Hanord Mendelebrot the Grand Master of Artistry, Emperor of Thera

Role

Chapter 12

I stand here, scribbling surreptitiously, while Charlee weds Uial.
I am the best man, in more ways than one of course.

The entire scene makes me sick. And yet, it has inspired me. I finally have
the courage to do what I've wanted to for so very long.

Goodbye, Thera. I'm coming, Mother. I'm coming, Father.

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Role

Chapter 11

Had an interesting conversation with Sand recently. I told it I hated
it, and it claimed to hate me too. We talked about how kissing the Dread
Lady after I forced her to don flesh was ruined by her having a mouthful
of sand. And how sand gets into the worst places that is just isn't meant
to be in. I'm not sure why Sand hates me, though.

I cut myself shaving this morning. Well, rather, one of the Imperial
concubines did. She screamed, wept, and begged for forgiveness. I merely
looked at her, but soon the Mistress of the Concubines came to see what
the screaming was about, summoned guards, and had her hauled away to be...
something. It doesn't really matter.

The point is, it was a fairly deep cut. On my neck. Perhaps she did it on
purpose. I can't really make myself care. I'm losing my fear of death, as
I get older.

Someone impersonated me and wrote some rather stupid scrolls to the Empire.
Some nonsense about a decree about having to own a pet. I quickly penned
a scroll reversing the decree. I don't dare command the Imperial Armies to
search for the imposter, though...they'll use it as an excuse to pull me down.

They are all trying to do it. They pledge allegiance but the way they shift
their eyes...I can't trust them. Any of them.

I want to die. They want me to die. Nobody wants me alive. Perhaps father would
have. But he's dead. Would be dead even if he was alive, I'm so old...does that
make sense?

Make me die...

Role

Chapter 10

As you can see by his most recent addition to his memoires, Hanord is beginning to go slightly
mad. Likely prolonged alcohol abuse, combined with old age (68 at the time of his last entry),
and all of the trappings of the office of Emperor have addled his mind slightly. Only on
occasion does this slight madness slip out - the note to Empire about finding a way to make
the Imperial Codex retrieve itself, for instance.

But things may get worse.

Role

Chapter 9

the Imperial Assassin: Citizens, the Imperial Codex will not retrieve itself.

A good point, that. We need to rectify that. Surely with all of the brilliant minds
of the Imperial army, someone can come up with some mystical-or-otherwise way to create
an Imperial Codex that will retrieve itself. I will send a scroll without delay, ordering
it done.

Ah, Udgaardian Red. Such a good vintage.

Now, where was I. Ah yes. The Imperial Codex. It's resided where it should a lot more,
recently. Certainly the occasional barbarian horde comes to plunder it, be they Village
or Tree folk. But definitely not as often as in the past. All part of the growth of my
Empire.

......

Picking up where I left off - had to make a trip to the Imperial Concubine lair, don't
you know. Yes, right. My Empire is strong.

I find myself not quite as miserable as I used to be. Perhaps the pain is dulling. Perhaps
I care so little about mother and father, now, that the pain and anger aren't there. Or
perhaps its the alcohol and concubines. Hmm. Alcohol on one hand. Concubines on the other.

Put your hands together, Emperor Hanord!

Now then, I wonder if anyone will ever read this.

I'm not miserable, but I'm sure going to keep acting like it. Look where it's gotten me so
far.

I need a drink. More later. Praise Enlilth!

Role

Chapter 8

I find ruling to be a small comfort in this miserable wasteland we call "life."
Alcohol, women, and now, power over the Empire are my vices, and my only
escapes from the ashen landscape of my soul. The fallen leaves on the path
I walk are rotten and fetid. The clouds above bring cold droplets of death
while the coins in my pocket fill me with a lust only for more. Ckath wished
to lead a party into Hell. He does not realize that we are already in Hell.

The barbarian hordes have been tempered, the great bellowing giant brought
low by Imperial aggression. We continue to smash them into the damp,
rotting dirt. The Fortress may as well not exist, now that the Dwarf Ghrajjek
has taken his own life. The Refuge is but a shadow of its former self, and
the rest of the enemies of the Empire cower when we mighty ones walk.

