TheDarkDM

Befitting an event of such prestige as the Dash, Duke Esarhaddon III and his Duchess had chosen to attend together, socializing easily with the other luminaries in the VIP dome. There is little to distinguish their presence from earlier years for most of the preamble, until a coded alert springs up on Esarhaddon's subcutaneous transmitter. As if summoned by the nondescript flash of code, a blazing star detaches from the surrounding sky and resolves into the monstrous drive plume of a ship very familiar to the veterans of the first Mad Dash. Outside, transmitting on an open channel, comes the first scream of a valkyrie war cry. "Ani'Quin, you son of a bitch! I hope you didn't think I was missing this show!" The Lilin howled past the already-lit starting line, under thrust that would have been impossible were it not for the questionably-treasonous work of Naram-Lu and Naqi'a's quiescent engineering team.

%5BCenter%5D%5BIMG%5Dhttps%3A%2F%2Fupload.wikimedia.org%2Fwikipedia%2Fcommons%2F2%2F2e%2FAuto_Racing_Red_Circle.svg%5B%2FIMG%5D%5B%2FCenter%5D The House of Fire Dur-Shalkhir (Region 76) Region 80 Region 81 Duke Esarhaddon III Diplomacy 6 Military 9 Economy 7 Faith 2 Intrigue 3 Expected Stat Increases: +1 Diplomacy, +1 Military Actions: [Diplomacy] Sway Government Support in Region 81 [Diplomacy] Attend the Mekhala-Veehra Dash of 2050 Event Sub-Actions Trade for technologies Accept control of Region 22 from the Eucrus Alliance [Military] Raise 1 Space Unit [Military] Join the Space Front above Region 37 with 4 Space Units, assisting Fiorid forces. Turtanu-Ziqpu Ra'ima (Mil 8) takes command, attempting In the Light of Chastising Stars (+2 to Battle Roll) [Economy] Donate 1 Treasure to the Imperial Court's Extraordinary Research Grants Approval Non-Actions: Support all conversions by the Imperial Cult News and Rumors: Following a series of clandestine negotiations between representatives of the Eucrus Alliance and the Ducal Diplomatic Corps, a proclamation is delivered at the conclusion of the Mekhala-Veehra Dash. Though divided by many thousands of miles and the brutal dictates of survival, Duke Esarhaddon III recognizes the kanmara as fundamentally human. Stripping to his waist, the Duke allows the Alliance representative to scar the muscle above his heart, a declaration of friendship to bind the two farthest-flung children of Mekhala. In recognition and gratitude for the integration of Sansarite territory into the demesne of the House of Fire, Duke Esarhaddon III recognizes the claim of the Eucrus Alliance on the space separating the House of Fire from the chaos engulfing Bloodlord Peter's Reign of Blood. Should stability return to their leal Khylokian neighbors, the Duke pledges to affirm an undisputed territory to the Alliance, that they might at long last return home. Record Keeping Heir: Artavasdes II (Dip 3, Mil 4, Econ 1, Fai 3, Int 4) Current Treasure: 1/5 Trade Posts: 3 Uranium TP 1 (Region 76), Uranium Arcology TP (Region 76), Ice TP 2 (Region 97) Passive Treasure Income: 1/Round Land Units: 1 First Void Knight Banner Space Units: 4 DVS Tiamat DVS Bull of Heaven DVS Pazuzu DVS Lamassu Technologies: Arcane Amplification, Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry, Algorithmic Imagination, In Vivo Modification, Nuclear Fusion, Vacuum Adaptation, Xenolinguistic Cataloguing Military Technologies Ground Front: Man-Portable Weapons: N/A Infantry Equipment: N/A Combat Drugs and Medicine: N/A Armored Vehicles: N/A Field Fortifications: N/A Engineered Combat Organisms: N/A Space Front: Detection and Rangefinding: N/A Ship to Ship Weapons: N/A Orbit to Ground Weapons: N/A Crew and Maintenance: N/A Armor and Shields: N/A Spacecraft Propulsion: N/A Both Fronts: Electronic Warfare and Countermeasures: N/A Special Forces: N/A Logistics and Morale: N/A

Reeling away from Doom Soom, the remnants of Belu's armored left arm clamped shut automatically, the inbuilt nanotourniquets fighting desperately to keep him conscious. His remaining arm quivering against the pain, Belu charged towards the nearest fighter to him, his monorapier extended towards the Keon Night with murderous intent.

