombardments, the enormity of the Empire strained even the capabilities of InterPlaNet and the more esoteric technologies of Ophon. Centralization of power within the Emperor's court led to sometimes-costly delays in response to crisis, and fomented discontent among those vassal states who felt they lacked a voice in the golden halls of power. In response, and to free the High Lords of the tedious mundanity of day-to-day administration, the Emperor decreed the creation of a number of local divisions of the Imperial Bureaucracy to better administer their far-flung demesne. Among these were branches of the Imperial legal system, district courts that could litigate matters unworthy of the Supreme Imperial Court. Though their authority was limited, each served as a repository for the vast body of common law, noble lineages, and Imperial Decrees that combined to form the bedrock of law in Tekhum. Zimbir was one such repository, the least influential and least prestigious, presiding as it did over the sparsely-populated hinterlands of Mekhala. The War changed everything. Most outposts of the bureaucracy that survived the initial wave of catastrophe found themselves cut off from the aegis of Imperial power, their highest officials evacuated to Ophon while armies of subordinates and functionaries were left to fend for themselves. The mechanisms of governance were repurposed into mechanisms of survival, the great machine of Imperial oversight smashed apart to build crude states and fleeting dictatorships that were everywhere undone by the convulsive aftershocks of universal war. Everywhere, that is, save for humble Zimbir. Isolated from the intrigues of great states and the heaving aftershocks of thaumonuclear detonations, Zimbir and its priceless archive of knowledge endured. Cut off from Ophon's guidance, the legal apparatus of Zimbir attempted to function for a time. Tentative relations were established among the surviving powers spread across Mekhala, the Imperial Magistrates passing down decisions they believed would lead to compromise and recovery. Decisions that were too-frequently ignored in favor of mercurial ambition. Without the backing of Imperial power, it eventually became clear that Zimbir was little more than a relic of a more civilized age, and as their neighbors turned towards conflict and avarice the people of Zimbir turned in on themselves. The cybernetic implants designed to interface with the systems of Ophon became the mechanism by which they survived the growing privation of Mekhala, while the automated court systems at the heart of the habitat grew old and unreliable, legal algorithms and analytic subroutines catching in recursive loops and logic spirals in the absence of any true legal matters to occupy their energies. Geography While a number of substantial orbiting bodies occupy Zimbir's territory, life in the region is centered on a massive, pre-war habitat constructed by the Imperial Court. Its opulent exterior a monument to the prosperity of the pre-war period, High Court Zimbir contains living quarters for its magistrates, litigators, and support staff, their judicial chambers and legal offices, court rooms of enough size and spectacle to be worthy of the Emperor himself, and the labyrinthine warren of databanks, autoscribes, and evidence vaults that jurisdiction over an entire orbit demands. Over the centuries of abandonment and independence from Ophon many of the nearer asteroids were also colonized, serving as additional housing at first but eventually evolving into the feudal territory of the most renowned Litigator Clans. Now returned to the fold of something approaching Imperial authority, many of these far-flung fortresses and boltholes have been repurposed as additional storage for the business of the Court, and as holding cells in the event of a criminal trial. People While genetically human, the people of Zimbir bear the mark of their ancestors' cybernetic integration into Ophon's pre-war bureaucracy. With so many of the systems in the High Court reliant on these integrated machine interfaces, time and necessity only expanded the ubiquity of these implants, while isolation demanded the slow regression of their beauty and grace. Where once the magistrates of Zimbir enjoyed the regal simplicity of skin-sheer golden implants, the current generation makes do with utilitarian metal protrusions passed down from grandparent to grandchild, each one slowly accumulating a collection of minor flaws that is woven into a family history. While the average inhabitant of the habitat may only boast a few obvious prostheses, such as a mechanical limb or the ubiquitous bulge of a spinal neural port, the great Litigators and Magistrates are a biomechanical symphony, a strange beauty emerging from the grotesque asymmetry of their forms. The imposition of the House of Fire's authority over the region promises an influx of technology and resources beyond anything the region has previously enjoyed, and already some children have reached the age of majority with sleek black implants derived in the depths of Gunzir Massif, but it will take some time before the archaic living sculptures of Zimbir disappear completely. Born into a society founded on the precepts of Ophons laws, the people of Zimbir gradually became a microcosm of those laws as decades turned to centuries. Titles that were once simple professions have evolved into ceremonial positions of growing power, the law offices that once balanced the