Menu
News
All News
Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
Pathfinder
Starfinder
Warhammer
2d20 System
Year Zero Engine
Industry News
Reviews
Dragon Reflections
Columns
Weekly Digests
Weekly News Digest
Freebies, Sales & Bundles
RPG Print News
RPG Crowdfunding News
Game Content
ENterplanetary DimENsions
Mythological Figures
Opinion
Worlds of Design
Peregrine's Next
RPG Evolution
Other Columns
From the Freelancing Frontline
Monster ENcyclopedia
WotC/TSR Alumni Look Back
4 Hours w/RSD (Ryan Dancey)
The Road to 3E (Jonathan Tweet)
Greenwood's Realms (Ed Greenwood)
Drawmij's TSR (Jim Ward)
Community
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Resources
Wiki
Pages
Latest activity
Media
New media
New comments
Search media
Downloads
Latest reviews
Search resources
EN Publishing
Store
EN5ider
Adventures in ZEITGEIST
Awfully Cheerful Engine
What's OLD is NEW
Judge Dredd & The Worlds Of 2000AD
War of the Burning Sky
Level Up: Advanced 5E
Events & Releases
Upcoming Events
Private Events
Featured Events
Socials!
Twitch
YouTube
Facebook (EN Publishing)
Facebook (EN World)
Twitter
Instagram
TikTok
Podcast
Features
Top 5 RPGs Compiled Charts 2004-Present
Adventure Game Industry Market Research Summary (RPGs) V1.0
Ryan Dancey: Acquiring TSR
Q&A With Gary Gygax
D&D Rules FAQs
TSR, WotC, & Paizo: A Comparative History
D&D Pronunciation Guide
Million Dollar TTRPG Kickstarters
Tabletop RPG Podcast Hall of Fame
Eric Noah's Unofficial D&D 3rd Edition News
D&D in the Mainstream
D&D & RPG History
About Morrus
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
War of the Burning Sky - The Novel
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="RangerWickett" data-source="post: 5491136" data-attributes="member: 63"><p style="text-align: center"><img src="http://www.enworld.org/forum/blogs/rangerwickett/attachments/110d1261627380-wotbs-intermission-1-shalosha-novel.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p><strong><span style="font-size: 12px">Intermission One</span></strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>The Rites of Rulership</strong></p><p></p><p></p><p>Among the Shahalesti, everything was done for aesthetics.</p><p></p><p>Shalosha knew that her father’s aides arranged for cheering, adoring crowds to always line the roads whenever she traveled about Calanis, and she suspected that they made sure all the faces she looked upon were pale, blonde, and beautiful – which in the eyes of her people meant jen only. Han, herethim, and jispin were apparently too unpleasant for one of royal blood to see without warning.</p><p></p><p>And she only slightly resented how much effort they spent in ensuring she herself was even more beautiful than any in the crowd, so that when her people looked upon her their cheers would be of sincere joy. For it was paramount that they adore her. Their devotion was her power, the will of a million followers at her fingertips, a nation’s pride manifested as nearly divine power, as granted by the rites of rulership. </p><p></p><p>She was the princess of Shahalesti, daughter of the Shining Lord Shaaladel – he who had driven out the seditious Taranesti, led the proud Shahalesti to conquest against their enemies, and halted the fury of the Old Dragon, Emperor Coaltongue. Her father deserved a dynasty, and the Shahalesti had demanded it, and so twenty-seven years earlier, for the sake of aesthetics, Shalosha had been born.</p><p></p><p>Though still young, she had the benefit of her late mother’s wisdom. Before her mother had died she had made sure Shalosha understood her place; as much as Shaaladel might love her as his daughter, he had sired her to cement his rule. He had crafted a historic image of himself, had convinced his people that he was leading them toward greatness, and had needed a child as a symbol of all the Shahalesti aspired to be.</p><p></p><p>Looking out across the jubilant crowds, Shalosha wondered, if her father could craft her as an image for their people to believe in, how he might have crafted the world she saw, and for what purpose. She wondered how what she saw of her father might differ from his true self.</p><p></p><p>But she had long held her tongue on this matter around her father, else he might not have entrusted her in this mission.