- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- One post per day
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Female
The great city of Val Royeaux lay on the northern coast of the Waking Sea, the center of the Orlesian Empire and the beating heart of the Chantry, a religion that spanned the known world. From the White Spire, the Templar Order directed a nation-wide watch on Mages. And the University of Orlais rested in the grace of the Empress, Celene, who had greatly expanded its resources and prestige in the 10 years since she's sat the throne of Orlais.
And Val Royeaux was also a city besieged.
Months ago, the first visitors from other realities emerged in Thedas. Three banded together in Orlais and founded the Chevaliers du Ciel, tasked with addressing those from other worlds, particularly the rising threat posed by untold thousands of Nazi soldiers currently occupying the Dales in the south of Orlais. As you were not one of the invaders, instead you found yourself attached to this organization, which offered provisions, funding, even armaments at the cost of a (loose) chain of command.
Originally, each of you found your way to Orlais somehow, one moment elsewhere and the next...here. Each of you encountered the people of Orlais and, one way or another, found yourselves meeting the original Trois du Ciel. As you find yourself meeting them again today.
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Chapter 1, Mission 4a: The Chevaliers du Ciel
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The Chevaliers du Ciel have been called back to Val Royeaux to their headquarters, the Manoir d'Abadie which rested in the noble northern quarter of the city. Upon arrival, you were met by Orlesian servants tasked with meeting the needs of the Chevaliers du Ciel (or the Cell as members used among themselves). These servants provided an escort to one of the Manoir's more comfortable rooms, a parlor. Presumably, this had been a room for gentlemen to pass the time drinking and smoking. Now it served for conferences and discussions...along with drinking and smoking for those so inclined.
Standing by a window was Jean-Luc Picard. The retired Admiral was the public 'face' of the Trois du Ciel, as well as the Chevaliers du Ciel. In his way, Picard was the slowest to speak as well but he had a commanding voice, a palpable charismatic force when he entered a room, to which even Orlais' nobility responded. He'd been ennobled in the last month by the Empress Celene for his efforts in planning the Orlesian/Nazi war theater at a strategic and tactical level. It was his counsel and contributions that originally won the Cell the right of use to the Manoir d'Abadie, and it was widely opinioned that the heirless property would be outright deeded to him now that he was Lord Picard.
He gave a short nod of acknowledgement as each member of the Cell filed in, flashing an occasional smile or giving a warm greeting to a few of like sensibility. There was no question the Admiral both knew war very well and was particularly well read in the history of the enemy. But he didn't love either. Jean-Luc Picard was a peacemaker at heart and while he respected the abilities and accomplishments of all in the Cell, he was at his most personable with those who favored his kind of moral restraint.
"We'll get started once everyone's here," he said, in a low voice that wavered slightly from age but not from a lack of conviction. "We have...we have important news to share, that affects us all."
Once the Cell had assembled, Picard nodded as he surveyed those present. Then he spoke. "You've been recalled from the front because our intelligence suggests the Nazis are planning a direct attack on Val Royeaux itself. We've faced them before, most of you have, but an attack on the capital will, must, come over the Waking Sea. That could mean boats. It certainly means airplanes, a great many, possibly the whole of their reserve." He stepped away from the bar, hands clasped behind his back as he slowly paced through the room. "I expect, even in those numbers, they lack the strength to take Val Royeaux. But an attack on the heartland will, unfortunately, carry powerful political repercussions. Ms. Tano, if you please?"
Standing on the other side of the bar, and still standing there, was the Chevalier Cramoisi, as the locals knew her. Ahsoka Tano had quickly won the admiration of Orlesian society with her exotic looks, genteel manner and her legendary prowess with a pair of white lightsabers. Where Picard was the heart of the Cell, Ahsoka had frequently been its voice...and its eyes. Despite those exotic looks, she was remarkably good at passing unseen and had gathered a considerable amount of covert intelligence to be discussed and acted on by the people in this room. Several of you may have even partnered with her for a mission or two, and seen first hand her friendly, reserved presence as well as the fierce decisiveness she was capable of.
"Many of you know the Empress Celene has been on the throne for ten years," Ahsoka said. "What you may not know is that Orlesian succession is complicated at the best of times. In her case, the prior Emperor died without a direct heir of the body, resulting in an internal conflict that cost a number of lives. She won." The redskinned Torguta woman spoke with a quiet intensity that belied the reflexive discipline that usually cooled her tone. "And her chief rival, the loser, was the Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons. You might know him as the Field Marshal for the Orlesian Army. The very man who has become the chief critic of the Cell. A man I believe is at risk for acting against his oaths to a throne he might seize for his own."
Ahsoka Tano's gaze dropped to consider the ground for a moment as she gathered her words. "I've done what I could to keep the relationship between the Empress and her Field Marshal as friendly as possible. It's worked so far. But fresh pressure could fracture a relationship that's had ten years of resentment feeding it. Anger is a pathway to dark choices. The people of Orlais will be the real victims if a successful attack on Val Royeaux happens, because they will be the front lines and because their rulers will set them against each other in their names to win power."
