Fantasy BoN: Medevial Age

[Trektek]

BoN: Medieval Age

It was the Second Age. The world had changed much since the last one. But now it is an age of Kings and Queens. Some rule with an Iron Fist, while others extend an olive branch to learn and grow from the other nations and cultures that exist about. Parasitic plants arrive from beyond the stars at the same time as long lost travelers re-emerge from the Faewilds.

Who knows what sort of events will take place in this realm of possibility. Will it be one of never ending war or growth through trade or even sabotage and espionage. Will Demons or Parasites or even dark gods rule from beyond the void? Or will the forces of Good and Light prevail over them.

It is time to find out within this Second Age, to discover what will be its lasting image that will put ink to the page. In the year of 1201, in Springtime, it all shall begin……


—-------------------------------

Rumormill

“I heard tales of a Giant Flesh Monster in a Cave in the Southern Peninsula.”

“Is there a Ghost in the North near the crashed sky city? Moaning can be heard there. Where those weird slime people lived a thousand years ago.”

“A Golden Age. That's what this weird Red Cult is offering. We should check it out.”

“I hear tell of that dangerous swamp. Someone saw strange plant/people hybrids or people that looked like plants. It’s crazy.”

“Watch out for bandits. I hear they are getting bolder since the God King hasn’t been seen for a few months.”

" Things have been quiet in the lands of The Iron King. His vassals have managed to keep good order."

—------------------------------

A reminder that there are two actions a turn. Movement will be one territory a turn unless having a mount of vehicle of some kind or having access to roads. Each Turn is one season. Four turns equals one in game year. Mercenary contracts will be available on a season by season basis. The Auctioneer shall hold ONE set of THREE auctions a year in WINTER. Each player can ONLY participate in ONE of the three auctions. So choose wisely. Once you place a bid, you can’t participate in another auction.

 

[Forged in Flame]

The Grand Hive was flourishing. Well, as flourishing as one could get when you were settled in the remains of your history. The Grand Queen remembered many things. What one experienced, all did. She remembered the brave champion Gayla, or the savvy emissary Tersk. But there were other things she had forgotten as well. The Flesh Wars' conclusion and the sleep that followed after she had been struck down had affected the memory of the Tide greatly- but those memories of greatness could be recovered.

And even then, their core memory and desire had not been snuffed out. To swarm, expand. To conquer and consume. The world had awoken once more, having completed its ascension to a new era. Where once men with stone blades walked now walked men with iron and clad in steel. The farthest reaching scouts had reported such things, but little more. The Hive had been repaired to a functioning state, and workers toiled here and there, continuing to expand, gathering food. The grubs, taken under control and optimized, processed food into organic paste to be consumed.

The Grand Hive was never quiet; it was never asleep. And amongst these never ending workers, a peculiar insect knelt before the Queen. It's carapace was a dull, glossy brown, and they stood on two legs. Four arms remained on the ground, supporting its weight. Mandibles clacked softly as it listened to the chittering sounds of the Queen's missives. Thryssk, the sole Sovereign of the Black Tide, listened patiently to the orders he was receiving. Dispatch an Envoy with workers and grubs to collect biomass so that I may lay even more eggs to contribute to our numbers. You personally shall lead a group of warriors to scout the surrounding areas and see to it there are no threats. If there are any points of interest, deploy pheromones so we may explore further.

He listened, and he obeyed. Sovereigns were more than mindless minions- they were sentient, cognizant beings. They were the trusted confidants of the Queens, and the second in command of hives. Lessers had no choice but to obey, but they themselves chose to follow. Not only because they were bred and made for that purpose, but because they alone could recognize the greatness of their Mothers, and remained entirely devoted to the cause of their ultimate mission. With little noise, Thryssk slowly stood up, turning and marching through the large tunnels.

The Grand Hive's tunnels tended to vary in size- the central chambers had expanded greatly, carved directly from rock by the formidable Rock Worms, currently the most powerful and destructive lesser engineered by the Grand Queen. How she had managed that remained unseen, but it was, to this day, hailed as a crowning achievement of the Cognitors. Other tunnels further out had a smaller circumference, having been excavated and reinforced by the lesser workers. Scuttling along the ground, several spider like creatures flowed around him, desperately hunting for something to eat.

The pouncers did a fine job of keeping the Nest clean. The Black Tide remembered its origins, but it was no more friendly to normal insects than anyone else. None could walk within the hive without permission. He watched idly as one of the pouncers lunged, its form blurring as it managed to catch a cockroach in its tiny mandibles. He continued forward, advancing through the chambers until he came to a relatively nondescript one. "The Queen has spoken." The familiar words spoken in their native tongue drew all compound eyes upon him. Thryssk's antennae waved slightly, subtly gesturing towards one of the smaller antlike creatures. This one was more humanlike, having less sharp edges, barely any mandibles to speak of. It retained only two legs and arms as well, and a segmented body conducive to finer movements. It's antennae flicked softly, indicating acknowledgement. The two exchanged a flurry of messages, and the Envoy departed swiftly to collect its ensemble.