work of representation factionalizing into Litigator Clans claiming rulership over different areas of the habitat. While the Imperial Magistrates (and their descendants) are the figureheads vested in traditional authority, in practice their judgements are tempered by the very real power of the Litigator Clans who rule in their name. Or at least, so it was before the House of Fire finally broke the power of the Litigators after a decade-long campaign. Government Following the conquest of the region by the House of Fire, the military might of the Litigator Clans was officially disbanded. While the domestic functions of the station were not meddled with by the Ducal Armada, the presence of qualified technicians as well as an influx of foreign materials and spare parts only further diluted the authority of the reigning warlords. This may have precipitated further bloodshed and uprising, had Litigator Prime Apil-Sin not emerged from Ducal custody as a voice to bridge the gap between the two cultures. Made fully aware of the terrible wrath the House of Fire was capable of as well as the deep charity they were prepared to offer Zimbir, Apil-Sin convinced many of the other Litigator Clans that prosperous submission was preferable to the brave futility of rebellion. For his efforts, he was named the first Governor, ruling in the name Esarhaddon III. Meanwhile, the powers of the Imperial Magistrates has been reinvigorated. While Litigator Prime Apil-Sin attends to the domestic reorganization of the region and the Ducal Corps of Engineers carries out desperately-required maintenance, the Imperial Magistrates have new case loads to consider. Integration of Zimbir with Dur-Shalkhir's legal apparatus has resulted in the resolution of many age-old deadlocks in the archive systems and among the Magistrates themselves, and new precedent has begun to emerge at last from this surviving bastion of Imperial order. Resources Resource: Lawyers (Specialists, Information and Data) Trained from birth, the chosen members of the Litigator Clans possess an encyclopedic knowledge (in many cases aided by their cybernetic implants) of Imperial Common Law and are trained in rhetorical techniques ranging from the high civility of Ophon's court to the lethal simplicity of trial by combat. Freed from the demands of internecine strife, these legal experts are now available to any Elect with the fortitude to embrace their legal code. Desired Import: Arts and Cultural Products As systemic shortfalls are reversed and the tensions of inter-clan rivalry dissipate, many inhabitants of Zimbir are free to pursue the higher callings of art and beauty for the first time. However, for all its apparent majesty the habitat is a poor place for free expression. Too much of Zimbir is dedicated to the dry work of case law and contract, and so the people look to the Empire at large to satisfy their souls. Bīt Ereshkigal, The Hexacrypt Wilds (Region 22) History Located punishingly near to the site of the White Pawns' apocalyptic resistance to the Empire, much of what once stood atop the Hexacrypt Wilds has been irrevocably lost. The corpses of vast cities and staggering infrastructure projects endured no better than bone or sinew against the radiant fires of the War of Eternal Bombardments, and were abandoned as cursed earth by those who survived. While none were so foolish as to abandon technology as a whole in the wake of the war, none who scrabbled to survive the aftermath wished to return to the days of madness. A sleepy, forgotten culture grew up in the cracks of the apocalypse, and might have remained so were it not for the enterprising work of one young woman. Her name is lost, scrubbed from living memory and digital record, but she was an engineer in a land of farmers. Somehow, she rediscovered a means of interfacing with the infrastructure that had survived the war, burrowed under her peoples' feet like the work of a trillion ants. At first, she used her "powers" subtly, re-engaging water filtration systems or the uplinks to the few surviving weather satellites, but as the prosperity of her town and those near it grew so did suspicion. Too knowledgeable of her peoples' prejudices to risk the truth, the woman vanished into the wilderness, and the brewing scandal died. Until she began to appear in their dreams. Taking refuge in a central hub of the old world, the first Baba was not content to leave her work half-done. She envisioned a brighter symbiosis between her people and the quiescent technology beneath their feet, and was dedicated, perhaps obsessed, with realizing that dream. Tapping into the water filtration system, she unleashed a flood of tailored nanobots into the region's water supply, and within a month enough of the microrobots had embedded in the brains of her people to establish contact. Drawing the from their dreams into the first datastream, she plucked recruits from among the exceptional and the disaffected of a hundred communities, training the first generation of data witches even as the wider populace slowly awakened to the shared reality of their new lucid dreams. Some, fearing some outside force, tried to resist, but they quietly disappeared into the mists of history. Whether the first Baba eventually died or became something more than human is not known, but from their first generation the data witches have watched over the people of the Wilds as unpredictable, sometimes capricious guardians. The arrival of the outside world threw