dragmire | Seventh Sin - [Action / Written]

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[action],
[written]

Seventh Sin - [Action / Written]

It had been over two months since Ganondorf had returned to Luceti. In that time, he'd acclimated himself to the place once more. He'd found shelter at the southern lake, in an abandoned old cabin. It suited him quite well, thought it had required adjustments to account for his height. But if afforded him privacy. That was the most important thing. In the fading hours of evening, the lake would glisten and sparkle as he practiced his magic over the water. With bursts of flames and lightning, it was like a private fireworks show. Each night he pushed himself harder, bringing himself to exhaustion, all for the sake of drawing a little more power out of each spell. He knew that there was so much more the Triforce could offer him that he had not yet learned to tap. His magic needed to be at its best to make up for the weakness that Luceti's barrier inflicted upon him.

However, he was being idle. He needed to continue putting his plans into motion. Which meant he needed soldiers. So today and those following, he made a point of being in the village more. Already a few individuals had caught his interest. It was merely a matter of finding their innermost desires. Once he had those, they would be ensnared and made to do his work. For that reason, Ganondorf made appearances across the village. He goes to Good Spirits to drink, quiet and alone. Ever watchful of those with him. He visits the newest stables to look over the horses. They don't quite equal the might of his own steed, but he does show an interest in them. He's surprisingly adept at keeping them calm. He makes a typical visit to the smithy to see if any familiar weapons have followed him. None so far. He even makes a short visit to the grocery to restock. With an impressive height of seven feet and five inches, he tends to stand out wherever he goes. Especially with the fine armor he's currently wearing.

Lastly, he spends time in the library. His primary interests are in tomes of magic, histories of other worlds, and particularly those detailing the mythologies of these worlds. As he studies this information, he takes to the journals.

[Written]

In my land, there are many ancient relics, some imbued with great power. Some from deities, great sorcerers, or even the old gods themselves. One such relic was left behind by the three goddesses, containing unimaginable power. But it was lost, never to be found by mortal hands. Many have foolishly sought it and lost their lives in pursuit of the golden power. Not even the ancient demon king himself ever laid a finger on it.

In another land, a tribe of powerful sorcerers combined their collective might into one relic, the Fused Shadow. With it, they commanded the greatest power ever to be in mortal hands. So great was their power, the gods commanded that the spirits of light should seal that power away and banish the sorcerers to a realm of pure darkness.

In this world, the Malnosso and the cultists vie for the greatest power this world has to offer. With Shifting, they command the very fabric of the universe, creating and altering whatever they see fit. With this force, they cage away the people of this enclosure, who command their own considerable power.

Tell me: what power does your own world hold? Can it overcome the power that our captors and enemies hold?

((OOC: Please check out his Permissions/Plotting post and reply if you want to sign up for stuff!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"The point is at the tip of the arrow." He said it with such absolute sincerity that it was impossible to tell if he meant that as a joke or an honest correction. "You seem disappointed."

..Hah. His laugh -- for whether it was an honest question or not, he laughed -- was little more than an intake of breath.

"If I'm disappointed, mate, it's only that the archers outnumber us who use longarms by a number I ain't comfortable."

He missed the other rifleman, really. Moran.

"Long arms." The first thought that came to mind was a spear or sword. But he knew better than that. They didn't shoot, after all. "Weapons like the Malnosso use?"

"Something like that. Guns, Ganondorf. Big'uns. Not cannon or nothing -- but rifles. A musket'll do in a pinch. I once saw a priest with a blunderbuss."

Edited 2013-01-25 14:44 (UTC)

"There are cannons in my world, but that is all. I come from a world of swords, spears, and sorcery."

Cannons and naught else? Christ. He tried to imagine those battles and he didn't envy the men in those ranks, listening to the thunder and cough of great big guns with only swords to reassure them. Not that Sharpe didn't appreciate a sword or two, but when it came to warfare...

