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"Lost Continent: Flight From Muurdaan" (BeckonCall's FNB!)

general ostruppen general ostruppen

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The very tall High Elven beauty inventor/artificer, nicknamed "The Gnome Beauty" for her interest in Gnomes and their technology was escorted by five serious looking High Elves to the Ports. She came to greet the New Dwarves and to interact with the recently arrived traders. She was dressed in peculiar looking armor for a Highborn. It was a blend of Highborn, Gnome and Dwarven design. It looked odd to most Highborn and perhaps even strange to Gnomes and Dwarves. Her helm was off and she had piercing, almost eerily stunning eyes, pointy ears and dark hairs with silver highlights. She had on her person various gadgets and weapons and a tool belt around her waist. On her waist was a large wrench that seemed to be both a tool and a weapon. She seemed eager to meet the Dwarves as she did not get out much being slaved by her Lord Prince.

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She Approached the Leader of the newly arrived Dwarves and greeted him in the Dwarven fashion.

She said in High Elven accented Dwarvish "Oz Ekor ath othok?" (Hello, how are you?) "Thorok Lakh!" (Good Day).
She continued, "Welcome to the Colony. My name is <long elven name> but people call me "Gnome". It is a pleasure to meet you. I was sent on behalf of our leader to Greet you and your people. I hope your voyage was good. If you are wondering why Highborn would be so receptive to Dwarves, who we do not see always see eye to eye with, and not just because we are so much taller, it is because here we must all work together or we will die. I am personally pleased that our Lord, his eminence, grace, fierce warrior of the East has eased his prejudice, because it means I can work more closely with Dwarven inventors. I have long been an admirer of Dwarven ingenuity. If you have any questions, or if there is something we can assist you with, do not hesitate to ask."
 
Nicholas found himself in a dilemma. It appeared that the Key'ed One believed that he was a survivor of the city somehow. However, that was clearly not true, but would the Key'ed One be understanding of the miscommunication? Nicholas did believe himself to be an artist, but it appeared that Spire 9 and Destruction believed that only allied humans of the city are artists. How would this behemoth of jerry rigged parts react to such a situation? Would it see this as a form a deceit? He was not here to be a diplomat, and was in no position to pretend to be something he was not. Heck, he could barely pretend to be paying attention during Council meetings. Regardless, Nicholas thought that clearing the misunderstanding would be the best option. After all, if Nicholas is not actually an allied artist, then he couldn't order Intact I to do anything. He would just come out clean and try to establish a friendship and a working relationship.

Nicholas therefore began to speak "Key'ed One, I am an artist, and I did fix Refurb 1. However, there appears to be some confusion. I am not a survivor of the city. I am an Attolian, among many others who have arrived to these lands. I am a visitor who seeks to learn more about these lands, the people and make friends and allies. I have come as an artist to Destruction to see if we could aid each other. I am an artist, but I am not alone; there are other artists too who can help restore Destruction. Some of them helped me repair Refurb 1, who you can ask if this is true. Refurb 1 saw the other artists who helped repair him. I do not wish to deceive you and I am trying to clear any misunderstandings that may exist. I apologize if I did say anything confusing, However, I wish to be an allied artist and help Destruction, but there is much that I do not know either of these lands. If there are any questions or requests that you have, I will be glad to answer them because I have come in order to become allies on behalf of the Attolians." He then looked at Helysoune and mouthed "Get ready to run if things go bad."

---

With the cannon project on hold while it gets more aid, the Engineer headed to the Agora District. He had heard of the chute that seemed to have suddenly opened and swallowed 5 Attolians. He had been thinking about how to recover them, for now they needed a way to open the mosaic, and then a way to safely descend. The Engineer figured that he could use a crane to slowly lower a small excavation team into the chute and into this so called altar. However, opening this chute was problematic. The Sirens claimed that they might be able to sing the mosaic open as the painting secretly hid a note or sound. This was fine, but what was concerning was that they could also maybe force the mosaic open by breaking the hinges and forcing the door open and making it fall. Gods knew what was below, and the falling door would destroy anything below it. Perhaps the bodies as well. This was something that the Engineer wished to avoid and he hoped would be last resort. He rather wanted to try to lift the door off its hinges so that it wouldn't fall. But, he would allow the Sirens to try their song first.

Once the door was opened, he planned to send a stone construct down first to see if there's any dangers first. Then other members of the excavation team. If it is a sunken altar like what Peisinoe, the Siren who had explained of the song, speculated it would be, then it would be prudent to send a siren down as well. It seemed to be a matter of great importance to the Sirens. Thus, as thanks for her help, the Engineer planned to send Peisinoe among the first excavation team.

---

With the problematic social nature of the Kobolds, it was clear that the Colony needed a way to appreciate Kobold social structure in a way that would enable them to integrate with the Colony. For now, they only took orders with a bit of force from the Exiles. They only respected power, authority or fear. However, what if they were given a hierarchy? The Linguist figured that the Kobold who spoke the best Common so far would be a good candidate. The plan was to designate one as the Chieftain of the Kobolds to oversee the others and make sure that the Kobolds are kept in line. In exchange all the payments and wages would be given to the Chieftain and he would be allowed to distribute the wealth as he or she sees fit. However, the Chieftain would be the Kobold who seems like the most intelligent and most capable of absorbing Colonial knowledge, customs, and language. This Chieftain Kobold would ideally lead the Kobolds into properly integrating into the Colony. If the first Chieftain didn't do a good job, then they would just move on to the next most capable Kobold who can lead the Kobolds into integration with the Colony. However, the Linguist believed that the Chieftain would quickly recognize that his power relies on the goodwill of the Colony. Thus, in order to preserve his position, the Chieftain will follow Colonial Governance. Thus, the Linguist began to look for the Kobold who seemed to be adopting Common and colonial culture the quickest.

Summary:

Nicholas tries to clear up any miscommunications with the Key'ed One

The Engineer leads an excavation team to open the mosaic with the Sirens

Linguist tries to implement Kobold social structure in way that will have the Kobolds more open to integrating with the Colony
 
Something of a rivalry had sparked up between the two mainstay performers at the Donkeyrat inn. Which was to say that Sir Abel Sancroix was left feebly trailing in the dust of his elven peer. He needed something to give him an edge, a strength that only he could play to. Was it not he who had gone on to his chapter master about how faith was to be celebrated, and that song was worship given beautiful voice? Now he had to walk the walk and a plan started forming in his head.

Indeed Sir Abel would compose his own great work. A collection of songs retelling the saga of the saints in a manner far more approachable than the solemn choir music of the monastic orders. Something that would feel just as at home in a church as it would the village square. And indeed it seemed Abel had found a breakthrough! His first song was taking a fine shape in telling the origins of Saint Victoria and how she first took up the sword to defend the innocent and the fateful night that would set her on her journey.

Then he was broken from his artistic meditations were broken by the harsh voice of his brother knight, Domision. "You're needed in the chapel ,Brother. The chapter calls on you to put on a show for the dead."

Well that could make for an interesting test audience.
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SpiralErrant SpiralErrant

Preparations were entering their final phase and in the name of true preparedness canonate Ghol, the cleric issued with the task of helping to cleanse the undead, was spending more time among the mages that had offered their aid in the endeavour. The two shaman of the tyren tribe left something to be desired when it came to the bodily hygiene, especially the smaller of the two who smelled like a walking opium den, but they were leagues better company over the blood mage. How such a thing had been allowed to take such open root in a god fearing community was baffling to Ghol but he was old enough to understand why the chapter couldn't simply strike her down. And his time in the catacombs had forged a patience in him truly worthy of his title. He could wait, and each spell he could see this bloody marionette cast would grant him better understanding of her strengths and weaknesses.

Yet today his business was with Bruul. "I'm told you have a way of copying the spells of others, Master Shaman. I'm told your people don't keep with faith and the true miracles it can weave but I have some knowledge of -- what you might call lesser magery at my disposal. It might be that together we could truly herd these poor lost souls as your own shepherds do their living flocks."

Updates have been made to the theatre district party:

Staff list: Chapter Master Elien
Cannonate Onri Ghol - minor cleric
3 knight - Domision, Ravalla. Abel the bard.
2 mounted knights - Bruford, Durand.
20 Devout

Canonate Onri Ghol accepts Bruul's offer to trace his non-faith based spells.
 
KamiKahzy KamiKahzy : (random events)

The dirty paws had not been idle in the excavation of their warrens... at least half a dozen roots, ten metals, and a variety of other potential sources of medicine and poison had been found in or above the cleared warren space. On the surface, a couple of new poisons were already in development, including "Hellsnuff", colloquially referred to as the "never breath again because your respiratory system is full of coagulating powders challenge"...
Some of the clean paws had also looked into developing a kind of weaponized tetanus -- fast acting, a product of harvesting trace amounts of ancient and low-magic content rust in the iron nearby.

Black Corn supplies are ready for winter. While not considered particularly palatable to surface dwellers, it's speculated that if milled most "birds" won't tell the difference between regular cornmeal.
 
DEVELOPMENT OF THE GREAT CAPITOL BUILDING --




Labor had been granted this project, with a massive pile of materials for some time. With time came new cranes built by the Attolians, A sea of rock and stone, and more rarified materials to emboss it.

It became a regular occurance for trading folk and those passing through learners square to watch and discuss the process of construction. The footprint of the impressive building, almost looking like a castle on the inside, with an outer wall of offices and chambers, a second floor with rooms for talks in confidence and even lodging for foreign dignitaries. The beautiful baths beneath the central officiating chambers suggested that what deals would not be made in intense discussion could perhaps be made when more relaxed nerves prevailed through comfort and camaraderie... The market benefitted greatly with the secure central stores having amounts of every possible luxury, modest amounts, but enough that all the best the colony had to offer would have it on hand... Elvish dignitaries began to sample and even crave the generous variety of wares the Finecian had brought forth, breathing incenses steeped with lurid drink, adventurous ales, and while of crude vintage, the effect on a clear highborn mind was most enjoyable. (HIGHBORN DEVELOP TASTE FOR FENNEC LUXURY GOODS, ACCESS MAY HAVE POSITIVE IMPACT ON MORALE)

But beyond all the will be and promised greatness, it was when the workers began the cyclical shifts -- the Thralls working proudly to make something that they hoped would serve them as well as the colony, the Tireless Tyren Masons -- with new but well applied expertise that inlaid efficiency or new strength wherever they operated, Aymaran Day-labor, though it began to grow scarce as they were all hired off or jumped the bandwagon to face the potential fisher threat... The foundations and basements of the building made more than one fire dance in the eye of the hopeful.

