Storythread - Christmas Edition

With Christmas fast approaching, what better was to get into the festive spirit than a bunch of Christmas-themed stories? I mean, apart from alcohol

(Non-holiday-themed stories are still welcome too, of course)

This is a thread for creative writing of Veeky Forums-related fiction, so epic campaign greentexts and other non-fiction go elsewhere. If you have Veeky Forums related stories to post, post them here, and hopefully some kind user will give you feedback (or at least acknowledge that someone did actually read it, which let's face it is what writefags really want).

What counts as Veeky Forums-related? Anything someone could plausibly use in a campaign (which means basically anything if you have enough imagination).

If you don't have a story ready then I and other anons will be posting pictures throughout the thread for you to test your writing skills on. This is, more or less, a world-building and character-building exercise: two vital skills for playing roleplaying games. If you don't have any pics to post, you could try posting an idea for a setting or a character, and maybe someone will be willing to write a story using it. It's also an exercise in writing though, where writefags can try out their material and gain inspiration, so if you just want to talk about world-building you may want to head over to the dedicated world-building threads.

Remember that writefags love to have feedback on their work. Writing takes a long time, especially stories that go over several posts, and it can be really depressing when no one even seems to read it (and the writer won't know you read it unless you leave a comment).

And since writing takes a long time remember to keep the thread bumped. Pics are good, feedback is better.

There is a discord for writers:
discord.gg/6AwKHGF

The previous thread can still be found in the archive here
Don't forget to check out past stories on our wiki page:
1d4chan.org/wiki/Storythread

Other urls found in this thread:

pastebin.com/MEMW5NCc
twitter.com/AnonBabble

>How do you guys handle writing adventure/fantasy-scifu stories with multiple protagonists acting in a group?
It's very tricky, and the unhelpful answer is that it's unique to every story. The simplest thing to do is to write whatever you want to write and then read it over and see if any of the characters don't feel as strong as others.

>Do you try and make sure to avoid certain archetypes that come with this sort of mechanic?
archetypes can sometimes be a helpful shorthand that makes it easier for the audience to keep track of large numbers of characters. Obviously once you've established the broad strokes of what they are, you can fill in the details for more subtlety.

You can of course disregard archetypes entirely and that's perfectly fine, but some writers might assume that archetypes are unsophisticated by their nature and discard them out of hand, without considering that some archetypes exist for a reason.

I haven't forgotten about this. I thought about writing something for it, but I'm still busy with Christmas stuff so I doubt I'll get to it for a while, if at all.

...

...

Though the adage goes "There's no place like home", I cannot feel that this place is my home. This husk does not remind me of the highlands of Macragge where my adoptive father found me. This does not remind me of Calth, where I first met the legion that would become mine. No, the only memories I have of Terra are all strictly business.

And now, after over ten thousand years, I find myself back on Terra, resuming the rule of an empire I fear has only worsened with time. The people of Imperium welcome me in with open arms, the so-called High Lords have stepped aside to allow me passage where I wish, and even the lowest of Terra's dregs have greeted me as if unto a king. All except you.

Often, I have wondered what you would have thought of what became of your empire. I had imagined how disappointed you would be at how weak it became without your leadership. I had wondered if you had expected that it had become so dependent on your powers as ruler of mankind. Sometimes, I even wished you would never wake up, so as to spare you the sight of such a pathetic and atrophied empire.

Fear, Religious Extremism, and Ignorance have taken over where Hope, Reason, and Motivation once ruled. Many of the great edifices you erected have now become adorned to the brim with skulls and birds, now a shrine to your greatness as if you were some god. Our great military, now fractured and just as prone to conflict with itself as with any other enemy. Even I have not been spared this decay for my life right now is at the mercy of the Eldar. Were you to learn of this, I can be assured that you would shake your head in disappointment.

Truth be told, I am not sure how I could run this Imperium the way you wanted it. I had assumed command so soon after because of fear. Our finest brothers were slain, you barely even holding on. I had hoped that my leadership would only be provisional, to mend our scars until another would gather the courage and powers to take your place.

...

As if a mere holiday will stop my incessant posting of Fann and Rideric's daily life!

I mean, elves are involved in Christmas too so it's ok right

Welp since a new thread's up, I'm-a-have to continue from previous thread:

Within the metroploitan downton area is the well known Archipelago Luxury Hotel. A quaint, upper-class, high-end luxury hotel that has numerous branches from around the globe in different countries. From Saxanaria, to Vlodostavya, to even the desert lands of Marmahnaya, the Archipelago Hotel Group has a branch in nearly every metropolitan area to date.

But what most people seem to not know or are aware of is that the Archipelago Hotel is a front or facade to something quite sinister and shady. It is actually used as a front for the international criminal organization, The Blackguards Guild.

A seedy, criminal underworld organization, composing of the most ruthless assassins, the sneakiest of theives, and even the most silvered tongue swindlers who trick and swindle people into bad deals to gain quick profits. And the whats the catch or the deal about The Blackguards Guild? They're all criminals for hire. And anyone who has contact with the guild, knows how to contact them, can hire a member within The Blackguards for any nefarious deed.

Be it hiring a theif to steal some item from someone for you, an assassin to help get rid off a person you don't like, permanently. Or even build up a heist crew from any respectable member of the guild, any criminal related service or request can do, all for just the right price. One notorious example which is mostly a rumor is that someone even hired a member of the Blackguards Guild who's a serial rapist to rape a man and a woman, and proceeded to have the targets killed.

And The Blackguards Guild has used the Archipelago Hotel and its worldwide branches to house and accomodate its agents and members. So that said members and agents can also be lodging and staying in luxurious comfort while on their trips abroad or out of town.

And right now an assassin who is a seasoned member of the criminal organization has recently came back from a job while telling tales about it with a fellow member.

"So Thor how'd your assassination job go today?" A member of the criminal organization asked a young, attractive and almost feminine looking man clad in a small red coat and leather pants.

"Smooth as usual Gail, target was some two-bit drug dealer who often frequents a high-end brothel, the Lily Pad its called. Actually just ten blocks away from here The Archipelago." Replied the young assassin, Thor Frost is his name. And he is a rather young member of whole Blackguards Guild, though there are many other members who likely just as young and good looking as he is.

"Two-bit drug dealer huh? Why'd you take the job? I mean you said it yourself, a two-bit drug dealer? Which is basically like any typical street thug, a nobody." The member asked.

