You attempt to beg the Sultan for a few more days...Type: Normal Result
Type Tips: Sociability and Wisdom determine your full dice count.
Low Target: 4
Low Target Tips: You need at least 4 Successes to persuade the Sultan.
Rites
The Sultan commands you to uncover the truth before the deadline expires—or else you shall lose your head.
ID: 5006110
Type: None
Tips: None
Duration: 1 days
Waits For: 0 days
Marked as New Only on First Occurrence: 0
Starts Automatically: Yes
Triggers Result Automatically: No
Tag Tips: None
Tag Tips Up: Normal Result, Sociability, Wisdom
Tag Tips Text:
Random Text: None
Random Text Up:You attempt to beg the Sultan for a few more days...
Type: Normal Result
Type Tips: Sociability and Wisdom determine your full dice count.
Low Target: 4
Low Target Tips: You need at least 4 Successes to persuade the Sultan.
This rite has no actions when the wait expires.
Your time is running short.
Locks: Yes
Is Key: No
Is Empty: Yes
Is Enemy: Yes
Conditions:
Pops: None
You have one more chance to plead for reprieve—but...
Locks: No
Is Key: No
Is Empty: Yes
Is Enemy: No
Conditions:
Pops: None
Investigation Results
Locks: No
Is Key: No
Is Empty: Yes
Is Enemy: No
Conditions:
Pops: None
This rite has no activation conditions.
You present Samir's written confession, admitting that he sought to curse the Sultan with the corpse of a stillborn child...
Relief ripples through the court. This means the royal consorts are innocent, and all blame falls upon that wretched physician. As for you... so long as your conscience does not torment you, you no longer need to live in fear of execution.
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In the end, it becomes clear: the entire affair was a plot against Samir, a revenge by stubborn loyalists of the fallen kingdom against a clever man who had thrown himself into the service of the Sultan. Fortunately, our radiant Sultan sees through every deceit, and Samir's unjust charges are swept away.
Though no one is left alive, the sight of that aged corpse and the pale-faced court physician at his side makes the Sultan smile. He rewards you richly, clearly well pleased with the outcome.
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In the end, it becomes clear: the entire affair was a plot against Samir, a revenge by stubborn loyalists of the fallen kingdom against a clever man who had thrown himself into the service of the Sultan. Fortunately, our radiant Sultan sees through every deceit, and Samir's unjust charges are swept away.
The royal guards search the place you indicated and find only the corpse of an old man, dead by poison. The rest of the exiles slip away into the night. Yet after hearing the tale of fathers and sons, and watching the physician's anguished expressions, the Sultan deems the outcome acceptable.
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And you say nothing.
Since entering this game, death has circled you like a vulture; now it descends lower, close enough to brush your shoulder. Yet your heart is strangely calm.
Perhaps this sacrifice is meaningless. Perhaps Samir will die regardless. But at least—you have not betrayed your friend.
The Sultan's wrath is palpable without even raising your head. You hear the heavy tread of the royal guards' boots.
"Wait... it was me."
You turn in shock—and even the Sultan stares in surprise—as a pale, trembling figure crawls from the shadows of a column.
It is Kapar, the favorite once gifted to Samir.
"I was jealous that Master Samir spent time with other men, so I sought to avenge myself with the stillborn child... I bought the infant from beggars in the street. It belonged to no woman in the harem... I was foolish, wicked... Please, do not punish anyone else."
His words falter. His body begins to convulse, and his mouth floods with blood. Servants scatter in panic; a eunuch kneels to check his breath, then declares that he had taken poison beforehand.
The wretched man's blood stains the floor, souring the Sultan's mood. Yet the Sultan is fond of crimes of passion, fond of sordid tales. Since this story pleases him, he begrudgingly spares both you and Samir from further blame.
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You do not even feign an investigation—what greater affront, what deeper contempt for the Sultan! With a wave of his hand, the royal guards force you down onto the smooth, icy lapis lazuli floor. He wants to see your blood drain here, enough to stain several blue tiles red.
As your mind blurs, you dimly hear someone step forth, trembling, to confess. Is it that fool Samir—or another? You can no longer see, no longer hear. Yet even in your own failing, you know this much: you have not betrayed your friends.
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Your earnest diligence, your desperate running about, your pitiful eloquence—these finally amuse the Sultan. Praise the Almighty, most merciful sovereign: your life is spared, for a few more days.
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Do you truly expect a king to retract his decree? He may well have long awaited the spectacle of your death.
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You do not even make a show of investigation, and already you plead for leniency. Before the Sultan even speaks, his ears are filled with denunciations of you.
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Another day passes, and the ministers regard you with yet more pity.
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