The Attolians, tiring of the negative press of exile confederates needing to whip kobolds into doing their jobs (they didn't seem to understand work as important, or senselessly voluntary, without some form of whip or scorn -- Instead, they put one of the Kobolds in charge -- and he was a nastier cuss than any of the exiles ever were. The lower level interior went up to specifications and the outer walls were mortared expertly to the elegant configuration of the newly skilled Tyren -- and the detail worked so hard they ate while they ran from task to task, and mumbled skies know what about the project in their dreams. The Chief Kobold, Who went by the name "Gafootie, Tai-tau, Tai-tau" -- was a harsh taskmaster, but he ran a well oiled machine.

The Finecians and their trolls did superlative jobs bundling stone and clay into digestable projects and hauling them around the sites -- Highborn artisans carved and long-fired the clay to endure for as long as they hoped the colony might -- and the timetable of elves was long. Their greatest contribution was to the front ediface of the building -- what was first planned to be great windows had later been revised into arched inlays, upon which the highborn sculpted, fired, moulded and chiselled the rights of the people, and the most common law - in the languages of the Attolian, Tyren, Highborn, And in the more technical flair of the Victorian -- with each grand tablet having the bottom half in identical common for all. The Capital building was not just a place that would resolve disputes, it's mere presence educating the rights of the people would seek to AVOID some conflicts from ever occuring. This side of the building faced the learners square, and seemed to marry the two structures if you looked at it from afar.

Stairs of Fine Finecian Limestone stood hovering in the interior, the paths to second floor amenities that had yet to exist. The Roof was made of Marble from the ruin, accentuated with tears of amber the Finecian gathered from the wood, that gave even the sylvan a warmth towards the previously more cold edifaces of the structure...

Iron joints in the wood, some pounded into bull-iron by the Tyren on site, strengthened the foundations and bones of the building. Victorian and Attolian glass, still in stages of infancy was beginning to take shape from impressive works arriving from the glaziers to be leaded and welded on-site.

Quartz Flagstones surrounded the building, and embraced warmly the woolen path-rugs that had begun to become veins in the bones of the newly covered structure. Victorians labored over intricate details, the form and function of a collective library and meeting room, Chapel Style painting and mosaic of folk of the colonial government coming together, of knights driving demons like desperate vermin, of soft and sparingly used tapestry that both guided the patron of the building and suggested grandly of it's heritage.

There was much more work to be done on the project, and perhaps when labor was more plentiful it would continue greater apace -- but for now all were sure the exterior at least would be ready by winter... and what a beautiful structure this were coming to be...
 
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Grimdr was swiftly informed of the animals for sale, he sent word back that he would pay the requested price for all of them. The Firebeards could afford it and he could see no better use for his peoples wealth. The materials they needed would come from the ground. They had the tools they needed to mine and, thanks to their new ally and friend, they had the resources available to shape all future tools and crafts. Not only would this supply them with much needed labour deep underground but it would also give them a semblance of home. Indeed he wanted as many of these creatures as he could get his hands on. He could remember, as he was sure many of his people could, these beasts lumbering about, both free and working, all over their holds. This place was strange. So far the nature seemed hostile while the outsiders, the colonists, seemed to be the only kindness. This would allow some effective level of nature that would be more helpful then hinder-some as well as easing the blow of how truly far home was now.
2U of Wealth for 4 Rhunk and 3U of Wealth for 30 Winmags

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​
However Grimdr himself was making preparations for WAR! Not a conventional war, of course. But a war indeed. He was making sure to refresh his warriors formation and tactical knowledge. It had been some time since they fought in combat, and many more since they fought in an honourable battle. Shield walls. All warriors carried a shield and most carried an axe, though some opted for hammers of Swords instead. The Deep Rangers themselves spent the day off looking for odd things. Some might have seen them leaping against buildings or trees and hacking at them, not to destroy them or fell the trees but to coordinate together against such a large target. They needed to be able to do three things. They needed to be able to attack different points at the same time, reach targeted points high above and far away and move swiftly. If you were lucky enough to watch these unorthodox warriors in their training you may be rewarded by seeing some of their team tactics. Sometimes one would throw another across the width of their target and at other times one or two would kneel so that a third could leap on their shields where all three could then work to thrust him up so he could reach the higher points. They would alternate between this at 'fighting' each other, so that they could practise against a moving target. Practising for battle was easy. You can just pit soldiers against each other or run through formations. The Rangers were not practising for a battle, they were practising for the real fight. Beastfelling. Rangers were able at this but such beasts would normally be felled by specialist Beastfeller groups, but such people are few and far between and all that joined the Firebeard cause fell in battle long ago. The Dwarf plan was simple but Grimdr feared it would be too 'simplistic' for their over complex allies. The Dwarfs would form a line, any allies providing ranged or, if they were willing, similar melee support and they would push as close to the mother as a wall could be maintained. The skilled soldiers, such as the Deep Rangers and any the Dwarves allies bring to bear would then burst forth from the wall and attempt to take on the mother while the soldiers forming the wall would work to protect the spell casters and healers from the mothers great limbs while also protecting the skilled troops from fisher 'reinforcements'. Grimdr felt it was a good plan. A plan fashioned around an incomplex enemy. He felt over complicating such formations, while it may serve in battle against sentient beings like Dwarves or elves, would do more harm then good against the lesser developed race of the Cave Fishers.
Grimdr drills soldiers as best he can while the Deep Rangers go and fight houses. Tactics are drawn up.

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( general ostruppen general ostruppen Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion Zaltusinel Zaltusinel Anyone Anyone else in the Tavern, forgot who is.)
A Grim bearded dwarf walked into the Travern in preparation for the coming battle he and a group of the craftsmen planned to, of course, get drunk. While they were unlikely to face any direct combat and were just going to secure the rear incase they breached the wall, atleast that was the plan as it stood, and use their tools as weapons, as any dwarf would. But today was not about that. The grim unkempt Dwarf walked forth, his ginger beard going grey at the roots. He walked up to the bar with his grim scowl. Ordered he and his chums some drink in his grim, gruff, voice, and then broke out into an enormous grin. "Today I be not telling a story, though lets see how drunks ya gets me! Today is a time to dance. A time to sing. A time to show our friends in this colony how Dwarves party! Let start with a good old simple tune. One that'll get them singing along in time. Then we can get to the fun tunes. He began in his gruff voice. Few dwarves were brave enough to start this song as the first chorus was to be sung alone before everyone joined it and you needed a deep ol' voice.
The self proclaimed story teller begain the song and soon the other compainions of his began tapping their feet, banging their drinks and all of their eyes lit up.
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Some say that dracos is dead, that dracos is dead, that dracos is dead,
Some say that dracos is dead because of a demons army.
More say she rose again, more say she rose again, more say she rose
again,
And crushed the demons army. HAY!

As he finished the first chorus all the Dwarves joined in and most jumped to their feet in a great cheer.

brew the ale and mine the gold, mine the gold, mine the gold,
brew the ale and mine the gold, so early in the morning.
Drink us under, Firebeard's 'ere. Firebeard's 'ere, we're over here! Drink us under, Firebeard's 'ere. It's time to drink us under

Then the Gruff man gave a quick shout into the crowd before beginning the next verse "JOIN IN!" hoping they would do just that as the song continued.

Some say that dracos is dead, that dracos is dead, that dracos is dead,
Some say that dracos is dead because of a demons army.
More say she rose again, more say she rose again, more say she rose
again,
And crushed the demons army.
Adora, she is short and plump, short and plump, short and plump.
Adora, she is short and plump. She likes a drop of brandy.
Drinks it in the bed at night, drinks it in the bed at night, drinks it in the
bed
at night.
It makes her fierce and feisty!
Some say that dracos is dead, that dracos is dead, that dracos is dead,
Some say that dracos is dead because of a demons army.
More say she rose again, more say she rose again, more say she rose
again,
And crushed the demons army.
My man is two foot tall, two foot tall, two foot tall,
My man is two foot tall, he fights drunk on brandy.
Goes to bed at six o'clock, goes to bed at six o'clock, goes to bed at six
o'clock.
He's tiny, fat and handy.
Some say that dracos is dead, that dracos is dead, that dracos is dead,
Some say that dracos is dead because of a demons army.
More say she rose again, more say she rose again, more say she rose
again,
And crushed the demons army.
My lord, he has a shiny thing, a shiny thing, a shiny thing.
My lord, he has a shiny thing, he hid it from me Quickly.
He stole it from his brothers pit, stole it from his brothers pit, stole it from his brothers pit.
'Been hidin' from 'im all day.
Some say that dracos is dead, that dracos is dead, that dracos is dead,
Some say that dracos is dead because of a demons army.
More say she rose again, more say she rose again, more say she rose
again,
And crushed the demons army.



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Actions:
5U of Wealth for 4 Rhunk and 30 Winmags
Warriors being trained in combat and formation fighting
Dwarves going into the Tavern (That all yall be in) and rile up some fun dancing.​
 
Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion -- by using hired Amphibious Aymaran (lurker) labor and some hurriedly fashioned traps -- you capture 3 young adults and one Juvenile (dog sized) specimen of cave fisher.

It is noted that the "Lurker-Caste" (water-borne) aymarans are absolutely CRAZED about god rot -- and all lurkers in the labor pool rally under you for hire.

(Everyone will see how many aymarans they hired when final force amounts are tallied) but for the curious:

Attolians Heyitsjiwon Heyitsjiwon : 20 cunning, 2 scarred (appealing to smartest at learning square)

Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion
Highborn: a mix of 10 cunnings/brutes, 2 land scarred, 1 lurker scarred, 5 lurker cunning
(Lurkers have especially slavish craving for god rot, and they have gotten visibily bulkier eating it)

Spacekitty Spacekitty
Fennec: 10 brutes 1 scarred (though these are earmarked to be sent presently to the theater district, not the fisher cave)

 
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FIRST SHIP FROM THE NEW WORLD SETS SAIL! THE NEW WORLD OUTBOUND TO SHARE IT'S GLORY WITH THE OLD!!



It was a disappointment that the slaver ship would not return with them.. "Let us go, or arrest us for your failing to protect us!" was their last missive.

The Sloop was FAST -- bourne on the waves as if they rode on the back of a friendly whale -- stopping only to pivot their way out of the barrier, and at the behest of enterprising highborn, to attempt a dive on the "sea mesas" -- working together, each faction may take 1 unit of Mother of Pearl with them if they have room, or may jettison cargo to make room for it.

