Winter 1984
Nicaea
Monomaniac Penguin
- Joined
- Apr 3, 2017
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[X]Primary Skill: Life Magic.
[X]Secondary skill: Magic resistance (Combat)
[X]Let her choose. Will open her SL.
[X]Great Library: +10 To learning related rolls.
[X] Agatha broke in the safe. Nobody knows how, or why, but the golden coffer that was found years ago was stolen. While she may not be up to anything dangerous, this was still Agatha, supervision was necessary. (100)
[/SPOILER]
[X] Find sources of building materials. Your contacts went out of business not that long ago, and you need good sources if you don't want to keep paying so much for them. Guaranteed access to Wood and Stone production facilities. Chance of getting access to Gems, Crystal, Sulfur, or Mercury production facilities.
Cost: 40 000 Galleons
It took him quite a bit of maneuvering, what with the more and more alarming reports he was receiving, but in the end, it seemed his offers found some sellers. While he had focused on wood and stone producers, it just so happened that he managed to suborn a diamond mine and an alchemist.
Assorted producer business: +8 Wood, + 8 Stone, + 2 Gems, +2 Sulfur / Turn
[X] Develop the land (Free action):
-[X]Gold mine:
Cost: 5000 Galleons. Reward: 1 000 G/Turn, 1d6-3 Native Gold / turn afterwards.
The construction of the mine went very well. In fact, it went so well that it started producing gold immediately.
+1000 Galleons, +1 Native Gold.
[X] Civilian infrastructure. (Requires Rampart step 1 to be complete to be built: One building of the kind may be built per turn.)
-[X]Tavern: Cost: 25 000G.
Increases morale for standing army, Information on other players
Perhaps it was Dace's newfound interest architecture or good weather, however, the tavern was up and running rather quickly. As Dace was inspecting the building incognito while the workers were relaxing there, he heard something interesting.
[Rumor has it that house elves were behaving strangely as of late.]
His eyes narrowed as he drank some firewhiskey. It seemed the Overlord was shoring up his strength. Why, however, was a worrying question. The answer was even more worrying. The Overlord attacking the Ministry would offer Riddle the opening he needed to attack him instead.
[X] Send word to Rufus. [Since you're allied, Dace's sense of Justice compels him to do it]
[] Don't, he's busy enough already.
More intel on Riddle's strategy, increased SL with Rufus Scrimgeour, increased chance of Order faction survival.
Learning: Actions: 2 (1+Learning over 25)
[X] The old tales are sometimes true. Brush up on your knowledge, after all each time something supernatural happened, a wizard was behind it. Variable results, autopass, may be taken multiple times.
Rolled 4 + 10 (great Library) = 14 Failure due to related critical.
[X]Survey the land. You'll never know what you can find by running around, but at the very least, you'll know the land's map.
70 / 40 / 30 chances of success. May be taken multiple times.
Rolled: 1+ 10(great library) = 11. Critical failure (mitigated)
It started well enough, the survey had revealed several pieces of useful information, even if Dace couldn't make head of tails of it because his research got interrupted by Hassan, who was whining, a giant brush in his jaw.
Having a dog was hard work, especially if he was pony sized.
Still, he was spending his time leisurely brushing his dog, who was on his back, eyes closed and tongue lolling around, when somebody knocked at his new study's door.
"Enter." He began rubbing the beast's belly, causing it to chuff in delight, tail hitting the ground repeatedly with a dull thumping sound.
Martha came in, the slight creases on her dress indicating she ran here.
"My l- Mister Gwallawg." She smoothed her dress, before curtseying slightly. "We have unannounced guests. Albus Dumbledore and a retinue have arrived. They have been led to one of the waiting rooms."
Dace held back a groan and got up, making the canine at his feet jump up to his four and follow him as he got out his living room. The hallways here tall and arched with an organic design of paper thin ivies behind which small, glowing inclusions were shining a green light in a hallway, giving the impression that this hallway was made of leaves under the sun, instead of within a stone castle.