The other Envoys, sensing they were no longer needed, returned to their administrative duties, assisting the hive architects. Thryssk departed, and gathered a group of warriors. In some ways, they looked like him and the drones. But these ones were even bigger, with singular torsos lacking segments for proper bending. Not as flexible, but durable and hardy. Their mandibles clicked softly as they assembled wordlessly, the group hearing his request before he had even spoken. In the Tide, words were but a suggestion, after all. "We will scout and explore. Seek anything of interest." The warriors' heads dipped slightly in assent. Two pairs of arms on each went to grab weapons, simplistic but durable facsimiles of proper weapons. The Tide were familiar with iron and smithing; it was a prerequisite for this era, but it was not a priority for them.

Claws and jaws would work just as well. Only Thryssk himself wielded a proper blade, a sharp edged weapon of fine craft plucked from a fallen Knight. It had served him well, and it would continue to do so, until his death. A soft rumbling echoed through the tunnels as two groups departed. One spread out in all directions, a small wave of grubs branching out to find things to consume, while a smaller group headed off in a single direction, purpose behind their steps. The Black Tide were moving once more, but only time would tell what they would find and where their steps took them.


ACTION 1: Gather Biomass and attempt to increase MP through O P T I M I Z A T I O N
ACTION 2: Thryssk personally leads a small detachment of warriors on a scouting mission with the intent of finding anything of interest in the area

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

King Staunir Thunderheart - The Thunderheart Kingdom
TURN 1

It has been so many years since the Goliaths last met with the Wizard in his tower. The Shifting of the World and the great wars since had separated them. When the First Thunderheart had met him, Great Alexandros had expressed it as one of his few regrets- that the Goliaths had to leave their ancient homeland, and their oldest of friends, behind in such a manner. King Staunir sets sail south, the Goliaths cheering as they set off from harbor. At last, the Kingdom was at peace and united- Enough to travel outwards, enough to seek distant horizons.

He stands at the prow, spear-staff in hand, and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, they shine with the stark white of the lightning. The sky ROARS with thunder, and a terrible wind fills the sails- the whole ship lurches like a thing possessed, as it begins to crash through the waves. The smell of ozone is heavy on the howling gales that surround the ship, but Staunir just laughs.

And the Goliaths begin to sing.

"The Raging Storm, Thunder in our veins
As life will wax and wane
Like music, we'll call your winds once more
To sail to another shore.

The gold of a silent past, the moon in silver cast
It's shine, a vision quest, for us, it gives no rest
Through the beat of time, the flowing waves of rhyme
We are guided by Alexandros's Eye (the all-seeing eye)

On the dreaming sea, where Lightning sets us free
Free of our worldly cares, we become corsairs
And into wondrous worlds, we go with sails unfurled
To battles lost and won, to madness and beyond..."

---

Action 1 - The Wizard of Flame
Send a small expedition of elite warriors and adventurers to the Flame Tower. See if they can re-establish contact with the Flame Wizard and his wife, after so long. The Goliaths were united once again, and now they can set sail without fear in their hearts. What better to do than reforge the old oaths of friendship?

Action 2 - Saying Hello To The Neighbors
A diplomatic delegation will visit Aeturnus to make favorable diplomatic contact with local leaders. Hopefully, information can be acquired about the surrounding lands to their immediate south, and knowledge about their trade dispositions. They could also learn more about this 'Forge' and the Well Ruins... Perhaps they even had need of Goliath sailors to take their goods to distant lands, or Goliath Warriors to defend them in glorious battle. For a reasonable fee, of course. The Goliaths needed to eat. A small first step, but an important one.

 

[Crocodile]

Grand Master Ferrovane - Iron Pact - Turn 01​

---

The Iron Citadel thrummed with sounds work. Iron Thralls worked in various roles in the foundries and forges, overseen by ranking member of the Iron Pact or at least faithful adherents to the Pact. Supplicants were always shown some trust with the Iron Thralls to ensure a feeling of welcome into the Pact, to show they could have the opportunity to prove themselves as they forged their own bonds with the Iron God. Gears grinded and metal shifted as vast machines churned with the great fortress as a metallic figure moved about a chamber at the highest levels of the Citadel.

Grand Master Ferrovane moved with deliberate purpose as his metallic talons carefully retrieved a cylinder and extracted a map from it. One of the various items they had pillaged from Moonhold before leaving the fallen city. He mentally scoffed at the place the Pact was born, resenting on some level that he had been forced to become this thing to have any choice or power in the world. He could barely remember his past, but he remembers the Pact seizing him and dragging him to this place. The ritual and his seeming death as they killed his body upon an forge altar of the Iron God. The cold embrace of iron as his soul was forced into an Iron Thrall.

Ferrovane paused and looked at his metallic hand, flexing it as he mused over how far he had come. From Iron Thrall to Iron Liche, one of the rulers of the Iron Pact. No, he was greater than that, for he was now the Grand Master of the entire Pact. The hapless prisoner turned slave had now become the master. Some would have probably used this power to destroy or tear down the Pact from the top. That was not the case here, for Ferrovane had felt the power of the Iron God, witnessed its gifts and miracles for his sacrifices and offerings. Power changed perspective and it perhaps made him accept the Pact's tendency for raiding to seize more souls to sacrifice their flesh and bind them into metal if they did not convert. He had seen the pain, the pointlessness of resistance, emerging out the other side to see the rewards of embracing their great patron.