Sea spray flew over the elven sloop by design, filling the days with cool mist and nearly ever-present rainbows... the Attolians could not have guessed the comforts of Highborn sailing -- but such comfort was not read on the faces of the elven sailors themselves.. if there were more comfortable rides than this, that which would make a highborn feel comfort in his duties... they could not imagine such nautical pleasures.

Surprising further was the counter-weighted dining hall, that swung like a pendulum opposite the roil of the waves and kept all dishes and cutlery stable. Highborn laughed at the propensity of Attolian sailors to keep their elbows on the table -- "Antuil Eshvaar -- Ahmen et Eirerhen!" (Look at them! The sea makes them eat like dogs!) The Attolians who had learned a bit of High Elven were diplomatic about such remarks, and such things were laughed about. The Attolians were impressed... and the lack of emnity bred an amity in close quarters... The younger militia taking the chance on the friendship of humans in gambling and games.

"This coin, the first I won from you -- you shall have it back when you are dead, let us attempt to call the other friend for the turn of the wind that is yours. Nay, I shall invest these coins, and your great great great descendants shall hear of how you lost a pittance and gleaned them a fortune, mayfly!"

The first week of sailing -- far to "port" was the sail-less husk of a floating wreck. It would not take them far out of their way to investigate,.. but a bad aire seemed to emanate from the strange boat, a cargo Fluyt, though seemingly high in the water and not heavy with cargo.

Would the sloop investigate?

 
Enemy Standoo Enemy Standoo :

"Breaking ground for water"

The first groundbreaking for the new fountain outside the garrison began as scheduled-- the plentiful stone costing a pittance to make it as ambitious as wished, the holy sconce which would be the resting place of the tear was given special artifice, genius, and attention -- the light of the tear as well as it's power would be given full channel in the design -- and while it had yet to lay in it's place the squires could already see the purity of blue light and blue water playing in their minds... so much so that the monks in place were hurried in their rounds to admonish the day-dreamer. It would be a while, but the cleaner water of unused sewer would be tapped, and it was expected that once in it's element the tear could carry things from there.

While it's sprinkler was a simple, strong, and practical affair, the rim and bed of the fountain were a gorgeous art of the wit of saints, the prayers of sanctification, and 200 synopses of the declaration of light over darkness, sever the wicked, and the reclamation and redemption of the lost. Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion Even a ritual of high sanctification was performed with the newly blessed blades of four of the Knights canon, A ritual performed briefly, though impressively by the cleric of the highborn... their blades were PURE. They lost the weight to them that an instrument of death might have, even -- but hardly a bit of it's sharpness...

It was the third day of the project that the voice of the blood fountain came to Sulthus in a lucid dream.

"I implore you not to make a war on me, human -- this can end badly for both of us. Perhaps we can rediscuss terms, if this is the tack you wish to take. I do not wish to rob the colonists of the Platz of my protections and services -- but I know now that if I ignore you, you'll suffer no fiend a home in land you claim. You are not the first to drive a harder bargain with me... If you see me as a snake in your garden, then perhaps I can be YOUR snake, if needed? You know there are more demons than I in this land... far from... let us be strange bedfellows... Curoi, surely age has made you more pragmatic than stiff?"
 
Enemy Standoo Enemy Standoo :

"Unexpected offers of stone"

The merchants were less than enthused when they saw the granite -- we're looking to make sales here where we can buy granite at a pittance for where it's mined... but the Zircon you bear? Gems are gems. It's not cut or faceted, and we'll have to invest considerable labor getting the stones cut and polished -- but that still leaves plenty of wealth for both of us -- say 3 coffers (wealth) for the unit? You could probably do better if you cut it up yourself, but we're looking to make a quick crown and if you are too, we'll grab that whole damn ring of the Zirc for 3 wealth. Deal?
 
general ostruppen general ostruppen :

Travis continued to make merry with the Barkeep and the patrons of the tavern.

"m'name? They called me "Threddams" now, though before the owner of the 'Rat took me in I had the name "Gulivos -- Thrice Damned" -- for my sentence, one life for crime, two life for failed satisfaction as forced labor. Won "a chance at freedom" fighting in the mine I was assigned to die in, and here I am. Really do only two shifts daily at the 'rat though, I'm training to become a tailor. Not long before a lot of clothes get patchy, and when they do I'll be ready. Don't expect I'll get much business from the dwarves seeing as I imagine a dwarf shirt lasts longer than the average man -- but I reckon' I'll expand my business to a cleaners before long, and I don't offend when I say I'd be glad to see the harshest grime that a dwarf can throw at me for an honest coin."

"Since you're so friendly, I'll tell you a little more about the Donkey Rat Inn -- used to be all we had to serve here was the rats we caught in the sewers, had to think on our feet to make 'em appetizing... but damned if we didn't get it down. Shark was the 2nd relaiable protein the colony got until the Tyren started sharing their mutton -- so Shark and Rat are the base for all our dishes... Brown gravy that comes with everything? That's Shark and rat stock -- and you can turn a nose at it, but nobody who tasted it does. Things were touch and go for a while with this business, it turned out early in the colony there was an infestation of were-rats -- some cult sent by a dark elf to unravel the colony before it got started. This Inn has the distinction of being the first place in town there was a fight for the fate of the colony, cuz the were-rats had made a lair underneath this in. Still a lot of tunnels down there, but not even the constables go looking for trouble down there unless trouble troubles them... Hey, you think with your lot being friends to stone and no stranger to mazes you could get a look down there? "

"We've been wanting to expand beyond the cellars for a while now, but the boss says two doors is as far as we go down there, and 'any third door, you bar, spike, and make it a wall."

"If you can get a team of Dwarves to give the all clear down there, first round for a Hatzburk will always be on me, when I tend bar -- whatcha say? An' seeing as we'd never go looking on our own, I assure you the boss is a reasonable man -- anything you find down there we can share even or if you can't use it we'll come up with a finders fee or even nicer perks to you lots as patrons... we gotta compete with the Bloomin' Lamb up in the north, don't we?"

"Not that I'm giving them advertisement -- if you want your ale poured to you by an elf, go ahead, but down here at the 'Rats, our ale is strong and gettin' stronger!"

meanwhile, during the exchange, the strange night elves saddle-down close to travis and order their own drinks, and make their hails all around.

Zaltusinel Zaltusinel general ostruppen general ostruppen
 
Heyitsjiwon Heyitsjiwon :

"We Attolians have only saved Gnoll lives. However, depending on what you do here. You might have to also go tell your tribe why that has changed. Now, I think it would be in both of our interests if we go back to our sides and stay there until the Battle against the Mud Elves."

The Most well spoken Gnoll hissed.

"You keep word, there no fight. simple as that. Lying tounges of man-fool will always be smelled a mile off. We're prepared to pay the cost of your hides in the heads of mutual enemy, but me thinks fancy bird-fool would rather stay alive. Back to your side of river -- there is more water on your end as it is without you taking our shore too."

"And one more thing, since bird-fool is keen on wandering into places he doesn't belong -- mid wood full of witches and bad spirits. Stay out, and stay alive...."

....

"Just like here."

The Gnolls backed off 15 paces as gawked at the Attolians, who in turned backed up an equal measure... from there the gnolls moved only as far and as fast as the attolians did, which was a respectfully fast clip, only to finally make camp on their side of the river. When the Attolians reached the rope bridge on the south side they were not surprised to see a burning gnoll camp there as well... but they were not aggressive... merely watchful. The detail would return to the Platz hastily by the road and give their report, unless some other business yet unstated would hold them at the reservoir...
 
SpiralErrant SpiralErrant

"Ancient Graft to Youngest bough, and Iron-wood like none knew how."

The purposing of the wood was strange at first -- it took to nothing the Tyren might hold it to, until the tree-singers bid them hold their hands still, and warm, to the heart-wood, and place the dead ancient wood upon it, between it, among it. Shaman Ummush was a wielder of letters and rune, and magic language, that is why the story plates were his alone... during the rites of the tree-singing, he looked for commonalities in the magic of the song with passages in the book, and more than once frantically waved to the springborn to sing a passage that Ummush made alight. The Golden Wood glowed, but took no place -- the trees of the intertwined stockade seemed to shake the last of their fall leaves with some unseen vibration, sparkling and furling as they hit the ground... it was when the Bull-Iron supports were added that something amazing happened...

The Tyren needed to almost snatch their hands away from where the metal and golden-wood met, so strange they seemed to join and coalesce like syrup or dew... the bolts and bands became as knots and branches -- the metal took the form of tree, and bound to it... water flowed through it... condensation formed upon the living metal as the gold began to spread.

The Sylvan were WRACKED with almost violent joy at the spirits they had envoked, the wind blown out of them, they pleaded that the spell must not be broken now -- the Tyren would have to be their voices -- the TYREN would TREE-SING the final verse. Fighting to their knees, the sylvan waved their hands wildly to guide the viscous wood from joint to joint.

Ummush gathered the skilled Tyren around him, and with his mighty fingers punched a beam of the remaining bull iron with phonetic equivalents for a voice he did not have, that the Tyren did not have, but they would have to make.

Great Bellows and strange yelps rose from the deepest guts of the Five that sung. Their horns tingled with strange enchantment, like touching another plane, as they belted their cacophonous song -- like a bag-pipe filled with cats and sea-urchins they howled and boomed -- but the spell carried on... the Sylvan channeled their voiceless hearts to the Crafts-Tyren... and a strange alliance with nature whispered back.

"defend. protect."

Then too, the Tyren collapsed voiceless, only Ummush remained, punching more runes and gesticulating them with his hands. He would not tire. He would not slow. Long after the sylvan and tyren around him lost consciousness, he stood, the rest of the day, communing with the spirits of wild growth and nature's guard... until the final stitch of golden wood had woven itself through every tree. What was previously a pallisade was now a CASTLE WALL -- light played through it in strange ways, but none would breach it unbidden, Ummush ground his teeth in assessment.

He left the host sleeping while he underwent his own recovery -- beneath his robes his old bones and hide were caked with moss... flowers poked through the patches in his skin that he couldn't quite reach...

and inside of himself beat a small wooden heart of gold that hung on the branches of his ribcage, and filled his empty form with errant and wild life. For the first time without a spell, he could smell the beautiful scents that seemed to emanate from HIM. Like a mummy stuffed lovingly with fresh herbs, he slept beneath the trees and the brambles by the river -- Slept, for his spirit finally could. He dreamt of leaving the world, of moving on, of becoming one with the spirit that protected Harun'Taras... but he would not.

