Puppet Child Emperor Quest I

>>1666202
>>The eldest Imperial child, born to the Emperor very early in his reign, now age ten, a bastard, his mother having never been recognised even as a consort.

>>1666202
Oh fuck, this is interesting, I'll be in this once I get back from lunch.
>The Crown Prince of the Empire, still a child of five, firstborn to the Emperor's favoured consort, not Empress Julia herself?

But default my vote to >>1666208 if there is no clear consensus in a bit.

>>1666208
Bastard emperor

>>1666202
>The eldest Imperial child, born to the Emperor very early in his reign, now age ten, a bastard, his mother having never been recognised even as a consort.

Bastard sounds fun

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Your tutor, Zheng Liao, sits across from you, and you yawn, bowing gently under the heat of the darkening parlour, lit only by a pair of lanterns. The slow, and yet high voice of the eunuch-scholar speaks in a continuing drone, discussing the classics of history, the words of Tien-Nero, Soldier-Scholar of distant times, dead long before your birth. You feel stifled, but this is hardly anything new, given your residence in the summer palace. The lowlands are always hot in spring, and the humidity, even this late in the evening, clings to your half-tanned skin. You are almost unique among the various princes and sequestered lordlings in that you are often allowed to leave the palace grounds, since you are not, by technicality, a prince.

You yearn for this freedom now, as you listen to the endless drawl, and your tutor knows it. Zheng will not let you go easily though, and you see in his eyes, as the roll of papyrus closes, and as his voice stops that your evening of work will not cease. You look up, hopelessly at him, but his eyes are careless. He is like the rest of the eunuchs, he looks at you, half with the fear of heaven, and half with disdain for a bastard, not even worthy of acknowledgement. You scowl. Normally, a scowling student would be punished, but the blank face of Zheng remains, he knows better than to strike the grandson of heaven, though it pains him to acknowledge you as such. Seeing his hand twitch, you grin in smug comfort. The grandson of heaven. The blood of gods flows in you, and in that way, whatever scorn they pour on you, you are above them.

You rise to your feet before he grants it to you, feeling impetuous, until behind you he announces that you will be attending the Empress Dowager's dinner this evening. Your blood, once hot, now runs cold, and you pause, before walking on into your chambers, out of reach of the now smug voice behind you. You take up a hand-mirror from a small side table once you enter the paper-curtained entrance of your chambers, and survey yourself. You own nothing, but you can perhaps lay claim to all in this simple apartment. A bedchamber, a dressing chamber, a wardrobe filled to the brim with ceremonial clothing, and a small set of servants quarters, in which dwell the few servants of your little confined household.

You sigh, but carefully survey your face, your eyes, your clothes. Court life is about the simple ticks of the face, about the imperceptible movements of the hand behind the back. A tick of speech can end a life, a simple pronoun used wrong can mean a slaughter. You know this well, even as a young man.

>What do you see in the mirror?
>A young man in traditional casual dress, half-tanned olive skin as the true sons of Fu-Tze, with a broad, warm face, and the same dark eyes as your father?
>A young man in military casual dress, well built and resembling nothing so much as a soldier's aide. Your skin is half-tanned porcelain, the shade of the western folk?
>Something Else?

>>1666289
To clarify, Fu-Tze is an ancient Hero of the native people of this Middle Kingdom, while the western folk (Usually the more Latin sounding names) dwell along the western border and have come to dominate much of the military, hence the military uniform for the western choice. Of course, mix and match uniforms and ethnicities as you choose.

>>1666289
>A young man in military casual dress, well built and resembling nothing so much as a soldier's aide. Your skin is half-tanned porcelain, the shade of the western folk?

>>1666339
Seconded.

>>1666339
Supportin

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You stand out among your peers, your western blood evident even at a glance, a rarity among the upper classes of Lungyang. You know very little of your history, or of where you come from other than from the son of heaven, but you have heard whispers that your mother was a barbarian chieftain's daughter, who had a short affair with the Emperor in his days as a commander in the west. You do not know how you came to be found by your father, or whether your mother yet lives, but you have never given it a great deal of thought. All that matters is your father. His blood is yours. That's all you need care about, not some tribal chieftess.

