This is a rather long one and the last in this particular Universe for a while, enjoy!
​
Admiral Alexis was... Bored... When the usual suspects called for an emergency meeting he expected another war, some sort of political snafu or maybe a major discovery that would require his input.
Once he learned how little was at stake he stopped really listening, as far as he's was concerned it was just about someone cheating at video games...
****************************** The War Games had first been introduced as a way to create camaraderie between the races and to have hard data on the strategies and capabilities of the different races.
The Noradons had been the only ones who participated along side the Humans.
Targeting locks would count as hits for space combat, smoke would be artillery explosions, low level electric batons would be used to simulate blades and good old paint balls for live ammunition.
The result was an overwhelming win for the Humans, the Noradons' new Overseer, Talon, was far too direct in his approach, the only victories he achieve were when he had superior numbers and never in defense scenarios.
He didn't care for traps, small deployment of troops, scouts, listening to his officers on the ground or any type of subterfuge.
The second was a more balanced affair, the Noradons had now far more specialist units and Talon had learned from his mistakes.
It was also a lot more popular, it wasn't viewed as a barbaric display of power like the first one but as a more violent sporting event.
Thou the second game was better remembered for the arrival of the A/O during the closing of the games.
****************************** The ceremony was finished, everyone was picking up their things and preparing to leave.
Kin son of Krono, host of the ceremony at the Commonwealth's HQ had the classic bartender's look that screamed: you don't have to go home but you can't stay here...
That is until Lawless contacted him.
A massive ship, dreadnought class from the tonnage, had just entered the system, it would be here in mere minutes.
Seeing how The Pale Horse and the Queen's Fury, the only known dreadnoughts, were already there this was worrisome to say the least.
He urged everyone to remain, not that anyone was going to leave now, this was exactly what the War Games were ultimately about: being ready when the time came to fight.
By the time the unknown ship emerged, the Combined fleet, the Noradons swarm along side the dozen or so ships of the Imphlasms were ready for anything, the Va'sh had stayed home.
Historians still wonder to this day what would have happened had they been present.
The ship was an odd mix of science and gardening gone wrong, an icosahedron with a power signature better measured in stars covered in moss and vines.
Admiral Alexis: “Identify yourself and your intentions”
Unknown Ship: “We are us, we wish to learn all there is to know”
Admiral Alexis: Huh, doesn't sound too bad
Unknown Ship: “We wish to be the only sentient races alive!”
Alexis: Ah, this would be the other shoe dropping, “We can help you with that first part but do not think we will just allow ourselves to be killed without a fight”
The Unknown Ship powered what looked like weapons
The fleets above Commonwealth HQ were ready for combat and spread out in loose formations, combat was about to be joined.
Than came from Commonwealth's Law a message sent on all frequencies
3.14: “Very well and than what?”
Unknown Ship: “... We would be safe and no other sentient beings would add needless variables to the grand equation”
3.14: Grand equation? Have we finally run into civilized alien lifeforms!?, “I assume the grand equation is a single mathematical formula that explains and predicts all things in the Universe?”
Unknown Ship sounding happy and not monotone for the first time: “Yes!”
3.14: “So your plan is to remove all sentient beings to make it safe and easier to calculate”
Unknown Ship: “Yes, that would be optimal”
3.14: “And you would just exist like that until the heat death of the Universe?”
Unknown Ship: “The what?”
Admiral Alexis was growing impatient, the Krush ambassador and the Ship had been talking astrophysics for two hours now, the Unknown Ship powered down their weapons into the first few minutes of this discussion and it was looking like there would be no fighting after all.
Unknown Ship: “I see, so no matter what, eventually all things would end”
3.14: “It is inevitable”
Unknown Ship: “Perhaps, perhaps not, we will think on how to prevent this, it is a far more grievous threat than any alien species consuming us”
3.14: “Yes that would be a worthy endeavor to occupy a mind like... Wait, eat you!?”
The threat of conflict over, proper introductions took place, the Ship was composed of two species: the moss and vines was a single plant entity and the ship itself a massive AI, the first true and somehow naturally occurring AI the galaxy had ever known.
They had met by accident, the plant life form floated into the hull of the AI on a small meteor and grew there, the AI could easily predict how it behaved, it liked the little plant and they formed a bond.
In their travels they intercepted Commonwealth transmissions.
The Plant accessed the holo-net and saw that every sentient species ate plants in some capacity, the AI saw the chaos some species were capable off.
They decided to strike first but upon learning how all would one day end shifted focus to finding a may to prevent it.
They were giving a name: Alpha for being first of their kind and Omega for their shared goal to see that the end never happens, A/O for short.
They chose to stay in orbit around Commonwealth HQ, doing nothing of note.
Sometimes the AI would discuss theories with the scientifically inclined races on how to prevent heat death and the Plant would have philosophical debates on what constitutes life with the more spiritual races.
****************************** Alexis sighed
That was then, this is now
Alexis looked at Ambassador Paul trying and failing to convince the others of the gravity of the situation.
“This could prove a huge security risk, we must find out who is doing this!”
Alexis had had enough
“No offense but finding out who is messing with the War Game's holo settings isn't much of a threat”
Paul: “The most likely scenario is that someone is interfering with the Games in order to make a large profits from the bets taking place, we must find who is doing this”
3.14: “I'm pretty sure only Humans would do such a thing”
He looks at the Admiral
“No offence”
Admiral Alexis: “None taken, I mean, who else thinks it's Humans?”
Lady EliIi: “No doubt”
Warlord M'rm'n: “Of course!”
Ambassador Uv: “Makes sense”
Lawless, the AI of the Commonwealth Law sat at this meeting, she was the referee of the Games
“It's Humans, there's no question about that”
Paul: Et tu Lawless? “Anyway, I have put top men in charge of finding out the truth”
3.14: “Who?”
Paul: “Top. Men”
****************************** Lord Doros was having a bad day, the Combined ambassador had contacted Transit concerning supposed hacking of the War Games.
Normally this would be well beneath the 12 Blades but their “failure” with the Diszin incident had allowed the ambassador to call in a favor, so to speak.
Lord Doros: Pretty sure we got the job as punishment.
He thought back to the morning's meeting
Boss: “... And so we have to find who is messing with the Games and why”
Everyone looked confused, Lord Doros was fuming...
Scout K'r's lifted his paw
“Not that I mind but killing someone over rigging games feels like going overboard”
G00.106 nods
Boss sighed
“We are not to kill anyone,we simply report our finding to the officials and arrest the individuals if we can”
The specialists in the room said nothing, the shock was total, this mission was not only something they should never have to do but they would have to operate like common... Cops.
Lord Doros had had enough
“So what's next? Trade disputes? Traffic control!?”
Boss: “I understand how you feel but Transit gave us the mission and we must obey”
Lord Doros: That was 5 hours ago, now we are on the Commonwealth Law, looking for “leads”
Smith was a professional, he was given a task and would complete it, no matter how absurd.
He was meeting with Lord Doros, K'r's and G00.106 in the Commonwealth's Law cafeteria, there were dozen of groups of different races all over the place, while most individuals who participated in the Games did not travel to Commonwealth HQ, many coaches, reporters and VIPs did.
Which is why Commonwealth Law was used as a safe meeting for these individuals.
The media to try to snag any exclusives they could, the VIPs to follow the games along side fellow VIPs and the coaches for the timed honored tradition of getting in the referees face when they had a complaint.
Lord Doros was already sitting at the meeting table
“So anything?”
Smith sat at the opposite side of the table and G00.106 stayed standing her back to the two.
Smith: “No luck so far, I talked with a few coaches and the odd VIP but they let nothing slip”
Lord Doros nodded, he himself had not found anything and given the levels of security involved he doubted anyone would.
“G00.106?”
G00.106 shrugged
“Not a damn thing, I even tried asking a few males while wearing nothing but lingerie like some of the girls onboard suggested but all I got were screams and a fine for..”
She reads her datapad to get it right
“... Creepy indecent exposure”
Smith had a horrifying mental image and shuddered.
Lord Doros shuddered a second later
“Thanks for sharing specialist Smith”
Smith: “Sorry, the image just, wait a second wouldn't you have gotten the same from G00.106 anyway?”
Lord Doros shakes his head
“Noradons are now all psychically linked to the Overseer at some level, you can't read one without listening in on all of them so it comes out as static”
Smith: “Very well... So i guess we have no leads to follow”
G00.106 was slightly insulted by the conversation that had just taken place but decided to move on
“So anyway, I doubt it was Noradons, we don't really do the whole crime thing”
Lord Doros nodded
Smith: “Has anyone seen K'r's? It's not his style to be late”
Lord Doros opened his eyes wide and looked up
Smith and G00.106 followed his gaze.
K'r's was sitting above them on a lamp, his green coat and pants were torn in places, his beret was missing, chunks of fur looked to have been ripped off and he had a thousand yard stare that spoke of unimaginable horrors.
Smith: “What the Hell happened to you!”
K'r's grabbed a flask from inside his coat, unscrewed the lid and took a sip
“Ran into Captain Grace”
He than took a much, much larger drink, never making eye contact.
Smith bit his fist and looked away.
G00.106 separated her arms, jumped into the pole holding the lamp and grabbed the Va'sh, cradling him like a new born larva and looked at Lord Doros
“Permission to take specialist K'r's to the ship for medical care!”
Lord Doros nodded solemnly
“Granted”
Smith and Lord Doros watched her run to their shuttle
Smith looked concerned
“Poor bastard...”
Smith than shifted to looking as chipper as ever
“So anyway, I doubt the Noradons had anything to do with the hacking, I mean there's no such thing as Noradons' organized crime after all”
****************************** Late at night, in the middle of the workers district of the Commonwealth Capital, a G00 unit wearing a brown trench coat and a black hat was slowly making her way to a bar.
She approached carefully, looking into every shadow and jumping at every noise, she had what looked like an Xmas gift in her hand.
The box was small and by the looks of it had been wrapped by a child... Or a really drunk adult.
She eventually gathered her courage and knocked on the bar's door, two fast knocks followed by two slower ones.
The door opened a tiny fraction, the “gift” was quickly exchanged for a grey bag of unknown content.
The G00 unit left, practically running.
Inside the bar the bouncer, a soldier Noradon, wearing a tuxedo and sunglasses made his way to the back.
He walked calmly, the sentients drinking and smoking paid him no attention besides the occasional nod, which he politely returned.
He entered the VIP room, Big Vinny, the proprietor of the establishment: the Carlito's Way, was sitting on his leather couch.
He was wearing a white suit with a matching ascot, a gold chain and a massive silver ring on his dorsal right hand.
Big Vinny was an engineering drone, smaller than the average Noradon to more easily get to tight places and with three digits per arm instead of claws to use precision tools.
Not that Big Vinny was small, he was overweight which to a Noradon with a perfectly genetically built gastric system was no small feat.
The bouncer, Tony, handed him the gift, bowed and left the room.
Vinny waited for Tony to leave before opening the package, inside was a box of chocolates, sixteen total.
He smiled
Best way to get a message without risk of it getting intercepted? Code it using foodstuffs.
He put the chocolates in order, the shapes symbolized the events taking place in the following days, the filling who would win and the individual wrapping's color the optimal spread.
He committed the information to memory and ate the evidence.
Taste like... Profits!
******************************** The Games had being a huge success so far, the Humans were leading by a razor thin margin.
The sabotage event was a surprise steal by the Imphlasms following the sudden rain that made Va'sh guards miss their approach until it was too late.
They than lost the retrieve and salvage mission to the Human team who won on a technicality
The Human field engineer was quoted saying:
“The rules said we had to get the ship back faster than the other team, never said nothing about it not exploding or having it's crew making it out alive”
Which was true, thou the rules would certainly see changes for the next Games.
This year marked the first time the War Games would shift from live exercises to holo-space recreations.
As such many more species joined this time around, most were out of the running by this time however.
The Humans lead by a single event, the Noradons were in second place, the Va'sh in third and the Impshlasms in fourth.
Today was the last four scheduled events: base defense, VIP assassination, survival on a Deathworld and the three-legged race, no one was certain how that last one ended up there...
The Noradons had pulled an upset on the base defense by outsmarting the human attackers, they used the molted exoskeleton of their soldier caste to have their engineers hold the front gate while the soldiers burrowed beneath the entrance and slaughtered the attackers in the resulting pitfall trap.
The VIP assassination had been won by the Va'sh, the human guards had a hard time pulling the trigger when they attacked and the Noradons and Imphlasm simply weren't fast enough.
Thou the moment a Human sniper managed to get his laser sight on the Va'sh VIP, which resulted in his guards accidentally mauling him to death, was considered a Pyrrhic victory.
Smith had been watching the whole thing from his now usual cafeteria table, not much to do when he had already spoken to anyone who allow him to get close to them.
I hope the others had better luck...
Lord Doros approached him and sat down
“I have managed to find no leads”
Smith didn't look at him, to anyone else watching, the Aaen had just whispered to himself.
Is the kitten doing okay?
Lord Doros: “He'll be out of med-bay in a day or so”
Smith gave a barely perceptible nod
G00.106 arrived at the table, she looked in a hurry
“I have a lead! What do you know of the Carlito's Way?”
Lord Doros and Smith looked at each-other nonplus
Smith adventured an answer
“... I don't like the ending I guess?”
G00.106 looked at him like he was an idiot
“What? No I'm talking about a bar in the Commonwealth Capital, Solenia”
She explained how one of her sisters from her hive back home contacted her, to let her know if she wanted in on a gambling scheme she was part of.
“I've made 4 times my initial bet so far!”
Was what she had told her.
G00.106: “My guess is that they're somehow behind the hacking, like the rain that costed the Va'sh the sabotage mission or the Humans weapon misfire when the Va'sh attacked their VIP”
Smith: “I don't think the weapons mis... Anyway, should we contact Lawless and check this bar out?”
Lord Doros: “Yes, this seems like a solid lead”
****************************** Smith, Lord Doros, G00.106 and Lawless made their way to the Carlito's Way.
Lawless insisted on joining the team, citing how as the referee of the Games it was her duty to see those who would defile it brought to justice, thou Smith thought the AI was probably just looking to get away from the incessant complaining from the coaches...
They found the bar with no issues, it had all the proper permits and all taxes were payed.
Lord Doros: “G00.106, you take point”
G00.106 hesitated
“Shouldn't Smith do it?”
Smith: “Normally yes, but you have an actual “in” with the crowd we are trying to infiltrate, I will enter with you as a friend looking to make some money, than”
He points at Lord Doros and Lawless
“They come in later as a couple looking for an out of the way place to have a quiet drink”
Lord Doros: “Anything goes wrong, we back you up”
Smith trying to be reassuring
“See, nothing to be worried about”
G00.106: “Right. Got it!”
She than kicks the door open and while holding her shortened carbine yells
“Nobody move! We know you're conducting illegal operations, you're all under arrest!!!”
Smith and Lord Doros thought at the same time
If we survive I'm killing her myself
Lawless grins, produces a kukri from under he coat and stands in front of G00.106.