</p><p></p><p>Pressed on by the cheers of the masses, Shalosha and her retinue of attendants and bodyguards ascended the road to the royal palace, its towers gleaming in the noonday sun, caught in the cold mist billowing up from the Reshial Falls. Despite her awareness of the stagecraft, she did love waving to her people, and before entering the palace grounds she turned and blew kisses to the throng. Their loyalty to her surged with their loving cheers, and she felt a brief flutter of power that forced a joyous smile onto her face as she gave one final wave and entered the palace.</p><p></p><p>Up she climbed through the many tiers of the palace, her enthusiasm lasting as she passed through gardens, beautiful halls, and chambers of politics, slowly fading from beaming to giddy to contented, until she saw her father. She put on her best loving smile as she entered the throne room, nodding to the various counselors and high guards of the Solei Palancis who bowed to her.</p><p></p><p>“Father, is everything alright?”</p><p></p><p>Her father Shaaladel looked up from his maps and gestured her over. He was not the handsomest of their people, but had a sharp aquiline nose, fair blond hair cut for battle, and eyes of sapphire blue. He always wore his sword at his hip, but she had never seen it unsheathed.</p><p></p><p>“The fleet is ready,” her father said, “but we’ve received unpleasant news. Yesterday, just after the turn of the new year, the Ragesians attacked Gate Pass. There’s still quite a battle going on, and we’ve actually received a request for aid, but Aurana has divined that they won’t last more than a few weeks.”</p><p></p><p>Shalosha frowned. This might be all the excuse her father needed to call off her mission.</p><p></p><p>They had known this would come, but for the past two months the royal court had felt like it was blind to the outside world, ever since Coaltongue had been slain. The teleporting couriers who regularly delivered news of other nations had nearly all died the same night, for when Coaltongue fell, something deadly had occurred in the spaces between worlds. </p><p></p><p>The Torch of the Burning Sky had given Coaltongue the power to instantly carry entire armies across the world in a pillar of fire, and now all those who used similar magic arrived at their destinations incinerated. Forced to rely on mundane messengers and the occasional magical missive, the royal court knew the Ragesians were marching on their nation, but could only guess where.</p><p></p><p>“This makes the mission all the more urgent, father.”</p><p></p><p>“Really?” He shook his head. “We’re about to go to war, and our fleet has a vital mission, but you want to take it on a detour to this school of witch doctors?”</p><p></p><p>Shalosha stood still but she glanced at the people eavesdropping from around the room. Disapproval had already crept into some of their expressions, for none were supposed to doubt the Shining Lord, not even his daughter. Her father must assume she would never be so rude to argue with him before so many. But he was as bound by the demands of appearance as she.</p><p></p><p>Shalosha relaxed and chuckled.</p><p></p><p>“You’re right, Father. The people want to see me safe on my journey, and you were gracious to offer half the fleet to protect me, but I only need one ship to go to Seaquen. The people clearly do not know how mighty even a single ship of our navy can be.”</p><p></p><p>In truth, the bulk of the mighty Shahalesti fleet was prepared to cut around the southern nations in order to reach Sindaire, where Coaltongue had fallen on his final campaign. Retrieving the Torch was paramount, and every ruler was rightfully terrified of what would happen if someone else claimed it first. In the two short months since the emperor’s death many had tried, but it was obvious that all had failed, because there was not yet a new warlord trying to conquer the world.</p><p></p><p>The fleet that was about to set out represented a daring investment of resources in order to claim a prize that would let Shahalesti rule over all other nations. Seaquen just happened to be on the way, and her father had always been reticent to allow for even a few day’s delay.</p><p></p><p>Shalosha smiled to those watching as she casually walked up to her father, who had that look of stoic disinterest he adopted when he was angry. His voice was low enough that the conversation was nearly private.</p><p></p><p>“Why risk your safety for this pointless gesture?” he asked.