Your face is still broad and childish, without the definition of manhood, and no beard yet marks your still smooth skin. Your eyes, watery blue, are inquisitive, and your hair is, uniquely among the people of the court, auburn-red, like dyed paper. You remember that your nurses, half endearingly, nicknamed you Hong-Xirong, Warlike Red-Haired Barbarian, since you were such an angry infant. You cannot say you have truly escaped that nickname, and you remember with pride having slapped the maid who came up with the name a year or two ago. Your uniform is crisp, despite the heat, a white tunic underneath covered by a coat of wool, overlaid with black and golden silks. As a bastard, black is your familial colour, and as such you must wear it on your person in public, marking you out as lesser. Unable to bear the humiliation of it, you convinced your nurses to sew golden thread into your epaulettes, marking you with the colour of the Emperor.

You pull on your various ceremonial accoutrements, waving to your crone of a maid Drusilla to come and sort your hair. To mark yourself as of barbarian stock, you must wear your hair long, and so you must order her to brush it, comb it, and then to conceal it within the collar of your robe. The black, silken robe is placed over your still sloping shoulders, not longer than your legs, and well tailored. A belt of ox-hide pulls the clothing taut, and, finally, a jade insignia brooch is placed to seal the front of your robe closed, the jade marking you as an Imperial Prince. You swell with pride at the cool touch of the stone and wave away Drusilla out of your presence.

You steel yourself for a moment. The Empress Dowager despises even the legitimate, consort-born children of her son, and has, according to rumour, even had one or two killed. The crow-like old woman is feared throughout the capital for her ruthlessness, and you have a great deal to fear in her presence, though you may not see it at first. You must prepare yourself.

>How do you ready yourself for the dinner?
>Take a small leather bag, concealed in the small pouch within your robes, in which to conceal uneaten food. This provides a good way to escape poisoned food?
>Take a small dagger. Weapons are illegal within the city, but, hidden beneath your robes, it will likely not be noticed, and may save your life?
Cont.

>Take a gift for the Empress dowager, a jade token. You will need her favour if you are to advance anywhere in the Imperial government.
>Wear a prince's diadem. It is not against protocol for you, a son of the Emperor, to wear this fine crown of plain silver, but the Empress Dowager will be furious. You will be directly asserting yourself against her will, a dangerous proposition.
>Take something else? (Within reason, write in)

>>1666410
>>Take a small leather bag, concealed in the small pouch within your robes, in which to conceal uneaten food. This provides a good way to escape poisoned food

Wear MANY layers to conceal the pouch as well as possible

>>1666422
Change my vote actually
>Take a gift for the Empress dowager, a jade token. You will need her favour if you are to advance anywhere in the Imperial government.

>>1666410
>Take a small leather bag, concealed in the small pouch within your robes, in which to conceal uneaten food. This provides a good way to escape poisoned food?

>>1666422
>Wear a prince's diadem. It is not against protocol for you, a son of the Emperor, to wear this fine crown of plain silver, but the Empress Dowager will be furious. You will be directly asserting yourself against her will, a dangerous proposition.

>>1666429
Change your vote from what?

>>1666422
Take the food and bring the crown it's in our right for it

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You take a small, plain leather bag from one of your side tables and insert it into a carefully concealed pocket on your thigh, well concealed by your robe, You have dealt with a poisoning attempt once before, though you do not quite know by whom, and it pays to be prepared. It would not do to leave your plate filled, or to spit out food, and so a bag for disposal becomes necessary. You take a small jade icon out from your safety deposit box, a sandalwood box, with an intricately carved design of a spiralling dragon around the lock. The icon is not an immensely valuable one, but it is a sign of submission and will make a fitting gift to your social superior. You feel safe with what you have, but a bubble of repressed dissatisfaction chooses this moment to rise and burst in your throat, the sting of bile in your mind driving you to spite the old hag by reaching out for your silver diadem, taking the plain band from a rich cushion, and placing it into your thick red hair.

You call to Lan-Xi, your Eunuch, and have him follow behind you, in the style of a young nobleman, and you set out into the expanse of the Imperial Palace. The tedium of even a walk in the palace on a hot summer night absorbs you for perhaps half an hour, proceeding between eunuchs, waiting as your own Eunuch determines with another Eunuch whether you or his master is a higher rank, and therefore is allowed to pass first. The court is an intricate and poorly oiled machine, and you both revel in the superiority it grants you over the servile eunuchs, and revolt against the tedium and misery of the thing.