"Because I was paid good money, duh. Actually I was astonished that someone was willing to pay hundreds of grand for some lowley hoodlum to be killed by proffessionals like us. Granted, we Blackguards are willing to take any lucrative, exploitive and or illegal job for the right price, but frankly most us would just accept less than a hundred-grand, even fifty to even a low twenty-grand to have a lowly-nobody-loser killed. I mean the price of the person you wana have assassinated can depend on the type of person and their social status, but insignificant strangers and poor people are often under the cheap price. Still, I accepted the job if a person is willing to pay that much, the job was worth two-hundred-thousand."

"So any other reason why that target was worth that much?" The criminal guild member asked again.

"Well you see that two-bit drug pusher was hated by a some white knight morals faggot and good samaritan, who's name and identity wishes to be anonymous as per policy agreement. Such person hated this drug dealer named Lark Marth, because this Lark Marth peddled his low-quality drugs to kids. So this moral faggot decided to have a proffessional such as me, do the job." Thor Said as he sipped his drink.

Thor Frost continued he placed his drinking glass down. "Well, I don't blame someone paying assassins like us to dispose of lowly, common law breakers since the cops themselves sometimes just don't do a good enough job in stopping even lowly thugs. Hell, even if mister Marth was an insignificant local street drug dealer who barely makes an impact to the criminal society and criminal world in general. He probably would've just used his drug money to bribe off cops to ignore him look the other way around." Thor took sip of his drink, a waitress then approached by Thor Frost and a criminal guid member to offer a drinks refill, the member who Thor was conversing with declined a refill though Thor happily motioned his glass for the waitress to refill his drink. Then the discussions continued after Thor took another sip from his refilled drink.

"So how did you off the guy?" The guild member asked, eager to know how the assassination played out.

"Okay, okay, I'mma get to it. So like I mentioned earlier, Lark Marth liked frequenting on Lily Pad Brothel. According to my client who hired me since they also did some snooping around on that two-bit dealer themselves, so yeah I went to that place Lark Marth frequented just this past weekend since my client did say mister Marth went to the Lily Pad brothel at weekends. And soon enough just as I was gonna enter that place I already saw and recognized mister Marth. Not only because I was naturally provided a photo of him, but he definitely looked like what any average street drug dealer would look like. Unkempt hair, baggy eyes indicating he too also took drugs or often stayed up late doing late night dealings. And also wore a messy hoody in hopes if he has his hood up, no one might recognize him. Also he looked like a really paranoid fella, often looking at his sides and his eyes wide open. Probably took a sniff of the white powdery stuff that time." Thor took a sip from his drink again.

As Thor done taking a sip, a waitress was just passing by where Thor Frost and the guild member he's conversing with were seating at. Thor noticed the waitress about to pass by a and gave a quick, firm and flirtatious slap on the woman's ass. To which the waitress gave a silent yelp whic was a "Eeeep!", quickly turned around to see Thor Frost smiling and winking as he pointed a finger to her. As the waitress dumbly smiled with a quite giggle and waved a hand to him then headed off as Thor continued his telling once more.

"Continuing. I decided to sneak at the brothel's back door, picked the lock, sneak in without anyone noticing. And once I was in the back area where the strumpets were, I perfectly blended in with both the female and male whores. All thanks to my charming good looks." Thor said as he wink to his fellow guild member.

"Oh yeah yeah. I'm sure you must get those looks of yours by rubbing so much women's cream on your face." The criminal guild member sarcastically remarked.

"Oh don't be so envious about my naturally born good looks, thanks to my caring parents' genes... Any way, I blended in with whores waiting for my target and soon enough there he was, accompanied with two girls. And to make things both interesting and my job simpler, he saw me, approached me and told me to come along with him. As in he said, 'hey come along with me pretty boy, I'll give you your pay later after I'm done with you and these three wenches.' Yeah that's what he said, who knew a lowlife like Lark Marth was also okay with dallying with men. So I did went along with him and two of those whores. But little did he know, I had my blade ready to end that miserable lowlife's life." Thor said cockily as he took a longer sip from his drink.

Thor Frost continued after another sip of his drink. "So there I was, walking into the V.I.P. or private rooms where lonely men and or women would fuck their whores in private. We got in, had the door locked, it was in a second floor which I thought that it was good since I could scale my way down the windows when exiting discreetly. Plus, the brothel rooms were also sound-proof for obvious reasons which also meant making my job simple, less people to hear the commotion going on."

"So how did you execute the target then? Pretty sure it was made complex with the additional company, two other strumpets were also there along with your target right?" Inquired the criminal guild member before taking a drink as well with Thor explaining.

"Weeell... Not really I'd say, but it did get messy. First of all, mister Lark Marth was straight forward, he took his pants off and just bluntly said, 'You two sluts just wait there, go on and make out to make things hot. I wana fuck this pretty bitch boy first, come on boy take off that leather pants. I wana see your pretty bitch boy-ass. Not before you suck my balls and dick that is.' As in my target was reffering to me, of course. That was when I finally drew my hidden blade. And naturally the target and those two whores were shocked at the sight that an assassin has come to end a petty drug dealer's life, and all because he made the grave sin of selling narcotics, especially to children. There was little resistance from the target since he was intoxicated from drinking a bit. I simply parried his sloppy and drunken moves, then I slashed his throat with my blade as made a mess of the blood he was gurgling out. He immediately fell to the ground gasping and holding on to his throat till I deftly plunged my blade to his heart. Thus ending the lowlife man's life." Thor Frost took another sip.

Thor continued again after that quick sip. “Unfortunately one of the two strumpets decided to charge at me with. As in one of them smashed a bottle by holding onto the bottle neck, tried to glass me with a beer bottle. Such a shame too since that strumpet was indeed a good looking girl, so I had not much of a choice but to end her life as well, this time though out of making sure no witnesses and also self defense on my part. Unlike me killing that lowlife Lark Marth, my scuffle with that feisty girl was a bit messy. We actually struggled since there were some spilled contents from the glass bottle she smashed to make a makeshift weapon which I and the resistant girl slipped on, thus she lost hold of her weapon, she tried to slap and claw me with her nails. I punched her back, and then got a hold of my weapon which slipped out of my grasp just a few second and slashed her up too. I was then covered in some blood at that time, potentially making the job and my discreet escape a bit more complex.”

Then the fellow criminal guild member inquired. “And what about the other whore in the room with your target? You said there were about three individuals you know had to contend with, your target and two other strumpets he had with him.”