"How common is it? This sorcery?"

"Many practice it. Few master it. Among my people, we give to our strongest warriors enchanted armor, powerful enough that they need not fear sword or cannons."

"Christ. Is that so? Bully for them."

Sharpe thought about his own experience. Good thugs merely got sent out again and again. To a point. He did find himself striding into battle less and less now that he was a Major. Still not sure how he felt about that.

"I'm afraid we don't so much reward our strongest but our daftest, back home."

"That seems the swiftest and surest way to destroy an army. Those who are fools do not survive the world long enough to see battle."

At least with the Gerudo. All the Hylians were fools. Stupid Hylians.

"And yet, the fools who survive the battles against all odds are rewarded handsomely." Sharpe was critcizing himself along with the rest, although he gave little indication of that fact. "Do armies in your world practice the Forlorn Hope?"

Perhaps through some trick of translation, the concept was not lost on him. "Indeed. It is often inevitable. But my people are cunning, trained as thieves before soldiers. Stealth and surprise are our preferred tactic."

When it came to monsters, however, Ganondorf thought nothing of sending them in waves to be killed. They were expendable.

A bark of a laugh. Sharpe himself was a thief long before he was a soldier, and he understood how the darker sides of human ingenuity often fared well in war. The notion that such elements are put to better use somewhere else?

Why, it's almost enough to make a man question where he truly belonged.

"Men who survive our Forlorn Hopes are given instant promotion. So the very foolish and the very ambitious are rewarded for their choice to march daftly into the breach; what are we congratulating them on, eh? Not always their skill. Often just their ability to hide under a fallen comrade."

"If not hope for reward, what other reason would they have to march into sure death?"

He understood the concept well. Rewarding them for what was certain death certainly seemed an effective means of motivation.

"Oh, aye. It works well enough and that's a fine reason to do it."

And Sharpe had thrown his lot in with a few Forlorn Hopes. His sleeve held a wreathed VS badge: valiant stormer. But he urged himself to believe he only did it because there was nothing else he could do. Nothing like the seventeen year old boys who were thirsty for glory and immortality.

"Don't make it any less daft now, does it?"

While Ganondorf might agree on principal, he was also a king. A general. If a tactic like that was enough to get men on the front lines willingly, then it was worth it. "What then would you suggest instead?"

Edited 2013-02-01 05:13 (UTC)

"The premise is sound: rewarding men for their service. But the...application?" That was the word, wasn't it? "Bloody hell, it's faulty. They should be providing the same inc-- incentives for other jobs well done, eh? Get rid of the sale of commission. But you can't do it like the EIC does it, either, for ranks by seniority just leaves good men languishing as lieutenants.

I can't bloody well believe I'm saying this, but the army ought to look to the navy on this count."

He doesn't know what the EIC is, but the meaning is received well enough.

"How then does your navy work?"

"Their lower ranked officers take exams to advance."

Not that Sharpe trusted in the results of a written test. Like as not, he'd never pass such a thing. But it was a system that nonetheless looked more attractive than fops throwing money at the war machine.

"Those with a talent for it do well. In the army, you can often only get as far as your purse allows."

"I see the merit. Do you have the power to see things change in such a way?"

"...I have only the power to do it another way and so prove that it can be done, Ganondorf."

And he wasn't convinced that was much of a power at all, really. "Set an example, like. For I can't afford my commissions. I can't even sell the one I've got for money! There's rules against that."

"You seek to be an inspiration." Admirable, if not misguided. "Is it enough for you?"

"I seek to make it to the other side of the battle alive, and with my battalion intact. If I'm an inspiration on the way? Then so be it. Getting your name out there does come with certain...perks."

He hadn't answered the question, of course. Was it enough for him?

He noticed. So Ganondorf pressed the question.

"But are the perks enough?"

"They have to be, when your career advances or rots upon your reputation."

"Certainly you must desire more than just this."

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