His glowing eyes refocus as he looks back to the map. Ironflow needed more resources and more Thralls, to continue their work. There was also the need build a barrier wall against the south and its Iron King. Those glowing orbs of eyes narrow at that thought, pondering if the Pact could bend the Iron King to the ways of the Iron God. Only time would tell, as other problems existed. These monks to the north were problematic and a potential opposition to the Pact's needs and purpose. His metallic hand moves to shift a metal marker, representing a raider force onto the Maweater Tribe.

"Time to recruit more, let us see who will be found worthy, and who will need to walk the hard path of the Iron God's gift," Ferrovane mused as he pulled a lever to trigger a chime to summon a Templar to issue the orders.

---

Actions
1: Move to and Raid the Maweater Tribe for potential converts and Thralls
2: Build a mine to feed the needs of Ironflow.

 

[Squad141]

The Pinstripe Fellowship
Turn I

It had been many years and many ages since the Fellowship had any focus, though a new start seemed to be brewing. A new leader had been elected, the latest among several hundred across the century: Mayor O'Lantern. Few recognized that he had a single seed in him that descended from one within the first Jack, Mayor Horner, though that rarely swayed the decision. The old barn haven, despite still acting as a center of community, seemed not to be as grand as it once was. A few homes with domed roofs surrounded what was now known as Hayloft Haven. but with the increase of species to the Fellowship (up to six, now, and that wasn't counting the harvest companions or those that were learning to become Rings), a new age must allow some forms of growth.

O'Lantern began thinking up plans for aid the Fellowship going forward. First, they should begin to expand their civilization a little more, though with a focus on the Second, which is to continue Horner's efforts to transform the Ashurst forest from a perpetually barren region to one lush with life. The arrival of the Eotian, those wizened trees, only made this a bigger push in O'Lanterns head. On top of that, there was to be an upgrade to the Fellowship's pilgrimage; the Pinstripe Carnival would be travelling further than it ever had before due to some rumors of the world getting ever bigger, and it was unknown how many years they might be gone, telling their tales and running their games.

Actions

• Continue the plan from many years ago; slowly tend the land so that the Fellowship may expand, with a focus on allowing the Ashurst forest to flourish instead of remaining forever dreary. Lush trees and spots of grass are a dream that could one day be real.
• Supply the Pinstripe Carnival for it's trip. They are being supplied to last 5 years, but are not leaving Hayloft Haven as of yet.

 

[Moopy07]

The Sisterhood of Hel

In the realms of the Brotherhood, life continued as it had for decades. In the living sectors, people farmed what they needed to survive and gave any surplus to the community. And in the dead sectors, the previous generations dating back almost to the reign of Canute Bjornson - though most of the older undead just sit there observing and offering wisdom as their bones slowly turn to dust. The rest work and if they do not work then they fight, mostly each other but often a group of the living will join them.

In recent times spottings of women in red veils were becoming common; however, few paid attention as most assumed it was some kind of religious pilgrimage. However, unbeknownst to the population, these veiled individuals were Acolytes of the Grand Mother, Helga Bjornside. In their homes deep beneath the mountains, the Sisters, under the guidance of Helga, have slowly been regaining their influence, corrupting the minds of many influential people to unknowingly serve their will.

Now, having near complete control of the Brothers, The Mother has come up with a multi stepped plan to improve the standards of the Brothers on the continent and as such giving the Sisters their chance to expand their influence.


Actions

Action 1:
The foundation/expansion of a navy

Seeing the Strategic position of the capital, with the only approach being by sea or across a bridge that can easily be held by the skeletal hordes that is the Brotherhood army. Helga has decided that it would be wise to shore up the only evident military weakness, the Navy. The absence of a focus on this from the Brotherhood's leadership being yet another reason for her and her Sisters to see their evident superiority.

Action 2:
The beginning of commercial farming

Seeing that much of the population participated in subsistence farming keeping only themselves alive, Helga has decided that this is what the new economy's foundation will be. As such, through her corrupted subjects, she has began pushing a campaign to try and get people to grow more than what they needed so that the surplus can be used for trade to build a new economy.

 

[palmtree219]

Bur Nettle
The Greatest Friend
Turn 1​

---

Bur Nettle gurgled pleasantly as it surveyed the land that was... well, Bur Nettle. So much him, and so much room for more him. How wonderful! Unfortunately, the land outside of his wonderful little self seemed rather grey and drab, no where near as pleasantly lively as himself. Ah well, that can be fixed with time. And, and, and...! Just on the other side of the wall of big, pointy rocks was... water? It felt like water, but Bur Nettle never tasted water like that before... And there was so much! So much more room to grow, so many more potential friends waiting on the horizon... Now. How to grow in this weird-tasting water...

---

Actions:

1) Begin terraforming the Giant's Spine to be more Bur Nettle-y. This will focus on terraforming the mountains south of Bur Nettle's current location first, growing photosynthetic Bur Nettle parts along the peaks to begin generating more bioenergy.