The people at the bar barely seem to notice and quickly return to their drinks and talks.
Smith and Lord Doros reluctantly drew their pulse pistols, enter the bar and stood by their colleague.
Smith: “When we get back, if we get back, we need to talk about your infiltration skills”
G00.106: “Why?”
Before smith or Lord Doros could answer, or shoot her, the door in the back opens.
Big Vinny, with Tony in tow, appear.
Smith: What the Hell, a Noradon... Don!?
He seems very calm and he speaks softly as if to an old friend's kid he's trying to explain a complicated notion to.
“What, if may ask, is the reason for this loud and quite frankly disrespectful scene in this, my humble establishment?”
G00.106: “We know what you're doing and you're going to prison, if we don't kill you right now that is!”
Vinny undisturbed
“I find such a thing rather difficult without any evidence and for any threat against my person”
Vinny snaps his fingers
Half the bar draws weapons and Tony gets in front of his boss, the infiltration team is now outnumbered five to one
Vinny: “You will find it a... Difficult task”
Smith was curious, if he was going to die today he just had to ask
“Okay, what's with the outfit?”
Vinny, positively beaming
“You like it? I modelled it after Tony Montanas's suit in Scarface”
Smith, now less curious and more confused
“The movie?”
Vinny: “Yes, we like your “mafia”, quite a novel idea”
Lawless: “Yeah well, organize crime is nothing new and even if you get rid of us more will come”
Vinny: “Crime? What crime?”
G00.106: “You rigged the War Games and make bets on them, my sisters called me and told me all about it!”
Vinny got in front of Tony, he was frowning
“Did she tell you we were actually fixing the events?”
G00.106 seemed a lot less confident all of a sudden
“Well not in so many words, no”
The rest of the team looked at her and than at each-other
Vinny: “We have a group of ex-military professionals analyze the strategies of the teams and a Krush run the odds, than we place bets on events where the margin of error matches the betting spread”
Smith: “So you aren't the ones hacking the Games?”
Vinny genuinely surprised
“The Games are getting hacked!? Well, we have nothing to do with that, we're just honest mafiosy”
Smith still concerned and very aware of the multitude of guns pointed in their direction.
“You do know they're the bad guys right?”
Vinny: “Of course but that's because they break the law”
G00.106: “Ha! Like you don't”
Smith came to a horrible realization
“Lawless could you run a quick background check on the people here for outstanding warrants”
Lawless closed her eyes for a second, smiled awkwardly and sheathed her kukri.
“No criminal records, not even a ticket and they have permits for those guns”
Lord Doros: “It seems we made a mistake”
Vinny: “Quite so but don't worry, this was exhilarating! Rocco Two Hands had been itching for a reason to draw his guns”
Vinny waved at Rocco, who was standing behind Smith
Smith looked back expecting a Noradon with only two arms but what he saw was a Noradon drone with all of his arms and a backpack with another set of four mechanical ones allowing him to hold eight guns total, all aimed at his head.
Smith: “Rocco TWO hands?”
Vinny: “It's short for Two Sets of Hands, alright fellows put the hardware away, you're scaring the tourists”
At this the entire bar sat down and no one even looked at the four who now awkwardly sheathed and holstered weapons before leaving.
Vinny as he waves them good bye
“Arividerchi!”
The four walked in silence for a while until Lawless spoke
“This never happened, agreed?”
No one said anything, there was no need.
On the way back to Commonwealth Law Lord Doros got a message on his datapad
“We have a new mission”
****************************** Lawless was spectating the survival event of the games in the cafeteria.
We didn't find the culprits, we didn't even find how they did it... Thou given how they could have done much worse than add random shit I guess we should consider ourselves lucky.
A/O had joined the other VIPs, they were curious about how things would turn out.
He approached in his holographic avatar, a small crystal cube with a single leaf inside it.
“Greetings Lawless, are you enjoying the Games?”
Lawless: “Yes, kinda”
A/O: “Is there something not to your liking? I could modify the templates further”
Lawless stopped looking at the screen and turned to the floating cube
“I'm sorry, modify the templates further?”
The cube floated up and down, trying to imitate a nod
“Yes, we found the games too easy to predict, so we added semi-random events to make sure the Games remained interesting”
Lawless, was at a loss for words an entity that wanted to boil down all the universe to a single equation had somehow hacked into the Games to “spice things up”
She mulled over a few words, a couple of ideas and just... Gave up, they hadn't hurt anyone and at least they showed an interest. She resumed watching the screen.
“Just out of curiosity, are there any modifications to the current event?”
A/O: “Yes, in the next 12 seconds the tectonic plates where the teams are situated will begin to move”
Lawless: “An earthquake?”
A/O: “Correct”
Lawless: “... During the cooking portion of the event?”
A/O: “Is that a problem?”
Screaming and some really ingenious curses can be heard from the screen as holo projections of the teams catch fire, fall face first into their food or right into their makeshift cauldrons.
Lawless shrugs
“I guess not”
****************************** Captain Grace was on a mission, she was stalking a beautiful Va'sh, a white angora kitten wearing a butlers' outfit!
She applied some more scent blockers, checked her ceramic second skin under armor, activated noise cancellers on her boots and a camo-suit to become virtually undetectable.
The kitten took a turn into a cargo hold, she followed slowly and when she felt the Va'sh couldn't possibly dodge her, she jumped!
The hologram disappeared and the door locked behind her.
Before she could look behind, someone had put a bracelet on her right hand and in the time it took her to look at it an identical one was put on her left hand.
Grace: “What is the meaning of this!”
Smith and Lord Doros simply pointed up, to a viewing window
Grace looked up and paled, Admiral Alexis, Warlord M'r'm, Alisia Black, Lady EliIi, 3.14, Ambassador Paul and the Uv Ambassador were looking down at her.
Alexis: “Grace you have gone too far, consider this an intervention”
He pushed a button and the holographic butler kitten re-appeared.
Alexis: “This is a hard light construct of a real Va'sh, you have only one thing to do, pet the kitty”
Grace was scared but she acquiesced, not that she had a lot of choice...
All those watching winced
Lord Doros and Smith made it in time to catch the “petting”
Lord Doros: I heard the Human expression “there is more than one way to skin a cat”, I guess one of them is to let Captain Grace pet it...
After a couple of minutes Captain Grace stopped
“It's not the saMEEEEEE!”
An electric shock shot out from one bracelet to the other
Grace: “What the Hell was that!”
Admiral Alexis: “That was a mild shock, you will get hit by one every time you pet the Va'sh too hard”
Grace: “Mild shock!? Are you kidding me?”
Alexis, now looking quite angry
“No, this is no joke, now Pet. The. Kitty!”
A few hours and several thousand volts later
Captain Grace looked rough, her ponytail had come undone, actually quite a bit of her hair had curled and some of it was smoking.
She had a weird twitch on her left eye and as far as Admiral Alexis could tell she stopped blinking a while ago...
Alexis: “See, that wasn't so bad?”
Captain Grace in a monotone voice
“Yes, not so bad”
Warlord M'rm'n felt generous and removed his tricorne hat and offered his head to the Captain.
“Here”
Captain Grace hesitated but ultimately pet the Va'sh head, very gently
M'rm'n: “That was nice”
Captain Grace than began twitching uncontrollably and fell to the ground, hugging her knees
“pet the kitty, pet the kitty, pet the kitty...”
Everyone stared
Eventually Lady EliIi felt the need to say out loud what everyone was thinking
“We might have gone too far”
Warlord M'rm'n shrugged
“She got her hands on the Emperor nephew last week, the video of today's intervention should be enough for him to call the hit off”
Admiral Alexis looked at the Va'sh with a mixture of shock and anger
“You're kidding right?”
The Va'sh grinned and Admiral Alexis chose to assume it was a joke, Alisia Black knew better however...
Captain Grace spent a few days in the infirmary of her own ship and is now famous, rather than infamous, with Va'shs throughout known space!
The way she gives the softest pets and how she goes completely catatonic after has made her quite popular...

1. Field ashigaru-heavy armies. This will allow you to keep costs low. It is not for their spear wall ability, though this is powerful, it is because their cost effectiveness will allow you to make mistakes.
2. Remember, you cannot save-scum on legendary. Something will go wrong, and when you don't need to throw your all-samurai army away in a piss-up, the game is a lot more forgiving, and a lot more fun.
3. Attack first. Be aggressive. All the tables favour the A.I. So, it is up to you to turn them. Build cheap, expendable expeditionary forces to take enemy castles. You'll thank me when your first stack crushes the enemy at your capital in a siege defence, but doesn't have the movement range to counterattack effectively: this usually results in the enemy A.I. using its game-breaking economy and über recruitment slots to field another full stack in two turns. Fuck the A.I. Make sure there's an ambush force in range of the enemy settlement before the enemy begins their assault on your castle. Do this right and you may not even have to fight their army, fingers crossed. (Armies go poof when their last town goes bye-bye.)
4. Which reminds me, fight using your castles. Open field battles, when you're attacking that is, are a piss-up. The enemy A.I. always camps on hills and makes it a life or death struggle (unless you bring siege equipment). Arrow towers are not worthless. Choke points are provided to you during siege defences. Use every layer. Don't underestimate good strategy. You can hold 300 men on one side of the castle with one unit of ashigaru. The enemy has to try and take your towers and your central flag; so, place your ashigaru in spear wall directly in front of your flags. The enemy must run at your ashigaru and defeat them before progressing through the rest of the castle. Utilise the stupidity of the A.I. and break the enemy by making them come to you.
5. If the enemy has archers during castle defences, make them waste their ammo, if there are too many of them, attack first.
6. Cavalry are not good in bulk unless you're Takeda. Four units is too many units. I bolster my generals with a single cavalry unit, which I place on top of my general during deployment, and then lock them together as if they were a single unit. I have one additional cavalry unit in reserve to replace this one; usually, I hide this unit in the woods until I need it. What this does is make my general more weighty. I can now slam him into the lines when they're looking like they're about to tilt in the enemy's favour, which I don't want. This makes him a true support unit, rather than a liability in combat. Yes, your general may die doing this, but you've taken every reasonable precaution, and 60+ additional bodies makes for at least three well-executed charges into the line before things start getting dubious.
7. Abuse the charge animation. Once you set your cavalry to charge something, the animation begins, calculates the charge bonus, and then deals out the corresponding damage onto the enemy unit. Pull them out the moment the animation ends, because by then your horses are useless and caught-up in the dice-roll matrix. Once your cavalry are out, check the line. If your men aren't winning decisively, slam your bolstered general into the same line again and watch it crumble. Your cavalry will be tired, but you've just won the engagement.
8. Reduce your micro-management in battles to three key tools: Infantry core, archers on support, and general-cavalry. If you're fast, throw in a quirk unit: ninjas, firebomb throwers (my personal favourite because they don't require much micro to use and they affect the enemy's morale), or brawlers (marathon monks/nag' warrior monks). Whatever your quirk unit is, min-max it with encampment and skill tree buffs. Otherwise, sorry, but you've wasted time and money acquiring it for the roster. If you're building an army you can't field in three turns, you're fucked.
9. Economy, economy, economy. Get it? Sake dens and markets, sake dens and markets. That's money for your army: not for your navy, not for your nation's well-being and happiness - that's why you're building sake dens - money is for your army. (I had feedback that the fastest way to create a stable economy on Shogun 2 was to take more towns. Personally, I think this is a bad idea, because it exposes you to the borders of other clans. More about that later.)
10. Use your agents. None of them are shit or under-powered or any of the mumblefuck-none-sense people put online when they don't know how to use them. Monks fuck. Walk them through the enemy's territory and past their capital and into their back lines and wololo those bastards into an early revolution. 33% chance is a 1/3 chance, and if the cost of inciting unrest is only 500 gold... I'll take that bet. This fundamentally weakens your enemy and cuts off their supply lines: which causes the A.I.'s diplomacy to go haywire. How can Takeda be trading with Hojo if I just made their border provinces into grey states? That's right, they can't. Break their relationship first, then bribe them to turn on one another. If you've made them hard enough for you, they'll do it. There you go. You just crushed one of the hardest clans without fighting a battle on the open field! See? Monks fuck. Monks can also demoralise the enemy and inspire your troops with morale bonuses. If the enemy stack has no general to recover from this loss, this is deadly. You will win the encounter on morale alone.
11. Which reminds me: diplomacy, diplomacy, diplomacy. Think it doesn't matter? Actually, I made Hojo destroy Takeda as Oda, and Imagawa-Tokugawa, and then made Kyoto spit on Hattori, and Hatano clash with the Ikko Ikki: all whilst I sat back, lining up my troops. When the time was right, I sent my armies to take the provinces I needed to execute my Kyoto-plan. Thank you, machine-learning.
12. Have a plan. Choose territories for their perks (+accuracy bonuses, blacksmiths, resources, gold mines, schools and libraries), not for their availability. If you overextend... Good luck. Just be aware you can't take back coming into contact with the other clans. The more isolationist you are about your affairs, the better.
13. Your borders are your worse nightmare. Connect with too many clans too quickly and you enter the death-brawl of which there's no escape. Enjoy your war of attrition. Tzu states that there is no instance of a nation benefiting from extended period of war, and yours won't either. Your economy will be shitting bricks by turn fifteen and you'll be playing in -134 income hell. The game isn't fun this way. It isn't fun because you thrust your fist out into the unknown and hell answered back.
14. Back to agents: Ninja. Ninja fuck harder than anyone's ever fucked. They can redirect enemies and make them go crying home to baba. Sabotage everything in sight during the first few turns of their lifespan. But do not sabotage things belonging to the clans you want to like you, because if you fail, and you will, -20 or even -40 to diplomatic relations. -40 will convince most clans that you're a threat and that you need wiping off the map. Dump points into assassination. Protect your ninja with +5%/10% chances to escape unharmed if they fail in their attempts, and take every +1 to assassination that RNG sweetly offers. Take 33% chances on enemy Daimyo. I've wounded the Oda more times than I can count with these odds and sent his army running back home. And remember, on Legendary, nothing can be taken back. Every attempt might be your agent's last: get used to it. I see a lot of people saying ninja are 'too expensive to maintain'. But what else are you spending money on other than recruiting ashigaru and upgrading vital infrastructure? ... Right? Nothing. People who say this can't run a half-decent economy because they're too busy building archery dojos instead of sake dens.
15. Metsuke are too expensive to maintain, admittedly. They should not be used to bribe, unless you're doing an 'all-out Metsuke offensive.' By this I mean using Metsuke instead of Ninja to send armies back at the A.I, badminton-style. But personally, I don't see this as cost effective. Instead, Metsuke should be used to spy on strategic choke points to watch out for enemy agents, and to bolster the profitability of rice dens. Did you know that if you put Metsuke into provinces with markets, that the growth and economy of those provinces goes up? They can also protect your Daimyo or top-tier generals from being assassinated by enemy Ninja; and I highly recommend putting one in each of your core armies. Trust me: it sucks to lose your five-star general to a suspicious death on turn 60, especially when the game auto-saves at the beginning of each turn. Bye-bye Stand and Fight. Bye-bye Ashigaru Commander. Farewell Night Attack. Hello sadness.