Then Thor Frost seemed to lighten up even more than before while he was explaining how his recent assassination job went. “Ahhh! Now that there is when things started to get interesting during that night, unlike that one feisty girl that tried to be a do-gooder by attacking an assassin member of The Blackguards Guild; though I’m certain none of them knew I was a member of The Blackguards. That remaining girl did not put up resistance; instead she simply broke into tears begging for mercy not to kill her. Going on about how she doesn't want to die, she has a sister and a younger brother she has to help take care of. I actually felt sorry and pity for her, so I just simply holstered my balde and appraoched her."

Thor Frost suddenly let out a n unexpected sneeze then continued on.

"Whoops, bless me. Sorry about that, now where was I? Oh yeah, I sheathed my blade, approached the girl and did my best to calm her down."

"And how'd you come down that strumpet? Used your wily good young boyish looks, and charming charisma?" The criminal guild member who Thor is conversing with, sarcastically inquired.

"Oh yes, a bit of both, but I mostly just cooed her and reassured her I wasn't gonna end her still young life quick. If she just behaved like a good girl, and to make sure she didn't squeal I bribed her."

"With what?"

"Silver coins that I had with me."

Just as Thor Frost explained that he used silver coins to bribe a witness into silence, the criminal guild member seemed surprised as he simply and flatly asked. "What?"

"Silver coins, I gave pure and genuine silver dubloons which is of course worth a lot of cash. A pouch full, specifically a hundred silver coins I gave her. Should be enough to not only keep her mouth shut, but to help her struggling family."

"No, no way. Thor you cannot be fucking serious." The criminal guild member expressed his disbelief, but in a quiet enough manner for other guild members in the lounge to hear. "Seriously Thor Frost, seriously? You gave that witness fucking silver to stay quiet!?"

"Why? What's wrong with that?" Thor asked seemingly confused at the disbelief of his fellow guild member.

"Thor, we The Blackguards Guild use silver coins as our currency as opposed to official currency bills or bank notes. Because current mainstream currency bills and bank notes have tracking numbers and other serial ID's that can be used to track down its users and owners. We use silver coins since society and tthe world today uses paper money that can be traced and is trackable, as opposed to gold or silver which is no longer an official form of currency that can be oftenly tracked and traced. Especially if unmarked."

The guild member went on. "However, the silver coins we use has The Guild's logo on it, especially serial numbers that our organization uses. Dammit Thor, what were you thinking!? Ya could have just murdered that bitch and sneaked outta there. That way when people find three dead bodies, people and the authorities will just think there was a fight between a guy who turned out to be a drug dealing loser and two whores because things went south between them. It could have ended like that, but instead you just put things into jeopardy-" Thor Frost immediately cut off the guild member as he finally explained his side of the tale.

"Relax Gale, RE-LAX man. Of course I'm well aware of literally handing out Guild information or Guild assets just out there to anyone who's not a member, associate or ally of the Guild. And you can calm down about me giving the silver coins to that strumpet. Those silver coins I gave her, they were unmarked, blank."

"Blank? Are you sure Thor? If any of those coins has even just the Blackguard's emblem in small size and she starts showing and flaunting it and some law enforcement dudes see it. It could mean alot of trouble for the-"

"All the coins I gave her are blank and no serial ID or shit what-so-ever. So therefore no way anyone can trace back to anything. After all, The silver coins the guild uses are sometimes blank and unmarked and I so happened to have had those unmarked coins that night."

"...Alright you seem to be confident in that claim Thor. I guess I'll believe you." Said the guild member now calmed down and not worried and took a drink of some high end beer.

(I'll continue and add more eventually, turns out I'mma gonna be heading out with family for holiday celebrations.)

>Oh no honey, you promised you wouldn't... We BOTH told Evy absolutely not.

It's not from me it's from *Santa*. Brian's showgirl put down a whole clutch back in November. Said nobody wanted this little guy, how could I say no?

>She's not old enough...

Huh? I was only four when I got Spike.

>And did you care for him? Who put out the Christmas tree on that very first day you love to tell Evy about?

Well, Dad did, but I took care of almost all the rest myself. Except the claw trimming, and Mom was always out in the yard so she did most of the flights... Pets are more of a family responsibility anyway.

>You mean OUR responsibility. How are we going to ever find the time?

Brain says he'll let me take more work-from-home days and shift my schedule as long as I make up the time, he understands.

>So you're going to just be lazing around the house all day playing-

Watching.

>PLAYING with your own little dragon? And a golden one too, just like Spike I notice. Remind me again who's Christmas present this is?

You can't tell me Evy isn't going to love him. She's been asking for one since she learned to talk. Just imagine the look on her face when she see's her stocking, she'll scream until she passes out.

>Hmm

Look, it won't be a problem, I promise. I'll worry about the scheduling, or put in extra hours if we need to pay for a daycare, and Evy will take care of the exercise and fireproof-charming, just like she always says.

>Will she now? The whole house?

I'll make sure of it, and we're going to train him right from day one. No biting or scratching or fire indoors, and no food from the table or getting on the furniture.

>He's on the couch RIGHT NOW.

Well, he's still just a little guy. I mean look at him! Come on, how could you say "no" to a face like that?

>Oh gods this is a terrible idea... Fine, I give up

Yes!

>But I draw the line at him sleeping on our bed. And you can get up 5AM to put him in Evy's stocking yourself. I'm going to sleep.

...

A short story ish from our game's setting.

Joshua sighed as he walked down the sidewalk path. In one hand, he carried the finest Algolian wine, fresh from the vineyard. In another hand, he carried his palmnode, sleek glass and rectangular, and frowned that Jansen hadn’t taken up his calls.

He sighed.

Eventually, he arrived at their small apartment house. The landlord was kind enough, old, a bit eccentric, but otherwise perfectly fine. He shoved his palmnode within his pocket and brought out his keystone. He placed it near the tass-lock, shaped like a flat piece of glass in the side of the door where the knob would’ve been. Joshua tapped the keystone against it, and the rune etched onto the stone shone a bright green. There was a click, and the door swung open.

Joshua walked in. “Mr. Judson! I’m back!”

From the living room within the first floor, Mr. Judsen shouted back. The volume of his videoscreen was low, reduced to only just a mumbling. “Oh, Joshua! Be a mate and check up on Jansen upstairs would you? There’d been quite a bit of, well, silence.”