And yet I feel nothing but a hollow, vacant hole in my soul.

Ah, firebreather. My only true companion. Let me have a few sips of you.

Ah, that's better. I can continue with life again.

The Imperial forces swell - perhaps not in number, but in competance.
The Dread Lady has successfully incubated and will be, I hope, a force to
be reckoned with in the future. Things go well.

Role

Chapter 7

Convincing the Council had been as easy - and as difficult - as I had expected.
The meeting with Venphoria was the easiest - her disdain for Ckath had been fairly
evident for quite a while. She even interrupted my carefully prepared speech for
why this wasn't betrayal of the Empire, why I was the best choice, and so on, to
tell me "Save your speech, you have my vote already. What is your plan?"

That was actually a little annoying. I'd worked hard on that speech. But I think
she might have smiled at me at some point. That much emotion displayed by the
cold, calculating Dread Lady might as well have been a deep, wet kiss by any other
woman.

I know she will vote for me, and will not waver.


Vintus wasn't difficult either. He valued strength, of course, but also he valued
allies. Ckath is strong, but what good is that strength when it is never around to
be used against our enemies? With me, Vintus knows what he's getting. Someone who
will listen well to his desires, who is not off sleeping in his bedchambers more
often than not, and has a strong successor for the War Master spot.

Vintus pledged to vote for me. One who is such a strong priest of Lord Enlilth is
not likely to make a pledge and then break it.

Plus, he knows that if he doesn't vote for me, Ckath might win, which will mean all
of us are Anathema.


Dhugral. Ah, Dhugral, you backed the wrong horse. Ckath's untimely knowledge of the
Vote can only mean that you clued him in. All the while telling me that if I voted
for you, you'd vote for me. You were playing it too cagey.

It'll make me a bit sad to make you Anathema. If it comes to that. Word in the taverns
is that you've already taken your own life. Likely you saw how matters were going to
play out and knew you were doomed.


My first act as Emperor will be to have a drink. Or several.


The part Ckath does not understand, nor will he ever, I think, is that of course I'm
not the best choice for Emperor. He'll probably make one last-ditch effort to change
the minds of Venphoria and Vintus. He'll say I'm weak. I'm a drunkard. I'm a betrayer.
Lazy. Shiftless. A scoundrel. The list may go on and on. But nothing he can accuse me
of, true or false, will overcome my greatest asset, the greatest reason to vote for me:

I am not Ckath.

Role

Chapter 6

I'm War Master now. I'm not quite sure how that happened. One day I'm nothing
more than a Blade, not even considered Elite. I even owe the Emperor money. Next
day, I pay the Emperor, but decide to add a bit of avian-demon fecal matter to my
nose and pay him double what he told me I owe him. He grinned and promoted me to Elite.

A few days later, I ask him how I can convince him to make me War Master. I expect
some answer like "Ha!" or some such. Perhaps I make him giggle enough that he makes me
Imperial Court Jester or something. Instead, he basically says he'll give me a shot, just impress
him somehow. Something "original." Hooo kay...

So, my apparent competition for the position, Korewen, shows up, and the Emperor decides
to have us battle to the death for the position. We get side-tracked by idiot Fortress
goons for a while, during which Korewen privately asks me if I have any potions to see
the invisible, and I don't, and I tell him, and shortly after we're to duel to the Death
in the Imperial Lands under a blood reckoning.

And I just happened to have some potions of invisibility. Korewen learns the lesson
that this entire existence is unfair, cruel, and barely worth even living, and I
impress the Emperor and become War Master.

I still don't like him, though.

Role

Chapter 5

Kurzghar, Fire Giant Elite Blade. I like him. Stupid enough to manipulate, cunning
enough to understand he's being manipulated and not care, because he's strong.

Zubei, Felar Elite Blade. I like him too. Probably the next War Master.

Korewen, Arial Elite Blade. A bit of a moron. Overly cheerful. Acts as if he is
wise in the ways of the world and combat. Then doesn't know how to get to the Tree
to retrieve the Codex from the Outlanders. I see demotion in his future. The way this
world is, though, he'll probably be the next War Master. Sigh.

Gvantulak, female Bard Blade. A little old for my tastes, but friendly and
competant.