this balance of power into chaos. While some witches and their allies among the local councils welcomed the might and majesty of the Empire, others resisted it with bitter will. The ancient technologies that had connected the people to their digital reality were repurposed to create legions of cyborg warriors, and though their homunculi were defeated the witches remain. Now they wait and watch, hiding in plain sight, as a new domed palace rises from what was once old growth forest and sorcerers with fiery eyes turn their attentions to the datastream. eography Stretching along the eastern coastline of Zabava, Bīt Ereshkigal descends from a sinuous line of western mountains through towering deciduous forests into coastal lowlands that frequently give way to swamps. Once jagged and wild, the terrain has worn down under the weight of millennia, becoming a rolling tapestry of green, grey, and black. Not so the forests it embraces, however - the wilderness of what was once known as the Hexacrypt Wilds is the equal of any on Sansar, save perhaps the untamed nightmare of the Reserve to its south. The bright lights of sparsely-scattered civilization are almost swallowed by the arboreal gloom, and a complete catalogue of the mutated flora and fauna has not been attempted in the post-war period. For all that hostility, civilization does thrive in Bīt Ereshkigal. Small towns and villages thrive in forest clearings and along lazy rivers, while rugged mountain camps draw wealth from the black earth. This wealth flows down to the coast, where a handful of small cities thrive on trade and the quiet indifference of more bellicose neighbors. To the naked eye, it might seem quaint, but the naked eye can only perceive half the truth of Bīt Ereshkigal. Hovering above the towns and cities in an invisible haze is the datumplume of its inhabitants, an augmented reality tended to and ruled by the unseen data witches that command fear and respect in every household. In this second sight, towns become glistening towers of light and shadow, and the humble cities are transformed into soaring digital metropolises. This digital reality stretches along the subterranean ley-lines of fiberoptic cable and circuit left behind after the War of Eternal Bombardments, the arcanodigital circuitry alive with digital ghosts. People The people of Bīt Ereshkigal exist, much like their civilization, in two worlds. In the real world, the largely human inhabitants nurture an insular culture of extended family ties and old grudges, though these rarely give rise to violence. Rather, the small communities dotting the Hexacrypt Wilds give little thought to the people living outside their immediate sphere, tending their own fences rather than peering through them. However, this provincial attitude is turned on its head in dataspace. Divorced of the reality of the physical world, the inhabitants of Bīt Ereshkigal manifest avatars reflecting their inmost selves (and those who seek to deceive or dissemble with their True Face are invariably punished by the Data Witches). Through a wireless connection that manifests as REM sleep in the outside world, the inhabitants of Bīt Ereshkigal skim the length and breadth of their digital paradise, indulging in revelry and debauch that does the High Lords of Ophon proud. Government The communities of Bīt Ereshkigal are organized around democratically organized municipal councils, a collection of reeves and mayors that only rarely come together to form anything resembling a centralized government. While this fractured jumble of authority would normally leave the region vulnerable to exploitation or attack, there is another power at play that acts to unite the scattered communities. The digital realm is also divided along more esoteric lines, each datastream overseen by the dictatorial will of one of the Data Babas. These elder data witches wield staggering power over the constructed reality overlaying Bīt Ereshkigal, to the extent of manifesting phenomena in the physical world if they are sufficiently angered. While they are insular and inscrutable, the Babas are aligned in a singular coven that protects their ambitions and their interests. Though their power waned in the days of occupation after the Eucrus Alliance defeated their warrior Mechadea, the House of Fire has made tentative overtures to bring the Babas more securely into the fold. Certainly, the ancient circuitry that fuels their powers is a miracle of the old world, and greatly of interest to the Imperial Cult. Meanwhile, the regional councils have bent the knee to a Ducal Governor installed in the quickly-growing new city of Irkalla. Resources Resource: Roleplaying Games (Art and Cultural Products, Magical Items) While the reality of the datastream is ever-shifting, there exist rites and rituals to capture a facsimile of it in a set form. This form of protean code carries with it the echoed thoughts and desires of every inhabitant of Bīt Ereshkigal, and is capable of reacting to fulfill the fantasies of those who interface with it through the potency of those echoes. Desired Import: Planetary Vehicles While the people of Bīt Ereshkigal enjoy limitless mobility in the datastream, that freedom is far harder to find on the material plane. The dangers of the Hexacrypt Wilds are manifold, and if the region is to prosper beyond the digital phantoms of its inhabitants dreams then a reliable means of transport between mountain, forest, and coast will need to be established.