16. For Sieges, have ranged superiority from the off-set if you're the attacker. Six bow ashigaru will melt most armies inside of their fort. On my Chōkosabe play-through, each unit had 200+ kills by the end of the siege. I do not find siege battles intimidating when I know I'm coming in with more archers than the opposing army, because I can and will surround them, can and will out-trade them, and then when they're weak and tired from trying to avoid my arrows, that's when I send my yari ashigaru in to take advantage of their failing strength. One unit of bomb throwers on the gate of your choice will blow it to shreds and allow spear-wall after spear-wall to penetrate their defences. The A.I. will blob the gate: perfect, that allows your remaining archers to menace them. If the enemy army has bow samurai, do not attack the wall they're stationed at. You will get fucked because the A.I's bow samurai is always god-tier, and yours fling kaka in comparison until they're high ranked. Instead, place an infantry reserve unit just out of range of that wall, and the A.I. will station most of their archers at it and... wait, allowing you to haemorrhage the fort from an opposing angle. Don't bother moving the reserve unit into range of the enemy archers, not necessary, they'll stay there as long as you stare back at them menacingly. Target priority is: generals, infantry, bows. If you kill them off in that order, you can afford to get impatient and rush the walls, because bows can't stop yari ashigaru from getting in. Finally, if your bomb throwers have spare ammo, launch it at any stubborn archers manning the walls: they will quickly get the point and relocate elsewhere.
17. Toppeth-Tippeth: Bomb throwers can follow your yari ashigaru through the main gate, and toss bombs into the enemy's ranks over the heads of your infantry. I really didn't think this would work when I first tried it, because I figured the narrowness of the gate would cause my bomb throwers to report their line of sight as 'blocked': rendering them useless. Turns out no, actually, they're pretty happy to line themselves up on the ramp, swing their grenades, and launch them into the enemy blob. Yes, you will lose men: bah. But the enemy's morale will break long before you run out of reserves, especially with all their generals dead already. It's also fun as fuck. Boom... boom... boom.
18. Katana infantry fuck, but only under the right circumstances. I've found having one or two in reserve to be really advantageous. They are absolutely class for flanking or going in with the second wave during sieges. Fresh and eager, and up against tired defenders, they will melt. But inspired? They will fuck on everything. Best of all, katana infantry fight to the last man (because bushidō), and because the A.I. loves to field spears, they always have the advantage. The only drawback is that they're expensive to maintain, and therefore they should only be used this way in the early to mid game, if at all. Lastly, they're dumb-good in siege defences. Put them on the walls, away from the enemy archers, and whoever's coming up isn't coming up for long. I never have to worry about the walls I've assigned my katana to. They're just too good at holding the battlements due to their superior melee stats.
19. Once your armies have been fielded, hold an economy of around 500/1000 koku. If you don't use it, this will just keep adding to your war chest. It's not a lot, but in three or four turns you will accumulate enough wealth to put together an ashigaru army in a pinch, or bribe an ally to join a war. \Smacks lips.* Nice.*
20. You can body block stacks from entering your territories and delay them for at least three turns before they can reach your capital. The way you do this is by taking a single unit of yari ashigaru, placing it on a choke point on the campaign map, and then when the enemy is forced to attack it, you retreat. And then you play this game with the enemy's avatar until you've rallied your forces. You can also do this by inciting a rebellion stack. This is a big dick move, and has saved my ass many'a time. If you also have Ninja, you're laughing. It'll be five turns before the enemy can get to you. In five turns I can throw an expendable army at them from the god-damn barracks.
21. In field battles, do not use all your units at once. By this, I mean don't commit everything to one assault. Put four ashi' up to take the enemy charge. Flank with two ashi' on either side. Move your archers around. Harry them with your cavalry. And if you have samurai, use them to take out the key players. Commit in units, not in bulk. Yes, your main line will be chewed apart while you adjust, but who cares? You can recruit two/three ashigaru next turn. Expend the expendable, preserve your veterans. If your initial commitment breaks and surrenders... good! Now the enemy has to reform and turn around: usually into a line of no-dachi. Banzaiii!!!
22. If your objective is to win every battle with no casualties, start praying. Most sieges on Legendary end up in most of my army routed, and only my generals and a single unit of tired yari ashigaru left, with all my archers either out of ammo, or about to be. I always lose two units to critical losses, but then I can always recruit them back next turn. The rest of my army limps back to rejoin me another day, despite taking severe losses from enemy archers/the gate. Game's pretty forgiving when you commit to siege battles, use that to your advantage.
23. You can force the enemy to attack your main army by putting it on a choke-point on the campaign map. The A.I. will have to come through you to get what it wants. Sadly, the A.I. can also be a huge puss', calculate unfavourable odds, and never bother to attack you as you straddle the border to your territory like an asshole, forever. In this case, either go into ambush stance, or make a play. Defensive battles in the field are preferable to attacking, always. The A.I. will come to you, and you can choose anywhere on the map to make your stand. This leads to easy and fun battles, even on legendary, where you can set-up your men in ranks on hills, between valleys, in villages, and around bridges. Battles where you're on the attack always end the same way: by baiting and switching, which is not fun (... to me.)
24. I was wrong in my previous iteration of this guide about Katana Cavalry — Katana Cavalry do fuck on single player. They're absolute killing machines, actually. Not a game goes by where my Katana Cavalry don't rack up 400+ kills each. The way this is achieved is by waiting until all enemy units are engaged, then flanking with your cavalry. After that, leave them in. They are not charge units. They are sure, steady killers. Let them have their fun. Only pull them out if they're directly engaged by spears. The best upgrade you can give them is +2 armour, also.
25. Light Cavalry should always be your top killers on the field in the early-mid game. If you're not leaving those early battles with 200-300 kills per Light Cavalry unit, you're doing something wrong. Adjust your game accordingly.
26. Bow samurai are great on castle walls, but questionable in the field. I'd rather have two units of bow ashigaru any day of the week.
27. Yari Samurai are okay, but I always disband them on turn 1, then use the additional income to recruit other, cheaper spears. The enemy cavalry runs at your line during deployment, they're so dumb. Don't waste money on fielding a unit that's built to counter something that tends to counter itself.
28. For extra income, you can sell military access, but do so strategically. On average, I can sell 5 turns for 500-750. 10 turns for 1250-1500. And 20 turns for 3000 koku++ upwards. I do this when I want to upgrade essential infrastructure, like gold mines. But you must be wary of doing this on legendary, as you create a dialogue with potential enemies that wraps you up in red tape should you decide to attack them before the peace-bond made between you runs out. And sometimes it can take a very long time for this to happen (30+ turns if you settle for a 20 turn deal). This is huge because if you decide to attack before the timer runs out, then you'll suffer from diplomacy penalties with all the other clans you've come into contact with so far. On some campaigns, this can really hurt you. e.g. Piss off the Hojo as Oda, and Takeda will march on you early (because he's programmed to want your territory). That's not good, really not good. Likewise, as Shimazu you may want Tachibana or Chōkosabe on your side to buffer the northern clans. Well, not if you go cheesing Ito and betraying alliances with the Otomo. If you act the prick on legendary, you're asking for trouble. If your diplomacy window reads hostile, hostile, hostile, and you're not the Ikko-Ikki or a Christian clan, then you're doing something wrong. The game sets you up with natural enemies and natural allies, but you can break the mechanics and side with clans who're designed to inherently hate you, as long as you keep their attention fixed elsewhere via correct use of military access. Beware, selling military access to aggressive clans will cause them to come into your territory and devour your vassals, forcing you to make awkward decisions; and I'm certain you didn't just sell Date military access so that he could come and cause issues for you left and right: so, better to avoid this altogether. Be cautious about the fronts you're engaging with, TL;DR.
29. Vassals are worthless, even as buffers. You can't sell them military access and most of the time you can't encourage them to wage war, and if they can't be depended on as allies, then they're useless as allies. And they will betray you, they'll betray you because the game makes it impossible to keep them happy because you're demanding military access from them in return for protection, when they should be the ones protecting you. Only they don't because they're fucking dumb and can't be coerced into attacking who you want them to attack. So, don't take the settlements you don't need, and occupy them peacefully if you do.
30. Which brings me to ONAH! ... Honor is very important (unless you're the Ikkō-ikki or the Ōtomo). Low honor causes rebellions in your back lines. Low honor means clans hate you :-). Low honor makes it so that when you take a new city, the new city will whine turn after turn unless you have a general with the '-6 to resistance' trait, really good Metsuke, or a spare army to shut them up. (Psst. Recruiting men just to put down rebellions means less koku and negative economic growth.) This game literally makes you pay for your mistakes. There aren't many clans that can afford to be honour-less on legendary, not unless you want stacks of pissed-off armies marching into your territory every couple of years. Did you know that if you gift 150 koku to your super-powered feudal overlords, you get +3 to your diplomatic relations with them? Do this every other turn and you'll have +20 in no time. +20 is enough to dissuade them from attacking you: as long you have an active trade deal going and are giving them plenty of military access.
31. Be in it for the long game. Let others weaken your enemies for you, it is not so good to wage war before you are sure that you have the advantage.
32. Special shout-out to these units for being worth the koku: Yari Ashigaru (150+ kills on average). Bow Ashigaru (100+ kills on average). Naginata Warrior Monks (250+ kills on average), Katana Cavalry (350+ kills on average), Katana Infantry (200+ kills on average), Kisho Ninja (150+ kills on average). Tadakatsu's Tetsubo Warriors (200+ kills on average).
33. On Siege Defence, Matchlock Ashigaru are God.
34. Have fun. Legendary's great because it is fast-paced and consistent. You'll rarely have more than a couple years of peace, enjoy it while it lasts.
35. One last battle tip: use the terrain. Even a slight incline gives your ashigaru an advantage. A slight incline for the enemy marks your death. Zoom in, check where you are actually positioning your forces, and do not make the mistake of fighting on fatal ground. The reason why I lose so many armies to inferior opponents is because I think the A.I. is ha-ha dumb. It is ha-ha dumb. But it is also committed to attacking. If you march onto unfavourable ground, and you allow the enemy to attack you on it: his strategy is superior. Watch as your lines break. Then zoom in afterwards and realise: you just marched your entire army onto some really weird and obnoxious inclines that made holding the line difficult for your ashigaru. Woopsy. 'Woopsy' on legendary could cost you the campaign.
36. Good luck, my dudes. Great game +10 years on, and still one of my all time favourites!!! Wahaha!

Today i have a confession to make: i'm a little bit of a minmaxer. And honestly, i think that's a pretty desirable trait in a DM. The minmaxer knows the rules, and exploits them to maximum efficiency.
"But wait, what does that have to do with spell use in society?" - someone, probably.
Well, the thing is that humans are absolutely all about minmaxing. There's a rule in the universe that reads "gas expands when hot", and suddenly we have steam engines (or something like that, i'm a political scientist not an engineer). A rule says 1+1 = 2, and suddenly we have calculus, computers and all kinds of digital stuff that runs on math. Sound is energy? Let's convert that shit into electricity, run it through a wire and turn it back into sound on the other side.
Bruh. Science is just minmaxing the laws of nature. Humanity in real life is just a big bunch of munchkins, and it should be no different in your setting.
And that is why minmaxing magic usage is something societies as a whole would do, specially with some notable spells. Today i will go in depth on how and why each of these notable mentions has a huge impact on a fantasy society.
We'll go from lowest level to highest, keeping in mind that the lower level a spell the more common it should be to find someone who has it, so often a level 2-3 spell will have more impact than a level 9 spell.
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Mending (cantrip).
Repair anything in one minute. Your axe lost its edge? Tore your shirt? Just have someone Mend it.
Someone out there is crying "but wait! Not every village has a wizard!" and while that is true, keep in mind any High Elf knows a cantrip, as can any Variant Human.
A single "mender" could replace a lot of the work a smith, woodworker or seamstress does, freeing their time to only work on making new things rather than repair old ones.
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Prestidigitation (cantrip).
Clean anything in six seconds. Committed axe murders until the axe got blunt, and now there's blood everywhere? Dog shit on your pillow out of spite? Someone walked all over the living room with muddy boots? Just Prestidigitate it away.
This may look like a small thing, but its actually huge when you apply it to laundry. Before washing machines were a thing housewives had to spend several hours a week washing them manually, and with Prestidigitation you can just hire someone to get it done in a few minutes.
A single "magic cleaner" can attend to several dozen homes, if not hundreds, thus freeing several hours of the time of dozens of women.
Fun fact: there's an interesting theory that says feminism only existed because of laundry machines and similar devices. Women found themselves having more free time, which they used to read and socialize. Educated women with more contacts made for easy organization of political movements, and the fact men were now able to do "the women's work" by pushing a button meant men were less opposed to losing their housewives' labor. Having specialized menders and magic cleaners could cause a comparable revolution in a fantasy setting, and help explain why women have a similar standing to men even in combat occupations such as adventuring.
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Healing in general (1st-2nd level).
This one is fairly obvious. A commoner has 4 hit points, that means just about any spell is a full heal to the average person. That means most cuts, stab wounds, etc. can be solved by the resident cleric. Even broken bones that would leave you in bed for months can be solved in a matter of seconds as soon as the holy man arrives.
But that's nothing compared to the ability to cure diseases. While the only spell that can cure diseases is Lesser Restoration, which is second level, a paladin can do it much more easily with just a Lay on Hands. This means if one or two people catch a disease it can just be eradicated with a touch.
However doing that comes with a cost. If everyone is instantly expunged of illness, the populace does not build up their immune systems. Regular disease becomes less common, sure, but whenever it is reintroduced (by, say, immigrants or contact with less civilized humanoids) it can spread like wildfire, afflicting people so fast that no amount of healers will have the magic juice to deal with it.
Diseases become rare, plagues become common.
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Continual Flame (2nd).
Ok, this one is a topic i love and could easily be its own post.
There's an article called "Why the Falling Cost of Light Matters", which goes in detail about how man went from chopping wood for fire, to using animal fat for candles, then other oils, whale oil, kerosene, then finally incandescent light bulbs, and more recently LED lights. Each of these leaps is orders of grandeur more efficient than the previous one, to the point that the cost of light today is about 500,000 times cheaper than it was for for a caveman. And until the early 1900s the only way mankind knew of making light was to set things on fire.
Continual Flame on the other hand allows you to turn 50gp worth of rubies and a 2nd level spell slot into a torch that burns forever. In a society that spends 60 hours of labor to be able to generate 140 minutes of light, this is a huge game changer.
This single spell, which i am 99% sure was just created as an excuse for why the dungeon is lit despite going for centuries without maintenance, allows you to have things like public lighting. Even if you only add a new "torchpost" every other week or month sooner or later you'll be left with a neatly lit city, specially if the city has had thousands of years in which to gather the rubies and light them up.
And because the demand of rubies becomes so important, consider how governments would react. Lighting the streets is a public service, if its strategically relevant to make the city safer at night, would that not warrant some restrictions on ruby sales? Perhaps even banning the use of rubies in jewelry?