Joshua paused, and furrowed his brows. “That is strange, Mr. Judsen. I’ll take a look.” He gripped his Algolian wine and walked up the stairs.

He stopped in front of the white door, raised a fist to knock, but then found that it was slightly open. Joshua frowned. Part of him thought why the door was slightly opened. Did she leave for a while? She was meticulous about, well, everything. She most probably wouldn’t have left the door open.

Another part of him thought: What in Adon’s name was she doing now?

He shrugged. He’ll just have to find out.

The outside of the Algolian wine had gone cold and wet. Joshua wiped the side of his wool jacket and walked in. “Jansen!--Adon’s spit!’

He almost let go of the Algolian wine, but remembered how many eagles he’d spent on it, so he placed it gingerly on the floor, before bolting to the center of the room. Atop the flower-patterned carpet, there was a chair. Atop the chair dangled feet.

The dangling feet belonged to Jansen, a thick noose tied around her neck, her mouth slightly open. She had tied her hair into a messy bun on top of her head, so that the noose wouldn’t get in the way.

Jansen wore her leather overcoat, and on its side, written in alchemically made neon lights, glowing suspended in mid air, were the words: “ELIXIR. FIRST DESK. RIGHT. GREEN.”

Joshua bolted into her room, scrambled for the first desk out of four, and snatched the clear, bulbous flask filled with a viscous green fluid. As he dashed back, Joshua noticed that the green liquid didn’t reflect light, and was completely opaque.

Joshua unstoppered the flask and poured the liquid within Jansen’s mouth. A flash of green veined throughout her, and then, she began flopping. Joshua turned and picked up a sword -- where’d she get that in the first place? -- and cut the noose with it. He then untied the noose as fast as he could, fraying the thick threads with the edge of the sharp longsword.

Jansen inhaled a massive gasp of breath, her eyes widening, glowing with a radiant emerald shine. She doubled over, moving to the side, breathing, heaving, punching the wooden floor. Joshua fell to his knees, his breath escaping him, and he reached for Jansen, shaking her. “Jansen! Jansen! Are you alright?”

Joshua didn’t sign up for this.

Jansen kept punching the floor, heaving massive breaths, then she cackled. Joshua stopped shaking her, falling onto his butt, eyebrows furrowed, mouth hanging open. “Wh-what?”

Jansen kept laughing. A laugh from the stomach, genuine and not mocking in any fashion, although Joshua didn’t care much for the motives behind the mad cackling.

“O-oh my,” she said, gripping her belly. “My innards. My Soul!”

“Jansen! Wake up! It’s not a dream.”

“I know, you dimstalt,” she stopped laughing, letting out one final breath, and then fell to the ground, spreading her arms and legs and just laying there. She stared up at the noose, which had been cut in two.

“What were you doing? You were giving me a heart attack.”

“Oh did I? Apologies from all five corners of the Mund. I’ve forgotten that shock can lead into cardiac arrest.” She sighed, and then pulled herself off the ground, sitting. She reached into her leather pocket, pulling out her palmnode, and began scrolling through feeds. News of all sorts. She did this while sitting on the flower-patterned carpet, hugging her knees against her chest.

“Hey! Jansen! You just killed yourself!”

“I did,” she nodded. “And then I resurrected myself.”

“No,” Joshua ran a hand through his brown, tousled hair. He began wishing he’d drunk the entire bottle of cold wine. “I resurrected you.”

She paused, and then turned to look at him. The glowing green of her eyes was subsiding, fading from green to her natural hazel brown. She looked away, back into her palmnode. “Correct. Congratulations. I suppose you want a kiss or something of the sort.”

Joshua blinked. “Wh-what-”

“Anyhow!” She bounced up to her feet. “It seems my theory has been proven wrong once again, and so the game continues.”

Joshua shook his head. “What?”

Jansen turned to him. “The secret of the Mortal Coil, Joshua!” She looked at him as if this was something she should know. She was right, though. She had been talking about this since the beginning. “You’re the physicker, are you not? Do you not wish to know the veil between Mund and Mort? Why there is death? What happens in between? Why we die in the first place?”

“It’s not my place to be asking those questions.” He sighed, and then stood up. He walked over to the kitchen and brought out a couple of wineglasses, and then gestured or Jansen. Jansen grinned and nodded eagerly. “I’m a physicker. I try my best to keep people living longer. That’s it.”

“Ah yes,” Jansen scratched her head. Joshua poured the wine into the glass -- it was a mauve color, and was rich in texture. He gave it to Jansen. “Cheers. Anyway, that’s why non-latents are so boring! They fail to question. And thus, they do not receive answers.”

Joshua shrugged. “That’s the job of other people.”

“And so you receive their answers, not your own.” She sipped. “This is amazing.”

Joshua managed a smile. “Right. So, this was all to advance your research? What did you see?”

“Blackness. Lots of it. I could feel it, and there was a sensation of constant falling. And then I felt something… cold around my feet, slowly creeping up, and that’s when you brought me back.” She looked at her fingers, which were deathly cold, devoid of life, pale. In fact, her entire body had gone pale and cold. “I suspect that I am not entirely the same.”

Joshua grimaced.

“No matter,” she said, shrugging. “Being half-dead should be no worries.”

“You’re technically Undead,” Joshua said, sipping wine, as if that would wash away his worries.

“Ah, perfect!” She said, shrugging. “Then I can but examine myself instead of going around looking for Nocturnes that I can experiment with. Now if you’ll excuse me, this exquisite wine should make a fine companion to research.” And she disappeared into her room.

Joshua sighed.

Soon, dusk dawned, and twilight struck. The only thing that illuminated Jansen’s room was the desklamp she kept, as well as a small glowglobe that floated lazily in the air, shining a low hue of halogen orange.

Her immaculately orderly desk was arranged in aesthetically pleasing grids. A palm node in one, a lead pencil in another, and parchment on yet another one. She tapped away on her palmnode as she scribbled on her parchment. Opaque, viscous liquids ran through glass tubes nailed to the wall. There was a small burst of light that shone from one end of the intricate complex of glass tubes, as tass fed into the system to perpetuate the constant alchemy of construction, transmutation, and then deconstruction.

Then she heard a thump outside.

“Is that… Joshua?” She muttered to herself, and then shook her head. She’d checked, just thirty seconds ago. Joshua was sound asleep on the sofa.

“It could be Joshua falling from the sofa…” she spoke in whispers as she scribble on parchment. “Illogical. Joshua’s weight wouldn’t have permitted such a light thud.” Two soft thuds resonated.