</p><p></p><p>“My safety?” Shalosha suppressed a quiet laugh. “Father, your tutors have trained me to defend myself against the greatest dangers the Ragesians can offer. Unless Leska herself is with them, we should pity anyone who dares attack the fleet.”</p><p></p><p>“The witch.” He sneered. “We should be thankful the Ragesians are coming to us. Without the Torch, they know we can defeat them. The smart generals will side with me, and then we’ll march on Leska. By next year Ragesia will have its rightful ruler.”</p><p></p><p>He looked down at the map on his desk and shook his head.</p><p></p><p>“No, we don’t need the aid of those foreign mages. They’re all children of Dasseni anyway. We don’t <em>want</em> them.”</p><p></p><p>Shalosha sighed. “What would you have me do, then? What should your noble daughter do in a time of war?”</p><p></p><p>“She shouldn’t question me!” he hissed, not quite quietly enough. </p><p></p><p>The rest of the royal court quickly found something else to pay attention to, and soon all but the guards were had left the chamber. Her father watched them go with unconcealed disdain. Shalosha shivered at the coldness in his eyes.</p><p></p><p>“The Ragesians,” he said, “will send forces around the northern Tunda Mountains, past Ycengled, though the main threat will be through Gate Pass. I will need someone to represent me among the generals at Nacaan and Piryas.”</p><p></p><p>“What of the Torch?” she asked.</p><p></p><p>“Telshanth is leading the expedition. You know that.”</p><p></p><p>“And you trust him, Father, to bring the Torch back to you when he finds it?”</p><p></p><p>Her father hesitated before responding. Through their connection by the rites of rulership she felt his confidence falter, and it made her weak in a way she could barely express. Her bloodline was tied to the fate of her nation, and she did not know what it would mean for their people if her father became paranoid of his subordinates. But it was a play she had to make.</p><p></p><p>Shalosha continued, “The Torch is too powerful, Father. The others are loyal, they love you, but they are not your blood. They have served you well for longer than I’ve been alive; don’t be cruel and put them against such temptation.”</p><p></p><p>Her father drew a heavy breath and narrowed his eyes.</p><p></p><p>“You’re right. This is too important to risk any chance, and I know you can never betray me, Shalosha. If only I could go, but I would rather like to go to battle with Ragesians again. It’s been too long.”</p><p></p><p>Shalosha forced herself not to sigh in relief yet, and she smiled.</p><p></p><p>“So will you give me leave to seek the aid of the mages of Seaquen?”</p><p></p><p>Her father nodded with restraint, going to the other side of his desk, where he pulled out an elegant scroll and then sat in a gold and ivory chair.</p><p></p><p>“You will leave as we originally planned,” he said. “I still wish I could have you aiding me in the north, but if you are going to speak to these mages, we should be clear under what conditions they will serve us. I’ll have to write this fast. Fetch me pen and ink?”</p><p></p><p>Shalosha kept her mask of elegance, nodded obediently, and got her father his quill and inkwell. As she waited for him to finish his decree, she looked out the window, down at the crowds clustered along the road below. Royal aides moved among them, no doubt weeding and selecting who would watch her journey to the harbor.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="RangerWickett, post: 5491136, member: 63"] [center][img]http://www.enworld.org/forum/blogs/rangerwickett/attachments/110d1261627380-wotbs-intermission-1-shalosha-novel.jpg[/img][/center] [B][SIZE=3]Intermission One[/size] The Rites of Rulership[/b] Among the Shahalesti, everything was done for aesthetics. Shalosha knew that her father’s aides arranged for cheering, adoring crowds to always line the roads whenever she traveled about Calanis, and she suspected that they made sure all the faces she looked upon were pale, blonde, and beautiful – which in the eyes of her people meant jen only. Han, herethim, and jispin were apparently too unpleasant for one of royal blood to see without warning. And she only slightly resented how much effort they spent in ensuring she herself was even more beautiful than any in the crowd, so that when her people looked upon her their cheers would be of sincere joy. For it was paramount that they adore her. Their devotion was her power, the will of a million followers at her