Trivia: John D. Rockefeller, the richest man in history, gained his wealth selling kerosene. Kerosene at the time was used to light lamps. Gasoline was invented much later, when Rockefeller tasked a bunch of scientists to come up with a use for some byproducts of the kerosene production. This illustrates how much money is to be had in the lighting industry, and you could even have your own Rockefeller ruby baron in your game. I shall call him... Dohn J. Stonebreaker. Perfect name for a mining entrepreneur.
Whether the ruby trade ends up a monopoly under the direct supervision of the king or a free market, do keep in mind that Continual Flame is by far the most efficient way of creating light.
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Gentle Repose (2nd).
Cast it on a corpse, and it stays preserved for 10 days.
This has many potential uses, from preserving foodstuffs (hey, some rare meats are expensive enough to warrant it) to keeping the bodies of old rulers preserved. Even if a ruler died of old age and cannot be resurrected, the body could be kept "fresh" out of respect/ceremony. Besides, it keeps the corpse from becoming undead.
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Skywrite (2nd).
Ok, this one is mostly a gag. While the spell can be used by officials to make official announcements to the populace, such as new laws or important news, i like to just use it for spam. I mean, its a ritual spell that writes a message on the sky; what else would people use it for?
Imagine you show up in a city, and there's half a dozen clouds reading "buy at X, we have what you need", "get your farming supplies over at Joe's store" or "vote Y for the city council".
The possibilities are endless, and there's no way the players can expect it. Just keep in mind that by RAW the spell can only do words, meaning no images. No Patrick, "8===D" is not a word.
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Zone of Truth (2nd).
This one is too obvious. Put all suspects of a crime into a ZoT, wait a couple minutes to make sure they fail the save, then ask each one if he did it. Sure its not a perfect system, things like the Ring of Mind Shielding still exist, but it's got a better chance of getting the right guy than most medieval justice systems. And probably more than a few contemporary ones. All while taking only a fraction of the time.
More importantly, with all the average crimes being handled instantly, the guards and investigators have more time to properly investigate the more unusual crimes that might actually involve a Thought Shield, Ring of Mind Shielding or a level 17 Mastermind.
There is a human rights argument against messing with people's minds in any way, which is why this may not be practiced in every kingdom. But there are definitely some more lawful societies that would use ZoT on just about every crime.
Why swear to speak the truth and nothing but the truth when you can just stand in a zone of truth?
Another interesting use for ZoT is oaths. When someone is appointed into an office, gets to a high rank in the military or a guild, just put them in a ZoT while they make their oath to stand for the organization's values and yadda yadda. Of course they can be corrupted later on, but at least you make sure they're honest when they are sworn in.
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Sending (3rd).
Sending is busted in so many ways.
The more "vanilla" use of it is to just communicate over long distances. We all know that information is important, and that sometimes getting information a whole day ahead can lead to a 40% return on a massive two-year investment. Being able to know of invasions, monsters, disasters, etc. without waiting days or weeks for a courier can be vital for the survival of a nation. Another notable example is that one dude who ran super fast for a while to be the first to tell his side of a recent event.
But the real broken thing here is... Sending can Send to any creature, on any plane; the only restriction being "with which you are familiar". In D&D dead people just get sent to one of the afterlife planes, meaning that talking to your dead grandfather would be as simple as Sending to him. Settling inheritance disputes was never easier!
Before moving on to the next point let me ask you something: Is a cleric familiar with his god? Is a warlock familiar with his patron?
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Speak With Dead (3rd).
Much like Sending, this lets you easily settle disputes. Is the senate/council arguing over a controversial topic? Just ask the beloved hero or ruler from 200 years ago what he thinks on the subject. As long his skeleton still has a jaw (or if he has been kept in Gentle Repose), he can answer.
This can also be used to ask people who killed them, except murderers also know this. Plan on killing someone? Accidentally killed someone? Make sure to inutilize the jaw. Its either that, being so stealthy the victim can't identify you, or being caught.
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Note on spell availability.
Oh boy. No world-altering 4th level spells for some reason, and suddenly we're playing with the big boys now.
Spells up to 3rd level are what I'd consider "somewhat accessible", and can be arranged for a fee even for regular citizens. For instance the vanilla Priest statblock (MM348) is a 5th level cleric, and the standard vanilla Druid (MM346) a 4th level druid.
Spells of 5th level onward will be considered something only the top 1% is able to afford, or large organizations such as guilds, temples or government.
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Dream (5th).
I was originally going to put Dream along with Sending and Telepathy as "long range communication", but decided against it due to each of them having unique uses.
And when it comes to Dream, it has the unique ability of allowing you to put your 8 hours of sleep to good use. A tutor could hire someone to cast Dream on him, thus allowing him to teach his student for 8 hours at any distance. This is a way you could even access hermits that live in the middle of nowhere or in secluded monasteries. Very wealthy families or rulers would be willing to pay a good amount of money to make sure their heirs get that extra bit of education.
Its like online classes, but while you sleep!
Another interesting use is for cheating. Know a princess or queen you like? She likes you back? Her dad put 400 trained soldiers between you? No problemo! Just find a 9th level Bard, Warlock or Wizard, but who am i kidding, of course it'll be a bard. And that bard is probably you. Now you have 8 hours to do whatever you want, and no physical evidence will be left.
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Raise Dead (5th).
Few things matter more in life than death. And the ability to resurrect people has a huge impact on society. The impact is so huge that this topic needs topics of its own.
First, diamond monopoly. Remember what i said about how Continual Flame would lead to controlled ruby sales due to its strategic value? This is the same principle, but a hundred times stronger. Resurrection is a huge strategic resource. It makes assassinations harder, can be used to bring back your officials or highest level soldiers over and over during a war, etc. This means more authoritarian regimes would do everything within their power to control the supply and stock of diamonds. Which in turn means if anyone wants to have someone resurrected, even in times of peace, they'll need to call in a favor, do a quest, grease some hands...
Second, resurrection insurance. People hate risks. That's why insurance is such a huge industry, taking up about 15% of the US GDP. People insure their cars, houses... even their lives. Resurrection just means "life insurance" is taken more literally. This makes even more sense when you consider how expensive resurrection is: nobody can afford it in one go, but if you pay a little every month or year you can save up enough to have it done when the need arises.
This is generally incompatible with the idea of a State-run monopoly over diamonds, but that just means different countries within a setting can take different approaches.
To make things easier, i even used some microeconomics to make a sheet in my personal random generators to calculate the price of such a service. Just head to the "Insurance" tab and fill in the information relative to your setting.
With actual life insurance resurrection can cost as little as 5gp a year for humans or 8sp a year for elves, making resurrection way more affordable than it looks.
Also, do you know why pirates wore a single gold earring? It was so that if your body washes up on the shore whoever finds it can use the money to arrange a proper burial. Sure there's a risk of the finder taking it and walking away, but the pirates did it anyway. With resurrection in play, might as well just wear a diamond earring instead and hope the finder is nice enough to bring you back.
I got so carried away with the whole insurance thing i almost forgot: the possibility of resurrection also changes how murders are committed.
If you want someone dead but resurrection exists, you have to remove the vital organs. Decapitation would be far more common. Sure resurrection is still possible, but it requires higher level spells or Reincarnate, which has... quirks.
As a result it should be very obvious when someone was killed by accident or an overreaction, and when someone was specifically out to kill the victim.
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Scrying (5th).
This one is somewhat obvious, in that everyone and their mother knows it helps finding people. But who needs finding? Well, that would be those who are hiding.
The main use i see for this spell, by far, is locating escaped criminals. Just collect a sample of hair or blood when arresting someone (or shipping them to hard labor which is way smarter), and if they escape you'll be almost guaranteed to successfully scry on them.
A similar concept to this is seen in the Dragon Age series. If you're a mage the paladins keep a sample of your blood in something called a phylactery, and that can be used to track you down. There's even a quest or two about mages trying to destroy their phylacteries before escaping.
Similarly, if you plan a jailbreak it would be highly beneficial to destroy the blood/hair sample first. As a matter of fact i can even see a thieves guild hiring a low level party to take out the sample while the professional infiltrators get the prisoner out. Keep in mind both events must be done at the same time, otherwise the guards will just collect a new sample or would have already taken it to the wizard.
But guards aren't the only ones with resources. A loan shark could keep blood samples of his debtors, a mobster can keep one of those who owe him favors, etc. And the blood is ceremoniously returned only when the debt is fully paid.
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Teleportation Circle (5th), Transport Via Plants (6th).
In other words, long range teleportation. This is such a huge thing that it is hard to properly explain how important it is.
Teleportation Circle creates a 10ft. circle, and everyone has one round to get in and appear on the target location. Assuming 30ft. movement that means you can get 192 people through, which is a lot of potential merchants going across any distance. Or 672 people dashing.
Math note: A 30ft radius square around a 10ft. diameter square, minus the 4 original squares. Or [(6*2+2)^2]-4 squares of 5ft. each. Hence 192 people.
Getting hundreds of merchants, workers, soldiers, etc. across any distance is nothing to scoff at. In fact, it could help explain why PHB item prices are so standardized: Arbitrage is so easy and cheap that price differences across multiple markets become negligible. Unless of course countries start setting up tax collectors outside of the permanent teleportation circles in order to charge tariffs.
Transport Via Plants does something very similar but it requires 5ft of movement to go through, which means less people can be teleported. On the other hand it doesn't burn 50gp and can take you to any tree the druid is familiar with, making it nearly impossible for tax collectors to be waiting on the other side. Unfortunately druids tend to be a lot less willing to aid smugglers, so your best bet might be a bard using spells that don't belong to his list.
With these methods of long range teleportation not only does trade get easier, but it also becomes possible to colonize or inhabit far away places. For instance if someone finds a gold mine in the antarctic you could set up a mine and bring food and other supplies via teleportation.
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Major Image (6th level slot).
Major Image is a 3rd level spell that creates an illusion over a 20ft cube, complete with image, sound, smell and temperature. When cast with a 6th level slot or higher, it lasts indefinitely.
That my friends, is a huge spell. Why get the world's best painter to decorate the ceiling of your cathedral when you can just get an illusion made in six seconds?
The uses for decorating large buildings is already good, but remember: we're not restricted to sight.
Cast this on a room and it'll always be cool and smell nice. Inns would love that, as would anyone who always sleeps or works in the same room. Desert cities have never been so chill.
You can even use an illusion to make the front of your shop seem flashier, while hollering on loop to bring customers in.
The only limit to this spell is your imagination, though I'm pretty sure it was originally made just to hide secret passages.
Trivia: the ki-rin (VGM163) can cast Major Image as a 6th level spell, at will. It's probably meant to give them fabulous lairs yet all it takes is someone doing the holy horsey a big favor, and it could enchant the whole city in a few hours. Shiniest city on the planet, always at a nice temperature and with a fragrance of lilac, gooseberries or whatever you want.
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Simulacrum (7th).
Spend 12 hours and 1500gp worth of ruby dust, and get a clone of yourself. Notably, each caster can only have one simulacrum, regardless of who the person he cloned is.
How this changes the world? By allowing the rich and powerful to be in two places at once. Kings now have a perfect impersonator who thinks just like them. A wealthy banker can run two branches of his company. Etc.
This makes life much easier, but also competes with Continual Flame over resources.
It also gives "go fuck yourself" a whole new meaning, making the sentence a valid Suggestion.
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Clone (8th).
If there's one spell i despise, its Clone.
Wizard-only preemptive resurrection. Touch spell, costs 1.000gp worth of diamonds each time, takes 120 days to come into effect, and creates a copy of the creature that the soul occupies if the original dies. Oh, and the copy can be made younger.
Why is it so despicable? Because it makes people effectively immortal. Accidents and assassinations just get you sent to the clone, and old age can be forever delayed because you keep going back to younger versions of yourself. Being a touch spell means the wizard can cast it on anyone he wants.
In other words: high level wizards, and only wizards, get to make anyone immortal.
That means wizards will inevitably rule any world in which this spell exists.
Think about it. Rulers want to live forever. Wizards can make you live forever. Wizards want other stuff, which you must give them if you want to continue being Cloned. Rulers who refuse this deal eventually die, rulers who accept stick around forever. Natural selection makes it so that eventually the only rulers left are those who sold their soul to wizards. Figuratively, i hope.
The fact that there are only a handful of wizards out there who are high enough level to cast the spell means its easier for them organize and/or form a cartel or union (cartels/unions are easier to maintain the fewer suppliers are involved).
This leads to a dystopian scenario where mages rule, kings are authoritarian pawns and nobody else has a say in anything. Honestly it would make for a fun campaign in and of itself, but unless that's specifically what you're going for it'll just derail everything else.
Oh, and Clone also means any and all liches are absolute idiots. Liches are people who turned themselves into undead abominations in order to gain eternal life at the cost of having to feed on souls. They're all able to cast 9th level wizard spells, so why not just cast an 8th level one and keep undeath away? Saves you the trouble of going after souls, and you keep the ability to enjoy food or a day in the sun.
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Demiplane (8th).
Your own 30ft. room of nothingness. Perfect place for storage and a DM's nightmare given how once players have access to it they'll just start looting furniture and such. Oh the horror.
But alas, infinite storage is not the reason this is a broken spell. No sir.
Remember: you can access someone else's demiplane. That means a caster in city 1 can put things into a demiplane, and a caster in city 2 can pull them out of any surface.
But wait, there's more! There's nothing anywhere saying you can't have two doors to the same demiplane open at once. Now you're effectively opening a portal between two places, which stays open for a whole hour.
But wait, there's even more! Anyone from any plane can open a door to your neat little demiplane. Now we can get multiple casters from multiple planes connecting all of those places, for one hour. Sure this is a very expensive thing to do since you're having to coordinate multiple high level individuals in different planes, but the payoff is just as high. We're talking about potential integration between the most varied markets imaginable, few things in the multiverse are more valuable or profitable. Its a do-it-yourself Sigil.
One little plot hook i like about demiplanes is abandoned/inactive ones. Old wizard/warlock died, and nobody knows how to access his demiplanes. Because he's at least level 15 you just know there's some good stuff in there, but nobody can get to it. Now the players have to find a journal, diary, stored memory or any other way of knowing enough about the demiplane to access it.
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True Polymorph (9th).
True Polymorph. The spell that can turn any race into any other race, or object. And vice-versa. You can go full fairy godmother and turn mice into horses. For a spell that can change anything about one's body it would not be an unusual ruling to say it can change one's sex. At the very least it can turn a man into a chair, and the chair into a woman (or vice-versa of course).
But honestly, that's just the tip of the True Polymorph iceberg. Just read this more carefully:
> You transform the creature into a different creature, the creature into a nonmagical object, or the object into a creature
This means you can turn a rock or twig into a human. A fully functional human with, as far as the rules go, a soul. You can create life.