“Footsteps.” Very quietly, Jansen reached for her knife. It was designed as a kris, it’s blade wavy. The flat of its blade was etched with runes and sigils belonging to the Kifetic Script, allowing her a multitude of spells.

She rose from her chair with a silent movement, stepped deliberately on the side. She moved out of her room with all the grace of a shadowcat prowling on its home turf in the Circle of Umbrae.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she could see perfectly in the dark. Her magick cutting through the darkness. In the faint, blue glow of the Nightstar, there walked a… thing. Its eyes glowed red, and it looked like it had wings. Jansen raised the knife and touched the first rune. It began blazing, but stopped when she let go. She saw the red-eyed shadow with a claw made of gnarled bones.

And it raised it, talons pointed directly at Joshua.

Jansen raised an eyebrow. “Come to think of it, one of the only aspects of Death I’ve yet to fully experience is the phenomenon that occurs when a close loved one dies right in front of your eyes. What psychological effects would it incur…”

Joshua snored. The red-eyed thing cocked its head to the side, in such an angle that it looked like it had broken its neck.

It sensed Jansen.

Jansen shrugged. “Then again, it could always wait.”

She touched the first rune on her blade again, and it blazed a pure red. A fire of incandescence crimson, reminiscent of scarlet stars blazing in the night. The thing turned to her, and screamed a nail-scratching screech.

“By fire and steel, be smote by my Will.” She raised the tip of the knife at the thing, and it stepped back. It blurred, and crashed out of the window. Jansen cursed, and jumped out of the window to chase after it. Joshua stirred behind her.

“By seraphic angels and fiendish might! The earth holds no control over me!” Jansen’s momentum was buffeted by an unknown force, and she hit the ground with all the impact of a feather.

She burst off into a run, and saw the thing turning to face her.

Jansen touched the second rune. “When the heavens thunder and the earth shakes, you will be moved, by my Will!”

The skeletal thing ran after her, dashing like a liquid shadow as the gloom of night enveloped it.

Jansen touched the third rune. “By the gods’ decree and the sky’s mandate, fall before me!” The skeleton jumped.

Jansen touched the fourth rune. “By my Will.” And an iridescent beam of destructive force exploded from the tip of the knife, jumpin at the skeletal thing while it was in mid air. A crackle, sizzle, rumble of thunder, and light exploded from the impact. Jansen fell to the ground, the knife clattered to the curb beside her. Her hand sizzled from Dissonance.

Joshua burst out of the door. “Jansen! What happened?”

Jansen didn’t answer. Joshua followed her line of sight, and saw a sizzling figure up the sidewalk. He walked up to it, and flinched when he laid eyes upon the thing.

Jansen furrowed her eyebrows. She reached for her knife and rose to her knees, rubbing at her throbbing right hand. She ran after Joshua. “What? What is it?”

Joshua’s eyebrows were raised in a horrified arc, and he pointed at the dead thing. It wore a black cape, and its right hand was skeletal, with the structure reminiscent of a dragon’s claw, and its face was…

“Huh.” Jansen furrowed her eyebrows, and she laid a finger on her chin. “It’s me.”

Perhaps I had been presumptuous as well. I was waylaid just as much as you were, and the Imperium you made had only suffered for it.

Recently, I had begun looking through your archives of Ur-Terran history. Magnus no doubt would have laughed about how I'd never catch up to what he knew, Rogal would have called it pointless just until Perturabo decided to take an interest, Leman probably might have asked what the point of the paper was. Even Horus would have dismissed it as just some passing flight of fancy. Now that so much time has passed since I last came here, I think I have understood the value of these legends more than ever despite my aversion to the blatant idol worship that the Imperium has become.

Perhaps the most particular of the legends is the one about the legend of...Sinderclas? No, Santa Claus, that was the name. I recall a conversation we had ages ago, when you were observing how I governed the 500 Worlds of Ultramar. You mentioned having used the idea of a man in a red suit to inspire the divided peoples of Terra to band together for the sake of goodwill to all men. Of course, even I realized that the point behind it all was not for the sake of some tawdry presents or for the countless sales that just happen to coincide with the time. No, this time, this...Christmas you called it, it was meant to unite people under a singular banner, under a singular cause. You used this power of a common cause to unite Terra under your empire, and from there to the sprawling Imperium before us.

I was hoping that you would have saved some of your political strategies using this icon, but as with everything in this changed Imperium nothing is easy to just get. So much has become so buried in myths based on half-truths and irrelevant stories cannibalized to become part of the canon. In a sense, it's reminded me of your history.

Then the criminal guild member asked after drinking. "So what did you do to that witness then?"

"Simple, I just made love to her." Thor Frost said as-a-matter-of-factly just as the criminal guild member he's conversing with once again flatly asked what.

"What?"

"I simply calmed her, assured her I wasn't gonna kill her so long she didn't squeal, gave her a hundred silver pieces to ensure she can have way more than enough finances to lead a better life. And I further used my charms to give her a good fucking that night as opposed to having to fornicate with that uncouth and ill-mannered Lark Marth. And to make that time of love making with that girl even better, she was a virgin. As in that last remaing girl who was wise enough to stand down and fall to my good looks was a virgin, never fucked before and was NOT used goods. So, I convinced a witness to my nefarious deed to not squeal to any authorities, gave her a hundred silver pieces thus making her rich. And gave her some good love making, sparing her with having sex with a low-life."

"So you exploited- I mean, 'coaxed' a poor defenseless woman into having sex with you, or else you'll kill her huh? Heh, and I'm betting you didn't use a condom and you came in her, ending up giving her an unwanted pregnancy about couple of months later, eh?" The criminal guild member who Thor was conversing with snarked humorously.

"Yeah I admit. No condom and came in her real good numerous times, but again atleast she had sex with a good looking and charming rogue such as myself, hehehe." Thor simply chuckled at that as he likely pictured the time he made some love making to that one whore who survived and witness the assasination work he did that night. As his fellow guild member just replied with deadpan snark.

"Tch, you're a real piece of work Thor Frost. Having sex with that whore in a room with dead stinking bodies, blood stains on the ground and on yourself."

Thor Frost just laughed lightly at the statement.