fingertips, a nation’s pride manifested as nearly divine power, as granted by the rites of rulership. She was the princess of Shahalesti, daughter of the Shining Lord Shaaladel – he who had driven out the seditious Taranesti, led the proud Shahalesti to conquest against their enemies, and halted the fury of the Old Dragon, Emperor Coaltongue. Her father deserved a dynasty, and the Shahalesti had demanded it, and so twenty-seven years earlier, for the sake of aesthetics, Shalosha had been born. Though still young, she had the benefit of her late mother’s wisdom. Before her mother had died she had made sure Shalosha understood her place; as much as Shaaladel might love her as his daughter, he had sired her to cement his rule. He had crafted a historic image of himself, had convinced his people that he was leading them toward greatness, and had needed a child as a symbol of all the Shahalesti aspired to be. Looking out across the jubilant crowds, Shalosha wondered, if her father could craft her as an image for their people to believe in, how he might have crafted the world she saw, and for what purpose. She wondered how what she saw of her father might differ from his true self. But she had long held her tongue on this matter around her father, else he might not have entrusted her in this mission. Pressed on by the cheers of the masses, Shalosha and her retinue of attendants and bodyguards ascended the road to the royal palace, its towers gleaming in the noonday sun, caught in the cold mist billowing up from the Reshial Falls. Despite her awareness of the stagecraft, she did love waving to her people, and before entering the palace grounds she turned and blew kisses to the throng. Their loyalty to her surged with their loving cheers, and she felt a brief flutter of power that forced a joyous smile onto her face as she gave one final wave and entered the palace. Up she climbed through the many tiers of the palace, her enthusiasm lasting as she passed through gardens, beautiful halls, and chambers of politics, slowly fading from beaming to giddy to contented, until she saw her father. She put on her best loving smile as she entered the throne room, nodding to the various counselors and high guards of the Solei Palancis who bowed to her. “Father, is everything alright?” Her father Shaaladel looked up from his maps and gestured her over. He was not the handsomest of their people, but had a sharp aquiline nose, fair blond hair cut for battle, and eyes of sapphire blue. He always wore his sword at his hip, but she had never seen it unsheathed. “The fleet is ready,” her father said, “but we’ve received unpleasant news. Yesterday, just after the turn of the new year, the Ragesians attacked Gate Pass. There’s still quite a battle going on, and we’ve actually received a request for aid, but Aurana has divined that they won’t last more than a few weeks.” Shalosha frowned. This might be all the excuse her father needed to call off her mission. They had known this would come, but for the past two months the royal court had felt like it was blind to the outside world, ever since Coaltongue had been slain. The teleporting couriers who regularly delivered news of other nations had nearly all died the same night, for when Coaltongue fell, something deadly had occurred in the spaces between worlds. The Torch of the Burning Sky had given Coaltongue the power to instantly carry entire armies across the world in a pillar of fire, and now all those who used similar magic arrived at their destinations incinerated. Forced to rely on mundane messengers and the occasional magical missive, the royal court knew the Ragesians were marching on their nation, but could only guess where. “This makes the mission all the more urgent, father.” “Really?” He shook his head. “We’re about to go to war, and our fleet has a vital mission, but you want to take it on a detour to this school of witch doctors?” Shalosha stood still but she glanced at the people eavesdropping from around the room. Disapproval had already crept into some of their expressions, for none were supposed to doubt the Shining Lord, not even his daughter. Her father must assume she would never be so rude to argue with him before so many. But he was as bound by the demands of appearance as she. Shalosha relaxed and chuckled. “You’re right, Father. The people want to see me safe on my journey, and you were gracious to offer half the fleet to protect me, but