Doorstep

Once the epitome of advancement and wonderment, this ancient city has suffered an apocalyptic catastrophe and now drowns deeper into destruction as schemes and further disasters threaten to tear it asunder. Hope has long since left the land... but some have refused to surrender their place in the sun
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Alistair
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Doorstep

Thu Apr 11, 2019 1:05 am

Ashan 38, Arc 719
Today was the trial, where Alistair had planned to first enter Tyros in order to survey the island for settlements, defensible positions, agricultural layout and other things necessary to determine for its conquest. Though he wished to acquire the island peacefully both to retain more manpower and hold a healthier bond with the native population, the mage wished to be utterly prepared for all scenarios. It was plausible that the Tirano people would not allow Alistair the same privileges that the Koroskai had, considering they were far less threatened by both the Saltfetchers and foreign bureaucracies. Though the aforementioned threats would likely eventually lead to their dissemination, to them, the more immediate threat was Alistair himself.

He was the enemy upon their doorstep, surely, or he would be the moment he came upon the island, took his first settlement and declared the conquest of Tyros in motion. If not through an overwhelming show of force, how would he acquire their fealty? Compared to the other Helian Isles, their realm prospered.

"My Lord," Aeneas called to him. "The Tirano are a cutthroat people. If you give them the opportunity, they will dig a sarissa through your skull. And they are not driven by logic as we Koroskai are - your words of warning and offers of what growth you might bring will fall utterly deaf on their ears. The people of Tyros respect only the game; mythos, legend, and the trial of sport. The champion of Arsineaus Medea; the champions of their hippodrome. And yet you cannot learn these sports, for during the seasons it shall require in Agaperos for you to master them, the Argonis will surely send an agent of theirs to sever your throat from your skull. A hundred assassins if necessary; eventually, one shall succeed."

The mage heeded his words, nodding in reply to the man, who stood before him in a simple robe with a gladius hilted at his side. "What would you suggest I do, then?" Alistair asked. Though he did not promise to deliver upon Aeneas' expectations, he wondered of the man's political tact. He appeared to be knowledgeable enough; so much so that the mage considered adding the man directly unto his council, though in what position he was uncertain.

"Well, I--"

"Lord Venora!" a man yelled, opening the door to the chambers of the former mayoral estate. It had become somewhat open to the public at this point, as the mage did not wish to appear too distant from his newly acquired subjects.

The man that entered was clearly in haste. He was young, somewhat scrawny, and panting for breath. "A member of the Argonis is here for you," he said. "He wishes to invite you to speak with him on his boat, and to come with him to Tyros. He has said that he will wait as long as His Lordship requires, but aches to meet such a man as His Lordship, Alistair."

The mage smirked, tapping his fingertip against his chin. "Oh does he, now?" Alistair questioned. "How fortuitous, Aeneas. It looks as if the Gods might have offered us a suggestion of their own. The Argonis lead Tyros, yes?" he asked. All of their conversation had been spoken in Vahanic, though the mage still managed to speak in an aristocratic dialect. His words were methodical... perhaps slow at times, but utterly deliberate. He had quickly attuned to the Koroskai dialect in particular and had crafted his own method of regal speech, speaking formally through their terms.

"Not directly, but... indirectly. It is complicated; Tyros' settlements claim to be free states determined by the wills of the people. Their policy is determined by public votes. It just so happens that the way the teams bend always determines the outcome of said votes, and they are typically consulted as gatekeepers of any policy," he said.

The mage rolled his eyes. It was yet another formal-informal dynamic of hegemonic leadership that pretended not to be. An inefficient alternative to Nobility.

"I see," he replied. "Good enough. I will speak to this man immediately," he said, standing from his chair and looking to the one who had come to the estate so hastily. Alistair recognized his name as Philippos. "What was his name?" he asked.

"Arios," Philippos replied.

"Arios," muttered the mage, nodding to his self-appointed courier and heading towards the direction of the harbor.
word count: 746
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Alistair
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Re: Doorstep

Thu Apr 11, 2019 2:21 am



Upon that unevenly docked boat was a man. And as Alistair approached him, it was unlike approaching any other man before him.

His smile was quiet, yet spoke many words. It was a smile of familiarity, as if the two men had known one another for so long. As if he were meeting a long lost brother after decades of separation, a fateful moment accompanied by the rising of the dawn that lingered behind him. The water quietly rippled, and despite the ambience he could feel and almost hear his heart thrumming. Alistair almost believed the illusion brought upon him by the man's smile, as it grew as he drew nearer; as it even bled into the Helian man's eyes.

When finally the mage stepped to the wooden bridge that connected him to the other's humble watery abide, the Argonis extended his hand outward only for a butterfly to escape his palm through flight. Everything he had heard of the Tirano was true - they were a theatrical people indeed. Never, even in Venora, had Alistair ever felt upon a first impression as he did right now. The two men had not even spoken to one another. When Alistair finally boarded the vessel and his boots hit the wooden ground, they simply stared into one another's eyes. Blue met gold, an amber blush met a clear but tan hue.

"Alistair," the other man introduced the Lord, for him.