2) Flail playfully at the water's edge on the east side of the Giant's Spine, hopefully catching and assimilating a couple fish, algae, and/or coastal undersea plants.

 

[General Deth Glitch]

Inkle Quillen

Spoiler: Song Thyme

Inkle Quillen awoke from a lovely slumber, his neighbours were already singing a chirpy morning song as he hopped down Kwerkus' branches to gather up supplies for a tasty breakfast. Chirpy Songs were not his style but he enjoyed the sense of joy all the same as he gathered up some tasty morsels from the great tree's roots. Humming his own slightly less upbeat tune as he made himself a tasty little soup he found his light was suddenly blocked. He didn't even look up, keeping his humming going as he grabbed a shell and dipped it in to his pot of soup before offering it up and returning to his humming. The Shadow above him accepted the bowl and took a seat next to the Raven, quietly slurping away at the offered soup before waiting for Inkle to conclude doing the same
"Inkle" Said the form next to him, who he finally looked over to see head of the Last Acorn Knights as the Knight continued "Has he said anything?" came the authoritative voice, referring the Kwerkus.
There was a brief pause, the silence broken as Inkles humming continued while both of them soaked up the morning suns before the Raven replied "Not as of yet... about his sickness... but he has... communicated that we need to grow the wood. We need more Oaken Groves... that will help..." He said cheerfully with a friendly smile as he hopped up and stretched his wings, flapping them a couple times as he continued humming "Eat up" he added before he flew away, leaving the frustrated Squirrel with the soup.

Flying high in to the sky above the canopy of the grove below, Inkle took in the spring air before swooping down, circling once around the Great tree before settling down in the heart of the tree's branches, a small little sanctuary filled with lots of shiny rocks, pretty reflective pieces of metal abandoned by the big people and other adornments the Raven had spied on his journeys. Rufflings his feathers as he settles down before sitting still in thought and meditation. Once, it was said the tree communicated with force and direction, his words clear and his intention unclouded... but since the decay reached his great roots... since then his communication was vague, foggy. It took a great deal of Focus for Inkle to interpret the knowledge of the ancient oak... but that was his task. He was the Tree tender, the first Raven to take on the task, though many other birds had taken the role before him, it was most often squirrels and badgers who the tree connected too, and many of the forebirds were owls... wise creatures, creatures of thought and strength and will... but Inkle was none of that... and yet he was the voice of the Oak...

After many hours of thoughtful contemplation and slow and steady communication with the tree he knew he was right.. they needed more groves, more oaks to prop up the old tree... surely the tree wasn't reaching the end of his life... such a being was immortal, surely... but regardless... the Great Oak needed oaken allies... he would have to talk with the Knights... they would need to help the Jaybirds spread the the Oaks last acorns... the spots would need to be perfect... but Kwerkus would guide him... maybe that was why he was chosen... he was good at finding interesting things... maybe he needed to find interesting places...

---

ACTION 1 - The Knights of the Last Acorn will begin scouting out The Farmstead to the west of the wood to see it a suitable location for a grove can be established therein.

ACTION 2 - Inkle Quillen travels north across to the waste to explore the possibility of growing a lush forest in such an inhospitable environment and to see if anything will grow there

 

[Crumbli]

The Mystic Khanate - Heritage of Hoof and Horn
Turn 001​

Botu Khan, Agula
It was early morning when people began to gather outside the wooden walls of Agula's inner ring. These walls encircled an unnatural looking hill and sat firmly atop that hill was one of its few permanent structures. Made of wood and stone it had always been the one truly neutral place for the tribes. Now it was the Palace of Agula and was known to be the place of Botu Khan and the Nameless Prophet, though none had seen the latter for some time.

The gates swung open and the people were invited inside to hear their Khan's commands. Many voices contested with one another as they funneled through the gate and into the palace doors. Inside sat Botu. He was elevated on a platform that was covered in colourful rugs and furs. Pillows lined the floor before him and would be the offering of comfort for members of influence who had gotten there first.

Within minutes a quiet had washed over the hall and everyone had found a place to sit or to lean in comfort. Seeing their silence as readiness, he began. "Your Khan speaks, and you will listen. So is the nature of things!"
"So is the nature of things!" They responded in unison.
"I have spoken with our Nameless Prophet who shares the wisdom of Ivan and the Astral. They assure me that this will be the time of our great unification. They insist this world is ours and that the time of true revelation is upon all. They have said to me that there has been a great fattening of the world that demands harvest before it turns rancid and poisons itself. I have spoken with your leaders of whom, in their wisdom, submitted to me in my ascension to Khan. They have spoken for you and I have heard you. There will be a great raid!"

The room erupted with hollers and cheers but was short lived when Botu raised his hand.
"However, the reports I have been given are incorrect. One of you says there is a city east, another west, some say south and when I look they point me north. I will not risk our horses in raids where we know no direction. Those of you whom I have left some authority, send your chosen scouts in all directions and find for me the truth. When we know where the scales are tipped against balance, we will strike and restore them. So is the nature of things."
"So is the nature of things," responded a much smaller portion of the room. The air became tense and Botu noticed this. "Those of you who cannot hunt, and those of you who cannot scout, I ask of you to build or to find those who can. This city is where we shall build the Mystic Dynasty and where the living prophet will rule upon return. It is in dire need of makeover, I suspect."