Suddenly Thor's cellphone rang up, thought it was just on vibrate and not in a ringtone he still noticed his phone lighting up with a message. And very interestingly other Blackguards Guild members in the Archipelago Hotel's Bar and Lounge also simultaneously recieved a text message aswell, it could only mean one thing. The Management of The Archipelago Hotels and Leaders of The Blackguards have sent a message to all of the members of The Blackguards Guild. The guild member who Thor Frost is takling with asked what the message sent by the top management is all about since said guild member did not have a phone right now.

"Hey Thor whats going on??? I'm betting the top management's sending a message to all members since everyone right especially you is now on their phones at the same time. But I ain't got my phone right now, left it in my hotel room charging. What's the message all about???"

Thor Frost chuckled as he explained. "You won't believe it. The Blackguards Guild most famous, deadly and efficient member; Janelyn Vickers, or Jane Vick. Is hereby officially excommunicated, I don't believe it. So those rumors about her were true, she did kill a prominent client of The Archipelago Hotel and The Blackguards!"

The fellow guild member expressed astonishment. "What? Real shit? That stuff I've heard about Jane Vick's real? Uhh... I hope you don't mind this statement that might sound dumb, but what does Jane Vick look like again? I've never really seen her in person, but I have the recent events that she killed said prominent client 'cause said client pissed her off in a personal level. But again, I've never seen her personally but I have heard of her and am aware her since she's got legendary status and shit."

Thor simply chuckled, searched around in his phone and brought up an image of the famous Jane Vick taken by another Blackguards member. (pic related)

Despite all your insistence that religion would have nothing to do with the empire, it has somehow become so entrenched in this monotheistic faith of absurd exaggerations and hypocrisy that it became what held it together in the ten thousand years since we last walked among them. It baffles me as much as I am sure it would baffle you.

According to this calendar you left here, it says that it's supposed to be December 24th, the Eve of Christmas, when this Santa Claus would leave his impenetrable fortress of the North Pole to deliver his gifts to the children of Ur-Terra. Even though the human population had grown exponentially, even despite all the wars and tragedies that befell the world, this man would go every night with the same wish for goodwill towards all men.

Statistically speaking, this was something I was never able to understand. How does he do this? What power did he command to build such a pervasive myth, and how did you draw upon such power? How do I?

Perhaps, if I were to buy into the myth that Santa Claus would actually deliver me some sort of present, I know what I would wish for, but how do I do this for the countless trillions of humans under us? I am no psyker like you, I have no guarantee that I know their wishes. All I can rely on are aging lessons from a time long gone and what information is being gathered from across this broken empire.

Maybe, if I were to believe this story, I would wish for the knowledge of how to rebuild this Imperium into one that I know you would be proud of. That is the responsibility I have to you.

Merry Christmas, Father. I hope that your wish might come true as well.

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Slightly depressing, but also moving at the same time. Well done, user.

You prose is a little stilted in places, but I'm guessing that was just your way of conveying a Primarch's particular gravitas. Still, in one or two places I had to read it through twice - maybe just watch out for that so you don't take it too far.

I have now read

You don't really need to do anything to the mechanics of your writing - just a little touch up here and there, nothing major. The way you wrote the interactions between Rideric and Fann made them feel genuine and interesting characters. If I have a criticism, it's that apart from that core characterisation there isn't much to the story. It's lacking plot, and I didn't get a very good sense of the setting it was taking place it. If you don't feel like getting on with some actual beginning-middle-end plot and just want to keep doing scenes between Rideric and Fann that's up to you, (although I personally would find it easier to read if it was a little more focused), but I think it could really benefit from some more descriptive depth. It may just be me but I had a very poor sense of where they were most of the time. There are some details, like
>As she watched the door to Rideric’s home slowly shrink and become obscured by weak and pale foliage or passing people,
But I have no idea beyond that whether they're in the middle of an Eldar craftworld, on rural Exodite world, in the middle of a city, etc, etc.

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Thor showed the image of Jane Vick on his phone to the guild member he's conversing with. "This here is THE Jane Vick; she might look like any typical city-urban woman. But anyone who's been in the shady underworld would easily recognize her as a woman who loves to wear formal business wear. Especially formal men’s wear. And this image of her was taken by another Blackguard member during a group job of having to take down bandit group who were harrassing some people passing through the countryside."

"Huh, so that's her... Was honestly expecting her to be a bit more, gruff. For a lack of better words..."

"Yep, and she decided to throw away her membership of the guild, the privileges of being a member such as having very afforadable stays here in the Archipelago, and access to top-notch and high-end weaponry for your jobs and contracts. All of it, threw it away because a dear client of the Blackguards and Archipelago Hotels 'pissed oof' Jane Wick and that suit-wearing harlot threw a hissy fit by killing the client. As a matter of fact, I'm thinking of actually taking her out, putting her head on the platter. Because the message from the Top Management says she now has a bounty of five million bucks. FIVE FREAKIN' MILLION Gale, five million! You know you've likely fucked up real bad when you've been excommunicated from The Blackguards and have a five million bounty placed on your head by Top Management."

"You really gonna take the job on Thor? What about the legend and tales on how Jane Vick did nearly impossible jobs, especially the recent one where did one impossible task given by a Vlodostavyan crime lord? She did that task within just 24 hours without breaking a sweat. And lets not forget the legend where she has killed five people in a bar fight with just a pen. A fucking ball point pen, the type of pens made out of glass or cheap plastic. She's killed people with those cheap type of pens via gouging their eyes out!"

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The criminal guild member continued. "Don't forget she is a peerless guns-woman. Probably the near perfect assassin and gunner the Blackguards have ever graced of having on it's members list... Until recently when she's now excommunicated."

Thor Frost scoffed. "Pfft! I'm not afraid of Jane Wick. She may be a girl who likes going in loud and proud, guns blazing. But I'm the type of rogue who likes taking more quite and subtle approaches. I'll stalk and sneak around her if I must, if it means I get to plunge my blade to her heart or slit her throat until the least she expects it. Then I earn myself five-mils, oh the happy times I'm gonna have if I were to have that much cash, so many shopping sprees to be had."

Thor Frost said as he took another long sip of his drink as the guild member he's conversing with inquired about another thing.

"By the way Thor, I almost forgot to ask. It's about that assasination job you did that other night and killed that two-bit drug dealer Lark Marth. What ever happened to that witness, you know? The strumpet who was essentially a poor defenseless girl in that situation and exploited for a free fucking?"