Allowing the wounded Console to withdraw, Belu spun to face the enraged monster that the Kildoran heir had become. They came together in a desperate grapple, Belu straining for some leverage to bring his monorapier to bear, Doom Soom seeking to bury him in scales. It was a near run thing for both, as the edge of Belu's monorapier came within centimeters of severing the tangled mass of serpents at the root, before he was hurled away by Doom Soom with a triumphant cry, his armored left arm left tangled, limp and bloody, in the serpents' jaws.

Belu had dropped into a fighting stance as soon as the second of silence had concluded, crouching with his armored limb held forward like the prow of some ancient ship. Set upon by a machine rather than an opponent of flesh and blood, he nevertheless endeavored to block the gunshots crackling through the air to stab through some vital piece of machinery. Bleeding from several minor wounds that quickly scabbed over thanks to his adrenapigment, Belu engaged Prisca in a lightning exchange between monorapier and mechacaestus. His armored limb rattled as he struggled to contest a strength driven by reactor and hydraulics, the humming point of his sword seeking a weak point. At last the storm parted, and as Belu leapt clear of the Console's mech it was clear the vile machine had been compromised, the socket of its left leg struggling against a crippling thrust, one caestus smashed to uselessness against the diamond-hard spike of Belu's gauntlet.

The House of Fire would not attend this new Bloodsport in force. The Games had been a staple of culture on Dur-Shalkhir for centuries, and while the Duke held little love for the spectacle of the hoi polloi he was disinclined to grant his implicit blessing to this more savage, upstart endeavor. Still, the Master of Games was not a man to be outshone, and so a passenger liner of House make appeared to answer the call. Inside traveled Belu, a recent darling of the Games, his broad shoulders and familiarity with low gravity indicative of his childhood in Industri-fief Tupsha. Skill on the sand had granted him reprieve from the mines, and drunk on victory he envisioned no future save glory. When the bald native of Dur-Shalkhir strode into the arena, it was with the practiced flair of the entertainer. Stripped to his specialized armor, most of his skin was covered by nothing but stark white adrenal paint, the tacky substance providing both pain-killer and coagulant against wounds. His left arm was sheathed in interlocking layers of gilded titanium alloy, ending in a spiked gauntlet, while a simple nano-mesh sleeve was all that protected the arm holding a humming, basket-hilted monorapier. The helmet secured atop his head gave the impression of a beast of legend, one of the fabled "lions" as if caught and sculpted in flame. Only his face bore a color beyond chromium black and ghostly white, as four jagged streaks of red fell from right temple to the left mandible of his jaw. Striding onto the killing field, he spread both arms wide and roared a response to the shrieking crowd. Three times, his bellow nearly drowned them out, and each time the mob responded with greater furor. Satisfied at last, he raised the point of his monrapier towards the broadcasting equipment transmitting the match back to the intranets of Dur-Shalkhir, then out towards the brilliance of the inner systems. "FOR DUKE! FOR EMPEROR! FOR GLORY!"

%5BCenter%5D%5BIMG%5Dhttps%3A%2F%2Fupload.wikimedia.org%2Fwikipedia%2Fcommons%2F2%2F2e%2FAuto_Racing_Red_Circle.svg%5B%2FIMG%5D%5B%2FCenter%5D The House of Fire Dur-Shalkhir (Region 76) Duke Esarhaddon III Diplomacy 5 Military 9 Economy 6 Faith 2 Intrigue 3 Expected Stat Increases: +1 Diplomacy, +1 Economy Actions: [Diplomacy] Create a Confederation Claim on Region 78 (Spend 1 Treasure, +1 Renown) - 7 [Diplomacy 5] Introduce Cultural Identity - Imperial Heritage (Sway Supports) [Economy] Colonize Region 80 - 13 [Economy] Buy Out TP 1 of Space Opera in Region 83 - 13 [Diplomacy] Raise Reputation with the Imperial Court (2 > 3) - 16 Non-Actions: Support all conversions by the Imperial Cult Support the Khylokian Reign of Blood's buyout of Uranium TP 3 News and Rumors: In 2046, all of Dur-Shalkhir rejoices as the royal couple of Artavasdes II and Monite Ebonne welcome a daughter into the world. The celebration lasts a week, and goes down in memory as a time of singular pageantry, until it is matched and exceeded by the celebration to welcome their second daughter in 2048. Both girls are born in the heart of Dur-Shalkhir itself, nurtured by the Core Seers and their doting parents, giving rise to a popular belief that they are fated for singular greatness. Record Keeping Heir: Artavasdes II (Dip 3, Mil 4, Econ 1, Fai 3, Int 4) Current Treasure: 1/5 Trade Posts: 3 Uranium TP 1 (Region 76), Uranium Arcology TP (Region 76), Ice TP 2 (Region 97) Passive Treasure Income: 1/Round Land Units: 1 First Void Knight Banner Space Units: 4 DVS Tiamat DVS Bull of Heaven DVS Pazuzu DVS Lamassu Technologies: Arcane Amplification, Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry, Algorithmic Imagination, In Vivo Modification, Nuclear Fusion, Vacuum Adaptation, Xenolinguistic Cataloguing Military Technologies Ground Front: Man-Portable Weapons: N/A Infantry Equipment: N/A Combat Drugs and Medicine: N/A Armored Vehicles: N/A Field Fortifications: N/A Engineered Combat Organisms: N/A Space Front: Detection and Rangefinding: N/A Ship to Ship Weapons: N/A Orbit to Ground Weapons: N/A Crew and Maintenance: N/A Armor and Shields: N/A Spacecraft Propulsion: N/A Both Fronts: Electronic Warfare and Countermeasures: N/A Special Forces: N/A Logistics and Morale: N/A