As he was entering the waiting room, he took a moment to take stock of the situation.
Albus Dumbledore was wearing a hot pink robe charmed to have yellow birds flying on it and currently sat in a chair under the sun, his good hand poking at a branch that was spontaneously sprouting through the cracks between the stones while his prosthetic one was twitching, clearly itching to take his wand and try to make heads or tails of what he was seeing. Dace supposed that as a transfiguration specialist and an alchemist, the Rampart would stoke the fires of his intellectual curiosity.
To his right was a young auror, Kingsley Shacklebot. Tall, dark skinned and eyes unusually focused on his surroundings.
He cleared his throat, causing both the auror and the old man to turn towards him. Martha took a step behind him in warning as Shacklebot's eyes were fixed on Dace, something lurking behind those dark irises. He was beginning to feel annoyed. If Dumbledore invited himself over here, could he at least not bring a spy with him?!
"Normally, I would try and observe the basic courtesies as a host, however I happen to feel disinclined towards offering them to uninvited guests, considering what exactly happened last time I had some of those." He crossed his arms, looking at Dumbledore emotionlessly as the man coughed and apologized, ignoring Shacklebot who might as well have been a statue, himself ignoring Dumbledore's glances. Hm, to confront or not confront, that is the question... Oh, please, when did he ever miss a chance to ruin Dumbledore's day?
"Indeed. I apologize for coming in unannounced, however, there are a few matters that have come to my attention that I thought you may wish to look into personally."
Dace just looked at him, before sitting down on the chair Martha produced, crossing his legs and waving for him to continue.
" As you've probably heard of, Riddle-"
"Has been steadily depopulating the Orkney Isles and is currently emptying villages left and right in Cornwall; is raising an army of undead to attack me; and has infiltrated your organization ..." He paused for a moment, raising his hand and snapping his fingers, causing Martha to appear behind the dark skinned auror and pin him to the ground. His index fell towards Shacklebot's prone form and he finished, "Right there." With no little amount of smugness as Dumbledore jumped to his feet, wand trained on the maid and the downed auror in warning.
"This was part of what I was about to talk to you about." He admitted, while Martha was looking around.
"The other one isn't here."
And indeed, Arthur Weasley still hadn't come back from the loo. And when they arrived there to check on his status, they saw the fresh corpse of one of his butlers. Dace closed his eyes, his annoyance rising. Couldn't he have an hour or two for himself where the rest of the world didn't go to hell without him?!
If he was going to infiltrate the enemy's base, where would he go to do maximal damage... Stupid question. With one last warning glance, he began running towards his study, Martha keeping up with him easily, her gauntlets visible to all with crimson blotches on them looking suspiciously like blood. At this point, he didn't even have the heart to reprimand her for doing what he wanted to do himself. The run was long, and when they arrived, it was to a strange spectacle.
His office was turned upside down, some documents outright destroyed, paper was flying everywhere and the wayward Weasley was head in the floo, a cluster of sheets in his fist. Before anyone could react, Martha ran to him, caught the back of his ratty robes, sent him flying over her over her shoulder and almost crushed him against the wall. Scratch that, not 'almost'. The Weasley patriarch began shrieking in a distinctly inhuman way when Martha's gauntlet clad hand accidentally – at least Dace hoped it was accidental- crushed the man's head like a grape over his lower lip in her hand. She jumped back in surprise when the man's form began bubbling and the normally pallid flesh turned grey, muscles bulging and strangled gurgles coming from the undead's mutilated head, his lower jaw and exposed tongue lolling uselessly.
This was when Dumbledore arrived, took stock of the situation and paled. Looks like he didn't know about Weasley. Oh well.
"Martha, please be a dear and finish that off." Dace rolled his eyes, waving his wand to replace the furniture neatly, all the paper folding itself and landing neatly into a pile that was slightly taller than he was.
"Yes, Master." She raised her fists, gauntlets humming with a golden white energy and almost pounced on the shambling undead. The creature, feeling her intent, tried to scramble away but she was too fast and her glowing fist made contact with its torso. The energy crackled, before her fist turned and sunk into the undead's chest, its ribs giving out due to the strength of the blow. Then, the undead that was Arthur Weasley exploded, his gory remnants burning into dust in midair.
