Arcalian

Hello, ladies! *stares dreamily at Laska's cleavage*

Well, Vierna's Momma is in every chapter of Adrian, near enough, so I guess Adrian will be on topic this quiz, without trying. Come to think of it, the last part of Adrian I posted in the old Attic was *very* OT.

Should she expand on that idea, fortify the belief that my leadership is of divine origin? Yun-Men found the idea distasteful for more than one reason. First of all, that was how the empire of Shou Lung worked, and she wanted an empire that would look like it truly was hers. Also, what she held in greatest respect was what was achieved by work, courage and talent, not put into your lap like divinity. However, she should not dismiss the advantages of being perceived a goddess too readily. She would have time to dwell on that after initial victories.

You are wise to not like that idea, Yun Men. But should you win (which you won't, ultimately), you may find yourself being deified regardless. "Barbarian" conquerers often find the doors of civilization closing behind them, as it were; your people would become far more like the Shou than you would be comfortable with.

- "The goal is to take all garrisons from the same side of the wall, naturally," Yun-Men went on. "It is my hope that we manage to capture some of those battle wu jen of theirs. That is a definite disatvantage of our army - we don't know how to use magic to our advantage, nor do we have skilled magic-users."
- "The tribal leaders have always regarded magic with distrust," Batu said.
- "The tribal leaders have always been stupid!" Yun-Men snapped.
- "I was just making an observation," Batu said in mild tone.
- "Yes... but the thing is, we are going to carve the greatest empire on Red Earth, and anything at all that is useful in order to further that goal is valuable. Treachery, bribery, murder, intimidation, lies... for in the end, when our darkening bones lie forgotten in the sands of these plains, it is the victors who write the history and the results that matter. Now, advance! As I have said, life gets no sweeter than this!"
The Khan of the six tribes smiled like a wolf and led her conquering army toward the oldest and mightiest nation on Toril.

And all that stands in your way....is Sarevok and Peri. I am so sorry, Yun Men. Were they not there, you could have Shou with my thanks and pleasure. As I said before, it would be interesting to see you go one on one with the other villains of the story. Alas, it is not to be.

As for your darkening bones, all I can say is; he who dies having conquered the most, still dies, and in a thousand years no one will remember or care. H'D was right about that one.

Good stuff as always Lord E.

Hang on, it's undead! What a silly deathknight.

Demon Knight, not Death Knight. Infernal, not undead.

[

Ahh, I guess that's because his hand is burned and the dagger is poisoned?

Yes to the burn, no the poison, it's results are rather more....spectacular than that.

Hhehe, nice answer, very in character!

Thanks!

[

Oh dear, bad choice: there's thar party of Drow around somewhere.

Um, Adrian's party already killed them all, save one survivor stumbling towards UstNatha.

Well, I'm back from the land of the not-entirely-here, after a funtastic oral surgery (in which the anasthesia didn't take!

*cuddles poor Nyx*

But anyway, nothing actually happens in it. I figure, after all that running amok, both he and I deserved a quiet chapter. So, this is by far the most subdued chapter of CoM ever written. Also one of the shortest! Which isn't to say it's short, but you know how I am.

It is characterization, and characterization is good.

Okay, enough blah blah from me.

More Sanctity. soon; I'm actually ahead of the posting! Wow! But I don't like chapter 6, so I want to fiddle with it before I bite the bullet.

...I like the new board. It feels *odd*, but it's coooooool...

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Each drop of water sends ripples through the surface of the bath. Drip. Ripples. Drip. Yet more. The falling water fascinates me, as the foam of soap bubbles fascinate me. I am fascinated by the red gashes in my flesh, yet unhealed, the gentle, flickering glow of candlelight, and the soft give of the carpet when I stand and pull up, my feet sinking into an inch of lush carpeting, grey and green intermingled into an… interesting shade I do not believe I have seen before and preferably will not see often again.

In lieu of true garments, I wrap a towel about my waist. 5 silver had bought a washing for the terribly abused set of clothing I had been wearing, but even so, the concept of donning such garments again is less than satisfactory. Against the far wall, a silver staff stands, awaiting the tiny hands of its owner, now gone.

There are cuts across my chest, mending together into pale scar tissue. I have no damned idea where they came from. I barely hesitate at these sorts of things any longer.

The room itself is fairly sparse; an oak table, a set of two wooden chairs, a floor-length mirror with a cheap copper frame, and a small, hard bed, along with a bookshelf boasting dry historical and religious tomes for entertainment. Under normal circumstances such accommodations would be far less than adequate, but there is little “normal” about circumstances, now.

The staff glints in its place, against the wall. Imoen’s face stares at me from the corner of my eye, and I will not...

…a brush, then. Such a thing cost only a copper downstairs, and we are not so destitute as to mourn that. From downstairs, I hear the constant playing of music, and the laughter of patrons, both too loud and bawdy for my tastes.

“The Seven Vales,” this establishment is called, and even at the start of morning, when we stumbled here, it was busy. Moreso now, when the tumult of the earlier events has calmed. Jaheira arranged for our rooms this morning; I do not feel particularly sociable when drenched in muck and sweat and blood, and she knows the populace and local customs far better than I could begin to, for the moment. We rented three rooms for 6 gold apiece and Jaheira glared at me when I demanded separate chambers. I suppose she expects me to rest with her presence glowering from nearby, but I have listened to her complaints regarding Khalid for long enough without imposing them upon myself even now. Yoshimo, who had apparently retained his own stash of coins, paid his own way.

We have traveled some ways south, into Athkatla, capital of Amn. We now walk lands I had previously only read about, and had never planned on visiting, but we had not traveled as far as we could have; south past Beregost and Nashkel, then over the Cloud Peaks. That Yoshimo was correct as to our location was no surprise. The date was, however, a bit of one. The first of Mirtul.

It has been one year, to the day, since Sarevok butchered Gorion on that open field.

It has been six weeks since we were taken from Baldur’s Gate.

A stroke through my hair. Tangles and matting gives way, slowly, to smooth locks that gleam in the dim light. Another stroke. Outside the locked door, I hear footsteps approach, and a key turns. Click, the door swings open with a creak, and Jaheira appears in the doorway.

“Are you enjoying your privacy?” she asks, her eternal frown setting lines into her face. Her appearance has markedly improved since we arrived, her hair pulled hair back into a tight braid, accentuating the exotic tint to her features. Her clothes are stained, but clean. There is the slight impression of a scar where she bit through her lip, lying in the streets. Her eyes trace the scars across my chest.

I am not in the proper mindset for her damned complaints. “Yes. Do not begin a lecture regarding the management of our limited funds.”

She sits on the side of the bed, her torn boots tapping impatiently against the bed frame. “And why not. We have spent a disturbingly large proportion of what we have simply on the two rooms. There is no reason you could not have shared a room with Yoshimo.”

I roll my eyes, and brush my hair. There are reasons, actually. I would not allow a virtual stranger to share a room with me at my own expense, and would hardly expect him to do any differently as a rule, or to make an exception for me, even had I wished to be excepted. Furthermore, his very unfamiliarity is reason enough; I would not trust my back to that man. I nearly tell her these things, but she would inevitably have a damned response, and I am not in the mood.

I cant honestly see them remaining together.

I laugh. “’City of Coin?’ That does sound promising.”

Adrian: Yes, I thought so too, at first. They speak my language, I thought. But Amnian money is transient; what is bought once, does not neccesarily stay bought.

200,000 gold left to gather dust in vaults throughout Baldur’s Gate.

Adrian: Gods yes, that more than anything else galled me.

Once again, I am reduced to saying nothing more intelligent than "Houston, we have a problem!!!!"