Befitting an event of such prestige as the Dash, Duke Esarhaddon III and his Duchess had chosen to attend together, socializing easily with the other luminaries in the VIP dome. There is little to distinguish their presence from earlier years for most of the preamble, until a coded alert springs up on Esarhaddon's subcutaneous transmitter. As if summoned by the nondescript flash of code, a blazing star detaches from the surrounding sky and resolves into the monstrous drive plume of a ship very familiar to the veterans of the first Mad Dash. Outside, transmitting on an open channel, comes the first scream of a valkyrie war cry. "Ani'Quin, you son of a bitch! I hope you didn't think I was missing this show!" The Lilin howled past the already-lit starting line, under thrust that would have been impossible were it not for the questionably-treasonous work of Naram-Lu and Naqi'a's quiescent engineering team.

%5BCenter%5D%5BIMG%5Dhttps%3A%2F%2Fupload.wikimedia.org%2Fwikipedia%2Fcommons%2F2%2F2e%2FAuto_Racing_Red_Circle.svg%5B%2FIMG%5D%5B%2FCenter%5D The House of Fire Dur-Shalkhir (Region 76) Region 80 Region 81 Duke Esarhaddon III Diplomacy 6 Military 9 Economy 7 Faith 2 Intrigue 3 Expected Stat Increases: +1 Diplomacy, +1 Military Actions: [Diplomacy] Sway Government Support in Region 81 - 22 [Diplomacy] Attend the Mekhala-Veehra Dash of 2050 Event Sub-Actions Accept Thaumonuclear Reactors technology from the House of Brimstone Accept control of Region 22 from the Eucrus Alliance [Military] Raise 1 Space Unit The DVS Bašmu emerges from the Eye of Esarhaddon. [Military] Join the Space Front above Region 37 with 4 Space Units, assisting Fiorid forces. Turtanu-Ziqpu Ra'ima (Mil 8) takes command, attempting Measured Advance (-10% casualties for both sides) As the fleets of the House of Fire and the Glorious Purifiers close above the terminator of Sansar, herald ships from both sides speed towards one another. With the fleets little more than fields of distant, oncoming stars, representatives of the Ducal Diplomatic Corps and the Purification Council meet to agree to terms. Neither side wishes to see Sansar suffer for this territorial dispute over the marches of the Illuminate Utopian, or to rawaken the quiexcent nightmare of the War of Eternal Bombardments. In that spirit, the battle plans of each side are redrafted away from total annihilation, while munitions yields are reduced to prevent the dispersal of calamitous fallout in orbit. Furthermore, whichever side wins the day in orbit, both House of Fire and Glorious Purifiers commit to a limitation in orbital bombardment to low-yield kinetic weapons or their equivalents. [Economy] Donate 1 Treasure to the Imperial Court's Extraordinary Research Grants Approval Non-Actions: Support all conversions by the Imperial Cult News and Rumors: Following a series of clandestine negotiations between representatives of the Eucrus Alliance and the Ducal Diplomatic Corps, a proclamation is delivered at the conclusion of the Mekhala-Veehra Dash. Though divided by many thousands of miles and the brutal dictates of survival, Duke Esarhaddon III recognizes the kanmara as fundamentally human. Stripping to his waist, the Duke allows the Alliance representative to scar the muscle above his heart, a declaration of friendship to bind the two