Martha then dismissed her weapons, dusted her dress and turned around.
"Would you like some tea?" She asked inquisitively, while Dace just sat in his chair.
"So that's what she meant by training... No, that won't be necessary."
Dumbledore just looked in silence, utterly flabbergasted at what happened, before he focused on Martha.
"Forgive me if this old man is wrong, but was that Life magic you just used?"
Martha looked at Dace, who waved his hand in a 'do whatever you want ' motion and she nodded, offering nothing more on the subject. Dumbledore, seeing that, sighed, his form sagging a bit.
"It seems every time we meet, events conspire against us. Very well, I shall take Kingsley with me and try to break him out of that enchantment that was weaved upon him. As for Arthur..." He waved his wand and the ashes gathered in an urn that just appeared, regret evident on his face. " I will make sure Molly knows what happened. My inattention is what allowed this to happen, after all."
"It is a fault of yours to keep your eyes on the prize and forget everything around you." Dace agreed easily, beginning to separate the folders into piles and producing a quill to sign it, as Dumbledore flinched.
"... Indeed." Blue eyes scanned the room, encountering photographs of Dace, his wife and their granddaughter. "So this is Little Scathach. It gladdens me to see you caring for her. At least one of us learned from their past mistakes."
The quill in Dace's hand broke, Martha dropped the papers she was holding in disbelief and the people in the photographs all turned to glare at the elderly wizard. Dace put his hands on the table, counted to ten, then to twenty when this wasn't enough. He then opened his eyes, formerly blue eyes glaring into older, yet similar ones.
"Contrarily to me, Aife never wanted to have a father." His voice was trembling with barely restrained rage as energy began arcing around his arms, the castle picking on the mood of its owner and shuddering lightly. "Do not assume, for a single instant, that our situations are even remotely similar. Contrarily to you, I never avoided my responsibilities."
Dumbledore grimaced and raised his hands in a placating gesture but Dace was having none of it.
"Don't presume to talk to me about duty and family, Albus Dumbledore, when all of your life you have been running away from it." His voice was even, and his face calm, even as he was slowly rising from the table. "Get out. I've had enough of you for the day."
"I've apologized time and time again, Dace, with the encroaching darkness rising, isn't it time to put our differences aside?" Dumbledore tried to reason, intent on deescalating the situation.
"Apologies won't bring aunt Ariana back. They won't bring back uncle Albeforth, and they certainly won't bring back my mother's life or restore her honor, father. This is your last warning, remove yourself or I will."
Martha looked at the men hesitantly, before steeling herself and summoning her gauntlets back, eyes fixed on the elder wizard, who had closed his eyes, as if he was suffering physical pain.
"I will. If you are so intent on your current course."
As he came back to his office, he thought about another young man, also full of negativity. He knew Dace's eyes were originally blue, but with the Nature turning them green, the resemblance was striking.
Back in his own office, Dace groaned and put his arm over his face, his chair turning into something more comfortable for him to lie on. It was far too early in the day, and he was much too sober to deal with all of it. He heard noises of something padding the room and cracked open an eye as he felt a weight on his chest.
Hassan was looking at him with puppy eyes and whining.
"It's not my fault. He's the one running around with a bunch of incompetents and poking his overly crooked nose where it doesn't belong." He justified himself, feeling the migraine coming.
The dog whined harder.
"Fine. I'll bring Eli and Scathach to deal with him."
"Wuuuuuuuuu~."
Dace groaned harder. Was that what having a conscience felt like? Because if it was, being normal was overrated.
-10 to all Rampart related rolls until the situation is resolved (aka, the paperwork is organized again). Riddle gains awareness of your base's layout. Riddle gains awareness of the zone map. Riddle gains a +10 roll against your faction.
At least now you're getting an idea why Dace is acting like he is ! Feel free to ask any question you may have about that~
[X]Primary Skill: Life Magic.