"The compliment was meant for you, Lady Hekla. It is yours to do with as you will." Moving around to face Hekla, Ana-Tashmetum-taklak reclined against a nearby stone balustrade. "Please forgive me, it is so easy to forget the weight of history you have lived. One struggles to fathom it." Amber eyes danced over Hekla's pale face, their color almost lost as the Duchess' irises expanded against the night. The Duchess was too well-bred to pry further, but there was a silent invitation in her gaze, an offer, if not of understanding, then at least of empathy.

"Ani-Quin! Glad to see you're still with us." Naqi'a reaches over to give her fellow racer a slap on the shoulder. The sharp points of her nails dig in for a momentary squeeze. "With any luck the Industrial Coalition won't be sending any stray rockets into the race next time and we can concentrate on the important things." Releasing Ani-Quin's shoulder, she brings her fingers together in a sphere before splaying them apart. "Dusting Kylokians." A trill of laughter follows, extinguished by a sip of champagne. While the racers have talked, Naqi'a's immature Mother Serpent has made its way through the uncertain crowd to coil once more into a makeshift throne for her. Leaning back against the salt-white scales, she idly taps the base of her glass against the snake, raising a pure crystalline toll. "My pleasure Alud." The tip of her tongue runs along her upper teeth as the Soom prince conjures his straw. It pauses in a strange smile when Velocipede responds. "Then there's hope for this party yet."

The Ducal Yacht of the House of Fire had become a common presence in the orbit of Sansar, servicing the warring responsibilities of a family forged together by the wedding of mutual heirs. However, while Artavasdes II and Monite were representing their families on distant Badal, the yacht arrived with a distant passenger. Emerging from the sleek Mekhalan shuttle, the Duchess Ana-Tashmetum-taklak flowed through the waiting crowds in a gown of liquid gold, two handmaidens dipped in amber following in her wake. Though her concerns and those of her husband were primarily temporal following the return of the Core Seers, the Duchess had judged it necessary to stand in support of their fellow faithful among the Llort Protectorate and the Reign of Blood. That it provided an opportunity to observe The Parasite directly was simply added benefit. The Duchess had watched the debate with great interest, her face hidden behind a delicate fan of black silk, removed only momentarily to salute Flightmaster Paco as well as Magister Sage Jénou. Even as the day's trials set into night's festivities, she remained aloof, amber eyes drinking in the crowd until she noticed the elderly Flightmaster detach himself from the milieu. Hoping to congratulate him, the Duchess drifted forward, only to witness the scene unfolding between Paco and his unexpected admirers. Including the uncharacteristic retreat of a scion of House Fiore. She had met Hekla once before, at the wedding in Caipe Ushere, and now Ana-Tashmetum-taklak allowed her maternal instincts to supersede matters of state. Following Hekla like a gilded shadow, the Duchess waited until they were alone before snapping her fan open to announce her presence. "Your family keeps an exquisite home, Lady Hekla."

