Wielder of Names 4-61
Chapter: 4
“Do not surround yourself with splendor. Spend your treasury sparingly. Stock the halls of your holdfast with sturdy and plain men, and do not adorn your walls. Abhor gold. If you sit next to the sun too long, you’re likely to go blind.”
-Au Vam, 15 Ways of Ruling
“…at a three finger discount, of course!”
well these girls about to b eaten or worse rarest bounty ass
Goest thou for “rarest bounty IS ass” (an observation), or for “rarest bounty MY ass” (a dismissal)? Or, perchance, for “rarest bounty IS MY ass” (a boast)?
I fear we may never know…
Such is the reality of the great questions of YISUN
Considering one’s own ass is one of a kind in their reality, would it not be ones ass which is the rarest bounty? Perhaps one’s ass which has ceased to exist is rarer, for it was once at such a time, and is no longer.
Though, there mayhaps be an argument that because everyone owns their own singular ass, and that there are a nigh non-finite quantity of such ass, it is of one of the most common bounties in the universes.
Which is better: to be recognized as royal upon sight, or to surprise folk with your authority?
Difficult to say which is better. Easier to say which is more useful.
Surprise?
I mean, it’s a great way to keep one’s servitors on their toes.
Surprise is not needed in a panopticon
Surprise, obviously. No one speaks honestly about royalty in your their own presence. Hide your splendor until everyone has said their piece, and then reveal that they have committed the hideous sin of speaking truth to power.
“Real gangstas don’t gotta flex nuts, ’cause real gangstas know they got’m.” ~ Geto Boys (radio edit)
A true royal would be wise to the perception of others, but ultimately indifferent. What does it matter if an ant recognises the authority of a giant when it will be stepped on all the same? Even as he knows it, why would the giant care for the ant’s opinion anyway?
Perhaps because where there is one ant, there are usually more behind.
And while one ant is pathetic and easily crushed, a swarm of ants can strip the flesh from anything that lives and does not flee before it.
…except for a pangolin, I suppose. But then, few things trouble pangolins.
Appearances might as well be called lies. Now, God is the highest of liars. To an extent, does that mean that appearances are just facets of reality, the realm of God, which is told in such a delicious manner…
… that then might as well be truth.
The detail in this update is breathtaking. Well done, abbadon, it must have taken quite a while.
An angel like my self could get used to working for Mother Nandia Om for she runs a tight ship. She keeps the lower class in check and all nobility in her pocket such an orderly thing. I wonder will she allow a fool like myself to be a subjugator in her grand imperial kingdom.
People who’s finger count is in the single digits are often more cooperative, I imagine.
But also more resentful. Certainly, removal of superfluous digits can buy a person’s cooperation in the short term. But beneath the fear is a seed of hate, one that, instead of boiling to murderous fury, instead festers in their heart. The more time passes, the higher the likelihood that some damn fool will attempt rebellion, and thereby the higher likelihood that one’s “obedient” agents will support that fool, however surreptitiously.
And Mother Om is very old indeed, with many subjects who have lost their fingers (and much more). The likelihood of betrayal, in such situations, approaches 100%.
Aw yes Revenge: The gift that keeps on giving.
A rebellion based on hate brings only a new cycle of destruction and hate. Forgive your oppressors. Seek freedom through the creation of something new that will supplant the evil of the past.
is it rust and sharp, or rust is sharp? (for the highlight quote)
Dat codpiece.
Somewhere, in all of that, is a pool of hot water so glorious it can transcend time itself!
inb4 Allison knocks the whole thing down upon killing Nadia.
I have had occasion to visit the Palace in the past, in the course of working with the Haberdasher’s Guild (as I’m sure you can tell, they have a great deal of work there), and I must say that much of its luxury is lost on me. I am incapable of sampling the many delicacies served, and merely passing through the grandiose baths left my pages uncomfortably damp for a week. The library is fine enough, and I did find some choice pieces of information there, but it was not a particular focus of Mother Om’s attention, and it simply does not match up to the collections seen elsewhere.
I feel the same about it, though in a different way. Can you believe that there are over fifty different kinds of flour there and not one proper loaf of bread? You can almost smell the wasted potential.
I hope he pickled those fingers before he put them on the sword, or else this palace will smell like a meat market.
“Or else?”
My dear boy, of course the palace smells like a flesh-market! What other purpose could a Palace of Divinity serve? The tannery-yard reek, the spice-merchant’s fug, the redolent cloud of the perfumeries, the foul and maddening humours of the Artisans’ eyries… the scent of the palaces of the Seven are all very much the same in composition. It is only in their relative concentrations one finds difference.