[X]Secondary skill: Magic resistance (Combat)
[X]Let her choose. Will open her SL.
[X]Great Library: +10 To learning related rolls.
[X] Agatha broke in the safe. Nobody knows how, or why, but the golden coffer that was found years ago was stolen. While she may not be up to anything dangerous, this was still Agatha, supervision was necessary. (100)
[/SPOILER]
Winter 1984
December 10th 1984
[X] Find sources of building materials. Your contacts went out of business not that long ago, and you need good sources if you don't want to keep paying so much for them. Guaranteed access to Wood and Stone production facilities. Chance of getting access to Gems, Crystal, Sulfur, or Mercury production facilities.
Cost: 40 000 Galleons
It took him quite a bit of maneuvering, what with the more and more alarming reports he was receiving, but in the end, it seemed his offers found some sellers. While he had focused on wood and stone producers, it just so happened that he managed to suborn a diamond mine and an alchemist.
Assorted producer business: +8 Wood, + 8 Stone, + 2 Gems, +2 Sulfur / Turn
[X] Develop the land (Free action):
-[X]Gold mine:
Cost: 5000 Galleons. Reward: 1 000 G/Turn, 1d6-3 Native Gold / turn afterwards.
The construction of the mine went very well. In fact, it went so well that it started producing gold immediately.
+1000 Galleons, +1 Native Gold.
January 2nd 1985
[X] Civilian infrastructure. (Requires Rampart step 1 to be complete to be built: One building of the kind may be built per turn.)
-[X]Tavern: Cost: 25 000G.
Increases morale for standing army, Information on other players
Perhaps it was Dace's newfound interest architecture or good weather, however, the tavern was up and running rather quickly. As Dace was inspecting the building incognito while the workers were relaxing there, he heard something interesting.
[Rumor has it that house elves were behaving strangely as of late.]
His eyes narrowed as he drank some firewhiskey. It seemed the Overlord was shoring up his strength. Why, however, was a worrying question. The answer was even more worrying. The Overlord attacking the Ministry would offer Riddle the opening he needed to attack him instead.
[X] Send word to Rufus. [Since you're allied, Dace's sense of Justice compels him to do it]
[] Don't, he's busy enough already.
More intel on Riddle's strategy, increased SL with Rufus Scrimgeour, increased chance of Order faction survival.
February 14th 1985
Learning: Actions: 2 (1+Learning over 25)
[X] The old tales are sometimes true. Brush up on your knowledge, after all each time something supernatural happened, a wizard was behind it. Variable results, autopass, may be taken multiple times.
Rolled 4 + 10 (great Library) = 14 Failure due to related critical.
[X]Survey the land. You'll never know what you can find by running around, but at the very least, you'll know the land's map.
70 / 40 / 30 chances of success. May be taken multiple times.
Rolled: 1+ 10(great library) = 11. Critical failure (mitigated)
It started well enough, the survey had revealed several pieces of useful information, even if Dace couldn't make head of tails of it because his research got interrupted by Hassan, who was whining, a giant brush in his jaw.
Having a dog was hard work, especially if he was pony sized.
Still, he was spending his time leisurely brushing his dog, who was on his back, eyes closed and tongue lolling around, when somebody knocked at his new study's door.
"Enter." He began rubbing the beast's belly, causing it to chuff in delight, tail hitting the ground repeatedly with a dull thumping sound.
Martha came in, the slight creases on her dress indicating she ran here.
"My l- Mister Gwallawg." She smoothed her dress, before curtseying slightly. "We have unannounced guests. Albus Dumbledore and a retinue have arrived. They have been led to one of the waiting rooms."
Dace held back a groan and got up, making the canine at his feet jump up to his four and follow him as he got out his living room. The hallways here tall and arched with an organic design of paper thin ivies behind which small, glowing inclusions were shining a green light in a hallway, giving the impression that this hallway was made of leaves under the sun, instead of within a stone castle.
As he was entering the waiting room, he took a moment to take stock of the situation.