It can't be avoided, but eventually, you arrive in the Stillichine Palace, the residence of the Empress Dowager, to be referred to as Rongxin Ma, Honoured Mother, or simply Chongjin, Revered One. You dismiss Lan-Xi with a practised wave, and proceed into the hall alone, as is custom. You are guided by the smiling, painted women of the court, the "daughters" of the Chongjin. They are beautiful, one and all, elegant and with a brightness about them that left you, the first time you saw them, in awe. At least six of your "mothers" the consorts of the Emperor are drawn from that stock. They guide you to a cushioned seat, at the bastard's table. The long, richly glossed and painted table depicts a battle between the Jade Lord and the Dragon Jin-Lung, and you look over it with a smile before looking out at the assortment of bastards around you, all in plain black. You are placed near the head of the table, as among the oldest bastards of the court, nearest to the raised palanquin-seating for princes, dukes and for the Empress-Dowager herself.

Below you at the table are empty seats and infants yet in their cradles, being nursed, and above you are the brothers Li, nephews of the Emperor, and your cousins. They are of Fu-Tze stock, and look at you with disdain, prompting you to swell out your chest, revealing the glimmering golden threads interspersed in your black silk robe. Cont.

>>1666560
I deleted it, liked something better

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You turn from them before seeing their response, your face returning to the blank, disdainful expression required of you. Your eye, now free of the Daughters, you look out and see the seven rows of tables across the room, all with their own artistic murals as your own, and all clustered around with those noblemen and women of different ranks. The first table to the left, closest to the external wall of the palace, is your own, a shimmering sea of black robes and black swaddling clothes for infants, served by white clothed nurses and eunuchs. The next table bears the barons, the military nobility of the empire, adorned in the imperial yellow. To a man much older than the bastards, ranging from the eldest, bearded generals at the head, and puffed-out lieutenants at the end, each man fighting not to sit at the very end of the table, and to catch the eyes of the daughters. It is believed that these soldiers are best sat next to the bastards in order to ensure the universally evil bastards do not commit any crimes against polite company. Their entire table is an insult to you, and a stinging one, since the next table beyond them is the table of maidens.

The court maidens are an object of fascination for you, in your youth, not the same obsession your older peers seem to have for them. They are concealed mysteries, outside of your eyes. The standard regalia for maidens is long silken robes of a myriad of colours, adorned with white and red lilies, faces hidden by long, perfectly smooth black hair, and by the ubiquitous privacy fans. You know nothing of the eyes that hide behind these fans, never having had cause to see a truly blooming maiden, but you have heard tales of their almost celestial beauty. You look out over the table beyond the yellow-mantled soldiers, and to your surprise, catch a glimpse of a cheek behind a fan. Even at this distance, you see the flush of red behind the dusted skin, and your fascination only grows. You lean back and look up at the jade adornments of the ceiling, the entire thing a mural to the ancestors of Chongjin. You hear, distantly, behind the rough soldier's tones, the song-like whisper of the maidens tables, and then the crones tables behind them, adorned in blue, and the nobles tables along behind them, all adorned in a sea of colour, illuminated by flickering red and black lanterns, held in the rafters from shimmering silver and gold hooks, high in the distant jade ceiling, until the room seems to twinkle.

Presiding over all the assembly is Chongjin herself, raised on yellow and gold cushions atop her covered palanquin. He raven's face, aquiline and predatory, sweeps over the crowd with acidic disdain, and you are ready to be scrutinised, only to observe her being called away. It seems as if no-one else sees her as she is drawn away by a "daughter", and you are certain that, as she stands in a shaded corner, you are the only one in the hall to see her face drop as something is whispered to her. Cont.

Lads, you would not believe the 3000 character post I just accidentally deleted by pressing backspace when not focused on the right window. I'm contemplating suicide.

>>1666728
can you go back? please tell me you're using writing tool that saves your progress and you copy and paste it. Personally, I'd use google docs

She does not return to her Palanquin, instead choosing to retreat out through a back door of the great hall. You take in a short gasp, quiet enough not to be noticeable to the Li brothers. You do not know that something has happened, at least not yet, and it is hardly abnormal for the Chongjin to withdraw to deal with Imperial matters of administration, nor for these matters to be unpleasant enough to provoke her drop in expression, but you feel something off. You look for the messenger-daughter and see her resting in a servant's chair by the wall, her face covered by a fan, but clearly despondent from her posture, concealed by her sisters. Whatever news there was will not stay secret for long.

