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The Slave and Her Sovereign
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<blockquote data-quote="darkbard" data-source="post: 9274543" data-attributes="member: 1282"><p>Okay, getting mechanical details out of the way first. The PCs are now at 28,000/32,000 needed for L12. </p><p></p><p>[USER=20459]@Nephis[/USER] and I talked over possible rewards, what would be most fictionally interesting/fitting that builds out of what just transpired. With that in mind, [USER=20459]@Nephis[/USER] has chosen the Elemental Gift Alternative Reward <em><strong>Gift of Chaos</strong></em>, with the rationale being that the magical detonation set off by the Duchess of Cinders's crucible has left an enduring transformation in Pa'avu, "infecting" her with some of the roiling elemental chaos caused by the explosion as Pa'avu shielded others from harm with her body. The Elemental Gift even comes with some deleterious outcomes in its random roll, so that seems to capture the flavor of being so "touched" by Primordial power.</p><p></p><p>Now, on to the framing...</p><p></p><p>[HR][/HR]</p><p><em>The Empress's chambers are a vast and sprawling affair, some dozens of discrete rooms feeding into and off of one another in mazelike confusion: bedchambers for Her Imperial Majesty and her handmaidens, meeting chambers, dining chambers, libraries, parlors, a music hall, the list goes on. It is an open question as to whether the Empress would ever have need to leave her chambers at all ... or if she ever has.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>First to meet the heroes is Sovelis, chamberlain to Her Majesty Scheherezade, an aloof but mercurial Eladrin with long silver hair and opalescent eyes of vibrant blue, devoid of pupils.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>He sniffs as he reads over Bita-Bahlin's letter. "I have served the Imperial family for three centuries. It breaks with all tradition for any newcomer to Her Imperial Splendour's court to skip the ... extensive ... vetting process by the chamberlain and his staff. But I suppose even the chamberlain must be fluid under the new dispensation..." his voice trails off wearily.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>"Follow me to the Hall of Ancestors. Her Imperial Magnificence is communing."</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The chamber to which Sovelis leads them is staggering in its opulence. Thick, woven carpets on tiled floor. Intricately carved wooden furnishings. A hanging chandelier with hundreds of candles. A roaring fire in a hearth so large Pa'avu could fit inside without bending. But what overshadows it all is the walls and ceiling, for they are set with dazzling gemstone mosaics, covering all surfaces from floor to vaulted apex and twinkling like a thousand thousand stars descending from the sky.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The Empress seems so much smaller in person, especially in this grand space, a gangly young woman not quite ripened to adulthood, her bronze skin unblemished, her elaborately braided hair topped by a surely-priceless tiara. She kneels before an altar-like structure, a ghostly translucent figure hovering briefly in view above it before the figure winks out at your entrance.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>"Goodbye for now, father," she sighs.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>A shiver crosses your bodies, but the Empress seems unaffected, clad even as she is in thin silks. The fire and candlelight do nothing to warm the space, literally or aesthetically. Instead, the high chamber twinkles with reflected light everywhere, cold and blue.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>"You are to be my new tutor," Scheherezade says quietly, maintaining a safe distance between the imposing form of Pa'avu and herself. "Come," she says and leads the Half-giant through glass-paneled doors and out onto a balcony looking out over the city.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>"Look at my city," she commands and sweeps her arm. What you have no doubt experienced on the ground is even more evident from this bird's eye view: the usual hustle and bustle of activity of a metropolis has crawled to a halt. Caravans of commerce do not wait impatiently at the gates. The markets and bazaars no longer teem with people. All are fearful now in the aftermath of the Madness and now during the occupation. Bands of Legionnaires are visible patrolling the streets. An occasional fight breaks out, instantiating your earlier discussions and observations.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>"What hope is there? What could you teach me that will change anything? Anything at all?"