farthest-flung children of Mekhala. In recognition and gratitude for the integration of Sansarite territory into the demesne of the House of Fire, Duke Esarhaddon III recognizes the claim of the Eucrus Alliance on the space separating the House of Fire from the chaos engulfing Bloodlord Peter's Reign of Blood. Should stability return to their leal Khylokian neighbors, the Duke pledges to affirm an undisputed territory to the Alliance, that they might at long last return home. Record Keeping Heir: Artavasdes II (Dip 3, Mil 4, Econ 1, Fai 3, Int 4) Current Treasure: 1/5 Trade Posts: 3 Uranium TP 1 (Region 76), Uranium Arcology TP (Region 76), Ice TP 2 (Region 97) Passive Treasure Income: 1/Round Land Units: 1 First Void Knight Banner Space Units: 4 DVS Tiamat DVS Bull of Heaven DVS Pazuzu DVS Lamassu Technologies: Arcane Amplification, Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry, Algorithmic Imagination, In Vivo Modification, Nuclear Fusion, Vacuum Adaptation, Xenolinguistic Cataloguing Military Technologies Ground Front: Man-Portable Weapons: N/A Infantry Equipment: N/A Combat Drugs and Medicine: N/A Armored Vehicles: N/A Field Fortifications: N/A Engineered Combat Organisms: N/A Space Front: Detection and Rangefinding: N/A Ship to Ship Weapons: N/A Orbit to Ground Weapons: N/A Crew and Maintenance: N/A Armor and Shields: N/A Spacecraft Propulsion: N/A Both Fronts: Electronic Warfare and Countermeasures: N/A Special Forces: N/A Logistics and Morale: N/A

Reeling away from Doom Soom, the remnants of Belu's armored left arm clamped shut automatically, the inbuilt nanotourniquets fighting desperately to keep him conscious. His remaining arm quivering against the pain, Belu charged towards the nearest fighter to him, his monorapier extended towards the Keon Night with murderous intent.

Allowing the wounded Console to withdraw, Belu spun to face the enraged monster that the Kildoran heir had become. They came together in a desperate grapple, Belu straining for some leverage to bring his monorapier to bear, Doom Soom seeking to bury him in scales. It was a near run thing for both, as the edge of Belu's monorapier came within centimeters of severing the tangled mass of serpents at the root, before he was hurled away by Doom Soom with a triumphant cry, his armored left arm left tangled, limp and bloody, in the serpents' jaws.

Belu had dropped into a fighting stance as soon as the second of silence had concluded, crouching with his armored limb held forward like the prow of some ancient ship. Set upon by a machine rather than an opponent of flesh and blood, he nevertheless endeavored to block the gunshots crackling through the air to stab through some vital piece of machinery. Bleeding from several minor wounds that quickly scabbed over thanks to his adrenapigment, Belu engaged Prisca in a lightning exchange between monorapier and mechacaestus. His armored limb rattled as he struggled to contest a strength driven by reactor and hydraulics, the humming point of his sword seeking a weak point. At last the storm parted, and as Belu leapt clear of the Console's mech it was clear the vile machine had been compromised, the socket of its left leg struggling against a crippling thrust, one caestus smashed to uselessness against the diamond-hard spike of Belu's gauntlet.