Even the Belligerent Knights of Lord Jagganoth must attend to the desires of the flesh, after all.
If those beyond the veil remember the tale of Archduke Sulliman, The King of Broken Secrets, then everyone surely knows that a master does not control a hoard – it controls them.
In his hallowed halls made polished granite inlaid with metals and jewels from one hundred worlds, he spent his friendships and splendor procuring secrets from Ovis. Before the last leaf dropped in autumn, his palace filled with treasures from every piece of leverage he used on his peers. His tastes became gaudy and ostentatious – his palace was lined with ivory guards and silk-skinned virgins – decadence ran rampant. He found his rule to be just, for nothing should be hidden from the eyes of a king according to Sulliman.
As his domain and events became more extreme, so were his guests. They lost their inhibitions and the guards lost their will to fight for a lord they did not believe in; a lord who abused his knowledge to appear kindly to his guests, when in reality all this splendor hid his grotesque personality.
It was not long before Sulliman became the main course in his own household, for it’s rude to serve guests scraps..
Such is the path and price of want.
Well, here’s hoping that a lot of Trade Guilds will be going out of business soon.
I’m actually curious. The Seven and their direct retainers must wield immense personal power.
But are there conquests sustained by using that power directly or do they leverage the vast number of worlds they’ve pillaged to conquer by overwhelming force?
Typically it is better to be served by the living than the dead.
Unless you’re a necromancer. But not everyone has the patience for the craft, the ability to persist with servants of poor initiative and imagination, or a nose that can tolerate the omnipresent smell of death.
The most trying, in the long run, is the inability to delegate.
I swear to god I’m never sure if talking in riddles in the comments is just the nature of the fandom or the author implanting subliminal message in the panels.
This whole place smells of death. Can’t you tell?
ERHMAHGERDERHMAHGERDERHMAHGERD
Is that fresh blood on those?
This nameless Dame is truly amazing. How she manages to spin the narrative just so, if it weren’t for just one tiny detail beyond her control and ken, one would believe her every word, and she probably does believe herself.
“There is no war in Ba Sing Se.”
(I did love the reveal of the fingers, though. The layout of this page is masterful!)
I can’t say I see the fascination with gold. The color is nice enough, and I’ve seen it hammered to near transparency. I hear it can even be eaten, if you are for whatever reason inclined.
But must it be used on EVERYTHING? I’d mock the garishness of it all (that swordsman in particular), but it’d feel like trying to mock a clown for looking foolish.
The larger the empire, the larger the court, and the larger the court, the more clowns you will find within. The Imperiatrix has a court so large that her palace is a town unto itself.
As much as I love gold, I must agree. It loses its value if there’s nothing to compare it with. Not to mention, variety is the spice of life and all.
I have always been a fan of iron, all the deliciousness of blood with all the chewiness of metal.
What is Dame Mortarboard’s odd backpack? It looks, to me, like a bound tome. Does it contain a copy of Mother Om’s rules? What else could it be? I doubt it is the most important detail of our tour, but it has caught my attention.
A series of tomes, it seems. This does leave one curious.
The dame is actually pretty… cute???
Bloodstained lace and shattered bone are hidden behind pillars of opulence. This decadence cannot sustain itself. However, that food looks delicious. A brief stay may be worthwhile…
Honored Assistant, this is why an assistant you remain.
Of course decadence cannot sustain itself. For what other purpose could decadence be created?
I was once told that the Kingdom of Camelot was not a single city (ignoring any cross-universal duplication), but rather a number of Camelots that reoccurred over the ages. They rise, are chivalrous and glorious, and then are brought low by betrayal. But Camelot always returned.
Perhaps this is true of other cities. If so, truly we view the latest incarnation of Babylon. And fallen soon is Babylon the great. It always falls.
The cyclical nature of these statements are aesthetically and intellectually pleasing! I thank the two of you for these new things to ponder, and apologize for my ignorance.
Why yes, I’d quite like a plate of shrunken Cthulhu heads.
Pride?
Insatiable Gluttony.
The Dame is actually not unattractive, and I find the clothing to be delightful. I am, however, still curious about the graduation hats? I suppose they are just helpful in keeping the sun out of one’s eyes, but still they amuse me. Do they represent a particular social class or occupation? In the last page I believe I saw one with two tassels opposed to one. Does that imply a higher social standing? Or perhaps he just thought two would look better?
WOw, been real since the end of KSBD and the beginning of wielder of names. I am reaalllly looking forward to the infiltration.This Angel has been enjoying all your beautiful landscapes and sharing it with her brothers and sisters. i hope that the work on these isn’t too much stress for you abbadon. I hope you know I keep a special place for you in my crystalline heart <3