"Arios," he introduced the other man back. They remained in locked eyes that remained stagnant upon one another for a time, until Alistair hesitantly looked away, glancing sideways to Aeneas in order to dismiss the man - or at least, so it appeared. There were many reasons why he needed to look away. Many disadvantages that came with being locked in such an amorous stare with a man he wished to conquer... in the literal sense.

"Lord of Koros," Arios continued.

"Argonis of Tyros," Alistair replied back, grinning faintly as they continued their dance. He'd regained some of his composure, yet still the air was thick with tension. Of a sort he had not expected so soon, though he knew he would eventually feel as he did towards one or more of the locals. It was the prerogative of a King to desire his subjects, after all, and to be unanimously desired in return.

But this man was... not his subject; not yet, at least. And Alistair could not imagine that he stood where he did merely to offer fealty - not a man with such an impressive aura as he did. Even in the face of the Lucis who towered above ordinary men, and had conquered the Koroskai in but a night, Arios looked up to the mage as if he were his equal.

"Should we..." Alistair gestured towards the cabin that protruded above the surface of the deck. He was inferring, perhaps, that he wished to speak in there or... something. He wanted privacy. That was clear enough.

"Yes," the man replied. "We should."
word count: 514
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Alistair
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Re: Doorstep

Thu Apr 11, 2019 2:22 am

Arios quickly guided the two into the cabin, parting the wooden door to reveal an impressively cozy dark mahogany colored room with a mix of standard and ornate furniture. There was a wardrobe, desk, a closet and small recreational area with multiple ottomans and pillows, as well as an impressively large bed plugged into the wall.

"What was your name again?" the Lord teased, and the Argonis laughed.

"Arios," replied the Tirano man, as he moved towards the bed and seated himself against the edge of the frame.

"Arios," Alistair spoke back in a whisper.

"Why have you come to our islands, Alistair, Lord of the House of Venora? I have heard some whispers of you... that you do not even come from the Broken Lands," he referred to Quacia, "...but from lands much farther. Where are these lands, My Lord? I have never heard of any realm but ours and the Broken One, and stories from long ago of a forested domain where a God and Goddess reign. Are these stories true?"

The Noble looked to the other with as much curiosity as Arios offered him. Alistair realized, then, that Helians were wholly unaware of the outside world; they must have had no knowledge of Rynmere, Ne'haer, Etzos, Ivorian, even the Eternal Empire. Even Desnind, so near to them, was a mystery referred to in vague terms.

"It seems you refer to Desnind. If so, then yes - the stories are true. And there are more... 'Gods' and 'Goddesses' on our world than just Moseke and Ymiden. They are called the Immortals, and they are many. Surely you must have heard of the Immortals before?"

"Ah... the Immortals," responded the Argonis. "Yes, of course. They are, uhm... sort of like -- watchful spirits? They may hear prayers but scarcely answer them, and don't tend to provide anything very useful. Not like the gifts the Gods give us," he said.

He referred to Domain Magic. Alistair knew that now, after his trip to Mynea. The way their religion operated, so predicated upon the arcane. It was befitting of a Quacian off-shoot, though he wondered how they'd become so ignorant of the outside world in merely four hundred arcs since the Cataclysm. He supposed knowledge of the global landscape was a pitiable concern of theirs, and without the means to travel all that they knew had been reduced to speculation.

To a lighter degree, mainland Quacians were similar.

"More importantly, Arios," Alistair directed their conversation, "what do you wish to speak of? You have come to offer me your company - but for what purpose? You must understand, I am not--"

"Shhh," the mixed-blood replied. Alistair's gaze immediately caught onto his again - he was undoubtedly attractive. Arios had tan skin and an athletic form, tall and masculine, with a suave black hairstyle that he kept with some level of care. The shape of his features - each of them - was perfectly like that of a statue. The man was... like what the Venora should have been. That perfect marble-crafted entity that made others turn their heads.

"Lay with me, Alistair," he beckoned. The mage's thrumming heart pounded in vicious beats from within his chest; the proposition had been made. "We will speak then, of everything and all. But only while we touch."
word count: 563
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Korva
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Re: Doorstep

Wed Apr 17, 2019 3:05 pm


Image

Rewards!


Name: Alistair

Knowledge:
Skill
Logistics: Surveying before an invasion
Logistics: Peacefully acquiring settlements leads to more manpower
Tactics: Conspiring with enemy leaders in private
Negotiation: Forging a political pact through carnality

Non
Helice: Tyros
Helice: The Argonis
Helice: Tyros is a powerful island
Helice: The Tirano
Arios: A Seducer
Arios: Member of the Argonis of Miletos

Loot: NA
Injuries: NA
Renown: 5
Magic XP: NA

Points: 10
- - -
Comments: This was really interesting, its strange to think someone knows so little of the outside world but it makes sense yet to see it in play was different. And omfg Ali, can you ever not be a flirt?! XD

If you feel I've missed anything or if you have questions about your review, please don't hesitate to send me a quick PM or ping me in Discord. Thanks!

**Made by the magnificent Kes
word count: 152
ન'ઊળઇ૯ ૧એ૪ઇ૮ ઔનઌઈઇ પઇ, પબ ઇબઇ૮ ૯રશ૧ મકઇ ૧એબ. --Korva
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