Snatching a brief moment alone with Monite, Artavasdes stared down at the swirling clouds while holding her gently. Well aware that his wife was no doubt mid-composition of a new poem, he leaned down to murmur softly in her ear. "Benighted and cursed though this world may be, it does nurture a certain beauty." He stole a kiss behind her ear, once more fighting down his confusion that a human being could produce so much hair. Later... At Shi Lithium's approach, Artavasdes turned with military precision. Inclining his head to an equal in nobility, he allowed Monite to speak before clarifying for the Archknight. "And the House of Fire. Stories of your prowess have reached us in Mekhala, sir knight. I look forward to a display of your skill." Artavasdes II enters the tournament! Knightly Duel: +7 Pirate Brawl: +4 (Heir Score) Caged Streetfight: +7 (Miltiary)

Striding from the Soom-Clan speeder behind Alud is a phantom swathed in smoke-grey robes, a silver mask obscuring their face. It stands ominously in the arched hatch, blank eyes watching the scion of Veehra make his triumphant entrance, and only once it has been dismissed as a bodyguard does it move again. Taking its first step onto the red carpet, a red-nailed hand emerged from its voluminous depths, snapping ivory fingers and summoning a spark from some hidden mechanism. At once, the gossamer threads of the billowing robe erupt in a flash of scarlet flames, sending spirals of silk-thin embers blowing into the void above. The silver mask falls, and revealed in the phantoms place is the statuesque figure of Naqi'a, Lady of Fire, the Thrice-Crowned Wings of Night. Starting from a high collar and sliding down full sleeves, her dress only parts in a long slit revealing the fangs of golden stilettos. It might have been a somewhat chaste affair, were the entire dress not woven of translucent snakeskin. Dyed a smoky grey, it gives the illusion of a liquid layer of smoky quartz cascading down Naqi'a's body from a gold and ruby approximation of a racer's vacuum collar. Red lipstick and explosive streaks of red eyeshadow frame her emerald eyes, bright with amusement, and as she bares her teeth in a smile she unleashes a trilling whistle. Something stirs in the still-yawning darkness of the speeder, and as Naqi'a laughs with gay abandon an enormous serpent emerges into the light. Making its way to Naqia's feet, it wraps itself in lazy coils until the scion of the House of Fire can recline against it as a sibilant throne, her long nails scratching idly at its underbelly. Inside... A flute of Ushere champagne in either hand, Naqi'a pierces the veil of fans and onlookers surrounding the impromptu reunion of Mad Dashers. "Don't sell yourself short, Velocipede. You Sansarites squirrel away nuclear ordnance in libraries - I'm sure if we put you on the spot you could at least manage a fission device." Moving next to Alud, she slides one of the champagne flutes into his empty hands. "Have you told the Console-Elect what else you can navigate by touch?"

%5BCenter%5D%5BIMG%5Dhttps%3A%2F%2Fupload.wikimedia.org%2Fwikipedia%2Fcommons%2F2%2F2e%2FAuto_Racing_Red_Circle.svg%5B%2FIMG%5D%5B%2FCenter%5D The House of Fire Dur-Shalkhir (Region 76) Duke Esarhaddon III Diplomacy 5 Military 7 Economy 6 Faith 2 Intrigue 3 Expected Stat Increases: +2 Military Actions: [Military] Invade Region 81 with 2 Space Units under the command of Turtanu-Ziqpu Ra'ima (Mil 8) attempting In the Light of Chastising Stars (+2 to battle), Spending 1 Treasure (+1 Gunzir Massif) [Military] Raise 1 Space Unit The shattered superstructure of the DVS Bull of Heaven is recovered in the opening days of the renewed assault on the Imperial Bar, returned to the shipyards of the Eye of Esarhaddon for retrofit and rechristening. [Military] Salvage the Crashed Warship in Region 47, Spending 1 Treasure - 13 [Military] Sack Trade Post 3 of Unblemished Wreckage in the Moonsoul Mountains (Region 44) using 1 Space Unit and 1 Ground Unit - 10 Sub-Action: Attempt to steal 1 Renown from the Glorious Purifiers [Diplomacy] Raise Reputation with the Imperial Court (1 > 2) - 15 Non-Actions: Support all conversions by the Imperial Cult Support the conversion of the Merely Players in Dur-Shalkhir Accept the embassy of The Shattered Coven News and Rumors: ... Record Keeping Heir: Artavasdes II (Dip 3, Mil 4, Econ 1, Fai 3, Int 4) Current Treasure: 1/5 Trade Posts: 3 Uranium TP 1 (Region 76), Uranium Arcology TP (Region 76), Ice TP 2 (Region 97) Passive Treasure Income: 1/Round Land Units: 1 First Void Knight Banner Space Units: 3 DVS Tiamat DVS Bull of Heaven (Destroyed) DVS Pazuzu DVS Lamassu Technologies: Arcane Amplification, Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry, Algorithmic Imagination, In Vivo Modification, Nuclear Fusion, Vacuum Adaptation, Xenolinguistic Cataloguing Military Technologies Ground Front: Man-Portable Weapons: N/A Infantry Equipment: N/A Combat Drugs and Medicine: N/A Armored Vehicles: N/A Field Fortifications: N/A Engineered Combat Organisms: N/A Space Front: Detection and Rangefinding: N/A Ship to Ship Weapons: N/A Orbit to Ground Weapons: N/A Crew and Maintenance: N/A Armor and Shields: N/A Spacecraft Propulsion: N/A Both Fronts: Electronic Warfare and Countermeasures: N/A Special Forces: N/A Logistics and Morale: N/A