Albus Dumbledore was wearing a hot pink robe charmed to have yellow birds flying on it and currently sat in a chair under the sun, his good hand poking at a branch that was spontaneously sprouting through the cracks between the stones while his prosthetic one was twitching, clearly itching to take his wand and try to make heads or tails of what he was seeing. Dace supposed that as a transfiguration specialist and an alchemist, the Rampart would stoke the fires of his intellectual curiosity.
To his right was a young auror, Kingsley Shacklebot. Tall, dark skinned and eyes unusually focused on his surroundings.
He cleared his throat, causing both the auror and the old man to turn towards him. Martha took a step behind him in warning as Shacklebot's eyes were fixed on Dace, something lurking behind those dark irises. He was beginning to feel annoyed. If Dumbledore invited himself over here, could he at least not bring a spy with him?!
"Normally, I would try and observe the basic courtesies as a host, however I happen to feel disinclined towards offering them to uninvited guests, considering what exactly happened last time I had some of those." He crossed his arms, looking at Dumbledore emotionlessly as the man coughed and apologized, ignoring Shacklebot who might as well have been a statue, himself ignoring Dumbledore's glances. Hm, to confront or not confront, that is the question... Oh, please, when did he ever miss a chance to ruin Dumbledore's day?
"Indeed. I apologize for coming in unannounced, however, there are a few matters that have come to my attention that I thought you may wish to look into personally."
Dace just looked at him, before sitting down on the chair Martha produced, crossing his legs and waving for him to continue.
" As you've probably heard of, Riddle-"
"Has been steadily depopulating the Orkney Isles and is currently emptying villages left and right in Cornwall; is raising an army of undead to attack me; and has infiltrated your organization ..." He paused for a moment, raising his hand and snapping his fingers, causing Martha to appear behind the dark skinned auror and pin him to the ground. His index fell towards Shacklebot's prone form and he finished, "Right there." With no little amount of smugness as Dumbledore jumped to his feet, wand trained on the maid and the downed auror in warning.
"This was part of what I was about to talk to you about." He admitted, while Martha was looking around.
"The other one isn't here."
And indeed, Arthur Weasley still hadn't come back from the loo. And when they arrived there to check on his status, they saw the fresh corpse of one of his butlers. Dace closed his eyes, his annoyance rising. Couldn't he have an hour or two for himself where the rest of the world didn't go to hell without him?!
If he was going to infiltrate the enemy's base, where would he go to do maximal damage... Stupid question. With one last warning glance, he began running towards his study, Martha keeping up with him easily, her gauntlets visible to all with crimson blotches on them looking suspiciously like blood. At this point, he didn't even have the heart to reprimand her for doing what he wanted to do himself. The run was long, and when they arrived, it was to a strange spectacle.
His office was turned upside down, some documents outright destroyed, paper was flying everywhere and the wayward Weasley was head in the floo, a cluster of sheets in his fist. Before anyone could react, Martha ran to him, caught the back of his ratty robes, sent him flying over her over her shoulder and almost crushed him against the wall. Scratch that, not 'almost'. The Weasley patriarch began shrieking in a distinctly inhuman way when Martha's gauntlet clad hand accidentally – at least Dace hoped it was accidental- crushed the man's head like a grape over his lower lip in her hand. She jumped back in surprise when the man's form began bubbling and the normally pallid flesh turned grey, muscles bulging and strangled gurgles coming from the undead's mutilated head, his lower jaw and exposed tongue lolling uselessly.
This was when Dumbledore arrived, took stock of the situation and paled. Looks like he didn't know about Weasley. Oh well.
"Martha, please be a dear and finish that off." Dace rolled his eyes, waving his wand to replace the furniture neatly, all the paper folding itself and landing neatly into a pile that was slightly taller than he was.
"Yes, Master." She raised her fists, gauntlets humming with a golden white energy and almost pounced on the shambling undead. The creature, feeling her intent, tried to scramble away but she was too fast and her glowing fist made contact with its torso. The energy crackled, before her fist turned and sunk into the undead's chest, its ribs giving out due to the strength of the blow. Then, the undead that was Arthur Weasley exploded, his gory remnants burning into dust in midair.
