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A Tale in the Time of Tumult

The Blessed Isle


a part of A Tale in the Time of Tumult, by Wake.

The Heart of the world. The seat of the Scarlet Empresses power. Nesting place of the Dynastic Dragon Blooded families. Once the homeland of the gods before they retired to heaven, now it houses the greatest empire in creation.

Wake holds sovereignty over The Blessed Isle, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:


Once the home of the gods, when the Primordials ruled Creation, it was inherited by the Celestial Exalted, and later claimed by the Terrestrials. It has always been a place of magic and wonder, and while its wonders are certainly lessened in the wake of the Usurpation and the Contagion, compared to the rest of the world, it is a gleaming jewel of civilization and luxury.

The Blessed Isle is currently the home of the Scarlet Empire, also known as the Realm to most of Creation. While the Empress herself is missing, the Realm continues on, led by the eleven Great Houses descended from her and her power. It is a strict government, led by the Exalted and the Exalted alone, with an unchanging hierarchy of Dynasts, patricians, citizens, commoners, and slaves. And yet, even the lowest commoners have amenities such as running water, clean streets, and medical care unknown to some of the wealthiest portions of the Threshold.

In the absence of the Empress, the Realm is run mostly by the Deliberative, made of Terrestrial representatives from the Great Houses. However, there are numerous inter-faction conflicts between the Deliberative, the Immaculate Order (the state religion and the sponsors of the Wyld Hunt), the All-Seeing Eye (the Empress’ secret police), the Magistrates (the not-so-secret police), and many, many other political parties, all of whom want a piece of the Scarlet pie.

Spiritually, the Blessed Isle is a place of notable stability, as the Immaculate Order keeps the local spirit courts in line. Holidays are strictly sanctioned, and gods and elementals are fiercely (and sometimes violently) prohibited from holding anything resembling temporal power. Thaumaturges and sorcerers are carefully licensed, and while Essence expenditure is a common occurrence, it is rarely done without one manner of restraint or another.

But the times are changing. With the disappearance of the Empress, the intricate cogs of the machine are wearing down. Myriad factions, kept at bay by carefully planned conflicts and the Empress’ guiding hand, suddenly find that hand gone. The Great Houses are pulling their resources back to the Isle, preparing for civil war, while the spirits are finding less and less Immaculate interference. Like all of Creation, the Blessed Isle is subject to the ravages of the Time of Tumult, and while, for now, the various parties maintain an unsteady peace, the entire Realm is little more than a massive powder keg just waiting for the right spark.
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The Blessed Isle

The Heart of the world. The seat of the Scarlet Empresses power. Nesting place of the Dynastic Dragon Blooded families. Once the homeland of the gods before they retired to heaven, now it houses the greatest empire in creation.


The Blessed Isle is a part of Creation.

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#, as written by Sepokku
"A great warrior-poet once said, 'The Realm is a wonderful place, and worth fighting for.' I agree with the first part." Ragara's words drawled as she had drunk more than her fill that night, her partner barely listening as she slurred out random thoughts about the state of the Realm. "And that is before the Empress comes back as Akuma, then we're all Fooked!" Her company would set out again soon, one of the Sesus military troops. Ragara had exalted some years ago, but that hadn't rocketed her up the ranks like she always imagined it would.

"Bloody lineage! It's a rigged fooking game here in the Realm!" She took another long draught of her ale, before turning a wry eye to the leader of their group. Queen Bitch of Sesus ran this group, some kind of holy graduate from the Immaculate Order, one that had successfully slain at least one Anathema, and routed many others. "Bitch..." Ragara muttered under her breath. With a snort, she turned towards the tavern keeper, "Another round for me and my mate, make it quick, ya hear?"

Ragara enjoyed the clout her position gave her, make no wrong, rather it was the lack of advancement her blood forced upon her that she resented. Lowborn Dragon-Blooded were basically Kings of the shite in the Realm. Not quite peasants, but also not high-born; their chance of establishing a respectable dynasty was next to nothing. Ragara breathed a contemptible sigh, "At least im not a Northern Barbarian..."