The Wedding The parents of three children, both Duke and Duchess lapse into indulgent smiles at Lilja's compounding faux pas. Perhaps it was different in distant Verdalfheim, but no subject of the Duke would have dreamed of doing him the insult of questioning his strength and fitness. "Indeed, my good cousin Queen Chalise's hospitality is like to rival the Emperor's." The insult dismissed and disarmed with a compliment towards their host. Touching her husband's arm, Ana-Tashmetum-taklak leaned forward. "Please, take your ease as we celebrate our two intertwining dynasties. Their is no burden in true friendship." The Reception Having shed the inky shroud of his ceremonial cloak, Artavasdes II sat resplendent in his sharp-angled red uniform, the geometric gold brocade crawling its sleeves and hem a twining match to Monite's satin and foxgloves. His amber eyes alive in the strange, biomechanical rhythm of the House of Fire, narrowing and expanding far more actively than those found among natives on Sansar. It was almost enough to cover the dilation every time his gaze passed over Monite, the hitched excitement for this moment finally come. He nodded his welcome to the Fiori delegation, expertly covering his surprise that such disabilities had been allowed to scar the high nobility in this age of gene therapy and cybernetic prostheses. Wheelchairs were archaic curiosities on Dur-Shalkhir. "Thank you for your generous invitation, Lady Hekla, and for your lovely gift. Dur-Shalkhir would be glad to host you and your sister should you ever find yourself in the outer orbits." Beneath the pleasantries, the young heir to the House of Fire could not help but wonder at the liberty the Lady Hekla might enjoy freed of gravity's cruel chains. The approach of the Coedd ambassador sees Artavasdes cede control of the proceedings to his new wife. Though contact had been limited, there was a great and growing concern in the House over these strange creatures that did not consider a human life something of inherent value. He doubted very much that Coedd's gift was anything more than a painstakingly-crafted lure, and resolved to submit it to full bioscan and quarantine before the night was out. At the approach of the Knights of Eilif Dhaoine, he felt once more in his element. "No matter the distance, we are all united in Ophon's light sir knight. Perhaps one day soon we might host you in Dur-Shalkhir and compare the traditions of Void Knights with those of Sansar's stalwart defenders."

Duke Esarhaddon III of the House of Fire and his Duchess Ana-Tashmetum-taklak stood opposite and apart from Queen Chalise, respecting their imminent relation's sovereignty but secure in their partnership. The Duke was resplendent once more in the full ceremonial regalia of his office, crimson robes spilling down like a waterfall to pool in a triangular train at his feet. Standing beneath the sunlight that had birthed humanity his green eyes and his wife's amber were indistinguishable from the Usherets surrounding them, save for the startling mirror sheen of their pupils. Ana-Tashmetum-taklak was dressed to match her husband for the festive occasion, her crimson gown cut conservatively with clever seams allowing an underlayer of onyx crystal weave to shine through. Both nobles of the House of Fire wore simple ornaments in gold to complement their ensembles, matching circlets of fractal patterns reminiscent of fire in zero-g, the linked sunburst chain of office around the Duke's shoulders mirrored in a waterfall necklace of diamond stars and Ophonic sunbursts shrouding the Duchess' reserved décolletage. High in orbit, the black needle of the Ducal Yacht was visible in the sunlight, poised to be the centerpiece of the unprecedented fireworks display planned for the climax of the festivities. There too waited the sister of the groom, as the Lady of Fire Naqi'a prepped for a joint flyover of Ducal and Ebonne fighters to celebrate the union of two orbits. Nearer their parents but already ensconced in his assigned seat is the youngest child of the House of Fire, Lord of Fire Akiya IV, just recently grown to manhood but uncertain of these new surroundings in his seventeen-year-old awkwardness. Still, he cut a dashing enough figure from afar in his fleet dress uniform. The groom himself was secluded in silent contemplation as was the House of Fire's tradition, and would emerge to walk the long aisle alongside his bride.