</em></p><p></p><p>[HR][/HR]</p><p>What do you do? Is there something you say or do to alleviate Scheherezade's hopelessness? Something you perceive in this chamber or in the distant horizon that offers hope? Is there someplace you take her that provides a needed lesson? As [USER=6696971]@Manbearcat[/USER] noted, this is at the <strong>Hard DC 31.</strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="darkbard, post: 9274543, member: 1282"] Okay, getting mechanical details out of the way first. The PCs are now at 28,000/32,000 needed for L12. [USER=20459]@Nephis[/USER] and I talked over possible rewards, what would be most fictionally interesting/fitting that builds out of what just transpired. With that in mind, [USER=20459]@Nephis[/USER] has chosen the Elemental Gift Alternative Reward [I][B]Gift of Chaos[/B][/I], with the rationale being that the magical detonation set off by the Duchess of Cinders's crucible has left an enduring transformation in Pa'avu, "infecting" her with some of the roiling elemental chaos caused by the explosion as Pa'avu shielded others from harm with her body. The Elemental Gift even comes with some deleterious outcomes in its random roll, so that seems to capture the flavor of being so "touched" by Primordial power. Now, on to the framing... [HR][/HR] [I]The Empress's chambers are a vast and sprawling affair, some dozens of discrete rooms feeding into and off of one another in mazelike confusion: bedchambers for Her Imperial Majesty and her handmaidens, meeting chambers, dining chambers, libraries, parlors, a music hall, the list goes on. It is an open question as to whether the Empress would ever have need to leave her chambers at all ... or if she ever has. First to meet the heroes is Sovelis, chamberlain to Her Majesty Scheherezade, an aloof but mercurial Eladrin with long silver hair and opalescent eyes of vibrant blue, devoid of pupils. He sniffs as he reads over Bita-Bahlin's letter. "I have served the Imperial family for three centuries. It breaks with all tradition for any newcomer to Her Imperial Splendour's court to skip the ... extensive ... vetting process by the chamberlain and his staff. But I suppose even the chamberlain must be fluid under the new dispensation..." his voice trails off wearily. "Follow me to the Hall of Ancestors. Her Imperial Magnificence is communing." The chamber to which Sovelis leads them is staggering in its opulence. Thick, woven carpets on tiled floor. Intricately carved wooden furnishings. A hanging chandelier with hundreds of candles. A roaring fire in a hearth so large Pa'avu could fit inside without bending. But what overshadows it all is the walls and ceiling, for they are set with dazzling gemstone mosaics, covering all surfaces from floor to vaulted apex and twinkling like a thousand thousand stars descending from the sky. The Empress seems so much smaller in person, especially in this grand space, a gangly young woman not quite ripened to adulthood, her bronze skin unblemished, her elaborately braided hair topped by a surely-priceless tiara. She kneels before an altar-like structure, a ghostly translucent figure hovering briefly in view above it before the figure winks out at your entrance. "Goodbye for now, father," she sighs. A shiver crosses your bodies, but the Empress seems unaffected, clad even as she is in thin silks. The fire and candlelight do nothing to warm the space, literally or aesthetically. Instead, the high chamber twinkles with reflected light everywhere, cold and blue. "You are to be my new tutor," Scheherezade says quietly, maintaining a safe distance between the imposing form of Pa'avu and herself. "Come," she says and leads the Half-giant through glass-paneled doors and out onto a balcony looking out over the city. "Look at my city," she commands and sweeps her arm. What you have no doubt experienced on the ground is even more evident from this bird's eye view: the usual hustle and bustle of activity of a metropolis has crawled to a halt. Caravans of commerce do not wait impatiently at the gates. The markets and bazaars no longer teem with people. All are fearful now in the aftermath of the Madness and now during the occupation. Bands of Legionnaires are visible patrolling the streets. An occasional fight breaks out, instantiating your earlier discussions and observations. "What hope is there? What could you teach me that will change anything? Anything at all?"[/I] [HR][/HR] What do you do? Is there something you say or do to alleviate Scheherezade's hopelessness? Something you perceive in this chamber or in the distant horizon that offers hope? Is there someplace you take her that provides a needed lesson? As [USER=6696971]@Manbearcat[/USER] noted, this is at the [B]Hard DC 31.[/B] [/QUOTE]
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