The House of Fire would not attend this new Bloodsport in force. The Games had been a staple of culture on Dur-Shalkhir for centuries, and while the Duke held little love for the spectacle of the hoi polloi he was disinclined to grant his implicit blessing to this more savage, upstart endeavor. Still, the Master of Games was not a man to be outshone, and so a passenger liner of House make appeared to answer the call. Inside traveled Belu, a recent darling of the Games, his broad shoulders and familiarity with low gravity indicative of his childhood in Industri-fief Tupsha. Skill on the sand had granted him reprieve from the mines, and drunk on victory he envisioned no future save glory. When the bald native of Dur-Shalkhir strode into the arena, it was with the practiced flair of the entertainer. Stripped to his specialized armor, most of his skin was covered by nothing but stark white adrenal paint, the tacky substance providing both pain-killer and coagulant against wounds. His left arm was sheathed in interlocking layers of gilded titanium alloy, ending in a spiked gauntlet, while a simple nano-mesh sleeve was all that protected the arm holding a humming, basket-hilted monorapier. The helmet secured atop his head gave the impression of a beast of legend, one of the fabled "lions" as if caught and sculpted in flame. Only his face bore a color beyond chromium black and ghostly white, as four jagged streaks of red fell from right temple to the left mandible of his jaw. Striding onto the killing field, he spread both arms wide and roared a response to the shrieking crowd. Three times, his bellow nearly drowned them out, and each time the mob responded with greater furor. Satisfied at last, he raised the point of his monrapier towards the broadcasting equipment transmitting the match back to the intranets of Dur-Shalkhir, then out towards the brilliance of the inner systems. "FOR DUKE! FOR EMPEROR! FOR GLORY!"

%5BCenter%5D%5BIMG%5Dhttps%3A%2F%2Fupload.wikimedia.org%2Fwikipedia%2Fcommons%2F2%2F2e%2FAuto_Racing_Red_Circle.svg%5B%2FIMG%5D%5B%2FCenter%5D The House of Fire Dur-Shalkhir (Region 76) Duke Esarhaddon III Diplomacy 5 Military 9 Economy 6 Faith 2 Intrigue 3 Expected Stat Increases: +1 Diplomacy, +1 Economy Actions: [Diplomacy] Create a Confederation Claim on Region 78 (Spend 1 Treasure, +1 Renown) - 7 [Diplomacy 5] Introduce Cultural Identity - Imperial Heritage (Sway Supports) [Economy] Colonize Region 80 - 13 [Economy] Buy Out TP 1 of Space Opera in Region 83 - 13 [Diplomacy] Raise Reputation with the Imperial Court (2 > 3) - 16 Non-Actions: Support all conversions by the Imperial Cult Support the Khylokian Reign of Blood's buyout of Uranium TP 3 News and Rumors: In 2046, all of Dur-Shalkhir rejoices as the royal couple of Artavasdes II and Monite Ebonne welcome a daughter into the world. The celebration lasts a week, and goes down in memory as a time of singular pageantry, until it is matched and exceeded by the celebration to welcome their second daughter in 2048. Both girls are born in the heart of Dur-Shalkhir itself, nurtured by the Core Seers and their doting parents, giving rise to a popular belief that they are fated for singular greatness. Record Keeping Heir: Artavasdes II (Dip 3, Mil 4, Econ 1, Fai 3, Int 4) Current Treasure: 1/5 Trade Posts: 3 Uranium TP 1 (Region 76), Uranium Arcology TP (Region 76), Ice TP 2 (Region 97) Passive Treasure Income: 1/Round Land Units: 1 First Void Knight Banner Space Units: 4 DVS Tiamat DVS Bull of Heaven DVS Pazuzu DVS Lamassu Technologies: Arcane Amplification, Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry, Algorithmic Imagination, In Vivo Modification, Nuclear Fusion, Vacuum Adaptation, Xenolinguistic Cataloguing Military Technologies Ground Front: Man-Portable Weapons: N/A Infantry Equipment: N/A Combat Drugs and Medicine: N/A Armored Vehicles: N/A Field Fortifications: N/A Engineered Combat Organisms: N/A Space Front: Detection and Rangefinding: N/A Ship to Ship Weapons: N/A Orbit to Ground Weapons: N/A Crew and Maintenance: N/A Armor and Shields: N/A Spacecraft Propulsion: N/A Both Fronts: Electronic Warfare and Countermeasures: N/A Special Forces: N/A Logistics and Morale: N/A

"The compliment was meant for you, Lady Hekla. It is yours to do with as you will." Moving around to face Hekla, Ana-Tashmetum-taklak reclined against a nearby stone balustrade. "Please forgive me, it is so easy to forget the weight of history you have lived. One struggles to fathom it." Amber eyes danced over Hekla's pale face, their color almost lost as the Duchess' irises expanded against the night. The Duchess was too well-bred to pry further, but there was a silent invitation in her gaze, an offer, if not of understanding, then at least of empathy.