"Oh that, first of all it was not free. I compensated her a hundred silver pieces after she witnessed the horros of me doing an assisnation job. Two, I actually helped her sneak out of that joint. I helped her scale down the building from one of the windows at the VIP room we were in and got down to the ground. Escorted her a couple of blocks away from her home and went our separate ways while no one noticed me being flecked with blood stains. But I did warn her if she squeals, I'mma come after her and her siblings and whatever family she's got, so far she seems to keep her word... Oh and three, I never 'sexually exploited', at least I wouldn't say I did so. I just gave that girl a proper and good fucking, spared her the troubles and thoughts of having sex with that petty lowlife Lark Marth or worse, suck his dick."

As Thor was finished explaining his tale, he took his drink again and made an announcement the other guild members in the bar and lounge.

"Ladies and gentlemen! My fellow Blackguard Members and other fellow scallywags, assasins, rogues, people-who've-done-many-questionable-and-illegal-acts-of-crime! May I give a toast please, a toast for wishing you all luck to dispose off that excommunicated bitch, Jane Vick! I wish you all luck my fellow Blackguards, cheers!"

Thor raised his glass of his remaining drink and drank it all up. And the other members in the bar and lounge also did the same as they also raised their glasses and also took a swig of their drinks and yelling out a "Huzzah!"

Thor then spoke to the member he was speaking to again. "Well I dunno with you Gale. But I'mma head back to my room now, I'm actually gonna be heading back to my home the day after tommorow. Well see ya another time." Thor wavved off, and so did the fellow guild member. "But before I head back to my room..."

Thor Frost walked around the bar and lounge amongst the other Blackguard members who're dining, lounging and drinking. And Thor found the waitress who he flirted with and also gave a firm slap to her butt. The waitress noticed Thor behind her as she placed her tray down the counter and gave a nervous smile and wave to him.

"Say babe, I'm both feeling lonely right now. And I might be needing some room service, and you're working uniform says you're both a hotel waitress and room service staff. I need a fine girl like you, help keep me company tonight. If ya know what I mean." Said Thor Frost with wink and a twitching of eyebrows.

The waitress simply giggled and came along with Thor Frost, holding his hand as Thor leaded her along with him to his room for a night of one-night-standing.

Thus concludes this story of a day in the life for a member in this criminal organization.

>Finish

There, story for this period's done. So any thoughts?

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There was a lot that was interesting about this. I enjoyed the story overall, and it seems like the setting has had a lot of thought put into it.

So the ideas are good, and way you've put them together into a narrative. The part where you could improve is the actual writing. Although your writing wasn't too bad, it still needs refinement. There were plenty of minor errors in tense and grammar that took me out of the story, and overall the prose and the dialogue felt a little stiff.

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First for Christmas bump(00:14 here)

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Merry Christmas!

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The Path of the Custodian was a very important and little regarded path that was necessary in ensuring the many lush (and many more no longer so lush) atriums and greenhouses on the Oshaeni remained as lovely as the day they were first opened for people to respectfully enjoy. Or that’s what Bradan told himself anyway, as he made his hourly stroll across The Blue Glade, a large atrium that housed an impressive ring of tall trees around a meadow of ancient-seed flowers and a pool of water that reflected the false daylight sky above.

The Blue Glade had carefully marked pathways that slowly circled towards the pond, being overtaken by flowers from lack of use, ensuring a long walk around where any good Eldar could appreciate the careful planning that went into The Blue Glade. He smiled faintly as he walked through the ring of trees and out into the meadow proper, staring up at the fake sun. He looked back down at the sweeping meadow, where colorful flowers carpeted the ground and hugged the large pond. That is when he noticed something terrible.

There were two people who had stepped off the paths and had sat down next to the pond, likely crushing many flowers in their recklessness! They sat together, an adult with a small child in his lap a few small petals floating in their outstretched hands, which instantly struck him as odd. All the Oshaeni’s children had died from the wasting sickness years ago.

Sensing a moment he could puff up his chest and show some amount of authority, and more than a little curious, he quickly made his way to the duo, carefully stepping so that he would leave minimal disturbance.

“Excuse me!” He called out, speeding up a little as he closed the gap. “Excuse me! You’re off the marked path.” He finally stopped, staring down at the two with a frown that quickly switched to disgust as he realized the thing in the man’s lap wasn’t a child but a primitive little mon’keigh. “And pets aren’t allowed.”

“Well that’s fine. I didn’t bring any pets,” the other man said, gently moving the mammal off his lap and getting up. He did not cut a very impressive figure, with long loose shaggy hair and a loose unadorned robe that was left open to show an equally plain tunic and pants. “Who are you?”

“I’m Bradan, the Custodian for the Blue Glade,” he replied with a bit of a snort at the man’s messy appearance.

“Nice to meet you Bradan. I’m Rideric,” the other man introduced himself with a short bow. “This is Fann.”

Bradan felt a tug on his coat and instantly wrenched it away from the tiny hand, looking down at the mon’keigh with a deep frown which evolved into horror when he saw she was holding up a flower to him. “…Give me that!” He snapped, snatching it from her hand. The thing shrank away from him to hide behind Rideric’s leg.

“That was needlessly cruel,” Rideric sighed.

“This flower is very important; people can’t just go plucking things out of the ground. Especially clumsy handed little creatures,” Bradan said.

Rideric tipped his head, “then you’ll be really upset to know we’ve been plucking flowers all day long.” He gestured down at the ground, allowing Bradan to look at a small pile of mutilated flowers, with petals and leaves ripped off. Bradan’s horror increased, “petals are lightweight and colorful. Good for practicing basic skills with.”

Bradan stared up at Rideric, trying to find the right words to express his horror and frustration at someone blatantly disregarding the rules. He met Rideric’s eyes, bright orange things that suddenly made Bradan feel a curious prickling sensation in his spine. They held a sharp hot edge to them, keenness and hunger. Swallowing a fast forming lump in his throat, he brought his thoughts to bear. “Look. As a Custodian, it is my job to ensure that this area is available to everyone and remains in a pristine state. If I just let anyone bring their pets in-“

“You keep using that word,” Rideric interrupted, leaning forward with something that wasn’t quite a smile on his face. “I told you, I didn’t bring any pets.”

“Whatever she is,” Bradan acquiesced, stepping backwards. “If I let people rip flowers from the ground as they wish, we’ll quickly have no flowers left, and then nobody will get to enjoy them,” he explained.

Rideric looked around them, over the rolling floral meadow empty of any other souls. “Hn.”

“Even Farseer Aveler understands this,” Bradan added. “When he comes for his walks, he stays on the path at all times.”

