Dr_Nimm
2016-02-10, 03:21 PM
The Troezenian Republic is a well organized, powerful city-state, and the main rival to the formidable Iron City in world dominance. Troezenian soldiers are the most well trained and disciplined in the world. Society is hierarchical, with the most privilege and responsibility going to the aristocrats. It is from these elite families where generals and senators are chosen.
Though laws are created through vigorous debate from the senators, the overall Troezenian system borders on fascism. Once a law is put in place, it is strictly upheld. The general populace is prohibited of voicing any public dissent, their social lives and behavior controlled by large military and secret police networks. Punishment is harsh and swift.
Loyalty is first to the state, then the family. This is in contrast to the Iron City, where personal freedom and free enterprise is celebrated. Despite this, the living standards in Troezen, even among the poorest of the poor, is higher than that of the Iron City, a fact which Troezenians often cite in justifying their repressive government.
You are a member of the Bloodwelds, one of the most prominent military families among the aristocratic elites. Though you had a life of priviledge, much was expected of you, especially in the army. Having no interest in such things, you were a disappointment and embarassment since childhood. You pursued the path of the warlock in secret, for that style of magic is strictly forbidden. Not even your priviledge would save you if you were caught. Execution, or life in the dungeon with hands cut off would be the likely punishment for illegal magic.
As you became older, your experiments and spells became harder to hide. Also, you began to develop a mental illness. After several times where you almost got caught, and increasing family pressure and hostility, you decided it was time to go. However, leaving suddenly and without pretext would be seen as a sign of guilt or disrespect. Your best chance would be to study abroad. While in the process of securing acceptance at the University in the Iron City via correspondence, you must have made a mistake in hiding your evidence of magical practice. Though by this time you had your own private villa (partly to hide you to keep your mental illness from shaming the family), you often had close friends and family as visitors.
One morning, you awoke to find a Legate, three Centurions, your father Theorn Bloodweld, who is a Dux (general) of the legions, and your young cousin Syrn, a Prefect (Lieutenant) standing in your chambers, all armed and armored. Your servant, Giusan, was cowering miserably in the corner. "Haern," says Theorn, "the Legate has come to arrest you. You will cooperate and submit peacefully. I will make sure you are given a fair trial and already have the best lawyers on your case."
The Legate steps forward. "On behalf of the Republic of Troezen, I place Haern Bloodweld under arrest for suspicion of practicing and or soliciting knowledge of prohibited forms of sorcery, such as witchcraft, devilry, necromancy, or any other magic, however benign, that is practiced without license and consent of the state, pending a fair and swift trial. Centurions, seize him. Respectfully!" He adds nervously, glancing at your father the Consul for approval.
The Centurions step forward, clearly awkward at having to arrest the son of one of their greatest generals while he stands in the same room. You pull aside the sheets and sit up on the edge of the bed, nude. The centurions and Legate look away from you shyly. Taking advantage of their modesty, you devise a strategy. "At least allow me to be seen dressed properly, as suits my station." You say.
Your father nods. "You! Servant!" he says, "dress your master... Impeccably." Giusan creeps forward hesitantly and helps you dress. Your father, clearly distressed, approaches a window and stares out in the distance, with a look of total dejection and disappointment.
At this point no one is looking at you except Syrn. Your cousin never hid his distaste for you, nor you for him. He watches you with a contemptuous, self satisfied sneer. Bastard. However, you know his weaknesses: pride, and the fact that he underestimates you. They all underestimate you.
Turning this to your advantage, you look at Syrn with a cocky grin while uttering a massive lie: "Its pathetic that you've always felt so threatened by me." You say. "It belies your own insecurity over the fact that you're a mere shadow of my father and uncle the least talented of our generation. The only reason you're even Prefect is because I passed up the offer. Your rank is a scrap off my table, and you'll never be Dux or even a Legate."
Syrn tilts his head back, roaring laughter. Now is your chance! Roll sleight of hand with advantage. You can choose any two items from your night table next to you:
Small folding pocket knife
Metal clothes pins
Bracelet made from braided wire
Gem worth 30 gp
Whether or not your deception wqs sucessful, You're taken to prison. Your cell is on the top floor, the penthouse, 15 stories up. Due to your rank, it has nice furnishings (bed, toilet, small mirror and desk with paper and pen, flask of water and wine, bread, cheese, fruits). It has a small barred window on one side, ten feet up, so you don't know what it faces. On another side, a small balcony where you can sit outside. however, it is caged, and faces an inner courtyard and is highly visible, so anyone going out the balcony somehow will likely be spotted. The door is 6 inches thick of oak, with a small barred window on top that can open from the outside so people can.check on you.