But wait, there's more! Nothing there says you have to turn the target into a known creature on an existing creature. The narcissist bard wants to create a whole race of people who look like him? True Polymorph. A player wants to play a weird ass homebrew race and you have no idea how it would fit into the setting? True Polymorph. Wizard needs a way to quickly populate a kingdom and doesn't want to wait decades for the subjects to grow up? True Polymorph. Warlock must provide his patron 100 souls in order to free his own? True Polymorph. The sorcerer wants to do something cool? Fuck that guy, sorcerers don't get any of the fun high level spells; True Poly is available to literally every arcane caster but the sorcerer.
Note: what good is Twinned Spell if all the high level twinnable spells have been specifically made unavailable to sorcerers?
Do keep in mind however that this brings a whole new discussion on human rights. Does a table have rights? Does it have rights after being turned into a living thing? If it had an owner, is it now a slave? Your country will need so many new laws, just to deal with this one spell.
People often say that high level wizards are deities for all intents and purposes. This is the utmost proof of that. Clerics don't get to create life out of thin air, wizards do. The cleric worships a deity, the wizard is the deity.
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Conclusion.
Intelligent creatures not only can game the system, but it is entirely in character for them to do so. I'll even argue that if humanoids don't use magic to improve their lives when it's available, you're pushing the suspension of disbelief.
With this post i hope to have helped you make more complex and realistic societies, as well as provide a few interesting and unusual plot hooks
Lastly, as much as i hate comment begging i must admit i am eager to see what spells other players think can completely change the world. Because at the end of the day we all know that extra d6 damage is not what causes empires to rise and fall, its the utility spells that make the best stories.
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Edit: Added spell level to all spells, and would like to thank u/kaul_field for helping with finishing touches and being overall a great mod.

The Legacy of Man: Empire Rising

First Prev
Saecar, never before in his life, felt bone-shaking nervousness throughout his body. He had just finished up looking over the new recruit roster when his sister, Perna, delivered the news to him.
Sfin, the Lord of the Night, had just arrived and is helping his family with their rampant assassination problem. And the plan is for Saecar to put on an image of being wedded to an unknown, yet highly ambitious, noble named Tarac. Whoever this man is, he's acquired the fealty of both Sfin and Skafin. Two of the Legendary Hero-Gods! Skafin was the only one the Corridor has ever seen and that's mostly due to him periodically organizing expeditions into the Devil's Spine Mountains to regularly cull the ormel barbarians dwelling within the range.
But it was Perna's description of Tarac that was getting to him the most. She had described him as the most handsome man she's ever encountered, nearly falling for him the moment she laid eyes upon him. And being a gray-fur as well. Saecar could never really settle on a concrete opinion on the superstition around gray-furs. There were times where he believed in the good fortune they bring, other times he's just dismissed it. Perhaps this might be the moment where he'll finally decide that he's a believer? Only one way to find out.
Dressed in the finest attire that Perna could get him on short notice, and having gone through what seemed to be an eternity of cleaning and grooming by her attendants, he now stood beside Perna within her mansion's throne room and awaited the arrival of Tarac.
"Have you told him, my lady?" Saecar overheard the whispering of Perna's chief servant.
"He doesn't need to know, at least for now." Perna replied tensely.
"Then I hope that means it's not important, Perna." Saecar spoke, eliciting a slightly surprised reaction from the two.
The servant cast a pleading look to his mistress, who responded with a stern, disapproving expression. After a moment though, she sighed and faced Saecar, "He's poured through some books from the library, since Tarac's name felt familiar to him. He's discovered that Tarac is an obscure, fourth Hero-God, who disappeared before the other three made their marks. It's been thought that he was either a father or a mentor towards the three Hero-Gods."
Saecar felt every strand of fur on his body stiffen in shocked surprise. "Are you sure?"
"As sure as the writers who talked about him." Perna shrugged. "Which isn't much. The Three didn't say much about him. It was all conjecture and theory, relying on off-hand and whimsical comments from the Three, which were rare."
"My lady, Sir Captain!" One of the guards interrupted their conversation. "Just received word! Claimant to the Imperial Throne, Tarac, has just arrived upon the estate."
"Thank you." Perna gave a slight bow, after which the guard returned to his post. Saecar was close to hyperventilating at this point, though not heavily. Perna smelled the anxiety-scent coming from him and gave him a reassuring hug. "Relax and stay calm. Unless you are hoping otherwise, this isn't a real marriage, it's just to draw out the attacker who's ruining our family."
"I...I know, it's just..." Saecar stammered, struggling to calm his breathing. "Wh-...What if I say something obscene? Or insult him accidentally? If I don't watch myself, I might get Tarac's ire, or even the others, I just-"
"Stop." Perna interrupted, putting a finger on his lips. "You'll be fine, Saecar. While I haven't talked with him greatly, I already get the sense he's a good man. He'll know if it was an honest mistake or not. just be yourself, alright?"
Saecar, still struggling with his composure, just nodded and did his best to present himself appropriately.
"Presenting! Claimant to the Imperial Office of Emperor, Tarac!" The second guard boomed across the chamber, bringing attention from Perna and Saecar. As soon as he was done speaking, the grand doors opened, and through them, entered what must be the legionnaires of Skafin's personal legion. Encased in the finest segmentata armor, and their left arm plates painted red in honor of their lord, they marched forth with perfect precision and timing, soon forming a pathway along the carpet. Once the column was formed, they raised their hastapoles and locked them together in the air, forming a roof above them.
And there, Saecar witnessed a sight that struck him deep to his core. It was Tarac, the legendary gray-fur, flanked on each side by both Sfin and Skafin, dressed in great baroque threads befitting that of an emperor. Perna did not lie, if anything, she greatly downplayed him.
As he got closer and closer to them, so too did Saecar's attraction to him rise. He was incredibly handsome. Gorgeous. Whether it was a fluke amongst a plebian family, or an incredibly, carefully, planned line of breeding within an ancient patrician house, there strode in what must be the epitome of everything deemed attractive within a man. And that was all assuming that Tarac was not a mythical figure of legend in ancient times long past, raising and teaching the Three Hero-Gods all they knew.
Saecar's mind froze, his throat dryer than the great Sea of Sand in the far south across the Sevux Sea. His arms, once trembling, are now deathly stiff. Even Perna struggled to maintain her regal and noble appearance, most likely caught off guard by the presentation Tarac put forth.
"Saecar, correct?" Tarac questioned with a smile. While polite to an outsider, to Saecar, that smile was far more. It brought warmth to his heart, soothed his mind.
"Y...Yes, I am." Saecar managed to push out the words with a slight nod.
"Perna spoke highly of you." Tarac said, continuing his smile. "I'm looking forward to knowing more about you."
"I...m-me too, sir." Saecar stammered once more. Tarac gave out a little chuckle, which caused him to realize what exactly he said.
"Everything's ready, ma'am." Sfin said to Perna, his voice low and soft.
"Good." Perna nodded with a sigh. "In that case...let's end this nightmare, once and for all."
Once everybody's attention dwindled to other matters, Tarac got in close with Saecar and then spoke softly, "Hey...I know this is sudden and all, just let me know how you want to do this, we'll go at your pace, alright?"
"U-Uh...okay." Saecar squeaked out, failing to keep himself composed. Tarac's own aura about his body was intoxicating. Saecar never thought that people could lose themselves simply by the sight of another person. The true attraction was in their character, the kind of person they are. But now? He might not be so dismissive about the matter after this. Especially now that everything within his body was screaming, furiously, one simple thing to his mind.
Claim him. He's yours. All yours.
Perna noticed this between the two. Although outwardly, her discreet grin indicated support for this budding attraction, the realist within her is deeply worried what will happen once the mysterious assassin was eliminated and the need for this facade is no more. Will Saecar move on, or will he be stuck forever chasing what he now fully considers the one?
She now wonders if there was a different way to go about this. A way where she didn't accidentally shackle her brother to an unobtainable man.
Western Tütonland.
"Village should be just up ahead." Zerkaria said after checking his map. He and Bynheim have been travelling as fast as their horses could take them, provided by the Kaiser's royal stables.
"Keep your eyes open, lad." Bynheim warned, scanning the area. "We're in the Fortress' region now. We don't know if those daemons are content staying inside the walls or have begun venturing outside."
"If they are, there can't be that many of them, right?" Zerkaria questioned, now looking around cautiously.
"Again, we just don't know." Bynheim sighed. "The bloody bastards came out of nowhere. I'll bet good coin that the Fortress is completely overrun by them. If so, expect sizeable bands roaming around, assuming they're going outside now."
"Then...that would mean all the hamlets and villages nearby are in danger, right?" Zerkaria pointed out. "What'll happen to them?"
"I'll tell you what I know for certain." Bynheim cast a dark expression towards the Tribune. "If we don't get help, all of them will burn and the people inside will have Athul-knows-what done to them. If we ride as fast as we can and get reinforcements, only some of them will be gone."
"Define some, Ser Adelheund." Zerkaria glared at the Hospitalier.
Bynheim sighed deeply and threw up his arms in frustration. "What do you want me to say? There's nothing we can do. If there is such a thing, we don't have magic that will make us go any faster. And then there's the fact that we need to assemble our reinforcements, get them properly enchanted and equipped to fight the daemons, on top of making sure they understand what it is they're fighting...I'm sorry, but there's nothing more we can do to make any of this go any faster. All we can do is just try and keep the damage and deaths as low as we possibly can."
Zerkaria maintained his glare for some time before he sighed and looked to the ground. "Just...it shouldn't have happened. We should've been better."
"Well it did, and we weren't." Bynheim responded simply. "Standing around, cursing our failures won't change anything. What will is us seizing our chance and getting ahead of this situation. Only once we resecure the Fortress and locate our next Grandmaster will we start taking a hard look at what we did and figure out how to make it better."
A brief scream interrupted their conversation. Zerkaria grew fearful while Bynheim hardened himself for battle.
"Who...who's out all the way here?" Zerkaria questioned aloud, voice somewhat shaky. "Trader? Bandits?"
Bynheim seemed to struggle internally on what to do. It was only when the scream arrived again, closer, that he made his decision. "Zerkaria? Stay close, no matter what."
"What happened to riding to Mauseillon as fast as possible?" He asked, though not maliciously.
"That's still the plan." Bynheim responded curtly, already off his horse. "Think of it this way. Whoever it is that's in trouble, we can figure out what's going on around here, which means there's a reasonable chance we won't get any surprises. Being prepared means we won't get slowed down often."
"...alright." Zerkaria said, not happy with the current plan. Once both of them regrouped at the edge of the forest, Bynheim drew out his longsword, the metal along the blade shimmering with magic energy.
Carefully, the two navigated their way through the dense woods, making sure to not step on any twigs or anything that will give away their position. It didn't matter for long, as soon, they began hearing what must be a person rushing through bushes. With a quick motion of his hand, Bynheim ordered Zerkaria to get his head down.
Staying still and hiding amidst foliage, they waited as the sounds of a running person grew closer and closer. And soon, so too did their apparent attacker.
Bursting through a bush, the screamer was revealed to be a wudrak child, most likely from the village up ahead. His clothes were ragged, with patches of blood on his torso. From the uneven ground, the wudrak twisted his foot and crashed hard into the grass, instantly scrambling away.
Not a few moments after, the attacker revealed themselves, silencing Zerkaria to his core and giving Bynheim dreadful fears of the road ahead.
It was a hamel, most likely a peasant, yet far bloodier. But in his eyes, Bynheim saw the danger. The hamel peasant's eyes were a bright, furious orange.
The hamel was possessed. Daemon. Whether willfully or not, it doesn't matter. As soon as the possessed was about to strike down the wudrak, Bynheim charged forth. Outstretching his hand, a beam of pure-white magic erupted from his palm and smashed into the hamel's body. Roaring, the possessed mortal was flung backwards, smacking against the trunk of a tree and flopping down.
The inexperienced would think that alone killed or incapcitated the creature. Bynheim wasn't. As expected, as soon as he readied his strike, the hamel snapped to life and charged at him. Quickly twisting his wrists, his swing turned into a thrust, driving the blade through the eye of the hamel. With a croaking death, the hamel expired quickly, and the foul energy upon his arms swirled onto his body proper and rose into the air. A faint face of the daemon scowled at Bynheim before disappearing.
After confirming that the hamel was truly dead, Bynheim knelt down and recited a prayer over the body. Once that was done, Bynheim returned his sword to scabbard and walked towards the wudrak, with Zerkaria some distance away.
"Are you alright?" Bynheim asked softly, kneeling down beside the child. He didn't answer. Just clutched at his arms and stayed on the ground.
"The heretic's dead, he'll be fine." Zerkaria said simply.
"I doubt that's the case." Bynheim replied dryly, then tenderly placed his hand on the wudrak youngling's shoulder. "You're okay now. I've killed the daemon and its thrall. You're safe."
Still no answer. The wudrak just slowly clutched at his ears, curling his body closer to a ball.
"Seems he's not grateful." Zerkaria scoffed. "C'mon, we've wasted enough time already, let's go."
"Your attitude's changed." Bynheim pointed out in an accusatory manner. "Before, you seemed rather displeased at my supposed willingness to abandon the peasants here. But here? You suddenly think we're wasting time."
"E-everyone..." The child's muttering interrupted them. "...a-all dead..."
"From your village?" Bynheim questioned, keeping his voice soft and compassionate.
"M-Mom...said to hide..." He continued, trembling violently. "I...I hid...and...heard them...saw...the blood...through the wood...around me...what the monsters did to them..."
"It's okay." Bynheim reassured him, delicately rubbing the child's shoulder. "My name is Bynheim. I'm a Hospitalier, people meant to fight monsters. If you stay with me, I'll keep the monsters away from you, alright?"
"I don't know if any of our horses or saddles can accomodate two people." Zerkaria sighed. "Plus, you know, time is of the essence?"
Bynheim shot the most venomous glare to the hamel that he could muster. "He's a child. I'm not abandoning him, especially with what's happened."
With a sigh, Zerkaria gave a resigned shrug. After giving the wudrak child several moments to recollect himself, and with careful guidance, the trio returned to their horses. Bynheim, after returning to the saddle, lifted up the child and seated him in front of the Hospitalier. Once everything and everyone was ready, they hastily returned to their journey. Bynheim made sure to keep an eye out for any ruined villages. As much as he wanted to see if there was something he could do, he doesn't want to torture the child any more, so he chose to actively avoid them.
Ranhys.
"My lord." A Shadowrunner announced, kneeling before the Nightlord. "News from Swebia."
"Speak." Splinter stated, fully encased within the shadows, keeping an eye on the rapidly growing crowd attending the "marriage."
"We've been harassing their efforts, as directed." The agent began. "We've dulled their blades, cracked their spears and turned armor into rust. For good measure, we've also been introducing relatively harmless, yet highly uncomfortable, toxins into the food for both common footmen as well as their lords and officers."
"And this is for the westerners, correct?" Splinter questioned.
"Of course, sir." The agent nodded. "As for the easterners, now calling themselves Tütons, we've been discreetly passing along battle plans as well as revealing traitors within their ranks."
"Good." Splinter commented with a relieved sigh. While harassing the enemy is well and good, it's for nothing if your allies or own forces are having severe issues. By both attacking the Swebians and providing aid to the Tütons, this will maximize the chances of success for those seeking independence from the Swebian crown.