"It's not uncommon, in cultures at this level of development," Lord Picard said, smiling faintly. Something in his presence relaxed the alien ex-Jedi and she gave him a slight smile in return. "Where I come from, we have a policy of strict non-interference in the affairs of nation states like Orlais. But events beyond anyone's control have already interfered in the natural development of their society. Ms. Tano's quite right; the civilians will suffer the most from this. Unless we can help them. Now, Val Royeaux is a long ways from mounting a credible defense against airplanes but I believe my colleague Mr. Luthor can give us all some good news."
The final member of the Trois du Ciel was the only one seated throughout this discussion. Once addressed, he rose, making it obvious how tall, well-muscled and immaculately dressed he was, even if his wardrobe didn't begin to blend in with Orlesian fashion. Lex Luthor had been named by the Empress Celene as the Chancellor of the University of Orlais and held principal responsibility for advancing the nation's technology for the escalating war.
Those who'd spoken with him had come to know very quickly how powerfully intelligent the man was. And equally quick came the realization that this man was far more pragmatic than either of his fellow founders.
"There simply hasn't been enough time," he said, slowly and a bit reluctantly. "Since my arrival in Val Royeaux, I've instructed their people in the elementary principles of building steam engines, as well as wind and water turbines to produce power. We do have the beginnings of an anti-aircraft system in place, basic flak cannons using gunpowder and RDX for propellent. But we haven't been able to manufacture enough to provide adequate air coverage of the entire city, nor are there enough trained gunners to make effective use of them."
"I do have repeating crossbows in production, with enough built to supply the Royal Army stationed here. Explosives are also not a problem. RDX is easy enough to produce if you know the formula and we have plenty of it now but that will be more useful for offensive missions, not against planes in the air. Proper rifles are still a bit off, constrained by the need to upgrade their manufacturing infrastructure. As promised, I do have individual presses for the ammunition used by all of you here."
Lex Luthor lifted a glass of wine that he'd held steady by the stem throughout the meeting. With it, he gestured at a rather large box set against one wall between a pair of chairs. "For those of you who've been hoarding your ammunition, you're invited to resupply. In good health," he toasted before sipping from his wine glass.
Taking that sip as his cue, Lord Picard said, "Now, some obvious strategies suggest themselves for defending Val Royeaux. But, as Ms. Tano so recently reminded me, I'm not the only person in the room with experience fighting a more modern war than this world is ready for. Take a moment. Refresh your drink, retrieve your ammunition if you like. Give it some thought. Each of you has remarkable experience and ability. We want to know how you might approach this scenario."
And Val Royeaux was also a city besieged.
Months ago, the first visitors from other realities emerged in Thedas. Three banded together in Orlais and founded the Chevaliers du Ciel, tasked with addressing those from other worlds, particularly the rising threat posed by untold thousands of Nazi soldiers currently occupying the Dales in the south of Orlais. As you were not one of the invaders, instead you found yourself attached to this organization, which offered provisions, funding, even armaments at the cost of a (loose) chain of command.
Originally, each of you found your way to Orlais somehow, one moment elsewhere and the next...here. Each of you encountered the people of Orlais and, one way or another, found yourselves meeting the original Trois du Ciel. As you find yourself meeting them again today.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1, Mission 4a: The Chevaliers du Ciel
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Chevaliers du Ciel have been called back to Val Royeaux to their headquarters, the Manoir d'Abadie which rested in the noble northern quarter of the city. Upon arrival, you were met by Orlesian servants tasked with meeting the needs of the Chevaliers du Ciel (or the Cell as members used among themselves). These servants provided an escort to one of the Manoir's more comfortable rooms, a parlor. Presumably, this had been a room for gentlemen to pass the time drinking and smoking. Now it served for conferences and discussions...along with drinking and smoking for those so inclined.
Standing by a window was Jean-Luc Picard. The retired Admiral was the public 'face' of the Trois du Ciel, as well as the Chevaliers du Ciel. In his way, Picard was the slowest to speak as well but he had a commanding voice, a palpable charismatic force when he entered a room, to which even Orlais' nobility responded. He'd been ennobled in the last month by the Empress Celene for his efforts in planning the Orlesian/Nazi war theater at a strategic and tactical level. It was his counsel and contributions that originally won the Cell the right of use to the Manoir d'Abadie, and it was widely opinioned that the heirless property would be outright deeded to him now that he was Lord Picard.
He gave a short nod of acknowledgement as each member of the Cell filed in, flashing an occasional smile or giving a warm greeting to a few of like sensibility. There was no question the Admiral both knew war very well and was particularly well read in the history of the enemy. But he didn't love either. Jean-Luc Picard was a peacemaker at heart and while he respected the abilities and accomplishments of all in the Cell, he was at his most personable with those who favored his kind of moral restraint.