With a clap of his hands, he dismissed the people from his summons. Many would continue to linger and negotiate but were encouraged to do so outside the palace. When the last of the guests had left and the doors were closed, Botu stood and made his way to the stables. From there he would saddle his horse and exit the city's walls to the nearby countryside. Here he would watch to see where the scouting parties would go, when they would go, and would muse over the luxury of fitting in a recreational hunt.

---

ACTIONS

1) Scout out local sites of interest - Information on local sites varies from tribe to tribe under the Khan. To consolidate geographical understandings, Botu has sent out small teams to the nearest sites of interest. These sites are the Well Ruins, the Forge, and Quarmley Manor. The scouts have been instructed to avoid detection where possible, but they have authority to open dialogue on the Khan's behalf.

2) Fortify Agula (RP pts) - The Khan's seat of power is loosely defended and unimpressive. This must change if there's to be a lasting mystic dynasty. A mission has been sent out by the Khan to assemble the best builders and architects available to them.

 

[Obsidian]

~ Turn 1 ~
Honorborne
~ The Dominion of the Knightly Order ~​

• Our Greatest Weapon
• The March on Lakeside
• Actions

• 
  Standing before the doors of the war room, Marcus takes a breath. Now comes the moment that will change his life forever. He will either become a legend amongst his people, or die as Honorborne's greatest failure. Gathering himself, Marcus nods to the awaiting knights, and they opened the doors for him, striding inside to meet his destiny.
  
  As Sir Marcus stepped into the war room, four faces turned to him, the Exalts of Honorborne. They all stand before a grand oak table with a sprawling map of the known world laid out. Figurines atop the map denote various powers throughout the continents, with the position of Honorborne standing particularly significant on the map, with the figurine of Lakeside standing all too uncomfortably close. The realm of the Sorceror King, Lakeside has been a long standing enemy of Honorborne, and Marcus eyes the city with quiet fury. Turning to the Exalts, only four have joined this audience.
  
  "Ah, Sir Marcus," Sir Richard speaks, his voice deep and foreboding, standing tall and dark in his black armour. "So glad you could join us. We have been discussing preparations for the war to come. I trust that you have settled into your new duties well enough?"
  
  "Yes, yes, can we please skip the pleasantries?" An impatient voice cuts off the Exemplar before he can open his mouth, the voice of Dame Miranda fills the room, and she strides forward in her lighter and more practical armour, dyed a rich and deep blue. Dame Miranda approaches the Exemplar, and takes his right hand in hers. "Hold still, please," she commands, her words all too quick and easily spoken, as though she has been giving orders all her life. Sir Marcus simply observes, and watches as Dame Miranda takes his arm and turns his hand, palm up, before she draws out an unfamiliar object from her satchel.
  
  "What is that?" Marcus cannot help but ask, but Miranda simply barks, "Quiet!"
  
  The Exalt brings up the object, some manner of hexagonic rod, one with two seams splitting the rod in three, yet they do not come apart. The rod possesses runes, with a different rune on each side of a section, with each sections runes being distinct from each other. Sir Marcus did not recognise the runes, but he knew all too well that they were the work of negation. Dame Miranda carefully places the rod upon the forearm of his armour, slotting the rod into a recess in his armour that the Exemplar had not noticed before, and he looks at Miranda questioningly. Has she altered his armour without him knowing about it?
  
  "There." Miranda speaks, her tone much more calmer and more amiable, though not overly so. "It fits. Good."
  
  "To answer your question, Sir Marcus, what I have just fixed to your arm is the ultimate cumilation of my life's work." She says, looked to the Exemplar with a proud smile. "This is the Negator's Amplifier. With it, you will be able to perform feats some would consider to be magical, but it is not. You will, however, be able to do things with negation that was simply impossible before today. This version of the Negator's Amplifier is only a prototype, and its capabilities are limited, but I have great hopes that one day, every soldier in our army would have one of these, and be able to do things with it that can only be imagined today."
  
  "See," Miranda looks to the Amplifier, drawing Marcus's attention down to it, and she rotates the three sections, each one turning and clicking into place, showing a different rune on each side. "These runes form combinations, allowing us to focus and concentrate our negation into specified effects. I have devised only a few effects at the moment, but with time and further study, there will be a great deal more we can do with the Amplifier."
  
  "You two can play with your new toy later," Sir Richard interrupts. "Now is the time to finally wipe the Sorceror King off the map."
  
  Dame Miranda tuts and sighs in impatience, but otherwise says nothing as Sir Marcus is released and allowed to step forward toward the other Exalts. Sir Richard smirks as the Exemplar stands opposite from him across the table.
  