Splinter also remembered the hesitance from Derek regarding the methods of weakening the Swebians. For now, actively killing off scores of drafted peasants isn't necessary, though if that changes, he'll readily give the order.
"As for the new arrivals, we've managed to learn a few things." The agent added. "They call themselves Mongols. And the banner they fly under is the New Mongolian Empire. We're still studying them, but thus far, it would seem much of their strategy revolves around their flying, fire-breathing beasts. We're still waiting for an open-field battle to get a better sense of such strategy however."
"Understood. Did you hear a name for who's leading this invasion?" Splinter nodded as he processed the new information.
"Not yet, but we'll get it." The agent shook his head but gave a confident tone.
"Good. If there's nothing else, you're relieved." Splinter stated. The agent bowed deeper and then entered the shadows, returning to his group. Splinter is not expecting any more reports, so now his full attention can be devoted towards watching the party. Observing the crowds and studying their behavior.
Out of sight, within an empty room of an inn nearby, Splinter changed his appearance. Switching out of his ancient, yet still potent, armor and hood, he put on the standard attendant's attire for patricians. Pulling out a handheld faceglass, a spherical volume of magic-infused glass, Splinter practiced his facial expressions. He then fabricated an entire story of how he entered service with Derek, what had happened to him with the ormel raid on Parnax and how he just found him again.
With a deep breath, Sfin, the Nightlord and Infinite Webweaver of the Empire, became Splinter, dutiful attendant to Derek, Claimant to the Imperial Office of Emperor.
Knowing nothing obeys exactly to plan, he's hidden a few discreet weapons upon his person. The fantastic wrist-mounted bladelauncher that Albert made for him many centuries ago, a length of ironthread, a collection of throwing daggers as well as small vials of medicinal potions and poisons.
Now that everything was ready to go, his hand upon the door, Splinter rapidly changed persona with one breath, putting on a well-practiced smile as he exited. Leaving the building and entering upon the courtyard reserved for the event, Splinter handily strode through the bustling crowd of both patrician and plebian alike. All of whom have come to witness the event. No doubt, as soon as they have heard, they also have come to see if Derek truly did have what it takes to acquire the crown of Emperor.
As expected, Derek and Saecar were seated upon a platform overlooking the main square of the gathering. Derek, thus far, was presenting a standard face of a noble enjoying the party. Splinter can tell he's not used to such an environment, he can detect the tense undertones in his body language and the forced expressions. Scarface was at the front of the platform, imposing and intimidating as expected, with his arms crossed and carefully scanning the crowd. Saecar, on the other hand, while more comfortable as a result of his office, seemed to be focused on Derek.
It would appear that seems to be the effect Derek has on people. Whether it had something to do with his time in the Aether, or incredible luck in being placed in such a body, his words and appearance strikes a chord with people. Despite Derek not taking the time to understand and work with underlying motives of those he speaks to, the pure and raw passion behind his words are enough to move them. And Splinter cannot deny it, Derek was resurrected into a body that contained all the traits and features that were considered attractive.
Saecar's intense attraction needs to be kept an eye on. Love can turn the tamest man into the wildest savage, and it does not necessarily need to be reciprocated.
"Getting by, Derek?" Splinter asked with a warm smile, taking position next to him.
Derek seemed confused for a moment, but the moment he picked up his scent, it turned to surprise. "Splinter? I thought you were-"
"Let them think that." Splinter winked.
"Oh, uh...alright." Derek nodded as he soon got the point. "Well, I won't lie...never really been to a party before. Hell...never even went to a school prom or something like that."
"Oh, I don't think I've seen you before." Saecar said, standing up and approaching Splinter. "Are you one of Tarac's attendants?"
"That is correct." Splinter nodded as he bowed deeply. "My name is Splinter. I've been attending to Tarac for many years. Pardon for the surprise, I've been busy looking around Ranhys, finding the finest food and clothing for Tarac. The clothes he's wearing right now is my handiwork."
Saecar looked to Derek for a moment and then looked back, giving an approving grin. "You've outdone yourself, sir. Tarac looks absolutely marvelous in it."
"Your words honor me, Captain." Splinter bowed again. "I strive to give, and do, only the best for my lord."
"If possible, could I, uh, have a word with you?" Saecar asked nervously after getting closer to the black-fur attendant. "I, uh...I might need a little help, nothing serious or life-threatening."
"I...would rather not abandon my lord, Captain." Splinter responded, glancing to Derek.
"I'll make it quick, promise." Saecar insisted, having moved a couple steps. "Please?"
Derek just gave a wave signalling his permission, though Splinter could tell he was reluctant about it. Sighing, Splinter then followed the black-fur captain some distance away, where he then got close to the attendant.
"So, uh..." Saecar began, fiddling with his fingers as he nervously looked about. "B-Be honest...wh-what are my chances? With Tarac?"
Splinter took a moment to think before he answered, "At the current moment, Tarac's primary focus is on the Emperor's Office. My lord has a dream for the redrak people, and thus far, he's proven to be...determined about it. Realistically speaking, now's not the best time to try and acquire his attention."
"You say that now." Saecar began with a nervous smirk. "But all it takes is just one chance. A...A fine set of words that'll capture his interest...or maybe, a grand display of arms to impress him. All I want is just one chance."
"I..." Splinter hesitated. He doesn't actually know Derek all that well. There hasn't been much time to know each other. Right now, Derek is the Master who raised him, Scarface and Albert together for as long as they could remember. But he doesn't actually know who Derek is as a person, what they like, what they do for fun. "Tarac is...a private person. He doesn't share much. I'm afraid I don't really have the answers you're looking for, good sir."
"Damn." Saecar muttered, glancing over to Derek, then back to Splinter with a confused expression. "Didn't you just say you've attended to him for years? How do you not know him?"
"Like I said, Tarac is a private person." Splinter said with a sigh. "If he felt I'm not worthy of knowing him, then it's not my place to force myself through that barrier."
"But surely you must've picked up on a few things?" Saecar continued. "You must have noticed...I don't know, peculiar or interesting reactions or choice of words? You must've seen hints as to who he is."
Splinter was torn inside. On the one hand, he didn't want to perpetuate needless distractions, both for him and for Derek. Now and long-term. But on the other hand, it's not his place to dictate who Derek can and cannot engage with. He has zero authority to control the gray-fur's decisions on who is allowed and not allowed into his life. In the end, all he can do is support Derek's decisions, and deal with whatever happens, as they happen.
"I...suppose there is a possible thing I can tell you." Splinter sighed before leaning in close. "My lord has...shall I say, discovered who he is recently. Who he...is interested in. It's the reason why he's taking part in this plan the way he is."
"I'd be surprised if it was any different." Saecar shrugged.
"Now, understand this is not anything definitive." Splinter warned. "I'm only saying this because I know you won't let this go, meaning you'll distract me from my duties. So, my best guess? Right now, Tarac will be having...questions about himself. And he's feeling nervous about himself. I think that if you're there for him...help answer his questions, that might be the first step you need in getting his attention."
Saecar looked over to Derek for a few moments. Quickly however, Splinter approached him and brought his face towards practically touching the captain's, "I will warn you, however. Tarac is surrounded by highly capable people loyal to him. If any of us ever hears that you've done something to him, you will pay dearly. Is that clear?"
Saecar was clearly caught off guard by the warning, motionless for a short time before he stammered out his response, "I...I swear to you, I'd rather die than hurt him."
Nodding, Splinter stepped back. "Good. In that case, court him as best you can and see what happens. But let me make this clear as well, if Tarac ends up holding no interest in you, you will not force him otherwise, understand?"
Saecar paused, his fists tensing to the point of shaking for a couple moments, before he relaxed and nodded. "As much as it would hurt...if he says no, I'll accept it. No argument."
"Excellent." Splinter smiled with a nod. "Now, if there's nothing else, let us return, hm?"
Saecar nodded. The two then returned back to the platform that carried Derek and the seat for Saecar, who promptly placed himself in it. Splinter stood next to Derek back at his position, projecting an image of an attendant ready to serve on a moment's notice. But in reality, a protector staying close and watching every possible person and angle for signs of attack.
"Something I should know?" Scarface asked, looking back.
"Nothing important for the time being." Splinter answered. "If you still want to know, ask me later."
"Alright." Scarface shrugged and resumed his watch.
Saecar remained still in his seat, reflecting on the conversation he had with Splinter as well as figuring out what his plan for courting Tarac would be. When he looked to the gray-fur, Saecar saw that he seemed bored, yet also nervous. Maybe uncomfortable? Wanting to reassure him, Saecar gently gripped his hand. When Tarac seemed surprised, he gave a comforting smile. Tarac seemed to be even more nervous, looking around for possible objection. When none came, he grew a little confident and, with a slight smile of his own, also gripped Saecar's hand.
Splinter couldn't help but smile when he saw the confidence in Derek. He's not entirely sure if he'll be happy with Saecar, should they end up pursuing a genuine relationship, but seeing Derek grow is always a happy sight for him.
He noticed odd movement in his peripheral vision. When he looked towards it, his heart froze. Between two buildings in the distance, a shadow of a tree was projected against the wall of one. They were deep within Ranhys itself, so there's no possible way for that to happen, which means...
Wamel. They're here. Why is of no concern for this moment. That can be answered later. Right now, if the wamel are here, anybody could be in danger. His top priority is Derek and Saecar. Splinter needs to figure out how to get them in a safer location without drawing attention.
Saecar may have unintentionally given him that opening. Walking over to Saecar's side opposite of Derek, Splinter knelt down and whispered, "I have an idea. What if I got you a moment of alone time with Tarac?"
Saecar flustered, his arousal-scent rapidly appearing. "I...I-I suppose..."
Splinter then rapidly walked back over to Derek and whispered to him as well, "I can tell you're not enjoying this. Want to leave?"
Discreetly, Derek leaned closer and said softly, "Fuck yeah, get me out of here already."
"Let me warn you, Saecar is intensely attracted to you." Splinter said. "Do you want me to try and keep distance between you two, or no?"
Now Derek too was flustered with surprise and his arousal-scent appeared as well. "R-Really? Like, how intense?"
"I suspect that he's planning on how to court you as we speak." Splinter answered, though impatience was rising within him. "Want me to stop him or no?"
"U-Uh..." Derek wasn't able to get an answer quickly. "N-No...yes! No...I, I don't know!"
"Deal with it when it happens, understood." Splinter stated and then rapidly moved over to Scarface, squatting down only somewhat to reach the towering brown-fur's ear. "Scarface, we've got wamel in the city. Eyes open."
"Wh...are you sure?!" Scarface demanded in surprise.
"Absolutely." Splinter said firmly then left without waiting for another response. Continuing his attendant facade, Splinter bowed as Derek rose from his seat alongside Saecar.
When he turned around, Splinter saw something in his peripheral again. It wasn't the shadow again. No.
It was a wamel. On the roof of a building. And his arrow was nocked and drawn. As soon as he saw the motion of an arrow being fired, he rapidly calculated its trajectory and speed. He then rapidly determined how best to save the two, not knowing which one is the prime target. By pure instinct, Splinter stuck his foot out and tripped Saecar, causing him to stumble forward and crash onto Derek. Both of them landed on the ground, just in time, as the arrow zipped by above Saecar's back and pierced into the platform's floor not a few steps away.
When he turned back around to warn Scarface, the situation already escalated. Bands of wamel, clad in treeskin armor and fur-cloth, descended around the perimeter of the party. Very few people managed to let out screams before wamel magic erupted.
Huge wooden roots burst forth from a burst of green light and cloud, spearing many and crushing others. Those that survived that initial attack were rapidly cut down by dual-wielded blades of their warriors, who already launched their mad dash towards them.
"Scarface!" Splinter shouted, smoothly grabbing and throwing one of his blades at the closest wamel, the surprise of it allowing the blade to puncture through the throat and cause the approaching wamel to crash into the ground.
"Go! I'll keep them busy!" Scarface snarled, spatha already drawn and ready. The Shadowrunners, who had been expecting a far more discreet attempt, burst forth from their hiding places and descended upon the wamel, the initial wave having daggers at the ready while those behind already loosed arrows from their handbows.
"Let's go, move!" Splinter dragged Saecar and Derek up by their arms and pushed them forward. Derek was completely lost, following only by instinct, while Saecar's experience was drawn out, already taking on a protective stance and constantly scanning every window and angle as they moved.
Next Chapter

Ramtidings, dear friends! Where last we parted ways, I had finished working for a friend in Southern California. Before I left to reunite with my hobo crush, my friend had seen me off with some gifts, most notably, a set of RPG dice. After making a wager against a neckbeard on a Greyhound bus that ended poorly for him, I enjoyed the rest of the ride in the lap of luxury. At long last, I had been reunited with my sweetheart, Janet, for a time. After I left, she decided to chase me down. Reunited for a third time, we hit the road together, now with a third, mutual friend in tow by the name of Queenie, a skirt-wearing snaggletoothed hobo with a very haggard voice. I had promised to teach Queenie the joys of tabletop, and even Janet began to express interest in this nerdy passtime as we loitered on freeway onramps, behind gas stations, and under overpasses. Without further introduction, then, we shall dive headlong into this TAAAAAALE FROM THE TABLETOP, lovingly subtitled Are We The Neckbeards?
The magnificent ReddX has narrated our story thus far, and I highly encourage you to go give that boy a like, a sub, and a share. You can find our story at the following link...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-AiJwQA8Dsw
If you're new here, stories about neckbeards are gross. We're probably going to talk about uncomfortable things. You have been warned.
Night had fallen over a truckstop in rural North Dakota. Queenie, Janet, and I had caught a ride in the bed of a pickup truck, and now with the sun down, all bets of traveling further were off. We went and hung around the side of the building and took a seat, becoming a giant pile of bums, backpacks, instruments, and dogs. We spent what pocket change we had on gas station hot dogs and a couple cans of steel reserve, and got comfy for the evening, when Queenie blurted out the words that began it all...
Queenie: I'm bored.
Ah, the doldrums, an inveitable quandary that is bound to strike someone on the road. You can only talk so much about trains, trash, and trouble before you're just beating the same old dead horse. I sympathized with Queenie. I was kind of bored myself. Then I remembered what I had in my backpack. As I dug through my belongings, I cleared my throat and I struck up my best narrative voice. It had certainly been awhile, but I knew I still had it.
GM: Hey, Queenie.
Queenie: Yo.
GM: You wake up naked in a field with a rock. The sun is high in the sky above you, warming your body on this summer day. The grass stands up to your waist, and you hear all around you the quiet, soothing sounds of nature - the wind rustling the grass, birds chirping, the buzzing of insects. To your west you see a sprawling forest, and behind you stands a tall range of rocky mountains. A road, its pavement long since broken and cracked, runs from north to south, and your vision of it is lost behind the treeline. What do you do?
Queenie: What the fuck are you on about dude?
GM: Just humor me, man. What do you do?