Your worry only grows when you see the Grand Secretary rise to the Chongjin's palanquin, raising his short arms to signal for silence. The wave of quiet spreads out across the room, relayed by hushed voices until all falls silent, hundreds of faces looking up at the short, unassuming man, marvelling, each and every one, at the power held by such a diminutive figure. People seem shocked to hear him speak, to feel the drip of his oil-like voice spread out in a wave, again relayed by hushed whispers.

"Let us have a moment of silence for our Divine Majesty, who even now duels with the depredations and ravages of disease"

You do not notice it until a moment after it has passed, but you realise that the Grand Secretary had been looking directly at you as he said the word duels, as if trying to tell you something. He is a weasely man, sly and untrustworthy to most, but he has always been your only point of contact with your father, and he has always treated you better than most officials, even inviting you to his personal banquets. You remember having even sat beside him at tea one evening when you were nought more than five. You remember fondly his brown eyes smiling down at you as he played at tea with you, teaching you subtly the ways of the tea table.

For once, you feel that perhaps you may be able to trust him, at least in that there is something wrong. Deeply so. And that you are involved, in a way you do not yet understand. You must act.

>How?
>Try to find out what is happening from the messenger-daughter. She is likely loyal to Chongjin, but is a member of the servile classes, and may do as you command. You risk being seen to pull aside a maiden of the court, and the dishonour that incurs.
>Try to get a message to the Grand Secretary via your Eunuch. You can likely trust Lan-Xi, and you doubt the Grand Secretary employs untrustworthy men. This risks the least embarrassment, but the Secretary may still have meant nothing by his look, making you seem a fool to him.
>You could risk going to the palanquin to ask the Grand Secretary yourself. This obviously risks mass humiliation, but is the fastest and most obvious way to ask. You may be more sympathetic in person.
>Something Else? (Write in)

(Roll a d100 for each action to determine success)

>>1666731
That would be a wise choice my friend, but it is not a choice I have made, idiot that I am.

Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>1666760
>Try to get a message to the Grand Secretary via your Eunuch. You can likely trust Lan-Xi, and you doubt the Grand Secretary employs untrustworthy men. This risks the least embarrassment, but the Secretary may still have meant nothing by his look, making you seem a fool to him.

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>1666760
>Try to get a message to the Grand Secretary via your Eunuch. You can likely trust Lan-Xi, and you doubt the Grand Secretary employs untrustworthy men. This risks the least embarrassment, but the Secretary may still have meant nothing by his look, making you seem a fool to him.

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>1666803
>>1666769
seconded.

>>1666807
Wow.

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>>1666807
BASTARD EMPRAH

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>>1666807

>>1666822
Beauty truly dwells in unexpected places

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You gesture to Lan-Xi, who stands a way behind you and ask him to give you message paper and a pencil. You quickly pen a note to the Grand Secretary in elegant terms, asking him what is the matter, and managing to address him in the correct ceremonial terms even in this quickly penned note. You hand the missive to Lan-Xi, and nod to the eunuch, sending him walking, with the perfectly elegant posture of a trained Eunuch, to behind the palanquin. You wait for a tense few minutes before you see the Grand Secretary reach out behind himself, very subtly, taking your note into his hands. You see him quickly look at it, then at you, in surprise.

He nods, almost imperceptibly to you, and before you notice the movements of his hands, he has handed a note back to his own Eunuch, without having seemed, to the crowd at large, to have moved at all. Within a minute, Lan-Xi returns, handing you a note. You carefully read it and restrain yourself from surprise as you do.

"Your time has come, My Lord. Meet me in ten minutes in the corridor to the left of the Chenzhou Palace. Do not breathe a word."

At the base of the missive, most shocking of all is a small, coin-shaped token of pure gold, concealed in the scroll. An Imperial Seal. The Grand Secretary's seal itself. Something has changed.