  "What you have done, Sir Marcus, has set into motion what we have been waiting for," Sir Richard began. "Your predecessor, Sir Alfred, was a man of... limited vision. Our forces have been ready for an invasion of Lakeside for some time, but Sir Alfred was unwilling to commit to an offensive, in spite of all that our nation has endured these past two hundred years. He insisted that we were not ready, he insisted that the danger was too great. Even as the Sorceror King's plans against us came to light, thanks to you, the Exemplar would still choose to do nothing, and he refused us for the last time. Sir Alfred showed us nothing but weakness and cowardice, faults that you have proven are... refreshingly lacking in you. As the Knight who delivered us from devastation, it is only right that you, and no other, would have the honor of leading our forces to crush the Sorceror King once and for all."
  
  "Yes, though this will not be an easy victory," Sir Edwin, Exalt of the Mantle, spoke up. "The Sorceror King's domain has long been well-guarded and well-fortified. Taking Lakeside will be a challenge, but not an insurmountable one. Thanks to your efforts in thwarting Ordred's invasion, and with Dame Miranda's advances in Negation, now is our greatest opportunity to destroy the Sorceror King. Make no mistake, he will seek to strike at us once more should we let this chance slip passed us. We cannot fail."
  
  "I can report that all acquisitions have been made for the invasion," Sir Caspian speaks up, adorned in his emerald green regalia. "Food, water, and all other essentials have been gathered. We have also commissioned some siege works to be erected, to bring down the walls of Lakeside. Once they are completed, you will have all the materiel we can offer you, Sir Marcus."
  
  "Thank you. You have all shown me great faith by granting me this opportunity to destroy Ordred." Sir Marcus says, his thoughts turning back to his adventures. "I have seen first hand of the horrors the Sorceror King is capable of. What he and his Kingdom have done, the countless lives they have taken, is far beyond forgivable. I will bring back Ordred's head, or die trying, I swear it."
  
  "Of that, I have no doubt." Sir Richard says with a smile.
  
• 
  The march upon Lakeside is a long and grim ordeal. Beyond what remains of the walls of Honorhold stretches out the lands of the Dominion. Everywhere one may go in this land, the scars of these past two hundred years of war are bare for all for see. Once grand and proud fortresses now lie in ruin, some of it yet still smouldering from magical fires that will never burn out, their walls and towers shattered like cheap glass, blasted apart by magic. Once green and fertile lands now lie barren and lifeless, the ground blighted by all manner of magical curses, rendering whole stretches of territory uninhabitable and abandoned. The worst are the towns, pillaged and burned to the ground time and time again, to the point that no one even dares to return to collect the dead, all who fell against the onslaught of magic. Walking through crumbling town square, the stench of rotting and mouldering dwellings thick in the air, the bleached skeletons of poor unfortunates, both big and very small, laid still in the streets.
  
  And again, the Sorceror King plotted to bring yet more misery to Honorborne, misery that Sir Marcus prevented. He sincerely wished his fellow adventurers had returned to Honorhold with him, they would have been celebrated as heroes as much as Marcus had, but they had their own paths to walk. Needless to say, there is little in this world that could turn Marcus from this path, and nor could the armies of Honorborne. Long have they sought revenge against the magical, and now they will finally get their chance. Whatever may come of the battle, it will shape Honorborne and Lakeside irreveribly and forever.
  
  Eventually, the army would reach the boundaries of Lakeside, the city itself a grand monument to magical tyranny, standing so proudly upon the coast.
  
  Sir Marcus eyes the city, frowning in the knowledge that within lies Ordred, the Sorceror King. The Exemplar will either leave this city a ruin, or die trying.
  
• 
  
  ~ Action 1 ~
  Invasion Preparations​
  
  "Final preparations are made, the definitive battle has now come so close. We have built an army, through decade after decade of slow and determined effort, forging plate and blade and rune one by one. With Dame Miranda's latest advancements in her studies of Negation, we are sure to give those magicals one hell of a surprise. But, as certain that I am of our long awaited triumph, nothing can be left to chance. Every last effort must be made to assure our most glorious victory. Ordred and his Kingdom must be destroyed, once and for all. Our moment is finally at hand."
  
  [ Honorborne makes final preparations for the battle against Lakeside. Seige weapons are constructed, supplies gathered, and the army readied for the battle to come. ]
  