Ummush woke soaked with dew, and could FEEL that it was there. Orm was later to hear him humming tunelessly while walking about the settlement, and even grabbing a drink at the 'Lamb.

Orm wondered if Shul had put the wrong mushrooms in his stew again... but it seemed everyone was possessed of some elevated spirit since the strange and private ritual, it's product obvious and observable to all --

--and from these upwells of feeling Orm felt two snakes twist in his belly...

-One was of a rage unexpressed, a cellar-door buckling against the forces boiling underneath it...

-And wholly separate was a sad longing in his heart for loneliness -- not since he was a yearling first snared by 'the rut' had he felt it so purely. He was amazed and happy with what he saw, but it only reminded him of how truly angry and sad he had allowed himself to become...
 
General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch SpiralErrant SpiralErrant :

Anais on Fisher-Mother:

Anais passed these words on about the Mother of Fishers -- the Tyren feared that in the rush to battle, their possible best counsel would be missed.

"The Queen Fisher was once a servant of my father -- As I have said, where Aboleth cannot find natural predators for their young, they introduce them. In previous centuries, This fisher was already ancient -- and for it's being little more than a simple animal -- it nonetheless could be dealt with by the Aboleth, it would live in the waterfall, and eat the gibboleth not cunning enough to avoid it's tentacles. For ages only the fleetest and most vicious of father's young shed their scales, and all seemed in balance with this arrangement... but it was not forseen that the Fisher Mother, like the Aboleth themselves, would glean some semblance of will or knowledge from those it ate -- and one day the Fisher Mother, the seeds of sentience grinding within her -- came to know she was a pet. Intellect burned in the skull of fisher-mother -- and it said but one thing to Father before leaving the caves of the waterfall... "No."

"She withdrew into her cave and began to feast soley on the thriving families of her descendants... hoping that one day their simplicity would slip back into her mind, that the flower of a mind that opened in her would one day close... but it does not."

"Father sent His Dagon to take the soul of fisher-mother -- he wanted to know what it knew in it's simplicity, and to punish it for denying him her service. But the Dagon could only NEARLY defeat fisher mother alone... and eventually Father stopped sending him."

"That is what I know of fisher-mother -- that there are great caverns in the cliff, and that they are graves for terrible godlings, just as sure as the depression is full of the graves of failed colonists. The crimson bat lays in one tomb, Fisher mother, another -- Even the island dome is a tomb of sorts for the Drakhiaiena... the bones of the land creak with dead gods, just as the surface groans with the footfalls of dead mortals."

"This is home is it? Such as it is!"
 
Previous Summer Orders
Basic Orders for Summer Projects

1. Construction of the Warren
The Warren will be designed to include nesting nooks, a council chamber, storage caves, planting caves for black corn and mushrooms (assuming they find any that can be exploited), inclined tunnels to supply fresh water and dispose of sewage, a freshwater reservoir for lean times, two primary escape tunnels, and the Clan Hollow to be used as a general gathering place for the clan. As well, above ground near the Warren will be constructed homes for the former I.O.C. humans that have decided to live beside the Ratkin, to provide shelter and comfort for them and make them feel welcome.
Assigned Workers:
Ratkin:
Aged: 03
Milkweed - Clan Chief
Daisy - Tinker
Coalback - Miner​
Clean Paws: 06
Bucks/Does: 20
Pups: 30​
Former I.O.C.:
Skilled Workers: 08
Archaeologists: 03
Architects: 01
Engineers: 03
Engineer Assistants: 01​
Assigned Supplies:
Specialty Supplies:
Digging Tools: The shipment of industrial digging tools the Ratkin brought with them from the Empire in Port Cestus.
​
2. Food Production
The Ratkin will work with the Farmer's Guild to petition for land to plant their carrot and garlic crops, as well as offer portions of these crops and their black corn crops in exchange for the arable land and a seat within the guild.
Assigned Workers:
Ratkin:
Aged: 01
Hawthorne - Poisoner (He might not be a farmer but he does know plants, and possibly pesticides)​
Clean Paws: 06
Bucks/Does: 15
Pups: 24​
Former I.O.C.:
Thralls: 04 (All excluding Schwalaut the Servant)​
Assigned Supplies:
Specialty Supplies:
Black corn crop
Carrot crop
Garlic crop​

3. Healer's Guild
Nateema will take some of the remaining paws to the Healer's Guild to offer their services, and use it as a means to teach the younger bucks and does, and the other healers at the guild, her accumulated secrets of medicine. Her goal is to possibly help turn these bucks and does into clean paws for the benefit of the clan, and project Ratkin presence into the guild.
Assigned Workers:
Ratkin:
Aged: 01
Nateema - Clan Shaman​
Clean Paws: 04
Bucks/Does: 05​
4. Security
Breeze and Needle will be taking the remaining paws under their wing to patrol the colony for threats, and as a means to teach the younger bucks and does the ways of the dirty paw. Their goals are to patrol and protect the clan, and collect as much information as they can about the area that Breeze feels is pertinent to Milkweed's knowledge.
Assigned Workers:
Ratkin:
Aged: 02
Breeze - Smokewalker
Needle - Sniper​
Dirty Paws: 24
Bucks/Does: 05​
Summer Results

(All results given by Beck)

1) One of the ratkin tunnels accidentally opened into a sealed portion of the sewer... Large Amythyst Zebani made menacing gestures, and upon the ratkin withdrawing, the Zebani re-sealed the tunnel. Since diplomatic relations with the Zebani have opened however, this secret tunnel has since been re-opened from the Zebani side, allowing contact... but it seems to be an area without the more small and talkative Roc-built.

2) During construction of the Warren the Ratkin uncovered TWO bat-caves.... they contain layer upon layer of condensed flammable matter, and the bats might be tasty if the ratkin tried them. for now they've gone largely unexplored, so there might be more to them. They can't grow corn in these caves with the bats around.

3) Your designated areas for warren construction are all within tolerance and quite spiffy, one might add. Since the pacification of the Agora district the ratkin have been very successful at finding and restoring furniture and effects of the ancients -- at least to a level the ratkin deem impressive. (+1 wealth over the summer gathered from loose coins in the district and dirt, sufficient decorations and piles of comfy debris and ruined furniture)

4) The council chamber has become a place where the finest pieces grabbed from the ruins are all piled and displayed. They have trade value, but also a cultural value especially for pups, who have adopted a new cultural tradition of "Taking Wing" when they can bring something of value from the surface down into the warrens without stealing. (+1 unit of mundane artifacts, but pups have attachment to these and offer them to decorate the council chambers)

5) 6 plots (a vast amount) of black corn grows in and around the central gathering area. Joining the farmers guild allows me to rev-con the planting of carrots and garlic, which grow beyond the boundaries of Attolian wheat/barley. Black corn above ground is mercilessly devoured by recovering populations of birds, which are thriving especially because they are used in the colony as messengers. If Black corn is to grow above ground, It will need more help.

6) Small clutch of Former I.O.C. (Human) settlers build their homes near the learners square. For the better part of the summer they worked underground helping to plan and improve the warren, but have recently created an ARCHAEOLOGICAL SOCIETY near the learners square. (+1 influence) if the society can become a guild, it will become of greater use to the colony and have more influence.

7) Ratkin join the healers guild in Earnest! (+1 influence) -- colony wide heath increases yet again, with fastidious ratkin offering new services -- fully body de-lousing that is both relaxing (and nutritious!) Tyren Herdsmen are particularly fond of this service, and Fennec just like the pampering. (also one doe becomes a clean paw in her own right, performing first aid on farmers)

8) Ratkin patrols are seldom seen, but when they are they are invited to join combined arms combat drills with the colonial government.

9) The Ratkin paw is already symbolically placed on Colonial Standard created by the Tyren -- if Ratkin will not join colonial government by official declaration, it will be a potential sticking point.
TL; DR: New Orders/Rearranging Guild Manpower

New List of Guild Manpower:
Healer's Guild
Assigned Units:
Clean Paws: 02
Bucks/Does: 03
Pups: 05​
Farmer's Guild
Assigned Units:
Clean Paws: 02
Dirty Paws: 02
Bucks/Does: 04
Pups: 06
Former I.O.C. Thralls: 04​
Grocer's Guild
Assigned Units:
Clean Paws: 02
Bucks/Does: 04
Pups: 10​

Orders:
1) Milkweed takes several workers to the new Capital Building to offer their help in its construction, and to request an official seat on the Colonial Council to add the Ratkin's voice to the colony.
Assigned Workers:
Clean Paws: 03
Bucks/Does: 13
Pups: 14
Highly Skilled Workers: 04
01 Architect
02 Engineers
01 Engineer's Assistant​
Ratkin Representatives:
Schwalaut: Former Noble Footman of I.O.C.
Clean Paws: 01
Dirty Paws: 01​

2) Nateema travels to the 'Platz with a few trusted paws to inquire about the sole 'intact building' near the Blood Fountain. From the rumors going around a being lives there in hiding from the rest. Something not quite right, something Muurdain perhaps.
Assigned Units:
Aged: Nateema - Clan Shaman
Dirty Paws: 05​

3) Hawthorn takes some paws to devise a way to circumvent the toxic air within the discovered bat caves so they can harvest the guano within.
Assigned Units:
Aged: Hawthorn - Poisoner
Clean Paws: 02
Dirty Paws: 03
Bucks/Does: 05​

4) Coalback begins work to excavate aging caves that can be used to cultivate specialty cheeses and alcohols.
Assigned Workers:
Aged: Coalback - Miner
Clean Paws: 03
Bucks/Does: 15
Pups: 19
Highly Skilled Workers: 01 Engineer​
Assigned Supplies:
Digging Tools​

5) Breeze takes some paws to collect the 02 Wealth owed to them by the Faith of the Rich's current Paymaster.
Assigned Units:
Aged: Breeze - Smokewalker
Dirty Paws: 04​

6) Daisy takes some paws and tries to establish contact with their Zebani neighbors.
Assigned Units:
Aged: Daisy - Tinker
Clean Paws: 02
Dirty Paws: 02​

7) Needle takes the remaining dirty paws to train in joint tactics with the colonial forces.
Assigned Units:
Aged: Needle - Sniper
Dirty Paws: 07​

8) Farmer's Guild units work to finish two projects:
A) Work with Farmer's Guild to devise a solution for the local birds devouring the surface grown black corn plots. Scarecrows, shelters, pesticides, and weaning of bird diets should be considered for viable solutions.
B) Begin cultivating the 'Hellsnuff' plant within the Warren in safe locations, away from any curious pups that should know better.
​
9) Grocer's Guild units begin taking black corn to the Highborn mill for processing into cornmeal. Cornmeal can then be used as a flour substitute for various bread-like products, and as the basis for a hearty starch.