You wait a few seconds before rising to your feet, exchanging pleasantries with the nurse seated to your left, before departing, leaving Lan-Xi to clean your seat for you. You walk with the perfect decorum you have been trained for, betraying nothing at all in your expression, and escaping the chamber unnoticed. It takes a few minutes of careful, roundabout walking, but you arrive in the small, interior corridor mentioned in the letter, to find the Grand Secretary, and a complement of royal guards, bound in red plated brigandines and bearing broad rectangular shields, with horsehair plumes on their helmets. Their weapons are not ceremonial.

"You must listen, and you must do as I say"

The Grand Secretary's voice, now flowing like cooling iron flows through you, and you are almost in shock as you listen to him.

"Your father is dead. Assassinated, poisoned weeks ago. The Empress has yet to act, but the Empress Dowager has taken the imperial seal and intends to crown Prince Li-Ma. Your father, however, chose you. And I am loyal to your father. I owed him, and owe you, loyalty. I swear an oath on my own and my clan's blood that I will serve you loyally, my Emperor. You must claim the throne before your Grandmother can. There is still time if we act fast."

You follow him without thinking, as the guards close rank around you. You are the Son of Heaven. You are Emperor of fifty million souls. You are the lord of all you survey, a god in all but name. No, not yet. You think, darkly, that this is a moment of choice.

>Claim your birthright and follow the Grand Secretary
>Write in.

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>>1666893
>Claim your birthright and follow the Grand Secretary
What other choice is there really?

>>1666901
There are other factions to be found in the capital if you should seek them out.

>>1666893
>Claim your birthright and follow the Grand Secretary

>>1666901
naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, you don't waste a perfectly good 100 man

>>1666901
Claiming of course
>>1666913
Even if they are, he is the one who has seek us first and provided with support. What would claiming our birthrigth entail, anyway?

Screaming thta we declare ourselves as a potential inheritor to the throne or start gathering allies and forming a sick faction?

Calming your birthright is just the general act of trying to claim the throne, either getting to the Dragon Throne itself, receiving the regalia and being crowned before Li-Ma can be, or assassinating your opponent. There is no time to build a faction. Actions will be in a time frame of minutes for the time being, at least until the throne has been claimed. Whether the actual claiming of the throne will put you in control of the country is not certain, and the opposition of your opponents in high office will be an issue for a long time.

With our decision made, I have to go to sleep. Thanks for your participation so far, I look forward to continuing soon.

>>1666952
This quest looks great. Will you continue with it tomorrow?

>>1666957
I intend to, yes.

>>1666952
That was cool. Thanks for the run mate. Hope to catch it tommorrow

>>1666952

Quest looks pretty sweet, are you going to be continuing it?

>>1666893
>Claim your birthright and follow the Grand Secretary

>>1666952

Nice thread OP, made me nostalgic for Dyansty Warriors 2.

>>1666893
>Claim your birthright, but first, some questions...

The Bastard accepts the Grand Secretary's fealty with a solemn nod. He does not speak hurriedly, feeling the need both to buy himself a few moments to remain clear and level-headed, as well as to assert his own control of the situation so as not to be merely whisked away by the official. The prince suddenly became aware of the diadem on his brow, but resisted the urge to touch or adjust it.

"I am pleased that there still exist men of morals with regard for primogeniture. How have you planned for us to proceed, Grand Secretary?"

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>>1673886

The Grand Secretary nods to you, before bowing to his knees and signalling to one of his servile guards. The man hands him a small cushion, upon which sits the jade seal of an imperial prince, a disc, marked with the words "Loyal and Pious, The Grand-Son of Heaven". You take the disc, and the silk band threaded through a small hole in it, wearing it over your neck. You speak calmly, your young voice clear, after you have taken the time to think, and the Grand Secretary nods before replying, in a servile tone.

"It is vital that the son of heaven and myself seize power. If he acts quickly, he may be crowned before Li-Ma may be, but there are... other options. I have a portion of the imperial guard ready at hand, as many as the Empress Dowager. I cannot promise your forces would succeed in an outright battle, but we may put them to other uses. The usurper Li-Ma is safe, but we may be able to seize his mother, the Consort Li-Fu. The other forces in the capital may be amiable to a deal if you are willing to give them sufficient gifts. It is your choice, oh divine one, but you must choose quickly."

