The Jester
Cipher
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2020
- Messages
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I, the Forgotten One is a 450,000-word interactive novel by John Louis.
You are the late King's eldest child and royal bastard. Disinherited and tossed aside, you were sent off as a child to fight in the distant frontier of the kingdom, to die forgotten and unknown.
However, you survived, and have been shaped into an instrument of war.
With the realm now in turmoil, you've been called upon to once more bloody your blade.
You must restore peace, by any means necessary.
Even as you feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper into a pit of despair.
******
Arming sword: The arming sword the archetypal sword: basic and one-handed.
Bastard sword: A bastard sword is the weapon in between the arming sword and the longsword in terms of length. It can be comfortably used with one or two hands.
Brigandine: A more advanced, later period version of the coat of plates. The steel plates used in brigandine are much smaller than those used in a coat of plates. This armor was as prevalent, if not more than the typical full plate suits associated with knights, but is woefully underrepresented in media.
Coat of plates: Armor made out of a set of steel plates, held together by a layer fabric, or occasionally leather, visible on the outside. Later versions of this armor, such as the brigandine, used smaller and smaller plates.
Consumption: See "White Death" Dame: Female equivalent of "Sire" Gambeson: Armor made out of multiple thick sheets of linen or wool, worn as a padded jacket. An extremely common and cheap form of protection on the battlefield.
Half-swording: A sword fighting technique where the wielder uses their off-hand to grip the blade itself. It was a common technique often employed to target the weak points in a suit of armor.
Heater shield: A medium sized shield that straps to the off-hand with leather straps.
Kite shield: A large shield that straps the off-hand with leather straps. It is typically, as the name implies, shaped like a kite. Though size may vary, most were large enough to comfortably cover the body from neck to toe.
Small beer: A common drink consumed daily in medieval times. It is cheaper and has much less alcohol than other beers and ale. Waterborne disease were incredibly common before the days of water purification, meaning that alcoholic drinks were consumed instead. Small beer was often the substitute for water.
Queen consort: The wife of the current king.
Queen dowager: The widow of the former king.
Queen regent: A queen who takes temporary control over the kingdom in the absence of a king fit to rule, or in the king's stead.
Queen regnant: A queen who holds the same powers as a king.
White Death: Not to be confused with The Black Death, "White Death" is a more archaic term for Tuberculosis.
Bastard sword: A bastard sword is the weapon in between the arming sword and the longsword in terms of length. It can be comfortably used with one or two hands.
Brigandine: A more advanced, later period version of the coat of plates. The steel plates used in brigandine are much smaller than those used in a coat of plates. This armor was as prevalent, if not more than the typical full plate suits associated with knights, but is woefully underrepresented in media.
Coat of plates: Armor made out of a set of steel plates, held together by a layer fabric, or occasionally leather, visible on the outside. Later versions of this armor, such as the brigandine, used smaller and smaller plates.
Consumption: See "White Death" Dame: Female equivalent of "Sire" Gambeson: Armor made out of multiple thick sheets of linen or wool, worn as a padded jacket. An extremely common and cheap form of protection on the battlefield.
Half-swording: A sword fighting technique where the wielder uses their off-hand to grip the blade itself. It was a common technique often employed to target the weak points in a suit of armor.
Heater shield: A medium sized shield that straps to the off-hand with leather straps.
Kite shield: A large shield that straps the off-hand with leather straps. It is typically, as the name implies, shaped like a kite. Though size may vary, most were large enough to comfortably cover the body from neck to toe.
Small beer: A common drink consumed daily in medieval times. It is cheaper and has much less alcohol than other beers and ale. Waterborne disease were incredibly common before the days of water purification, meaning that alcoholic drinks were consumed instead. Small beer was often the substitute for water.
Queen consort: The wife of the current king.
Queen dowager: The widow of the former king.
Queen regent: A queen who takes temporary control over the kingdom in the absence of a king fit to rule, or in the king's stead.
Queen regnant: A queen who holds the same powers as a king.
White Death: Not to be confused with The Black Death, "White Death" is a more archaic term for Tuberculosis.
******
"Nasze dziady swoje miecze,
obmywali w oceanach.
A my ojców swoich winy,
obmywamy w swoich ranach."
- Old Polish Song, "Pieśń Wojów"
"Our forefathers had their weapons,
washed in the vastness of the ocean.
And the sins of our fathers,
shall be paid off in our blood."
- English Translation
Chapter 1 - A Brewing Crisis
The king is dead.
It happened before anyone could react. Good King Sobik of House Stiedry, struck dead at forty-nine years. His reign was a troubled one.
Whether he deserved to go out in a carriage ambush is something you haven't yet decided. You have no love for the late king, your father, not since what he and your "mother" did to you. Not one tear fell from your eyes.
However, the past feels distant now as the wind whips across your face. Your mount struggles beneath you from the long and painful trip. You've ridden as fast as you could, ahead of the rest of the bodyguards, desperate to inform the royal family of the grim news.
Now, your journey is at an end. You and your mount bound up a final hill, quickly dodging a peasant's cart as you reach the top. Squinting from the bright, late-summer sun, you take in the great walled fortress city of Wrido, the capital of the crown.
It has been a long time since you last went on a forced march. The breakneck pace you set was painful but bearable. At least for you. Your poor mount, weighed down by you and your full kit stowed across his body, looks like he's at death's door.
As you inhale the hot summer air and feel the familiar ache of a body at march, a pang of nostalgia hits you.
It has truly been too long, you think.
You drive your tired mount further and further, charging through the city's open gates. You dodge past startled peasants and wave off guardsmen as you bolt through the streets.
Wrido is a large town, but one you know like the back of your hand. You had grown up here once, before you were a soldier. Before you were disinherited and cast down from your position. Back when you were still the crown prince of Kanton.
You remember your father grooming you to be a strong king. You remember the compliments to your strength and appearance. You remember when the world made sense.
You remember when you fell away from it all.
Absentmindedly, you rub the stumps where your ring fingers used to be, a habit your mother seems to hate with a searing passion.
You were seven when it all happened. They all cried the word "bastard," one you knew not the meaning of. All that you knew was that there was no more fine clothes, fine music, fine food, but most importantly, no more love.
Mother grew hateful. Father grew distant. And your world was shattered.
With no other life to turn to, you became a soldier. It was your father who started you down that path. It was he who placed you into training, only days after your fall.
Perhaps he was preparing you for something.
Perhaps he just wanted you out of the way.
You hardly notice as your horse shakily bounds up the steps toward the inner citadel, the city a blur around you. You're still locked in your thoughts.
For years, you slaved away, unloved and unnoticed. You remember the confusion of your twin younger brothers, the new crown princes, when they weren't allowed to play with you.
But most of all, you remember The War.
It had started swiftly, and you were dragged into it just as swiftly.
At first, the soldiers were skeptical. A fifteen-year-old boy to lead them?
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