10) Use the 01 unit of Mundane Artifacts to beautify the Council Chamber within the Warren, and to validate the pup's new behavior.

11) Officially announce the Archaeological Society as a place of study and discovery for those seeking answers to the colony's diverse history. Request support from any interested factions to turn the Society into a fully fledged Guild.

12) Bird messengers are sent to the Tyren in Hrun'Taras to ask if they would like to try aging their cheese in the ratkin Warren, and possibly produce a new joint luxury product by experimenting with different spices and fruits for flavor.
Affected Players:

13) Bird messengers are sent to the Fennecians to ask if they would like to start a joint venture by using Fennecian starting cultures with the ratkin's corn mash and aging caves to develop specialty alcohols for joint sale. Perhaps even experiment with certain spices and fruits available within the colony to create luxury alcohols.
Affected Players:
Reminiscing in the Afterglow

Milkweed sighed heavily, content and relaxed for the first time in years. He stretched lazily, letting his joints crick and crack away the aches of a long night's sleep. He turned over and nuzzled into the soft coat of Steel Vixen, savoring the familiar scent and feel of an old lover. She wordlessly reciprocated, nudging her nose deeper into his coat in kind. Milkweed's mind slowly began to rise out of its sleepy haze, forming thoughts and finding memories to tickle his brain. The Chief chuckled lowly to himself, marveling at the situation he found himself in. How had they had done so well? How was it they could find, in this strange place beyond the map's edge... A home? Thoughts of those days and months before the Ceremony came warmly to Milkweed, like the coat of his lover, or that of his mother in his earliest years.

Excavation of the Warren began the moment the Council had decided on its location. Its distance from major positions within the colony was the initial factor, but once excavation began and the iron veins were revealed their work was suddenly validated by sign after sign from Neesa. The iron provided extra security, and a means to listen discreetly on movements throughout the entire colony. And with the extra help from the I.O.C. Engineers, Daisy and Coalback were able to create not just a hideaway, but a true home the Ratkin could be proud of. Indeed there were few if any that could claim they had ever laid eyes on tunnels so smooth, chambers so spacious and aesthetically carved, and with plenty of means for entry and exit at a moment's notice.

At the same time, the crops the Ratkin had brought from Port Cestus had taken well to the rich soil above ground. Above ground! For the first time in their lives the Ratkin could farm above ground, work above ground, and even play above ground! True they weren't welcome in every corner of the colony, old prejudices were hard to beat after all. But they were making steps, and in time Milkweed felt they might even be accepted as valued members of the community for their work ethic and willingness to learn. But even without that, the Ratkin were happy just knowing that their crops were taking well and would yield a fair harvest for winter. Sure there were problems to resolve but the Clan would not starve, and that was something many a sib was not accustomed to saying.

They had food, shelter, camaraderie, and most precious of all hope. The Clan was elated with how things were growing and pensing within the Warren was starting to take on a singular tone. Murmurs of accomplishment and identity began to swirl among the tunnels like fungal spores, and after deliberating with the council Milkweed decided an act of change was pertinent.

The Clan gathered in the Hollow as one, each paw chatting and socializing in excited tones. From pup to aged the energy was felt. Something big was about to happen, and each showed it in their own way. Some gossiped with each other in anticipation, others took to spontaneous grooming, and the youngest found it impossible to stay still as they climbed and teemed over themselves in pure joy. Once all the paws had gathered the aged council exited their chamber and went to the center of the Hollow, with Milkweed leading them before he stood before the Clan and addressed them all. His voice was calm but reverberated well in the Hollow, bouncing off the cave walls and residual iron veins so that all might hear him speak.

"Friends, siblings, my fellow paws... We did it! Today, we gather in a warren carved by our own paws, in lands untouched and unsettled by man, elf or dwarf. This land is now ours, and we have built a home for ourselves. No longer will we live in the sewers and shadows of birds, no longer will we scavenge and bicker over the scraps they deem unworthy. Today, for the first time in an age, we take our fates and make them our own!"

The Clan cheered in unison at these bolstering words, pride in their accomplishments swelling their chests and sending many to brux in unabashed joy. Milkweed waited for the commotion to die down before he continued his words.

"I have heard the pensing amongst you, and I know you all wish for us to become a named clan. Normally such things would be discussed between chiefs of our kin, but we are alone here and so the council feels we can make an exception. Just this once." Milkweed winks and the crowd cheers once more, laughing jovially and embracing each other in anticipation of the words to come.

Milkweed began again, "Today, I feel it is right that we earn our name! We saw opportunity away from the Muurdaan, and we took it though cunning and deft paws. We sailed the ocean , conquered the dustmen, and sent a cursed isle below the waves. We saved lives, and in doing so built a reputation for ourselves. A reputation that has gained us means to ally with birds we once though unable to see past our teeth and tails. We chased the sky, and against all odds we took it for our kin!"

At that Milkweed looked to Nateema, who held a rolled cloth between her wrinkled claws. He took the cloth and in a single motion unfurled it for all to see. It was a spare sail from the ship, cut and sewn to resemble a flag that might grace a bird's keep. In the center of this standard was a single paw mark, painted in blue as clear as the sky above.

"From here on out, we shall be known as the Blue Paw clan. For we conquered the sea, the sky, and fate itself to create our new lives. May many tails grace our tunnels, and may Momma Neesa smile upon us all!"

A euphoric frenzy raged through the Hollow at this declaration. An emotional dam had broken and every joyous and far fetched hope flooded out of every Ratkin at once. Siblings embraced, tears were shed, and in that moment the clan cemented its identity and resolve to make this life the best any could dare dream it to be. A celebration began on the spot. Singing, dancing, and music was made, games were played, and various wrestling matches broke out among the young bucks. Instruments were dredged out of storage that the Ratkin had salvaged from the old world. An eclectic assortment that only their kind could bring into harmony in their own special way. Horns, flutes, fiddles, drums, tambourines, and no less than three hurdy-gurdies were brought out and played to their fullest, filling the Hollow with song and rhythm long into the night.

But it was the wrestling matches that sparked a more 'primal' instinct among the Ratkin. As far as they knew they had a secure home, enough food to feed all and more, and no immediate threats. Well, suddenly the nesting chambers were looking a little too empty for the doe's liking. Mating pheromones flooded the senses of the young rats, and soon enough the sounds of song and dance gave way to... Well, in plain terms the Hollow became far more 'friendly' for the next week or so.

The next month many (if not all) of the does were showing signs of new litters, and Nateema was kept busy at the Healer's Guild providing guidance and care for the new mothers-to-be. The month after all the does were obviously with young, Steel Vixen included after she had finally broken down Milkweed's defenses and convinced him to lie with her once again. And soon enough the weak cries of young being born graced the halls of the Blue Paw Warren, turning the tunnels into a place of warmth and nurturing that sent morale soaring to its peak.

These tunnels were blessed, their lives were blessed, and things were absolutely perfect for the briefest of moments.

The memories of the past faded from mind as Milkweed was gently taken back to reality by the soft grooming of Vixen. She nuzzled and licked at the fur beneath his neck and he smiled in appreciation. He groomed her back for a moment before gently extricating himself from her grasp and looking down at her. They were nesting in a private hollow Coalback had been kind enough to dig out for him as 'the Chief's Hole'. Milkweed wasn't sure how he felt about the special treatment, but he'd been Chief long enough to know when to let such things be.

Vixen looked up at him happily as she stretched out herself, allowing Milkweed to trail his gaze along her glossy fur, her cute ears, and that silky sleek tail that was the perfect length and width. Vixen noticed and wiggled her nose at Milkweed in jest. "See something ye like, Chief?" Milkweed chuckled and nodded, taking a paw and running it along her head and behind her ears to scratch affectionately. Vixen's eyes closed as she savored the touch, relishing the care and power behind Milkweed's claws as they worked.

After a moment Milkweed stopped and sat down next to Vixen, who immediately took the chance to curl up beside him and get cozy. Milkweed put a paw over her shoulders and looked out the entrance to his nesting hole, where it opened up into the Great Hollow itself. Milkweed's nest was higher up on the Hollow's wall so he could look down into the Hollow and observe everything going on within it. Today was a typical day, and activity was light but active beneath him. Kin moved about or gathered in small groups, tending to the black corn in some cases, while others simply socialized and groomed. The pups wandered about as spirited as always, and the newest children were being cared for in large groups by teams of bucks and does that pulled duty that day. The community was thriving, and it showed on every face of every rat that passed by.

Milkweed smiled to himself as he squeezed Vixen a little tighter. He spoke aloud, seemingly asking the Warren itself, "Think this'll last?" Vixen smiled up at her Chief and scratched his chest fur, nuzzling into it in response. "You'll make it last, I know it." Milkweed's smile grew just a little wider at that. He nodded his agreement and sighed once more as he had this morning, perfectly content with the world and his place in it.

...But that moment was soon to pass. The pheromones from the mating month had long since subsided, and Milkweed knew there was work to be done. They had established a home, yes, but now they needed to cement their future and start providing means to do that. Vixen looked up and saw the gleam in her Chief's eye, a coy smile gracing her own face as she spoke, "Ye got that look again Milkweed. Time to work?" Milkweed looked down at Vixen and nodded, squeezing her one last time before standing up and crawling out of the nest. Vixen got up and moved to the edge of the nest's entrance, looking down at Milkweed as he started pensing for the council to meet in their chamber. She sighed and looked on with pride, joy, and a little hint of lust. "He's so sexy when he takes charge."

The Ratkin had rested for long enough, it was time to look to the future.
To Court a Council, You First Offer Gifts

Milkweed walked calmly towards the construction site of the Capital Building,

MORE TO COME
 
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Kulger and the rest of his companions who noticed the small group of elves, listened closely to her words and were happy to hear that she was on friendly terms. Polip who by now somewhat nervous and anxious, waddles toward the madam that presented herself. Before he could announce himself, the gnomes who in the background were discussing plans had suddenly had their attention caught by the elf who was wearing a strange armor design. They immediately took off towards her and without trying to invade her personal space, tried to figure out the armor.

Gnome #1: Quite a looker of an armor she's got.