You know that two guards are posted at all times right outside that door (and more guards presumably along the hallways). You know that they will be searching your house for clues. The longer you wait the more likely they will discover your dark secrets. What's your plan?
Though laws are created through vigorous debate from the senators, the overall Troezenian system borders on fascism. Once a law is put in place, it is strictly upheld. The general populace is prohibited of voicing any public dissent, their social lives and behavior controlled by large military and secret police networks. Punishment is harsh and swift.
Loyalty is first to the state, then the family. This is in contrast to the Iron City, where personal freedom and free enterprise is celebrated. Despite this, the living standards in Troezen, even among the poorest of the poor, is higher than that of the Iron City, a fact which Troezenians often cite in justifying their repressive government.
You are a member of the Bloodwelds, one of the most prominent military families among the aristocratic elites. Though you had a life of priviledge, much was expected of you, especially in the army. Having no interest in such things, you were a disappointment and embarassment since childhood. You pursued the path of the warlock in secret, for that style of magic is strictly forbidden. Not even your priviledge would save you if you were caught. Execution, or life in the dungeon with hands cut off would be the likely punishment for illegal magic.
As you became older, your experiments and spells became harder to hide. Also, you began to develop a mental illness. After several times where you almost got caught, and increasing family pressure and hostility, you decided it was time to go. However, leaving suddenly and without pretext would be seen as a sign of guilt or disrespect. Your best chance would be to study abroad. While in the process of securing acceptance at the University in the Iron City via correspondence, you must have made a mistake in hiding your evidence of magical practice. Though by this time you had your own private villa (partly to hide you to keep your mental illness from shaming the family), you often had close friends and family as visitors.
One morning, you awoke to find a Legate, three Centurions, your father Theorn Bloodweld, who is a Dux (general) of the legions, and your young cousin Syrn, a Prefect (Lieutenant) standing in your chambers, all armed and armored. Your servant, Giusan, was cowering miserably in the corner. "Haern," says Theorn, "the Legate has come to arrest you. You will cooperate and submit peacefully. I will make sure you are given a fair trial and already have the best lawyers on your case."
The Legate steps forward. "On behalf of the Republic of Troezen, I place Haern Bloodweld under arrest for suspicion of practicing and or soliciting knowledge of prohibited forms of sorcery, such as witchcraft, devilry, necromancy, or any other magic, however benign, that is practiced without license and consent of the state, pending a fair and swift trial. Centurions, seize him. Respectfully!" He adds nervously, glancing at your father the Consul for approval.
The Centurions step forward, clearly awkward at having to arrest the son of one of their greatest generals while he stands in the same room. You pull aside the sheets and sit up on the edge of the bed, nude. The centurions and Legate look away from you shyly. Taking advantage of their modesty, you devise a strategy. "At least allow me to be seen dressed properly, as suits my station." You say.
Your father nods. "You! Servant!" he says, "dress your master... Impeccably." Giusan creeps forward hesitantly and helps you dress. Your father, clearly distressed, approaches a window and stares out in the distance, with a look of total dejection and disappointment.
At this point no one is looking at you except Syrn. Your cousin never hid his distaste for you, nor you for him. He watches you with a contemptuous, self satisfied sneer. Bastard. However, you know his weaknesses: pride, and the fact that he underestimates you. They all underestimate you.
Turning this to your advantage, you look at Syrn with a cocky grin while uttering a massive lie: "Its pathetic that you've always felt so threatened by me." You say. "It belies your own insecurity over the fact that you're a mere shadow of my father and uncle the least talented of our generation. The only reason you're even Prefect is because I passed up the offer. Your rank is a scrap off my table, and you'll never be Dux or even a Legate."
Syrn tilts his head back, roaring laughter. Now is your chance! Roll sleight of hand with advantage. You can choose any two items from your night table next to you:
Small folding pocket knife
Metal clothes pins
Bracelet made from braided wire
Gem worth 30 gp
Whether or not your deception wqs sucessful, You're taken to prison. Your cell is on the top floor, the penthouse, 15 stories up. Due to your rank, it has nice furnishings (bed, toilet, small mirror and desk with paper and pen, flask of water and wine, bread, cheese, fruits). It has a small barred window on one side, ten feet up, so you don't know what it faces. On another side, a small balcony where you can sit outside. however, it is caged, and faces an inner courtyard and is highly visible, so anyone going out the balcony somehow will likely be spotted. The door is 6 inches thick of oak, with a small barred window on top that can open from the outside so people can.check on you.
You know that two guards are posted at all times right outside that door (and more guards presumably along the hallways). You know that they will be searching your house for clues. The longer you wait the more likely they will discover your dark secrets. What's your plan?