Vintus, Fire Giant Divine. One of my closest allies outside the Blade Sect.
Quite competant, strong, and likely the next High Priest.

Dhugral, Duergar Shadow. One of the only two Shadows I like having around that I can
think of. The Marshall absolutely tears this one apart, though, so he's somewhat
useless a lot of the time.

Jiomar, Human Thief Shadow. I despise this one. He's an idiot, who then calls
others idiots. He assaulted me while I was an Oath. Pretended it was an accident.
I fog him out of the shadows every chance I get. I make as if it is an accident. I also
took his gold when he fell at the Tree. Serves the bastard right. I'll do it again, too.
The way this world is, he'll probably end up the next Shadow Lord. Sigh, again.

Role

Chapter 4

Molo, the War Master, seems to be dead. He was a good enough War Master. Stupid,
and promoting those who were even more stupid, but relatively fair, and strong.
He'll be missed. By someone. I'm sure of it.

Kruizinel, the High Priest, soon won't be, I think. You're a priest of the Great
Lord Enlilth, High Priest of his grand Empire, and you...go to Hell for the mark of
Satan? Idiot. Vintus should be replacing him any day, I predict.

Venphoria, the Dread Lady. I like her. Other than the fact that I'm fairly sure she
is a lesbian - she finds me anything but charming, and none but those who prefer to
place their tongues in the hidden valley of pleasure could be capable of that.
She's a bit...inexperienced in some ways, too. But competant, and I believe she
sees this world as the big tragic ball of misery that it is...a kindred spirit,
perhaps? Besides, we both like women. Probably.

There is no Shadow Lord. That's probably a good thing. I don't like many of them.

Role

Chapter 3

Emperor Ckath seems a bit of a disappointment, to me. Whereas most leaders, upon arriving
to take command of their troops, bring a sense of increased morale and a general "everything
is going to be all right" feel, with the Emperor, the reverse is often true. His
presence is announced by the council as he joins us, and my personal feeling is
"Damn." He leads us into battles that should be avoided, and avoids battles that
should be fought.

Oops. Got a bit sidetracked. While writing this down, the Emperor decided to mount a rather
ill-fated attempt at the Orb. Ageryn naturally dispelled me and, with me half dead from fighting
the Watcher, I fell. Now I owe the Emperor 100 gold for buying my equipment back from some...
It doesn't matter. The entire episode simply restores my feeling of "Damn." when the Emperor
awakens.

Of course he knows none of this. As far as he is concerned, I am his man, and each death I am glad
to give, my life for his. Fool. I serve the Empire, not him. I tell him they are one and the same.

Role

Chapter 2

The fact is, Hanord (as he's come to be known since joining the ranks of
the Blade Sect) is rather despondent. The only thing he has worth living
for, he believes, is the Empire.

He'd like to just crawl into a bottle and die, but something will not allow
that - he wishes to succeed within the Imperial ranks, and a despondent drunkard
is unlikely to do so.

Still, on occasion, he may allow his pessimistic view of life slip into
casual conversation. For instance, one should not be surprised if he laments
how much he misses his father's balls.

The dancing, the beautiful women, the music, the drink, the food...Hanord's
father definitely knew how to throw a glamorous ball.

Role

Chapter 1

Handorge Mendelebrot might be considered the stereotypical rich kid. His parents were
merchants, in Hamsah. Originally "neutral" in their dealings, they soon learned that
more coin was to be had by doing certain things that were less than charitable.

Well, the merchants had been in a good enough odor with the members of the Fortress
until the day that they had done enough shady things to earn themselves the ill-will
of the gods of Light. That day, the Fortress decided that their "red aura" was too
offensive, and destroyed them.

Handorge, a young man by that time, was filled with hate. But he decided that his
hate would best be directed toward his natural talents. In his father's court, he
had his choice of any damsel he wished. And he wished for many, at different times.
His good looks, charm, and beautiful singing voice had earned him quite a reputation.

He made his mind up. With no family fortune to speak of, he was forced to become
one of the rather lowly "adventurers" that had been mocked during various balls and
galas that he attended.

He would indeed make them rue the day they ruined his life.

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