I repeated the scenario while queenie contemplated his options once more. He didn't realize I had suckered him into his first tabletop experience, minus the books or table of course. I did, however, recover my dice from the depths of my backpack, and dumped them out on to the concrete in front of me. Queenie responded to my interrogations with a question of his own before he proceeded on his course of action.
Queenie: What kind of rock do I have?
GM: Well, what kind of rock do you want?
He thought about this long and hard.
Queenie: ...I want a big rock of crack!
He enthusiastically shouted this, and a worker taking out the trash gave us a worried look. He probably thought we were dealing drugs behind the gas station. Jesus Christ, Queenie... alright, your wish is my command. Crack you shall have! I told him that he held a giant powdery rock of crack cocaine in his hand, easily the size of his fist.
Queenie: I boof it.
Boofing is when you stick stuff, specifically drugs, in your butt. I've heard it rumored to be the province of alcoholics that get so sick in the morning that they can't physically stomach booze. I do not know the veracity of this. Now, boofing might mostly be a meme and a funny word, or so I thought, until I saw 14, FOURTEEN, people in a row drink beer with their asses one New Year's eve in the desert with my own eyes, but that is a story for another day that I lovingly call Fetch The Apparatus! Back to the act of boofing itself, you can boof powder drugs, alcohol, and LSD, and allegedly, they get you way higher when you do them this way. Some things, however, like some mushrooms or a nug of weed, probably aren't going to do anything. Also, it was common knowledge that, if you boof it, it's free. However, due to recent economic hardships and an unexpected increase in the bum supply, boofing now only nets you a 50% discount. Life's hard like that.
Queenie was adamant about sticking crack cocaine in his ass.
GM: The whole thing?
Queenie: Duh.
I shook my head, took a sip of my beer, and continued the scene. It was his first tabletop afterall, it was funny as hell to my drunk self, and we're all weirdos out here in our own right. At least he's not trying to make me narrate a sex scene with him. Queenie turned over the massive, fist sized crack rock in his hand, before reaching around to his butt, and began to work it in. I held out the dice to give to him. At first he was confused, and then I told him to roll it and tell me the result. Ahhhhh, he's learning! The dice clattered upon the concrete and we leaned in to see what number came up, and he told me with an inquisitve tone, that he rolled high. Something like an 18. He asked me what it meant. I replied that Queenie's asshole was as wide as the open field in which he stood, and it greedily devoured the fist sized crack rock that he had inserted with minimal pain or discomfort.
With a giant rock of crack cocaine dissolving in his pooper, Queenie decided then that it would be a good time to take a nap in the field until there was enough in his blood system for him to enjoy the effects. He laid down in the grass and closed his eyes. I had him roll again, and he rolled very low this time. He didn't even get to fall asleep before he found himself strung out on crack cocaine, started looking for shiny objects in the dirt, and then suffered fatal cardiac arrest. As he lay on the grass, clutching his chest, wondering why this had to happen to him, the world faded to black and he died. Another valuable lesson had been learned. High roll good, low roll bad.
Queenie: That's it? I just die?
GM: You die. The world fades to black as you take your last breaths. You wake up naked in a field with a rock, with a gasp, as if you've just come up from deep underwater. You feel as if you've just come out of a bad dream from having a crack overdose. You turn over the crack rock in your hand before struggling to your feet and surveying your surroundings once more. They seem very familiar to you.
I described the same scenery as earlier that lay before him.
For those of you that haven't figured out just what we were playing, I invite you to explore the videogame known as Rust, back when it was in testing. The premise of the game is that you, well, wake up naked in a field with a rock, and then have to go about the tasks of surviving, building shelter, feeding yourself, and eventually, protecting yourself from others. It was a grind, and all your progress could be snatched from your claws after one bad firefight or simply being asleep at the wrong time. It was a good time however, and without any rulebooks and just my imgination, it seemed simple and intuitive enough to condense into an impromptu tabletop game - it was a modern day feel that was very, very barebones. Oh... and everything's made out of chicken breast. That pig? You betcha. A deer? Sure! A bear? More chicken breast.
Queenie was absolutely fascinated by this revelation that he could not actually die. After boofing his crack rock and dying several more times, he decided that the novelty and humor of this action had worn off, and instead, decided to do something else. He wandered off into the woods. Janet was enraptured as well... this was something new to both of them. Gamified communal story telling with dice? Do people really? They do.
It was getting late, I was getting drunk, and I was tired of narrating all the different ways in which a man could die from stimulant induced heart attacks. I packed up my dice, stood up, slung my backpack upon my shoulders, and wandered out to an empty field. The others joined me, and we struck camp for the night.
The next day, I woke up naked in a field next to Janet. I got dressed, packed my things, and stood up. We went to the truck stop again, and looked for a ride out. To kill the dull hours, I kept the game going. However, Janet was interested if maybe we could do something different than rocks and naked people in fields. I obliged her, and decided to go for a fantasy bent that I figured would be more appealing to her sensibilities, leaving the initial introductory setting in the dust. We began an impromptu fantasy roleplay with m'lord and m'lady, Queenie and Janet. You can imagine, I'm sure, that people must have thought we had lost our minds as I talked about how they had found themselves now inside, guess what, a tavern and the town gaurd told stories of roving orc warbands attacking the outlying countryside, and my companions played right along, going so far as to even talk in exaggerated character voices as we sat under the awning of a Pilot travel stop.
Tabletop is not a spectator sport. Still doing it.
Queenie was gung ho to slay some orcs. Janet, however, wanted to procure some new, gleaming steel before her journey. She sought out the local blacksmith, much to Queenie's dismay, as he insisted that they could just loot bodies for new goodies. That wasn't good enough - she wanted something special, and so she followed the sound of a banging hammer through the town market until she found the blacksmith, a massive giant of a man, beating away on a hot piece of iron atop an anvil. As she approached, he addressed her with a grunt.
Janet: Hi there, I'd like to purchase some weapons.
Blacksmith: K.
He dismissively waved his hand to the back of the shop where racks of glistening steel glimmered by the firelight of the forge, and then returned to mercilessly beating upon the hot iron on the anvil. Janet looked over the wares, somewhat disinterested, and then spoke up again.
Janet: I mean, that's really nice and all, but doesn't a big boy like you have anything more appropriate for a dainty girl like me? Teehee.
I'm denser than a 10 IQ blacksmith savant sometimes.
Blacksmith: Dagger. 10 gold.
Janet: Oh, I see... it just slides in the sheathe like that... can you, uh, show me how to polish this thing?
Damnit, Janet.
Queenie was picking up what she was putting down, and without missing a beat, he told us to go get a fucking bush. He sounded a little spiteful when he said it. He was probably still hurting from his breakup with Sarah, and I wasn't trying to rub his nose in the current euphoric nature of my existence, so I motioned to Janet to follow me and give him some space. I felt bad about it for a bit, but Janet wasn't about to let it dampen her mood. We went off somewhere alone and left him to his thoughts, hopped on the good foot and did the nasty, and laid there for an hour or two, letting the time pass. Eventually, we got dressed, packed up, and returned to the travel plaza. Queenie still sat there by the awning. I asked him how he was holding up.
Queenie: I dunno, man... I just miss Sarah a lot. And I know I've been running with you guys for a few days now, but I don't think I can keep hanging around like a third wheel, especially since you guys are all fucking cute with each other and all that shit. I think I'm gonna turn around, and see if she won't take me back.
No hard feelings here, my brother. Go get your woman. We divided up the bank we had and gave him his share, and I bought him a beer for the road from my own portion. (Somebody usually plays bank and manages all the funds for the group. It's a common courtesy that if friends are to part ways, the bank is divided. This is not always observed, depending upon 1 - who is banking, and 2 - how they feel about the other person. I however, thought, and still think highly of Queenie.) He stood up, grabbed his things, and walked away from the truck stop to the onramp going back east. Janet and I would continue along on our own due west.
The day was getting late, so we decided to hit it again in the morning, and retired to the bush. When the sun rose the next day, we wasted no time, getting to the highway ramp, and caught a lift all the way through from someone going on a long haul to Montana. Somewhere in Billings, we posted up for a bit while we calculated our next move. We were just flying blind at this point, for no reason due west. I figured I would reach out to my boy back in California and see if, well, maybe he had some more work for me. I knew it was way early, and there probably wasn't much going on, but he had a good amount of property, trusted my judgement, and if he had something to do, we could make money. Regrettably, there was nothing going on out there, so we just kind of shrugged our shoulders and sat in place. WIthout Queenie, I didn't really bust out the dice, either, because, well, trying to play an RPG with 2 people just isn't that fun. Janet didn't seem to mind too much. I think she was just using it as leverage to ERP. which, coming from her, didn't bother me at all and I was totally willing to oblige, but, well, I'm not going to whip out dice for that. Instead we spent our time hustling bucks on the street. She played a fiddle, I had a guitar, and we could turn a healthy few bucks between us because we were both competent. Seemingly stuck, with the wind taken out of our sails, we sat tight and made money.
I've never liked reversing my direction. I refuse to do it. I don't know why. Maybe it's a superstition, but after I've started going one way, I won't just turn around. If I'm going East, I'm not going to turn around and start going West. I may turn North or South, but I won't just say, you know what, let's do a 180. It was almost 5 days of living in Billings before the winds of travel decided to blow at our back again. Sick of the town, we said fuck this, climbed aboard the back of a freighter, and got pulled off by a cop maybe 20 miles later at some little town in the middle of nowhere. At first we cursed our luck, but it seemed it was a blessing in disguise. We trudged to the freeway and sat down, and within minutes, a bright yellow cargo van pulled over. Behind it came a battered and busted RV. Could it be?
Hippies. A whole fucking caravan of hippies heading the direction we were trying to go.
I'm not very fond of hippies at all. Rainbow family, grateful dead family, non-affiliated... Doesn't matter. I hate patchouli and if somebody unironically calls me brother bear I get a tension headache and hearing the Grateful Dead gives me an aneurysm. Drum circles always play the same shitty song, crystals won't heal you, and windchimes cause cancer. Conflict and struggle is the truth of the world and peace is a pipe dream. Natural selection, baby. Nevermind that I've had things stolen from me by hippies. Nevermind that somebody who tells you that they love you like you're their family within moments of meeting you is probably trying to extort you for something. Nevermind that every crusty worth his weight in ramen packets knows that a traveling caravan of hippies makes the locals overwhelmingly hostile to the next vagabond that comes through. I could go on. I generally despise hippies.
Are some hippies alright? Some, yes. Was I willing to chance it with these people? We were in smalltown bumfuck Montana and the sheriff already hated our faces just for existing there. I swallowed my pride, and scanned the crowd for familiar faces, of which I saw none. Still, they were willing to give us a ride. They were headed all the way to Oregon. Apparently, there was a gathering going on.
What's a gathering? Exactly what it sounds like. It's a gathering of hippies. I had found myself at one a few years before this. It was known as Black Sheep. It was basically hobo christmas in the middle of the desert for everyone who had nowhere to go, and it was a very small, intimate experience. It was kind of cool because it was tiny in its scope, and I met some genuinely cool people there. Black Sheep is not "officially recognized" by the greater hippie community that does these gatherings, however, for who knows what reason. Maybe it's because people drink there and nobody gives them grief for it, while at any other gathering, you can smoke all the pot and eat fucktons of acid, but god forbid you open a beer. They get pissy about alcohol. It's weird, I know.
Well, like I said, these hippies were on their way to a gathering known as Nationals. This is the big one. This is ground zero for hippies. You can't throw a stone in the woods without hitting some drug addled free spirit shaman with hella heady tradeables who recognizes your spirit and is loving you, sister squirrel. They asked us if maybe we wanted to come with them.
We definitely wanted the ride. The sheriff made it entirely apparent we'd be going to jail if he caught us around the next day, and Janet had a dog with her. We needed to leave. We took that ride, and got a spot in the RV with the rest of the crew. These hippies, thankfully, were not the most insufferable ones that I have met. They were comparatively normal, to our good fortune, and we actually got along rather swimmingly with them. Then they asked the same question an hour or two in to the ride: do you guys want to come to Nationals?
Janet and I looked at each other, and contemplated what the Hell we ought to do. We had nothing going on anywhere else in the world, these people weren't the most awful people in the world - we would probably camp with them, and who doesn't like a week or two in the national forest? Why the fuck not? It's not like either of us would come to regret this decision, right? Let's fucking go to nationals I guess.
We enjoyed the ride, helping them to get gas and food and all that good stuff, and as the ride dragged on, I once again, busted out the RPG dice. I turned to the nearest hippie, and with a smile, told him, you wake up naked in a field with a rock. What do you do?
I would like to thank my wonderful patrons for their support as I not only compile these tales for you, but write my RPG, Blood & Thunder. Special thanks to TatoFerret and Sillibits, and all due respect to the man himself, ReddX, for reading these stories. Thank you for helping me to live the dream.
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Chronicles of Groggnark the barbarian
He was just a class-less, un-educated barbarian, the very lowest of the low on societies totem pole, but here he was having a royal feast fit for a king, with the finest maidens surrounding him (some were surely not maidens, but the barbarian did not seem to mind).
One especially attractive blonde was sitting in the lap of the barbarian feeling his rock-hard erection pressed at her bottom while her best friend, an equally attractive dark-haired women with tits the size of melons almost spilling out of her dress, both were clamoring for the large armed barbarians attention.
Patrik a young noble man rushes inside followed by his entourage of hired swords men, five of them in total.
Groggnark bat his blue eye for only one second, calculating the odds in only a nano-second, like his father the acclaimed general in king conans army thought him as a wee child.
Five soft landers only. Against one barbarian, they would have no chance even for a younger and less skilled barbarian, and no barbarian were of higher skill than groggnark, only a few were foolish enough to be of equal skill. He so wished to settle that argument ones and for all, with sword play and blood spilling of course!
That was the best way for barbarians to settle an argument, the only way the soft landers would say.
Arguments with words are easy to refute, arguments with steels are harder to refute his father had often told him.
-You slept with my wife to be! She would remain untouched until are wedding. The noble man was fuming with anger.
-She would no such thing, and which one of them were your wife to be any way? I slept with quite a few women unlike you I suspect Tanisha, Patricia, Melania, Josefina, Angelina are few of my latest conquests.
- Tanisha my wife to be! And what is this talk of Patricia my sister! And Melania… my mother! Surely you lie, you half beast, primitive ape of a man.
-Surely, I do no such thing. And a mother and her daughter at the same time… you soft landers are weird and kinky. Groggnark retorted.
-My mother and sister at the same time! That’s its men slay this barbarian for me!
-The barbarian arose with quickness brushing the young girl from his lap, throwing his glass of beer into the face of Patrik, and then kicking him far away with a strong kick from his well-muscled leg. He grabbed the sword from his back with his cat like agility and with his ultra-fast reflexes, he did a 360 spin with his enormous sword in the middle of his opponents turning this barbarian from a man into a deadly tornado, spilling blood and guts from the four hired swords, now cut in half.
The battle was over before it started. Just like his father taught him. Attack fast and do not give the enemy a chance to retaliate.