“Well, I guess if our wise Farseer sees it that way,” Rideric lifted up the tiny primitive in his arms. “I have no choice but to follow your rules, Custodian.”

“We’re going?”

Bradan stared at the thing, “it speaks?”

“Yes, children do tend to talk,” Rideric said, before turning his attention to her. “We can try another place another day, Fann. I didn’t know this one was a museum.”

Bradan watched Rideric walk away with his pet in tow, keeping a careful eye on the two until they were obscured by the tree line. He then set his hands on his waist and decided he did a job well done!

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bumping with my christmas story from last year

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I've been looking for a story that I lost, about a Paladin carrying an urn on his back that contained the souls of two children and only he could talk to them.
And it's been a while since I last read it so I can't remember any more of it.

Any help would be appreciated.

I don't usually post here, but a friend told me I ought to put this somewhere for people to read, so I'm doing just. It's part of a community in a setting where everything that ever existed fucjed itself into next Tuesday but I don't even think any context would work too well to keep you from being confused. I'm just going to post it as it is.

pastebin.com/MEMW5NCc

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“You know,” the hoarse voice trailed into the small Aspect Shrine, full of dust and old relics left in their containers or on display. The carefully woven rugs that once covered the floor had been rolled up and placed in a corner, and dried arcs and splotches of blood still laid on the bare floor. The light was dim, casting everything in shadows. “Fighting what is the natural end of a Path is unhealthy.”

Rideric looked up from the black and green draped altar where the dust-caked Exarch armor laid. “I switched paths.”

“Yet you’re here,” Aveler slowly walked closer to Rideric, leaning heavily on his blue staff that shined with the stones of other passed Farseers. His skin looked even more decrepit in the light, sagging from his frail bones. “You’re drawn to this place, because you know this is what you must-“

“I came to talk with a friend,” Rideric said, before coughing, covering his mouth and leaning against the altar.

“This place could also use a good dusting,” Aveler noted, raising his voice slightly to be heard over Rideric’s violent hacking, drawing his finger over the wall and making a face at the black splotch on his finger tip.

“It’s not from the dust,” Rideric wheezed, wiping blood from his mouth.

“To suffer is a blessing,” Aveler said softly, reaching out with a withered hand to pat the taller man’s arm. “We are reminded of our presence still, and how much more we can do for each other. When Danann chose to become the Exarch of the Banshees, it was after her son Tuathe and her husband Liorn died. Rather than be consumed by her sorrow, she chose to channel it into allowing her war mask to take over.” Aveler watched Rideric slowly turn to look at him, with those hard orange eyes.

“I stopped fighting because I loved it too much, Farseer,” Rideric said softly. “I didn’t want to be even more like my mother.”

Aveler shook his head sympathetically. “I know, but it’s too late. The mask has overtaken the person who was once Rideric.”

“You don’t understand,” Rideric spoke with an uneasy smile. “I don’t have a war mask.”

Aveler pulled his hand away quickly, taking a step from Rideric. “No war mask? Rideric, do you know how dangerous this is?” He asked. “Your soul is on the line! Allowing your passions to consume you…! Is it because of that mammal?”

“No,” Rideric replied, the smile slipping off his face. “This happened long before I found my daughter.”

“You truly are more like your mother,” Aveler sighed, rubbing his temple with one hand. “How much longer can you resist your blood lust? You’re a danger to everyone.” Rideric looked back down at the Exarch armor, his pale hands tracing over the dusty grooves and dull gems. “The Paths were created for a reason, Rideric. Your mother may not have respected them, but you… you should know better.”

“Do you think I’m the best choice for an Exarch?” Rideric asked softly.

“No,” Aveler answered. “But you’re the only choice.”

“Did our ancestors tell you that?”

Aveler went silent, taking another step away from Rideric. “I suppose I should leave you to your thoughts now, shouldn’t I?”

Rideric did not answer except for a tiny snicker.

“Rideric, listen… consider your choices carefully,” Aveler warned, pointing a clawed finger at the other. “The fate of our Craftworld depends on everyone doing their part, and selfishly holding onto something you once were will help nothing. In suffering we will find our redemption, is that not what we have learned?” The Farseer then shook his head and turned away, leaving the small shrine.

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Rideric waited until he heard the door close in the distance, leaning down to look at the blank helm of the Scorpion armor. He could hear distance whispers from within, calling towards him. Gently he picked up the piece of armor, staring into its blank eye pieces. He could see his own orange eyes reflected back at him, staring with a dull dutiful gaze.

“My will is my own, and you can’t have it.”

He set it back down on the altar, before he caught something move in the shadows. “Hm?”

“Was he always so unpleasant?” The voice was half-drowned and whispery, but Rideric could understand him perfectly fine.

“No. He used to be almost as bearable as that Farseer from Ulthwe.”

The shadowy being was quiet for a moment, before speaking again. “The illness is deeper than the flesh.”

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The Sakura Offensive (桜の攻撃) of 1923 is widely considered to be the final turning point of the Japanese Revolutionary War, where the forces of the Asian Communist International unexpectedly broke through the Japanese Imperial Army lines in the Chubu region and into northern Japan. Beginning on the 1st of April and lasting until the May 16th (coincidentally mirroring the annual blooming of the Japanese Cherry Tree, Prunus Serrulata, which it was subsequently named for) the Offensive consisted of two main land attacks along both coasts, along with widespread naval engagements and bombardments (see Naval Battles of the Sakura Offensive), as well as amphibious landings in Hokkaido and Akita. In addition to forcing the end of the Japanese Revolutionary War only three months later on August 15th, 1923 (making it the last of he Asian Communist Revolutionary Wars to end) and leading to the short-lived formation of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere, the Sakura Offensive is considered the first example of modern Combined Arms and Tank Warfare tactics in Asia.

The Sakura Offensive was initially planned by The International's Strategic Planning Committee, primarily General Zhu De, as an attempt to break the three year long trench-warfare stalemate that had developed along the natural chokepoint between the Kansai and Chubu regions on Japan's main island. Despite calling for over 650,000 men and 2 million shells in the initial bombardment alone, the primary objective was decidedly conservative compared to earlier years' (reflecting a growing sense of pessimism in the International's leadership): merely to push IJA back across the Chubu plains to the feet of the Japanese Alps before digging in until the next spring. However, this objective rapidly changed when, on April 2nd, the divisions of the Japanese Liberation Army spearheading the International's western attack unexpectedly broke through IJA lines.

>Read more?

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