Gnome #2: Indeed! But look at that detail! It's a hybrid of some sort!

Gnome #3: Aaaah who care's how it looks. Honestly I could do it better than those two knuckle brothers!

Furkin and Darkin are seen giving a malicious atmosphere from the comments the gnomes made but stayed silent and veins popping. Polip immedietly steps up and shoo's the gnomes back, and fixes his glasses.

Polip: My apologies for these rude gnomes! They get very jumpy when they see something that they deem interesting. However we are surely glad to have more pleasant company from another group within the colonies that are looking to make good relations with us. Also we are indeed aware that many such dwarves are of course not "cooperative" when it comes to elves, but we are of a different batch with different morals and attitudes so rest assured!

Kulger eventually steps up and stands right next to polip and looks at Gnome from to bottom, then to the guards, and back to her.

Kulger: I must say....For an elf I find it somewhat humorous and intriguing that you would bestow yourself the title of "Gnome". Tho that shows to me that our group will get along quite well....Right Mr.Polip?

Polip: INDEED MY LORD! With no doubt!

Kulger: (Reaches out a hand of greetings) My name is Kulger son of Ultensan, leader of the remains of the Hatzburk Royal Guardsman. I am happy to meet your acquaintance.

(In the background the puppies and bloodhound dog are finally released and are now causing havoc among the troops with their cuteness.....Oh wait don't worry the twins got this)

Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Travis slurped his beard and settled it down onto the counter, stroking his beard and thinking about the offer. Tho getting his face or his friends chewed up by possible nests full of rats doesn't sound pleasant. Then again however there could be other benefits to behold if taking this task.

Travis: Alright Threddams I'll tell yah what.....I'll talk to my lord and see if I can grab a spare of fellows to mop up the basement for yah. You tell your boss that some fellow new dwarves of the Hatzburk faction is willing to give his business a helpin hand. Of course if my lord agree's he'll surely want to discuss in more details with your boss and all that. Other than that count yourself lucky!

As he finishes speaking, he hears a loud group behind him and surprisingly its a group of dwarves! Tho he noticed several of them giving him the stink eye. Suddenly they began to sing a very catchy song and he couldn't help but clap along with the beat. After the song was over he thought of ordering a beer for the first dwarf that started it all and offering it to him.

Result: Travis has accepted Threddams quest on behalf of the party

General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch Beckoncall Beckoncall
 
The High Seas

Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion
The Attolians jettisoned the sharkskin goods for the 1 Unit of Mother of Pearl. There was plenty of sharkskin to go around in the Colony, but back in the Old World... mother of pearl just seemed like a much more valuable commodity. Thus, room was made. However, once coming across the derelict ship, Lothar had a bad feeling. There were probably no survivors on board seeing how there was no sail. But, as a fluyt... it was only a cargo ship. Perhaps there was some dangerous cargo? If that was the case, then was it really worth risking the sloop? Either way, he was willing to personally go with some highborn troops, but he didn't want the whole ship to board. Gods knew what was in the hull. The Shipwright took out a telescope and examined the ship (skill check). Lothar asked if the Shipwright could determine anything about the ship. Its port of origin perhaps? Either way he would ask the high born their thoughts before proceeding to do anything.

---

KamiKahzy KamiKahzy
Upon hearing word that the Ratkin need assistance to keep pests away, Caelis has sent his Falconer to assist the Ratkin in devising a way to keep birds away from the Black Corn. The Attolians also wish to join the endevour to produce better quality alcohol. The Attolians believe that their supplies of wheat, barley, beer, nuts, and spices will be very useful in producing a quality drink.

---

The Attolians start the Artists/Performers Guild! They send their Linguist.

Attolians also send their Geologist to join the
Archaeology Guild.

Summary:
1 unit of sharskin goods jettisoned
1 unit of mother pearl taken
Shipwright examines the derelict fluyt
Ratkin have the aid of the Attolian Falconer for their blackcorn project
Attolians request participation in the Ratkin brewing project KamiKahzy KamiKahzy
Attolians start the Artists Guild
Attolians join Archaeology Guild
 
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Beckoncall Beckoncall

The Highborn jettison the stone they have in their holds for the 1 unit of Mother of pear.

The Highborn, although suspicious of a trap were naturally curious about the Fluyt. The Highborn would wait for reconnaissance made by the Shipwright and perhaps sail around the circumference of the derelict vessel to take a better look, but were willing to investigate. If only a safe would could be devised to look into the ship. Are their windows on the vessel?

Summary,
1 unit of stone jettisoned
1 unit of mother of pearl taken
High Elven sloop circles Fluyt to get better look, and sees if there are windows to spy into?
 
General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch

The Highborn are also interested in Windmaggots. Would it be of interest if possible to divide them up instead of a bidding war? Perhaps they can be bred?

Summary:
Highborn suggest sharing Windmaggots to avoid bidding war and breeding them if possible.
 
Beckoncall Beckoncall Spacekitty Spacekitty KamiKahzy KamiKahzy General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch Heyitsjiwon Heyitsjiwon SpiralErrant SpiralErrant general ostruppen general ostruppen

The Tactician who is a beautiful Highborn Elf female, but is clearly a battle hardened warrior and general has a serious face. She is wearing Mirthril Plate and is very tall with long hair and a even longer sword.

Here is what the HighElven Tactician came back with in terms of the suggestion that were made. She had a chart she had written in Common. There were Seven points listed and with a pointer she pointed as she spoke.

1, 3, and 5 were especially in bold letters and highlighted.

The in very heavily accented Common the Tactician says "We have some specimens to experiment on. This is distasteful to the Highborn but since it will be the Rakin and Finnecian that do the dirty work, we can justify it. Also, these are lowly creatures, but nonetheless living things and for the betterment of the colony, we need to rid the caverns of these creatures. We shall see what effects them and what poisons work on them,"


"On our honor, we do not care to attack a creature without provocation or without giving it the opportunity to flee or surrender. One possibility is based on the knowledge we have received that his creature has once fled before (the waterfall), and is to a degree sentient. It some intelligence, perhaps it can be reasoned with to leave the Cavern to escape harm? This might be a better option than it dying since it has self preservation. Who among us can commune with it? Perhaps we can persuade it to take up residence in the Gnoll caves who are still a threa. Two birds with one stone. How it would travel there I guess is another issue or where would it go if it left the cavern? Again, I do not see the harm in attempting to communicate with it, if that is a possibility. I have doubts about this, but this is a matter of respecting our enemies, honor and revering the sanctity of life before we exterminate the vermin." (the irony of her statement seemed loss on herself but everyone listening perhaps found it odd that the Highborn gave their enemies a chance to flee or surrender before crushing them. Imagine someone saying "shoo fly" before the fly was swatted. They had been forewarned)

The Tactician put her hands up, sighed and said, "It being a stupid Lobster Spider thing, it will likely choose the hard way. Here are some ideas".
SpiralErrant SpiralErrant KamiKahzy KamiKahzy Spacekitty Spacekitty

"We use livestock and poison it and/or poison the smaller fishers so that the Mother Fisher becomes poisoned and slowed down. We have some fishers to test on, to see what works"

"We then have a strategy of attacking the Tentacles. These tentacles should NOT be underestimated. NOTE: The Tentacles are very sticky and the adhesive can be dissolved by ALCOHOL. How can this be employed? Either copious amounts of alcohol could be used to put on cloaks of fighters or can perhaps be used to soak tentacles or both. I am thinking high proof Barley Grain alcohol, perhaps hooked up to hoses and pumped."

"I am also wondering if there can be a barrier to protect us from the tentacles and what that may be. Large shields, spinning blades? Perhaps a steel mesh? I am open to the ideas especially from the Dwarves."

"A full offensive on the Mother's tentacles could be successful by All involved namely Tyren, Attolians, Dwarves, Highborn, and whomever else. We need to find out if the Tentacles are vulnerable to something particular, or we can just chop them if the Mother is already slowed down. One idea is to tangled up, or if we have nets with barbs on them they can be stuck in protective nets with sharp barbs to keep tentacles occupied we shoot them full of arrows and hack them up. One idea was to use large Scythes and have Amaryans attack tentacles while soaked in Alcohol."

"Cave Cyclops could perhaps scare away smaller Fishers if he can be kept safely from Tentacles. Our Tamer is already very fond of 'Sloth'."

General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch general ostruppen general ostruppen
"Then finally, a bolt or two of the Highborn Ballista with Mana Crystals to the face of the Creature. The Ballista could still use a Dwarven touch."

Tacticians thoughts on plans thus far below on Board:

Present drawing-board plans:

1) thing is cannibalistic -- slow acting poison on massive number of fishers could lead to slow acting poison on the mother.

2) Collapsing the cave could cause serious deformation to the ground on the surface, and the cliffs. The territory above the cavern would upset likely the great trees, and the damage to the cliff might flood the new dwarf-home... either very quickly or slowly but surely filling it half up with water, and creating a new river of saltwater onto the beach which could have effects on fishing and the port. (dwarves have dug a channel from top of cliff to the beach-basin which is path of least resistance for the water)

3) Poisoned Livestock also a viable option... Ratkin and Fennec have several options for poisons... though none are tested.

4) Smoke is not suggested by your tactician -- the creatures will flee or dig away into Aymaran territory and the sewers before the cavern could completely fill. It is unlikely the Queen can actually move (there is condensed minerals and stalactites hanging from the creature and mooring it's legs to the wall, but if you want cave fishers popping out of every hole in the colony or flooding the sewer, you'll smoke them out.

5) The mother's claws are seemingly permanently joined to the roof of the cavern... it's only real means of attack are the tentacles, though they will be extremely deadly and formidable. If the tentacles were neutralized, you would literally have to get in it's face for it to be a direct threat.

6) Flooding the chamber by sea-water may actually be viable, as it will not cause the fishers to flee like smoke, but will make them docile and lazy (glutting on excess of fish now in the cavern) -- the Tamer explains that when this happens, the young/adult fishers will take to the walls (making them no longer a threat if crossing the cavern) as they test the new hunting grounds. Within a matter of weeks however the fishers will fight for territory on the walls leading to mass relocations to the ceiling, making crossing the cavern VERY unsafe. A large hole in the cliff will fill the chamber with 4 feet of water. Larger holes could get the water as high as 8 feet, but this will lead to the beach becoming a drain.

7) Cave cyclops can incite TERROR in cave fishers because they are drastically higher on the food chain, however, the mother would be attracted to the giant as it presents a substantial meal.