  ~~~~><~~~~
  
  ~ Action 2 ~
  Invasion of Lakeside, Kingdom of the Sorceror King​
  
  "200 years of endless torment shall finally come to an end. I knew destroying Ordred's vile schemes against Honorborne was only the beginning, and that I would - no, that I must - take the serpent's head by my own hand. Now, finally, our greatest enemy has been repelled from our lands and lies cornered within his own wretched kingdom. The Sorceror King has nowhere to run, and he will be made to face justice for all he and his kind have done to us. This will be the moment when magic, the greatest force known in this world, is laid low for the first time."
  
  [ Honorborne, led by Sir Marcus, invades the Kingdom of Lakeside, ruled by the infamous Sorceror King, Ordred the Black. ]​

 

[Trektek]

The Grand Hive Process:


EVENT: While searching around for more Biomass, a human wearing a purple suit and an odd wooden mask stops your group. It says that if you like, it will join The Grand Hive and follow your path. Or if that is unacceptable, it will give you a powerful item.

CHOOSE ONE:
Accept the Masked Man into your faction
Reject the Masked Man and Accept the Mystery Item
Reject the Masked Man and attempt to kill him for more Biomass

Action 1: Gather Biomass and attempt to increase MP through OPTIMIZATION

There is much biomass that can be assimilated for further optimization and increase the raw POWER of the Hive.
A caravan is passing through the Great Forest. It seems to contain not only many life forms within it, but also various materials. Some of the creatures alongside the caravan have weapons so it is most likely going to be a fight to acquire these goods. But victory could bring a HUGE BOOM to Biomass.
A large horde of Bovine are being moved across the region by a view rider lifeforms. A very good choice of large amounts of biomass with possibly very little fight
A group of humans with weapons seem to be chopping down trees in the forest. It is possible to kill them and steal their biomass as well as that of the chopped down trees

Action 2: Thryssk personally leads a small detachment of warriors on a scouting mission with the intent of finding anything of interest in the area

There are three sets of ruins in the region. The Water Market Ruins which 1000 year ago had been a thriving port city until it was destroyed by your ancestors during your alliance with the Flesh Prophets. The Vale Ruins which seem to be a series of structures that have been long abandoned. The Canyon Tower Ruins which seem to be the ruins of an ancient tower that had stood the test of time until recent decades when it was felled by an army of bandits.

Mistwood is not a ruin. However, it seems to be a misty maze. It might be possible to get lost within it. However, there might be great wonders trapped inside.

An additional mark of interest that was not on the map (Low roll means you only uncovered one additional thing)

A small tent city that has been erected around a giant golden statue of a Flesh Creature. It looks like a group of about 30 people in peasant clothing with 4 wearing no clothes speaking in front of the statue.


As you can ONLY have one scene per turn. Pick which of your actions you want to have as an adventure and which you want to autoresolve.

 

[Trektek]

The Thunderheart Kingdom Process:

EVENT:

During the travel on the High Seas, King Staunir Thunderheart heard a melodious sound. On a nearby rock lay a woman that was half fish and half woman. She continued to sing, oblivious to the men watching her. As their eyes became transfixed, they had stopped watching the waters and only watched her.

By the time that they realized the music had stopped, not only did they realize that the woman was gone, but that they were not where they had been. They had been taken by their own rowing to a small island that could not have been more than ten feet across.

On it lay a skeleton that lay on top of a wooden chest. Taking the skeleton off of the chest and opening it revealed 1 CP worth of gold and jewels.

Action 1; The Wizard of Flame

It was without much trouble that the Goliaths traveled the ancient paths after reaching landfall of the old lands. They followed all the landmarks as old tails were recounted to them by the village elders, passed down throughout the ages.

Until they arrived at the large, but squat red tinged tower of The Great Wizard Niktos of the Southern Flames. The door remained locked upon their approach and after a simple knock, a loud voice called out:

“WHO DARES APPROACH THE GREAT WIZARD NIKTOS OF THE SOUTHERN FLAME, ALLY OF THE GOLIATHS OF STORMWRAITH?”

(SCENE)


Action 2: Saying Hello to the Neighbors. Attempt to make diplomatic visit to Aeternus and uncover information about The Forge and the Well Ruins

The Diplomatic visit went very well. The L’Elfs (Lizard Elves) of Aeternus were the main ruling class of the island. Below them were the Lizard people and the Elves. The upper class of society are all powerful spellcasters, while those towards the bottom were warriors and laborers.

The delegation is met with Minister G’Orful, a L’Elf of prowess with illusionary magics. He spins tales with visuals of the dangers of The Forge. The story is known as The Folly of Mythanar. It shows how the elven Lord, Mythanar lost the majority of the elven army along with a fraction of the lizard army in a mad attempt to gain control of The Forge. Only one had survived this sad attempt. The Ancient High Elf, Nier.

Nier, The Mad Sorceress lives up in The Beast’s Eye if you want to ask her more about that dangerous place.

As for the Well Ruins, it is said that it once housed a dangerous creature that could engulf all of reality.

With the good diplomatic relations, you can attempt to open up trade routes with Aeturnus next turn.

 

[Wew the Polymath]

"All life flows down from the sun
The plants feast on the light
The beasts feast on the plants
And the men feast on the beasts"
- Marcilla, Hand of the Living Sun

The Metal Sea

---

Swimming through the torpid, entranced mind of Marcilla was the image of a great metal sea. There she sat on an island of flesh and sinew, the taut muscle keeping her afloat. The air was thick with the scent of rust and metal. Oiled metal, weathered brass, and pitted iron- all things that the scent seemed to emulate. But there was an undercurrent of something else...something sinister. A smell the surgeons of the flesh halls were quite accustomed to- blood and sliced open bodies. It clung to her nostrils and served as a reminder that she was an alien in foreign land.