Martha then dismissed her weapons, dusted her dress and turned around.
"Would you like some tea?" She asked inquisitively, while Dace just sat in his chair.
"So that's what she meant by training... No, that won't be necessary."
Dumbledore just looked in silence, utterly flabbergasted at what happened, before he focused on Martha.
"Forgive me if this old man is wrong, but was that Life magic you just used?"
Martha looked at Dace, who waved his hand in a 'do whatever you want ' motion and she nodded, offering nothing more on the subject. Dumbledore, seeing that, sighed, his form sagging a bit.
"It seems every time we meet, events conspire against us. Very well, I shall take Kingsley with me and try to break him out of that enchantment that was weaved upon him. As for Arthur..." He waved his wand and the ashes gathered in an urn that just appeared, regret evident on his face. " I will make sure Molly knows what happened. My inattention is what allowed this to happen, after all."
"It is a fault of yours to keep your eyes on the prize and forget everything around you." Dace agreed easily, beginning to separate the folders into piles and producing a quill to sign it, as Dumbledore flinched.
"... Indeed." Blue eyes scanned the room, encountering photographs of Dace, his wife and their granddaughter. "So this is Little Scathach. It gladdens me to see you caring for her. At least one of us learned from their past mistakes."
The quill in Dace's hand broke, Martha dropped the papers she was holding in disbelief and the people in the photographs all turned to glare at the elderly wizard. Dace put his hands on the table, counted to ten, then to twenty when this wasn't enough. He then opened his eyes, formerly blue eyes glaring into older, yet similar ones.
"Contrarily to me, Aife never wanted to have a father." His voice was trembling with barely restrained rage as energy began arcing around his arms, the castle picking on the mood of its owner and shuddering lightly. "Do not assume, for a single instant, that our situations are even remotely similar. Contrarily to you, I never avoided my responsibilities."
Dumbledore grimaced and raised his hands in a placating gesture but Dace was having none of it.
"Don't presume to talk to me about duty and family, Albus Dumbledore, when all of your life you have been running away from it." His voice was even, and his face calm, even as he was slowly rising from the table. "Get out. I've had enough of you for the day."
"I've apologized time and time again, Dace, with the encroaching darkness rising, isn't it time to put our differences aside?" Dumbledore tried to reason, intent on deescalating the situation.
"Apologies won't bring aunt Ariana back. They won't bring back uncle Albeforth, and they certainly won't bring back my mother's life or restore her honor, father. This is your last warning, remove yourself or I will."
Martha looked at the men hesitantly, before steeling herself and summoning her gauntlets back, eyes fixed on the elder wizard, who had closed his eyes, as if he was suffering physical pain.
"I will. If you are so intent on your current course."
As he came back to his office, he thought about another young man, also full of negativity. He knew Dace's eyes were originally blue, but with the Nature turning them green, the resemblance was striking.
Back in his own office, Dace groaned and put his arm over his face, his chair turning into something more comfortable for him to lie on. It was far too early in the day, and he was much too sober to deal with all of it. He heard noises of something padding the room and cracked open an eye as he felt a weight on his chest.
Hassan was looking at him with puppy eyes and whining.
"It's not my fault. He's the one running around with a bunch of incompetents and poking his overly crooked nose where it doesn't belong." He justified himself, feeling the migraine coming.
The dog whined harder.
"Fine. I'll bring Eli and Scathach to deal with him."
"Wuuuuuuuuu~."
Dace groaned harder. Was that what having a conscience felt like? Because if it was, being normal was overrated.
-10 to all Rampart related rolls until the situation is resolved (aka, the paperwork is organized again). Riddle gains awareness of your base's layout. Riddle gains awareness of the zone map. Riddle gains a +10 roll against your faction.
At least now you're getting an idea why Dace is acting like he is ! Feel free to ask any question you may have about that~