Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20191124214112/@comment-5543592-20191126154355

The Clockwork Thrones
Diagna was smug. He slouched in his throne, legs kicked over one of the arms. Six of the twelve thrones were empty, leaving the HoonDing, Leki, Sep, Ruptga, Diagna, and Tu’whacca.

Leki had her sword drawn and lain across her knees. She drummed her fingers on the blade, eyes locked on Sep, who was grinning back at her.

“That’s two artifacts now.” Diagna announced. “You all saw. And with barely a hitch.”

Leki did a so-so gesture.

“This is typically the part where it gets spicy.” Sep said. “You know how these things go. Early success, then something tragic happens, a series of brief and underwhelming victories, climax, and then a final triumph over evil that is ultimately temporary because mortals are short-sighted.”

“Typically, these world-saving types are pretty dysfunctional.” Diagna conceded. “But I’ve got a good feeling about these ones.”

“I liked when they got turned into animals.” Sep said, lips peeling back, grinning like a snake. “I wrote the first of those books, you know. They’re a brain child of mine. Oh, also, sky races. Those gryphons have nothing me. Racing Ansei on the steppe of Akos Kasaz. Something else. I always won, of course, unlike that team of losers you’ve got there, Diagna.”

Leki remained carefully quiet. Each finger came down with a little more force.

“They’ve been made stronger.” Diagna said. “Look at how things have progressed so far. Odds have been leaning steadily in their favour. I mean aside from those chumps in Oblivion, there’s not really anyone opposing them. Their biggest obstacle so far has been a puzzle.”

“It was a hard puzzle.” Sep pointed out. “A nail-biter of a puzzle.”

“They are weak, it nearly broke them.” Leki insisted. “They will not survive what lies ahead. A woman’s worth is measured in her strength. Her strength is measured by her endurance and drive. Each step along the way they have faltered, stalled, reluctantly forced themselves onwards. They lack determination. Without true hearts, they will be unable to make sacrifices.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll do fine.” Diagna waved a careless hand. “The greatest heroes are rarely the most ambitious ones. If there’s a man, one driven by his desire for something, if he’s got passion. Well, he’s going to walk right over whatever’s in his way, no matter what it is, and flatten it beneath him. He’ll get to the end and say ‘look what I did,’ but he wrecked everything behind him. Just because a victory’s hardwon doesn’t mean it’s a good thing. But if you’ve got people who are thoughtful, who hesitate and agonize over their every decision, then they don’t wreck quite as much. Sacrifice is nice, but it’s often frivolous. Someone who’s quick to sacrifice isn’t necessarily the person who should be making that call.”

“You’re like them.” Leki said. “If they had their choice, they would be slothful. Content to watch and do nothing. They have said as much, have voiced their displeasure. Only their leader possesses the strength to do what is necessary and yet it is made clear that she is the most disposable of them.”

Diagna shrugged. “If she didn’t need them, she’d have left them in the dust. She’d feel guilt, I’m sure, but guilt fades. I see them as her… moral compass. To remind her of her humanity. Each of them serve a purpose, spokes of the wheel. Pull out one, it loses integrity.”

“Only way to test one’s true mettle is through failure. Repeated and merciless failure. Each time you get up, you will be knocked down. But you must rise again and again.” Leki stated. “The hotter the fire, the stronger the metal.”

“Says you.” Diagna pulled his hands out from behind his head and shifted in his throne to face the beach. He scooped up a pebble, turned it about in his fingers. “I much prefer the ocean. It soothes you, smooths away your imperfections, until you’ve become what you were always meant to be.” He threw it at water, arching it over Tu’whacca’s head, and watched it skip across the ocean’s surface.

“You speak of complacency.” Ruptga rumbled, resting his chin on a fist. “Of turning with the tides, until they are finished with you.”

“Exactly.” Diagna snapped his fingers. “The Daedra have one thing right. The world is chaos. Anything you make out of it will evidently be worn away. But that can be to your advantage, if what you wanted always lay below the surface.”

“I fail to see the difference between your thought and mine.” Leki said. “Except in, perhaps, the uselessness of what you propose.”

“No.” Diagna held up a finger. “Not useless. You say that with each failure, you must rise. I disagree. Let the failure knock you down, and let it keep you there. Let it defeat so completely and so absolutely that you give no thought to a second attempt. At first. But you will bide your time, and you will lay there, and lay there still. And, one day, perhaps soon, perhaps not, there will come a moment. One in which victory is certain, when the path to it is clear. And then you will rise, without effort, and walk calmly to it.” Diagna held up a hand to her. “It’s a much pleasanter thought than yours.”

Leki seemed to consider the idea, but only for a moment before rejecting it. “I disagree. Pleasant, does not mean better. Not all hard won victories are worthwhile, perhaps, but all worthwhile victories are hard won. This I know.”

Diagna smiled, and accepted her logic with a nod. He lifted a hand now to the ocean, and the events they watched unfolding beyond. “Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”