"Ani-Quin! Glad to see you're still with us." Naqi'a reaches over to give her fellow racer a slap on the shoulder. The sharp points of her nails dig in for a momentary squeeze. "With any luck the Industrial Coalition won't be sending any stray rockets into the race next time and we can concentrate on the important things." Releasing Ani-Quin's shoulder, she brings her fingers together in a sphere before splaying them apart. "Dusting Kylokians." A trill of laughter follows, extinguished by a sip of champagne. While the racers have talked, Naqi'a's immature Mother Serpent has made its way through the uncertain crowd to coil once more into a makeshift throne for her. Leaning back against the salt-white scales, she idly taps the base of her glass against the snake, raising a pure crystalline toll. "My pleasure Alud." The tip of her tongue runs along her upper teeth as the Soom prince conjures his straw. It pauses in a strange smile when Velocipede responds. "Then there's hope for this party yet."

The Ducal Yacht of the House of Fire had become a common presence in the orbit of Sansar, servicing the warring responsibilities of a family forged together by the wedding of mutual heirs. However, while Artavasdes II and Monite were representing their families on distant Badal, the yacht arrived with a distant passenger. Emerging from the sleek Mekhalan shuttle, the Duchess Ana-Tashmetum-taklak flowed through the waiting crowds in a gown of liquid gold, two handmaidens dipped in amber following in her wake. Though her concerns and those of her husband were primarily temporal following the return of the Core Seers, the Duchess had judged it necessary to stand in support of their fellow faithful among the Llort Protectorate and the Reign of Blood. That it provided an opportunity to observe The Parasite directly was simply added benefit. The Duchess had watched the debate with great interest, her face hidden behind a delicate fan of black silk, removed only momentarily to salute Flightmaster Paco as well as Magister Sage Jénou. Even as the day's trials set into night's festivities, she remained aloof, amber eyes drinking in the crowd until she noticed the elderly Flightmaster detach himself from the milieu. Hoping to congratulate him, the Duchess drifted forward, only to witness the scene unfolding between Paco and his unexpected admirers. Including the uncharacteristic retreat of a scion of House Fiore. She had met Hekla once before, at the wedding in Caipe Ushere, and now Ana-Tashmetum-taklak allowed her maternal instincts to supersede matters of state. Following Hekla like a gilded shadow, the Duchess waited until they were alone before snapping her fan open to announce her presence. "Your family keeps an exquisite home, Lady Hekla."

Snatching a brief moment alone with Monite, Artavasdes stared down at the swirling clouds while holding her gently. Well aware that his wife was no doubt mid-composition of a new poem, he leaned down to murmur softly in her ear. "Benighted and cursed though this world may be, it does nurture a certain beauty." He stole a kiss behind her ear, once more fighting down his confusion that a human being could produce so much hair. Later... At Shi Lithium's approach, Artavasdes turned with military precision. Inclining his head to an equal in nobility, he allowed Monite to speak before clarifying for the Archknight. "And the House of Fire. Stories of your prowess have reached us in Mekhala, sir knight. I look forward to a display of your skill." Artavasdes II enters the tournament! Knightly Duel: +7 Pirate Brawl: +4 (Heir Score) Caged Streetfight: +7 (Miltiary)