Unlike the kind, voluntary procedures the prophets so kindly gave to those in need of health, this was someting different. She looked down from her flesh island, and saw a sight that turned her stomach. Men and women of all ages stripped naked in the metal sea. Tendrils of metal snaked under their skin, into their orifaces. Violating them and profaning them in a twisted mockery of lifesaving treatment. They screamed with raw throats and bloodshot eyes. They cried for someone- anyone to save them.

The sun was snuffed black. A great eclipse had swept across that shining constant that all prophets grounded themselves in. Shadows grew wide over the hellscape, bathing these damned souls to darkness and spiritual rot. The light was nowhere to be found.

Then there was the cold. It chilled her down to the bone. The prophets abhorred the cold. It was the antithesis to life growing. To the sun. And this place was locked in a foul, artificial winter. In the distance where great cylniders that vomitted cold air into the world.

Tears welled up in Marciall's eyes. Before her were people in pain- shivering and alone. The sun never touched them. She reached down from her flesh island, her arms growing long and muscular. Thick fingers scrabbled against the metal, trying to wrench a sobbing man from his metal confinement. A streak of gray lanced through her arm, severing it. Whatever the source was- it was too quick to even see.

Her blood congealed like thick grease, the pain not even registering. The blessings of ZOA functioned here, at least. It was a bitter reassurance.

Powerlessness.

Anointment

---

The Flesh-Hospitals of Solavet were abuzz with activity, at all times. Like a great clock, it ticked with nurses, doctors, mages, preists, and mindless thrulls. Despite the pus, blood, and shit that often flew about from the patients- the place always had a somewhat pleasent smell. Courtesy of Thelia the incense holder. She walked through this sacred place with a brass censer, swinging it to and fro and muttering prayers to the Soverign in the Sun.

Marcilla crashed through the doors after her trance, sick to her stomach and the nightmare still on her heels. For a time, she assisted the doctors and priests in healing. She spent the better portion of her time mending a gruesome war-wound belonging to a grizzled middle aged man. It appeared as though he was sliced with some kind of jagged blade that inhibited healing across his leg. Black rot furled from the wound, withering his leg and producing a putrid scent.

Holding hands with the doctor, Marcilla recited an ancient prayer to the Soverign. Sunlight floated through the stained-glass windows in the hospital, and touched the man's rot. A smell similar to burning hair rose from the wound, as the rot peeled back in crispy curls. The doctor's fingers cracked and shifted into long needles, tendons feeding into them like a gruesome thread. He stitched the veteran's wound closed with surpising speed.

Thelia the insense holer watched. Marcilla turned and put a hand on her shoulder, eyes wide. "Venture to the West. There, you will find a great castle. Speak. Speak on behalf of the Soverign. You may die. You will end with ZOA."

The hospital fell silent at this decree. The silence was only broken by Marcilla carving a single line down Thelia's head, with a dagger made from her own bone. She handed Thelia the dagger. "Do not let them take you."

Whispers

---

Thelia prayed before the altar in the center of Solavet. Before her was the most beautiful corpse she'd ever seen. It was the body of Selassie, angel of ZOA. The sun caressed her brown skin, softly illuminating her deilicate features. Even death couldn't mark the angel with its pallor. Great wings unfurled from her back, and gently wrapped around her body. Atop her head was a crown of a silvery metal. It was simple- a few metal spikes held together with a circlet. It almost seemed out of place. Surrounding the massive angel was a glass cage, spiderwebbed with gold filigree.

The other prophets told her Selassie was dead. Said she was touched for believing otherwise. But Thelia knew the truth. Selassie was just sleeping.

She pressed her hand against the glass and whimpered. "My love. Marcilla is sending me to my death. I...don't even know what she wants of me. I'm scared. Please...I know you can help me."

Selassie opened her eyes, turned, and pressed her hand against the glass, aligning it with Thelia's- as though she was trying to touch her through the glass. She responded in a voice that made Thelia want to cry with joy. "My love. My desert rose. They cannot hurt you. When the eternal dawn comes, I will pull your soul from any abyss, any hellscape to save you."

Thelia choked out a giddy laugh. "Do you swear it?"

"On my very soul."

The two sat in silence for what felt like an eternity.

"Why do you think Marcilla is sending me off?" Thelia finally said.

Selassie's face darkened. "It matters not. She is weak. I am not. When I awaken, I will guide you and your kin to a truer communion."

Those also visting the altar watched, quietly whispering to one another. Full an entire hour, Thelia sat by the altar gibbering to herself, and the body of their fallen angel Selassie as though she were alive and talking back.

Actions

---

Yea none of these have anything to do with my fluff thematically. Cry about it.
1. We are going to begin the classic flesh prophet creation- flesh vats (no, really. Every time I play flesh prophets this is the first thing we do). This won't be for science or war (yet). It's for food. We are going to try and create solar powered flesh vats. Medevil lab grown meat, yo. Better than starving. This meat can also be used as fertilizer to grow other crops (which we are trying to do as well, for a more PR friendly thing). Bonus: Flesh Hospital With Lab: Your Faction has a greater chance of gaining unit improvements and higher success with autopsies and flesh-related activities. Bonus: Eversun of the Skilled: Increases the chances of automatically gaining a Hero, new Spell, or improved weapons/armor.

2. Since Marcilla just needs to not get turbo obliterated for me to rez her, her and a few monks are going to step out of the temple and go on a bit of an adventure. Let's see what we can find!

3. Free action. Send crazy Thelia to talk to some evil iron liches. Let's hope croc is nice and doesn't kill my necrophiliac monk.