"We'll get started once everyone's here," he said, in a low voice that wavered slightly from age but not from a lack of conviction. "We have...we have important news to share, that affects us all."
Once the Cell had assembled, Picard nodded as he surveyed those present. Then he spoke. "You've been recalled from the front because our intelligence suggests the Nazis are planning a direct attack on Val Royeaux itself. We've faced them before, most of you have, but an attack on the capital will, must, come over the Waking Sea. That could mean boats. It certainly means airplanes, a great many, possibly the whole of their reserve." He stepped away from the bar, hands clasped behind his back as he slowly paced through the room. "I expect, even in those numbers, they lack the strength to take Val Royeaux. But an attack on the heartland will, unfortunately, carry powerful political repercussions. Ms. Tano, if you please?"
Standing on the other side of the bar, and still standing there, was the Chevalier Cramoisi, as the locals knew her. Ahsoka Tano had quickly won the admiration of Orlesian society with her exotic looks, genteel manner and her legendary prowess with a pair of white lightsabers. Where Picard was the heart of the Cell, Ahsoka had frequently been its voice...and its eyes. Despite those exotic looks, she was remarkably good at passing unseen and had gathered a considerable amount of covert intelligence to be discussed and acted on by the people in this room. Several of you may have even partnered with her for a mission or two, and seen first hand her friendly, reserved presence as well as the fierce decisiveness she was capable of.
"Many of you know the Empress Celene has been on the throne for ten years," Ahsoka said. "What you may not know is that Orlesian succession is complicated at the best of times. In her case, the prior Emperor died without a direct heir of the body, resulting in an internal conflict that cost a number of lives. She won." The redskinned Torguta woman spoke with a quiet intensity that belied the reflexive discipline that usually cooled her tone. "And her chief rival, the loser, was the Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons. You might know him as the Field Marshal for the Orlesian Army. The very man who has become the chief critic of the Cell. A man I believe is at risk for acting against his oaths to a throne he might seize for his own."
Ahsoka Tano's gaze dropped to consider the ground for a moment as she gathered her words. "I've done what I could to keep the relationship between the Empress and her Field Marshal as friendly as possible. It's worked so far. But fresh pressure could fracture a relationship that's had ten years of resentment feeding it. Anger is a pathway to dark choices. The people of Orlais will be the real victims if a successful attack on Val Royeaux happens, because they will be the front lines and because their rulers will set them against each other in their names to win power."
"It's not uncommon, in cultures at this level of development," Lord Picard said, smiling faintly. Something in his presence relaxed the alien ex-Jedi and she gave him a slight smile in return. "Where I come from, we have a policy of strict non-interference in the affairs of nation states like Orlais. But events beyond anyone's control have already interfered in the natural development of their society. Ms. Tano's quite right; the civilians will suffer the most from this. Unless we can help them. Now, Val Royeaux is a long ways from mounting a credible defense against airplanes but I believe my colleague Mr. Luthor can give us all some good news."
The final member of the Trois du Ciel was the only one seated throughout this discussion. Once addressed, he rose, making it obvious how tall, well-muscled and immaculately dressed he was, even if his wardrobe didn't begin to blend in with Orlesian fashion. Lex Luthor had been named by the Empress Celene as the Chancellor of the University of Orlais and held principal responsibility for advancing the nation's technology for the escalating war.
Those who'd spoken with him had come to know very quickly how powerfully intelligent the man was. And equally quick came the realization that this man was far more pragmatic than either of his fellow founders.
"There simply hasn't been enough time," he said, slowly and a bit reluctantly. "Since my arrival in Val Royeaux, I've instructed their people in the elementary principles of building steam engines, as well as wind and water turbines to produce power. We do have the beginnings of an anti-aircraft system in place, basic flak cannons using gunpowder and RDX for propellent. But we haven't been able to manufacture enough to provide adequate air coverage of the entire city, nor are there enough trained gunners to make effective use of them."
"I do have repeating crossbows in production, with enough built to supply the Royal Army stationed here. Explosives are also not a problem. RDX is easy enough to produce if you know the formula and we have plenty of it now but that will be more useful for offensive missions, not against planes in the air. Proper rifles are still a bit off, constrained by the need to upgrade their manufacturing infrastructure. As promised, I do have individual presses for the ammunition used by all of you here."
Lex Luthor lifted a glass of wine that he'd held steady by the stem throughout the meeting. With it, he gestured at a rather large box set against one wall between a pair of chairs. "For those of you who've been hoarding your ammunition, you're invited to resupply. In good health," he toasted before sipping from his wine glass.
Taking that sip as his cue, Lord Picard said, "Now, some obvious strategies suggest themselves for defending Val Royeaux. But, as Ms. Tano so recently reminded me, I'm not the only person in the room with experience fighting a more modern war than this world is ready for. Take a moment. Refresh your drink, retrieve your ammunition if you like. Give it some thought. Each of you has remarkable experience and ability. We want to know how you might approach this scenario."
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