"The Cyclops, without support or some strategy/trickery, would doubtlessly die to the tentacles and maw of the beast -- but it is an undeniable asset in that it's mere presence will alter the battle tremendously and divert the mothers attention to it exclusively... while simultaneously sending smaller fishers running. We need a means to keep the Cyclops from running into Tentacles".

"I am open to feed back and suggestions."

The Tactician put down her pointer and patiently waited.

Summary:

- Idea to test sample creatures for poison
-Poison mother by poisoning smaller fishers or feeding it poisoned livestock or both
- Create protective barrier or use terrain to shield soldiers from tentacles
- Use alcohol to neutralize stickinesses of tentacles either by dousing tentacles or by dousing our selves.
- Attack tentacles first and hope that creature is slowed by poison
- Get close enough to fire the Balilista (ask Dwarves to help modify) with Mana crystals (only have 2 bolts) to shoot in face.
 
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MFGPwJz.png


Grimdr received word that the Highborn sook to steal their peoples livestock. He respected their new friends but he could not allow this. He sent word back. "Dear friends, I am sorry but I cannae agree. These are natives of our home. They are as much a part of my people as our culture and our faith. I would not take your belongings or any such creatures of your heritage from you, so doing the same is immoral to do to my kind. However, because of your kindness to me and mine, I will promise you first pick of any offspring come from breeding and will offer them to you to repay your kindness. I can alsu offer you the usage of them on loan, when ya' need 'em. But thems be at home below the ground. When ya get your offspring from woh lads. We will build you an awful lovely stable below the ground near ya things tae keep 'em in."​
Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion

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The Highborn began informing them of their own tactics. Clearly thinking them vastly superior. Grimdr had considered a few of them, poisons, cave ins and other crazy possibilities but they seemed impractical. The Idea the made the most sense to him was effectively the same tactic he had devised but... with a ballista. Sea water? Flooding this cavern would greatly inconvenience his plans and could prove dangerous. He already know how much damage both above and below could be caused with an artificial cave in. Flooding the cavern could soon end up eroding the cavern more quickly and cause a greater scope of cave ins, making the entire underpinnings of the colony unstable. While Poison could work, it could also get into possible sources of drinking water, especially for future Dwarvern expansions. Poison also seemed impractical, requiring efforts made to ensure limited effects on the surrounding ecosphere while also ensuring it has its desired effect. It could cause massive destabilisations to the subterranean ecology of the area. The Firebeards would never allow this. And wasting Alcohol? What madness. However, using the cave Cyclops with dwarvern shield wall protection to scare the younglings while the more skilled soldiers then moved out to ensure the tentacles did not damage the Balista while they fired it. That seemed the best plan to him. And he would happily turn his skills and his peoples skills to creating the best weapon possible in the interim.​
Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion and all the lovely allies helping me with my battle.

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Hearing of the Archaeological society and knowing what importance it could hold, as well as what possible issues it could cause, seeing how most archaeology was below the ground, Grimdr asked if any dwarves would offer their services. A couple of Skilled workers, a Dwarvern version of an 'Archaeologist' a Time miner, often nicked 'Timer' as they were generally older and were effectively miners that used their knowledge of mining to mine just a little bit finer rather then faster. While this one was not as skilled at those from home he still had a passion for history and the value within. The other was just a miner.​
KamiKahzy KamiKahzy

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"Aye, you'd buy me a Drink?" Said the dwarf in response to the offer. "The lads were sayin' your lot were good sort. Not like those we knew. Ya knaa we be worshippin' that Dragon Goddess the men down on the Docks nae doubt informed ye of? Ya also knaa that we beleive in family, community and friendship far more 'en order? If so, an ya still be offerin' me a Drink then my next song will be twice as good an' I i'll make sure ya dance and sing wit' us!" he said. "So, I gave ya a little run down about my lot, what ya willin' tae say aboot yours?"​
general ostruppen general ostruppen

----------------------------------------

The Dwarves are willing to dedicate everything to the fight. 30 Skilled worked are ready to stand by, tools in hand, in case things go bad. 15 Skilled Warriors are ready to form a wall, defending the army as best they can. 4 Deep Rangers intend to risk it all to help slay the Mother. 5 Very Skilled workers are slaving away and will stand with the workers when the battle begins, ready to give their all. Grimdr himself will stand amongst those in the wall, giving his skill and his weapons to the fight also.
The last of the workers will stand further back, helping with various tasks and otherwise keeping out of Danger on Grimdr's orders. He figured they needed someone able to walk and talk should his people be unable. Someone needed to nurse them back to health were it possible.

----------------------------------------

Actions:
- Dwarvern look at the Highborn tactics
- Request made to the Highborn to allow the Dwarves to by their native beasts in return for future gifts of them and other items relating to their keeping and happiness
- Grimdr offers his Runesmithing abilities and his other skilled workers abilities in improving the Balista
- 2 Skilled workers join the Archaeology Guild
- Dwarves Dedicate: 35 (V)SWorkers, 15 SWarriors and 4 Deep Rangers. to the Cave Fisher Fight.
​
 
"Let me out -- white light turns to red, o'er the city of the dead"

Ryleon and her accompaniment found a venue worthy of their performance -- Orchestrae Maximae, an underground opera house that seated as would a stadium... the perfect acoustics of the place showed itself immediately, as even the soft cadence of their footfalls in the dust rung and presented to the space. She could hear her very breath cast away from the stage and reflected back at her -- just as true. This Miracle construction emtombed sound as easily, it would seem, it entombed souls.

To a packed house, green and red eyes burned in skulls, and one by one, score by score, hundreds upon hundreds of baleful eyes stared upon the stage as Ryleon, Urun and her musicians mantled up onto the high stage. The combined light of the undead gaze cast about the stage like their own performance-lights, and Ryleon stepped into center stage, a spotlight of red and ghostly green illuminating her as she began to sing, as Urun pounded the hollows of his armor in percussion, The Systiars began to play, and The Dark Angel of the stage parted her hair as a curtain and poured her soul into the stands...



She could see countless souls chained to their seats, to their BONES -- and used every bit of dexterity in her instrument and in her voice to wail as their banshee a song that would free them -- wake them up -- deliver that which they waited for. Her anthem was not long, nor did it need to be...

...Some awoke quickly, then died again where they sat. But most Shook off the dust of their bones like it was a hoary frost and as if in answer to the chorus -- sought the exits like they were the last water in the desert. Hands burned, their clothes fell away, their mouths bled colored flame as they RUSHED for the exits... clamoring over each other, stampeding, climbing the stands as if they were a mountain. They could leave... they would escape, outside -- NOW. Like a mad herd they clattered away, the creaking and snapping of their bones sounding like a flame that almost threatened to overcome, to drown out the Nylor anthem -- but they played, she sung, ever louder. What state would they be in when they realized their spell was broken?

Ryleon was unsure -- but she had reached out and touched the hearts of thousands -- hearts long gone to the world, but nonetheless imprisoned. She saw the locks in their souls -- and her words gave them the keys...

....Thousands of skeletons poured out of the Orchestrae Maximae -- down the main street, where they bared down running, on twos and fours... onto and down mainstreet, where they turned to the east en masse... far ahead, another group of intentioned interlopers were already on their own approach, their own performance, be it of song, or of sword...

But even before then, that host crossed the threshold or the ruins --



The Victorians Balked at the place of seeming honor this colony held for this witch... Cassandra, hovering in the wind with her arms spread open, clashed her wrists together and the braids of strange armor around her coiled and seethed like snakes... not just as they twixt about her body in a fashion both lewd and disturbing, but that her very back erupted with two additional arms, like coiled snakes...

As they passed under the attolian guardhouse, the unofficial border of the ruin with the platz, these metal tendrils hoist the Skullstaff "Bloodscourge" and the Ivory scepter of Undead control.

The devout shielded themselves with their faith, and so too did the knights of St. Victoria, from this witch, but moreso the curse that seemed to fall like a hammer upon them the further they went in...

....Shul had found the united voice of the district's longdead, and in his bouncing trance, he channelled their song to the sirens, who wailed of their agony, poison, and time...

"White Light Fade to Red, as I enter the city of the dead" spoke Cassandra, channeling the spirits of the longdead like blood in the veins of the streets...

Abel, not to be outdone by the unholy choir, called together the devout into songs of their own -- Hymns of Protection, challenge, and defiance. Both songs buffeted against each other, as it began to rain... the sirens amplified all with their unique voices -- the songs, as if in battle carrying over the very platz itself.

The Victorian Onri Ghol had shown spells of candlelight and wind to Bruul before the journey -- he knew few non-holy spells but those he used to provide soft light to read and that which he used to dismiss such cantrips... but Bruul took to them. Unchambering a few punches in time with the spell, he made a great wind which kept the worst of the rain off of the assembled host... Similarly he threw candle-lights everywhere... in every window, and along the path the procession took, so that even the stragglers in the ruin would find and follow them. One after the other, the bell and scepter brought the hundreds of longdead out of the ampitheaters where they sang in mourning, gazed in awe at the benediction of the Victorians and the Sirens, and too were swept on the sea of wind, of light, of song, and of magical compulsion.

The faith of the rich took off their dogtags and handed them to the rearguard. While all stood firm -- the Pension Legionaires wondered if today was their day.

Flanking Cassandra were the sundered kings, and the Attolian constructs, while at the very back of the column the fennec brought up the rear... Where the longdead reached out, the fennec made silent holy gestures for misdirection with one hand and where they could nicked a ring or bracelet from the fog of outstretched hands. They moved about carefully amid the looming shadows of their Aymaran escort -- it might all count on how they responded if things suddenly turned sour... if the column had to fall back, it would be on their merits.

To the sides of the devout the diversity of the war-host could be felt. Aymarans walked behind the ranks of blessed mail, to one side stood towers of hair, muscle, and bull iron. To the other, constables Sir Magda had chosen herself, and Attolian Halbardiers with weapons of cold iron and silver.

It was then they saw the peaceful and bewildered host they played pied piper to come in contrast with the running, gnashing longdead of the Ocestrae Maximae --

"HOOOOLLD!" Bellowed Bruul -- FOR I SHALL SHOW THEM A FIRST STRIKE WHEN THEY COME!

Cassandra bid the sirens to keep singing, and the devout unslung their shields and readied their weapons with the rest of the war host as they began to see confusion take the eyes and souls of the longdead.

All around them -- the spell was being broken. Anger... fear... but worst of all... AWARENESS of their own fate.

The Tyren Mercenaries smiled and spit on their guantlets, rubbing them together. The end had come, after all... as the throng began to close from all directions....