>THESE CHOICES REQUIRE YOUR PRESENCE AND ARE EXCLUSIVE

>Rush to the Dragon Throne to be crowned. Once crowned, the Imperial Regalia will be granted to you, and you will be named Emperor, but the Imperial seal will still be out of your grasp.
>Try to make a deal with one of the garrison commanders to seize military control of the capital.

>These Choices can be undertaken via your new subordinates, though you risk undermining yourself by sending too many troops.

>Capture Li-Ma, the usurper's, mother for ransom. Li-Ma may, however, be replaced if he does not co-operate with the Chongjin
>Attempt to assassinate the Empress Dowager
>Attempt to seize the Empress Dowager's palace by force.
>Assasinate Li-Ma himself.

>>1674083

>Rush to the Dragon Throne to be crowned. Once crowned, the Imperial Regalia will be granted to you, and you will be named Emperor, but the Imperial seal will still be out of your grasp.


>Capture Li-Ma, the usurper's, mother for ransom. Li-Ma may, however, be replaced if he does not co-operate with the Chongjin

>>1674083
>Rush to the Dragon Throne to be crowned. Once crowned, the Imperial Regalia will be granted to you, and you will be named Emperor, but the Imperial seal will still be out of your grasp.

>Capture Li-Ma, the usurper's, mother for ransom. Li-Ma may, however, be replaced if he does not co-operate with the Chongjin

>>1674106

>Try to make a deal with one of the garrison commanders to seize military control of the capital.

No amount of soft power can stop an Army. People are going to argue under our backs about our legitimacy as Emperor and no amount of "soft power" from being the first one crowned can change that.

>Attempt to seize the Empress Dowager's palace by force.

If we are going to rule, this woman must go. Poisoners will not be tolerated under our reign, and a demonstration of force will surely cow any potential would-be assassins from meddling with dangerous substances.

>>1674245

However, getting enough money to pay the troops is important. I will add then >Capture Li-Ma, the usurper's, mother for ransom. Li-Ma may, however, be replaced if he does not co-operate with the Chongjin

This way, we will be able to get political leverage and a rainy day fund in the form of a ransom.

>>1674101
>>1674106
Thirded.

>>1674245
It is the act of seizing power through brute force that will always keep them talking about our base origins. The less blood we shed during our accession, the more solid and just our reign will look from the outside. The Empress Dowager is in the same position as we are as far as strength goes, and shares the same risks of being branded as a ruthless grasper. Her poisoning the late Emperor is not common knowledge, and using that against her would appear an obvious ploy.

We must wield morals and our own legitimacy as our first weapon, and hold sidelining our junior siblings and the Empress Dowager as our first priority.

>>1674387
What morals or legitimacy? We are a bastard. Our legitimacy is non-existent and we are thought to be evil no-matter how we act. If we try to claim the throne,no matter how, people will still think that we did it unlawfully, as we have no place in the imperial line.

While all the pretenders are busy thinking what jewelry will they wear for their coronation, we will busy gathering the troops to take control of the palace and slay them (you know, the actual way of getting the throne is killing or exiling everyone who opposes you)

Do you remember the nickname our maid devised for us? Hong-Xirong, Warlike Red-Haired Barbarian.

No matter if we keep our whole imperial life doing the right thing and what they expect us to do, we will still be a barbarian.

And you know the thing about barbarians? No one dares to mess with hem, as they know that true power resides on the blase of a sword and not in the musings or whispers of some petty courtiers.

>>1674083
>>Try to make a deal with one of the garrison commanders to seize military control of the capital.
>Attempt to seize the Empress Dowager's palace by force.

>>1674083
>>Try to make a deal with one of the garrison commanders to seize military control of the capital.
>>Capture Li-Ma, the usurper's, mother for ransom. Li-Ma may, however, be replaced if he does not co-operate with the Chongjin

>>1674426
Agreed, we're going to have to rule out of fear.

>seize military control

>seize empress dowager's palace

I'll be back for a solid session this evening. We shall not tolerate traitors, it seems.

>>1674083
>>Try to make a deal with one of the garrison commanders to seize military control of the capital.
>Assasinate Li-Ma himself.

we are a bastard with little legitamacy for us to take power legitametly all legitimate heirs must be either imprisoned or killed so as not to plunge the country into a civil war

Where is opee

well I mean it lasted more than 20 posts