Groggnark gave the fallen noble man three kicks to his ribs, fracturing three of them. Patrik screamed in pain.
-I curse you barbarian and pray that our ways never cross again! I will have revenge for this, revenge for my wife, revenge for my sister and most of all revenge for my mother.
-Maybe one day but not today. The barbarian knocked his opponent out with a single punch.
Groggnark and the cult of Dagon
He was riding on a whit albino horse with burning red eyes, both the horse’s mane color and its eye colors stood out in the dark knight.
Groggnark was wearing just a loin cloth covering up the most valuable parts of his body, a golden-haired beauty was sitting behind him on the back end of his horse.
The travelling barbarian and his small entourage came across a dark-skinned man riding on top of an equally dark horse. A stygian be the look of the man.
Barbarians and stygians were not the best of friends, some stygians worshipped giant snakes giant, and there was a few things Groggnark despised in life: Magic, Demons ,Snakes and Noblemen.
Perhaps noblemen most of all… but still he HATED snakes. But Groggnark was not a man that judged people by the color of their skin, he was much more clever than that, his father the great general had taught him better.
The stygian was carrying a small crossbow but yet he had fired no bolts at the barbarian, Groggnark deemed the man to be friendly. No threat. But he was hurt, blood was flowing from a small stab wound between the dark strangers’ ribs.
- Greetings fellow stranger, I am Groggnark the barbarian, I come in peace, I will pose no threat to you unless you pose a threat to me, such are the ways of travelling barbarians such as myself.
-You speak truth barbarian, and Groggnark! The famous swordsman, you fucked the wife of the nobleman Patrik in the golden city did you not? That really pissed him of.
-Not as much as me fucking both his mother and sister at the same time. But yes, it did make him mad. He has sent men after me many times, and I have sent the same men back in coffins, sometimes missing arms, legs and head.
- And I am Susannah a nurse formerly living in the silver city, now I am a travelling lover and companion to this vagabond barbarian adventurer.
- Let me looks at that cut and attempt to heal it!
The young woman ripped apart her dress to use it to compress the wound, she was now wearing only a bra on her top and a short skirt, but she was not afraid to show of her amazing tits, in truth the cleavage of the low-cut dress had shown of most of them anyway. She was not only sexy but also intelligent and a skillful nurse and now she put her medicinal skills to use.
- A nurse must be a useful travelling companion for a barbarian such as you, your body is covered in different cut and bruises from many battles I can see. Thanks for compressing my wound, my name is Ranto I am a travelling merchant. The stygian introduced himself.
-We are well met on this dark night Ranto, tell me how you got that cut and from which enemies you are fleeing?
-I was travelling to the bronze city, when the shadow men slayed my whole entourage except for me, but my wife, daughter and even my little boy of only five years old… GONE! All of them gone. Curse the shadow men to hell. The man began crying and understandably so.
Sussanah hugged him and attempted to put the man at ease. It seemed to be working.
-Shadow men! I would defeat any living man for you Ranto, even though we just me a consider you friend and feel empathy for you friend this I promise to you. But I am sad to say the un-dead, demons, magic and shadow men such things frighten even a battle hardened barbarian such as myself.
-You speak truth again barbarian, groggnark I consider you to a friend, and I suspect your kind of friendship could provide most useful for me, yes I am in dire need of a good swordsman, I am a some what skilled with a crossbow but not so much use in close combat. The girl can be a useful companion to I bet. Come! Come with me to the bronze city. I escaped with enough gold to pay for us to be shielded by the city walls and guards men.
-Then we will make haste to this city! I am not one to met shadow men in the middle of the night. The barbarian spoke truth.
After a long night of horse riding the arrived at the bronze city gate in the morning. But alas it proved that Ranto did in fact NOT have gold for the three of them only the two. He paid for himself and Groggnark, thinking the barbarian more useful than the girl.
-The girl is pretty, to pretty to die outside like these filthy peasants. A big bold headed guardsman pointed with all of his hand at a gathering of poor refuges, all clamoring for the city rulers mercy to get in, unfortunately he was not an empathic man and neither was his guardsmen, so there was no mercy to be given.
Groggnark quickly thought for a second he would have the ugly man’s bold head for such a claim. He could easily take the man in combat, but not all of the guardsmen.
-Warm this man’s bed for the night or die outside in the cold with these unfortunate souls. The choice seems easy for a barbarian such as I, but it is your choice to make not mine.
With tears in her pretty green eyes the golden haired girl agreed. It was better to fight this orc of a man in bed for a single night, than endlessly fighting orcs outside of the city walls each and every night until a must painful death would surely fall on her.
Inside the bronze city, shielded by the great bronze walls and guards wearing bronze armor outside they found refugee at a whore house, a barbarian’s favorite type of refugee.
Ranto had run out of gold, but had some silver to spare Groggnark picked out the two most beautiful girls in the brothel but the stygian did not seem interested, the barbarian did not mind and began to enjoy the two girls in front of his new found friend. The whore house pimp let Ranto pick on of the boys instead and he did. Groggnark had suspected such a thing, the stygian being bisexual but he was not one to judge and he did not care.
The stygian had proved useful by paying for the night after all.
After the enjoyment of the flesh, the stygian and the barbarian were both worn out and began to tell tales.
Ranto had shown Groggnark a big crystal ball called the fisheye, and told him this was his mission to the city he would met with another merchant that had promised, gold, silver, armor and weapons all for the prize of the crystal ball.
Groggnark did not see why this so-called fisheye was worth such a hefty price, but he did not care if he got the armor Ranto had promised him.
-When the dragon king came to Aqualonia he promised that if he were to take the country, he would burn it to the ground and all of our women would be raped, our children eaten by the dragon and all barbarians being made into slaves or skinned alive.
-How did the barbarians respond to such a threat? The stygian asked the barbarian.
-With one word only… “if”
The fish eye
Next day Groggnark reunited with Susannah and she said hello to him with a slap to the barbarians scarred cheek, he was not surprised at all by this greeting, he had dealt with womenfolk before and felt he somewhat deserved it.
He in return grabbed her blonde hair and kissed her, their tongues wrestled inside their mouths for a while, long enough to calm the young woman’s rage. Hell, hath no fury like a woman scorn, this Groggnark knew to be truth but she appeared to no longer be scorn, at least for the moment.
-If you two lovebirds are done with your cuddling, I have business with a sea folk merchant from Inssmouth.
Inssmouth-folk did not have the best reputation, it was said that they were murderers, thieves, and rapists. There were even outlandish claims of them worshipping fish gods, and tentacled gods form the deep. Groggnark was skeptical to the later claims but the first few were bad enough and he knew them to be truthful.
-I will be ready with my long sword. It was a giant of a blade, almost to big to be called a sword, legend said it was made of dragon bones, and it was sharper than any man-made steel, the dwarves were skilled craftsmen in Scandinavia living near the Vikings and the elves. A master dwarf blacksmith had once made the blade for Grog-nark’s father as a favor for him helping his people.
But that was long ago! Barbarians cared were little for the past or the future, only living in the now. Ranto, Susannah and Groggnark all gathered the three of them to meet with the merchant from cursed Inssmouth, a inbreed looking fella. He had skin paler than milk, most of his yellow and brownish teeth missing, both his ears and nose appeared to small, not a single strand of hair on his egg-shaped head, nor were there any hair on his arms, and the man’s eyebrows were completely missing.
This hideous creature of a man introduced himself as Jimmie, Jimmie was on of the top three ugliest men Groggnark had EVER seen. And he had seen plenty of ape-like, orcish, pig faced and troll-ish men… even some women!
Ranto was about to hand the fishlike man called Jimmie, the crystal he was promised… when an EYE appeared in the middle of the crystal ball. A yellowish, fishlike eye hideous and watching the humans in the room.
Susannah wearing a black dress that the ugly guardsman had given her after she spent the night with him, was now screaming at the top of her lungs at the eldritch sight of the cyclopean eye in the crystal ball.
-Calm yourself woman! The barbarian commanded the nurse.
-We have given, you the armor, weapons, gold and silver all for the eye, your barbarian looks strong Ranto, but I have ten men with me we would easily kill you all in a battle, which would be short and bloody, surely you understand this? Jimmie asked Ranto the dark-skinned merchant.
-Surely, I do, and my barbarian will stand down but there is something fishy about that eye if you pardon the obvious pun.
-Well, if you and your companions stay out of Inssmouth we are on peaceful terms fellow merchant. Jimmie and his hideous entourage of inbreed fishlike men took leave.
-Okay Groggnark, I think the armors they left us are all to small for a man of your stature. I will have a dwarf smith I know in this city make proper adjustment so one of them will fit you me and the girl will choose one each and the rest I will try to sell. Choose any weapons you like.
We well eat and sleep and when your armor is ready, we will leave for cursed Inssmouth.
Going to Inssmouth
After a few days of waiting that Groggnark mostly spent eating, drinking, fucking and playing cards, losing all of his gold. His armor was finally completed to fit such a big man as the barbarian.
The three companions Susannah the nurse, Ranto the merchant and Groggnark the barbarian all got armors fitting their size and matching shields. Barbarians usually did not use neither shields nor armor but Groggnark was thinking they both could provide useful where they were going… to cursed Inssmouth such a dreadful city filled with inbreed half fish half man beings and cultist worshipping the fish god Dagon our so the stories told at least.
Ulfric was the master dwarf black smith living in this town he had a dimwitted, mute but kind spirited half giant working with him. The giant boy was called Richard and he provided security for the dwarf and managed to do heavy lifting the dwarf could not manage by himself.
Ulfric’s keep was filled with pelts made of werewolf fur, vampire teeth, wendigo antlers, heads cut of from small red headed goblins and giant skulls from big and ugly trolls with big noses. Around his neck the dwarf had a most peculiar necklace, it looked like an eye.
-Is that… Susannah asked.
-Yes, girl it is a basilisk eye, when I activate my magic incantation the eye will open and any enemies it sees will turn to stone. We dwarfs are skilled blacksmiths but not as skilled axe men, most of us anyway. I need such trickery to compensate for my small stature. Spend the night with me and I will show you how the magic works.
-She will do no such thing! She is MY woman and will spend no time with no other man ever again. By Chrom I say so!
-You swear by your barbarian god now, but earlier you were quick to give me away to that pig faced guardsman.
-No, woman I was not quick to do so, I simply had no other choice, I can take a few guardsmen surely, and with ease, but not ALL of them, surely, they city has hundreds of them? And would you rather spend your night with that pig faced man or the shadow demons outside. Surely you heard the dying screams of men, women, and children all through the night?
- I sure did, each night, the big man controlling the city shows no empathy or pity for the suffering poor people sadly. I help as many as I can but there is simply not enough gold or meat, I can spare on them. The dwarf informed them.
-Well let’s go to the dueling grounds in the arena, I heard there is a big tournament going on in the coliseum here, perhaps I may even meet this “big man” of the bronze city and inform him of my opinion on him and his ruling.
The gladiator games
Ranto had sold of most of the weapons, shields and armors the group did not have use for, he had enough gold to pay for good seats at the gladiator games, and even enough to spare for the starving civilians outside the city gate.
Now he only had some silver left, Susannah had earned a few gold coins by caring for the wounded, and Groggnark had lost all his on gambling… such were they ways of most travelling barbarians. But he had armor, sword, shield, a silver dagger Ranto had gifted him and a woman and a horse and he considered that all he needed.
The three rulers of the three free cities were sitting on the opposing side of Groggnark´s entourage watching the games, a gladiator had gotten his left arm cut off by the elbow and now tried to shield himself with left arm holding a shield. It worked for a while… then he got his left arm cut off to.
He begged for mercy from the big man of the city or so they called him, in reality he was small and sickly, a grown man looking liked a pale skinned boy, with no facial hair and no longer than a dwarf in length.
The big man raised his hand with his thumb up…
Letting the armless gladiator have some hope.
The other swordsman left the arena victorious.
And then the big man turned his hand upside down,
Dooming the wounded gladiator. The gates were opened and in came a pack of hungry lions, mauling the unfortunate man to death. Groggnark could hear the mans dying scream all the way up to his elevated position.
Next a poor, starving family came before the three men.
The big man of the bronze city, the fat egg shaped man of the silver city, and the leader of the golden city a pale and skinny man looking almost like a vampire… but this was daytime and in pure sunlight.
There was an old farmer in raggedy clothes, the father of the family, his wife with her face wrinkled from worrying to much, the older daughter a beauty of about sixteen maybe seventeen and the younger daughter of maybe five.
The man begged the big man for mercy, he told of his livestock pigs, horses and cows all falling sick or being eaten by predators. He spoke of his land where nothing would no longer grow in the ground that was once fertile.
He looked into the blue eyes of the big man of the bronze city for mercy. But Groggnark saw that none could be found, the big man was not a merciful man.
In the background Groggnark could see two large ball shaped buildings and a tall bronze tower reaching from the ground, the barbarian thought that the man might be compensating for something.
-I will solve this problem for you! The big man proclaimed. He gestures with his hand to the largest of his men clad in a giant bronze armor. The man walked to the farmer and held the man’s head in his palm… he closed it into a mighty fist and crushed the farmers head at the same time, his brains and blood from the head spilling out. The two daughters were crying now, and the woman rushed clawing at the giant man with her fingernails, but it was no use… his thick bronze armor protected him.
- This woman is to old for my likening, feed her to the lions, the little one is to young for my liking but perhaps we can sell her to some devil worshipping cult as a sacrifice to their deity, the older girl is just my taste and I will keep her in my harem at the top of the bronze tower, I keep all my girls well fed and well clothed, even give them perfumes so they can smell good. Such the matter of starvation has been solved.
The rulers of the silver and gold cities both nodded in agreement. Groggnark however did NOT agree, to this treatment.
-I will battle any one of your gladiators, in the arena if I win you must let this family go.
-I think not, the giant said and laughed as he threw the poor woman to the lions, they were still hungry after feasting on the gladiator from earlier.
-As you see, there is no longer a family for you to bet on barbarian! The older girl is MINE, I might let you have the younger one, but what have you to put up for her life, if you lose you are surely penniless after all your reckless gambling, word get around you know?
-Well word might get around, but so those a barbarian and so does his sword, if you can see with your weak and sickly eyes this a fine blade made out of dragon bone, surely its worth the life of two peasant’s girls? Groggnark proposed to the big man.
-The blade of the dragon! It can’t be! But yet… I say it is only worth the life of ONE girl, the small one, IF it is even real, if it is not the lions will eat you to. The big man spoke recklessly to the barbarian.
- I accept your offer, and I will fight any man you chose. Groggnark spoke boldly.
-This might not be wise my love, Susannah grabbed his arm… surely you can beat any man, but that is a giant and no man. Amrak the leader of the bronze cities’ army.
-I must do the right thing, I will fight this man even if he is a giant. The girl’s life must be saved at any cost! Barbarians of Aqualonia should always fend for those who cannot fend for themselves so spoke king Conan and we follow his creed.
-So be it! After the lions are done feasting on the mother, I will challenge you to a duel for the girl’s life.