Striding from the Soom-Clan speeder behind Alud is a phantom swathed in smoke-grey robes, a silver mask obscuring their face. It stands ominously in the arched hatch, blank eyes watching the scion of Veehra make his triumphant entrance, and only once it has been dismissed as a bodyguard does it move again. Taking its first step onto the red carpet, a red-nailed hand emerged from its voluminous depths, snapping ivory fingers and summoning a spark from some hidden mechanism. At once, the gossamer threads of the billowing robe erupt in a flash of scarlet flames, sending spirals of silk-thin embers blowing into the void above. The silver mask falls, and revealed in the phantoms place is the statuesque figure of Naqi'a, Lady of Fire, the Thrice-Crowned Wings of Night. Starting from a high collar and sliding down full sleeves, her dress only parts in a long slit revealing the fangs of golden stilettos. It might have been a somewhat chaste affair, were the entire dress not woven of translucent snakeskin. Dyed a smoky grey, it gives the illusion of a liquid layer of smoky quartz cascading down Naqi'a's body from a gold and ruby approximation of a racer's vacuum collar. Red lipstick and explosive streaks of red eyeshadow frame her emerald eyes, bright with amusement, and as she bares her teeth in a smile she unleashes a trilling whistle. Something stirs in the still-yawning darkness of the speeder, and as Naqi'a laughs with gay abandon an enormous serpent emerges into the light. Making its way to Naqia's feet, it wraps itself in lazy coils until the scion of the House of Fire can recline against it as a sibilant throne, her long nails scratching idly at its underbelly. Inside... A flute of Ushere champagne in either hand, Naqi'a pierces the veil of fans and onlookers surrounding the impromptu reunion of Mad Dashers. "Don't sell yourself short, Velocipede. You Sansarites squirrel away nuclear ordnance in libraries - I'm sure if we put you on the spot you could at least manage a fission device." Moving next to Alud, she slides one of the champagne flutes into his empty hands. "Have you told the Console-Elect what else you can navigate by touch?"

%5BCenter%5D%5BIMG%5Dhttps%3A%2F%2Fupload.wikimedia.org%2Fwikipedia%2Fcommons%2F2%2F2e%2FAuto_Racing_Red_Circle.svg%5B%2FIMG%5D%5B%2FCenter%5D The House of Fire Dur-Shalkhir (Region 76) Duke Esarhaddon III Diplomacy 5 Military 7 Economy 6 Faith 2 Intrigue 3 Expected Stat Increases: +2 Military Actions: [Military] Invade Region 81 with 2 Space Units under the command of Turtanu-Ziqpu Ra'ima (Mil 8) attempting In the Light of Chastising Stars (+2 to battle), Spending 1 Treasure (+1 Gunzir Massif) [Military] Raise 1 Space Unit The shattered superstructure of the DVS Bull of Heaven is recovered in the opening days of the renewed assault on the Imperial Bar, returned to the shipyards of the Eye of Esarhaddon for retrofit and rechristening. [Military] Salvage the Crashed Warship in Region 47, Spending 1 Treasure - 13 [Military] Sack Trade Post 3 of Unblemished Wreckage in the Moonsoul Mountains (Region 44) using 1 Space Unit and 1 Ground Unit - 10 Sub-Action: Attempt to steal 1 Renown from the Glorious Purifiers [Diplomacy] Raise Reputation with the Imperial Court (1 > 2) - 15 Non-Actions: Support all conversions by the Imperial Cult Support the conversion of the Merely Players in Dur-Shalkhir Accept the embassy of The Shattered Coven News and Rumors: ... Record Keeping Heir: Artavasdes II (Dip 3, Mil 4, Econ 1, Fai 3, Int 4) Current Treasure: 1/5 Trade Posts: 3 Uranium TP 1 (Region 76), Uranium Arcology TP (Region 76), Ice TP 2 (Region 97) Passive Treasure Income: 1/Round Land Units: 1 First Void Knight Banner Space Units: 3 DVS Tiamat DVS Bull of Heaven (Destroyed) DVS Pazuzu DVS Lamassu Technologies: Arcane Amplification, Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry, Algorithmic Imagination, In Vivo Modification, Nuclear Fusion, Vacuum Adaptation, Xenolinguistic Cataloguing Military Technologies Ground Front: Man-Portable Weapons: N/A Infantry Equipment: N/A Combat Drugs and Medicine: N/A Armored Vehicles: N/A Field Fortifications: N/A Engineered Combat Organisms: N/A Space Front: Detection and Rangefinding: N/A Ship to Ship Weapons: N/A Orbit to Ground Weapons: N/A Crew and Maintenance: N/A Armor and Shields: N/A Spacecraft Propulsion: N/A Both Fronts: Electronic Warfare and Countermeasures: N/A Special Forces: N/A Logistics and Morale: N/A