I only need one ship to go to Seaquen. The people clearly do not know how mighty even a single ship of our navy can be.” In truth, the bulk of the mighty Shahalesti fleet was prepared to cut around the southern nations in order to reach Sindaire, where Coaltongue had fallen on his final campaign. Retrieving the Torch was paramount, and every ruler was rightfully terrified of what would happen if someone else claimed it first. In the two short months since the emperor’s death many had tried, but it was obvious that all had failed, because there was not yet a new warlord trying to conquer the world. The fleet that was about to set out represented a daring investment of resources in order to claim a prize that would let Shahalesti rule over all other nations. Seaquen just happened to be on the way, and her father had always been reticent to allow for even a few day’s delay. Shalosha smiled to those watching as she casually walked up to her father, who had that look of stoic disinterest he adopted when he was angry. His voice was low enough that the conversation was nearly private. “Why risk your safety for this pointless gesture?” he asked. “My safety?” Shalosha suppressed a quiet laugh. “Father, your tutors have trained me to defend myself against the greatest dangers the Ragesians can offer. Unless Leska herself is with them, we should pity anyone who dares attack the fleet.” “The witch.” He sneered. “We should be thankful the Ragesians are coming to us. Without the Torch, they know we can defeat them. The smart generals will side with me, and then we’ll march on Leska. By next year Ragesia will have its rightful ruler.” He looked down at the map on his desk and shook his head. “No, we don’t need the aid of those foreign mages. They’re all children of Dasseni anyway. We don’t [I]want[/I] them.” Shalosha sighed. “What would you have me do, then? What should your noble daughter do in a time of war?” “She shouldn’t question me!” he hissed, not quite quietly enough. The rest of the royal court quickly found something else to pay attention to, and soon all but the guards were had left the chamber. Her father watched them go with unconcealed disdain. Shalosha shivered at the coldness in his eyes. “The Ragesians,” he said, “will send forces around the northern Tunda Mountains, past Ycengled, though the main threat will be through Gate Pass. I will need someone to represent me among the generals at Nacaan and Piryas.” “What of the Torch?” she asked. “Telshanth is leading the expedition. You know that.” “And you trust him, Father, to bring the Torch back to you when he finds it?” Her father hesitated before responding. Through their connection by the rites of rulership she felt his confidence falter, and it made her weak in a way she could barely express. Her bloodline was tied to the fate of her nation, and she did not know what it would mean for their people if her father became paranoid of his subordinates. But it was a play she had to make. Shalosha continued, “The Torch is too powerful, Father. The others are loyal, they love you, but they are not your blood. They have served you well for longer than I’ve been alive; don’t be cruel and put them against such temptation.” Her father drew a heavy breath and narrowed his eyes. “You’re right. This is too important to risk any chance, and I know you can never betray me, Shalosha. If only I could go, but I would rather like to go to battle with Ragesians again. It’s been too long.” Shalosha forced herself not to sigh in relief yet, and she smiled. “So will you give me leave to seek the aid of the mages of Seaquen?” Her father nodded with restraint, going to the other side of his desk, where he pulled out an elegant scroll and then sat in a gold and ivory chair. “You will leave as we originally planned,” he said. “I still wish I could have you aiding me in the north, but if you are going to speak to these mages, we should be clear under what conditions they will serve us. I’ll have to write this fast. Fetch me pen and ink?” Shalosha kept her mask of elegance, nodded obediently, and got her father his quill and inkwell. As she waited for him to finish his decree, she looked out the window, down at the crowds clustered along the road below. Royal aides moved among them, no doubt weeding and selecting who would watch her journey to the harbor. [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
War of the Burning Sky - The Novel
Top