...It was then that Eileen struck a single torch-flare, and held it aloft -- burning a magnesium white, it was all the signal those back at the lighthouse, observing with the spyglasses, needed to see.

"White light turn to red, indeed" The Monk of the Lighthouse tower grumbled. He nodded to a small host of lesser monks, who at once brought their victorian candles down on the tear of divinity that rested within the innermost part of the lighthouse...

...The Wave came again, as it had before -- and all the dead, even those running -- stopped to see it approach. All in the platz gazed in awe, and the entire war host bathed in a holy warmth the likes of which many did not believe they could feel, and that the devout cherished as once in a lifetime...

The Theater District was swept wholly and utterly in the second wave of the lighthouse...

"So beauiful" was the utterance most often witnessed of those longdead that could speak in the awe of their coming freedom...

...and destruction.

Skeletons vanished to dust and collapsed in piles... Instead fogs of ghosts whirled near the ground in confusion... until they found the candlelights, and took them skyward...

Bruul FILLED the air with candle-sparks... and the devout and cannonates did the same -- one light for each soul, Bruul demonstrated the use of the wind, also speedily improvised by the devout to tether each ghost to a light, and to send them flying skyward... other ghosts grabbed the essense of others as they rose, but at this point Cassandra waved her Silver and crimson limbs like one directing takeoff of thousands of tiny craft... the scepter and staff compelling the ghosts ever higher, until they floated on their own, to be burned away by the slowly expanding ring that flew above them far overhead.

Those Longdead that were for the moment aggressive, were catapulted skyward with the rest... in awe of their own destruction -- and perhaps absolution. Shul fainted as the spiritual landscape turned into a relative desert -- he had reached out to so many spirits, that all at once fell silent.

As the last of the ghosts left the ground, Bruul proudly planted his hooves in the dirt and chambered a glorious punch. This one was special, his hand glowed white and red, and faded with the energy of devout ghost-lights and their strange spirit-power. "One for the Bank. For Emergencies." Bruul smiled... the punch felt wonderful to chamber, as opposed to the normal feeling they had, that of forcing a 10 foot iron chest into a 5 foot wooden one. Was this a spiritual experience? If so, it was nice, but he wondered why humans would let such feelings of spirits have such sway over their lives. This holiness, if it was that, was his to loose on his enemies.

Dawn came an hour early that day. The Nylor had emerged from the ground and witnessed the spectacle that they too had helped to wrought. The perpetual overcast of the ruin left this part of the city...

...The theater district rested in peace... it's final performance one of sound, song, fury, and light.

"By the Pantheon" said the Halbardiers

"By Saint Victoria and her light" said the devout

"BYE." Said a brute.


And there they all stood -- in the ashes and dust of almost three-thousand of the what must have been some of the cities most cultured and affluent citizens.

The Fennec were already BULGING with loot they had scooped off the ground, and running out of places to hide it, had begun to EAT manageable and rounded bits of swag.

By final count 5 WEALTH in loose jewelry alone lay on the mainstreet haphazardly flung about mainstreet... perhaps it was crass to discuss division of plunder then and there... but in the days that came, it would be an issue to broach...

RESULT:

THEATER DISTRICT JOINS AGORA DISTRICT IN BEING PURGED OF RESTLESS SPIRITS!!!!

+3 influence Attolia, Victorians, and Tyren! +2 Influence Fennec!
 
"Ring of Red, Sphere of Black"

It was this time, the ring again spread to it's full span over the platz, into the ruin, and out over the sea, and into the plains and the great trees of the east...

...But this time there was no sudden burning or mysterious objects to fall from the Great trees -- no bones, no shells.

Instead, an orb of pure blackness, silent but crackling with static spread full and covered the top of the tree of bones. What was once three great evergreen bough'd towers were now two works of nature and a Black Pearl resting on what looked more now like a massive matchstick. Where the Sphere touched the trunk of the tree, an angry charcoal red cracked and hissed, and embers fell like rain upon the shadowfields.

To be struck once with holy light, apparently that cursed tree would abide...

...But this time, it RESPONDED -- and the holy arc of Victorian truth dashed against it, and dissolved.

 
Much progress had been made on the carapace discovered under the tree. The claws were removed and turned into swords of sharpness. The blades cut with surgical precision, and would have been the subject of great interest to Dr. Fleming if the claws were smaller. For now though, the claws could be used blades. Further studies were being conducted by the chemist in order to see if the chitin was weak to something. In fact, the chemist needed 2 wealth to begin his studies, which he did receive and the assistance of 15 Skilled Workers. However, as of now, the chitin was among the strongest materials that the Attolians had ever seen. This boded ill, but something had to be done in order to find a weakness to the chitin especially since this being seemed to be a part of the cull, and what a fearsome foe it was. For now, Dr. Fleming findings were made public, and Caelis hoped that the Chemist would find something soon as well.

---

The expedition to the Agora set off one more time. While there didn't seem to be anything major of note in the Agora left, the mosaic needed to be opened. Caelis' honor and duty demanded he try to retrieve their bodies. Thus, the Engineer set off with the 50 sirens and a small group of assistants. The sirens would have their opportunity to try to open the mosaic, but if it failed, then it would be up to the engineer to try to find a way to pry the mosaic open.

---

Dr. Fleming found the hygiene standards of the colony to simply be horrific. While he did some good with his lectures, the Colony simply did not have sufficient infrastructure to deal with the hundreds of Colonists and their waste. Thus, Dr. Fleming began his next ambitious project. The Highborn did a great job with getting baths around the Colony, so that people would be able to clean themselves. However, what of the waste that people produce? The Colony needed a proper latrine system, and he decided to take charge of this. It was a bit of an ambitious project as he planned to build public latrines in the most populated areas of the Colony: the depression, the Platz, the Attolian Housing Quarter, The Capital, and Harun Taras. Gods knew where all the waste had been going... and quite frankly Dr. Fleming didn't want to know. However, this was a major issue that had to be dealt with. Thus, Dr. Fleming gathered a task force to begin this project. The latrines would have two major impacts. One, hygiene and sanitation would benefit greatly. Second, the waste could be used as fertilizer or for other purposes.

---

With winter slowly approaching, people would try to stay indoors as much as possible. However, Learner's Square was the center of the Colony, but it was largely barren. It was a nice field, but there was no dedicated building of education. It was this concern that prompted the Linguist to propose a Colonial College at Learners Square. This was to make sure that people would continue to learn even when the weather was inclement or the temperature was too cold. Otherwise, the Linguist feared that people would largely stay holed up in their homes, and not bother to come to Learner's Square. Thus, the Linguist began an ambitious project as well. After all, it was about time that there was a place of higher level education in the Colony. Many colonists have learned of each other's culture and languages, but skills and knowledge seemed to be stagnant in pools with small leaks here and there. Hopefully, this College with a proper curriculum and schooling would teach all Colonists the knowledge that they need to prosper.

---

The recently discovered missile heads from the Silo are sent to the mages guild for analysis and study to figure out what they are.

---

With the theater district cleared, a new expedition went off to recover the bodies of their fallen comrades, and to begin the searching of the district. The men found that they needed to justify their losses, and seemed to be energized to begin the search of the District. Death was a part of the job, but the Halberdiers didn't want their friends deaths to be in vain. A solemn Jav and Tomaz were a part of this expedition that began to enter the district. An unusual silence filled Tomaz's squad. "Oi, why are you so quiet all of a sudden, Jav? Weren't you giddy like a kid when we got our new weapons? We finally had a job to put them to use."

"...Do you think it's worth it Tomaz?"

"What in the bloody world are you talking about Jav?"

"Those Longdead... they didn't understand what was going on. Everything was above their heads, so they just... 'lived' like we do. But, to be honest Tomaz, I don't get what's going on either. The Lady Cassandra looked like she was possessed as she casted her spells... everyone else too. There were rings of fire in the sky, and there we were. Just watching and barely able to do anything other than push any of the Longdead away if they got too close. How do you live with all this... uncertainty?"

Tomaz was about to shout at Jav for talking nonsense, but his silence was unsettling. Thus, Tomaz fell silent for a few seconds as he carefully thought about how to respond.

"You know Jav. I have no idea. We're... no. I'm just a soldier who takes orders and I think a do a good job of that. So, I don't know what to tell you Jav. But, you're a bright fella. I'm sure that you'll find the an answer one day."

Silence then befell the squad once more.

...

"Pfft."

Tomaz smiled slightly under his helmet, and asked "What's so funny, Jav?"

"You just called me bright. Hah! So maybe Lord Lothar is right!"

"Yea Jav, just maybe..."

Orders;

1. Opening the Mosaic and exploration of the Well
Engineer, Caelis, Cassandra, 50 Siren, 2 Augmented Stone Constructs, 5 Skilled Workers, 10 Unskilled Workers, 10 Halberdiers, 5 Constables, 2 Sundered Kings

2. Construction of Public Latrines in several areas: Depression, Platz, Attolian Housing District, Capital, Harun' Taras to promote hygiene, sanitation, and serve as an extra source of fertilizer. Dr. Fleming, Preserver, 5 Skilled Workers, 15 Unskilled Workers, 1 Wealth

3. Construction of a proper Colonial College for education at Learner's Square that can allow for lessons despite inclement weather
2 Units of Marble, Linguist, 10 Skilled Workers, 15 Unskilled Workers, 1 Wealth

4. Searching of the Theater District and recovery of the 3 Dead Halberdiers
Geologist, 10 Skilled Workers, 15 Unskilled, 2 Augmented Stone Constructs, 5 Halberdiers, 5 Constables

5. The magical crystal missile heads are sent to the Mages Guild for inspection and analysis

6. All knowledge of the chitin learned by the Attolians are shared with the Colony
 
Aftermath ​

As the skeletons clamoured over themselves, the strings of the Systiars wisped in massive bursts. Ghostly images travelled outward from the strings, a wavelength of arcane energy traveling as spider webs. Crossing itself by reflection off the walls. As everything lightened the room, the energy collects in the center as a sphere. Quietly dispersing. Leaving some lights in purple haze and the whole atmosphere of the amphitheater in a dream-like state. The amphitheater misted slightly before leaving Ryleon, Urun, and others in silence. Pure silence. Ryleon rubbed her Systiar as she waddled out as the dead did before. She turned, letting her hand fall Urun’s face. Caressing it as she snuggled in for a hug. Her hair wisp around Urun, letting him sigh in relief. He throws his arms around her, letting them hold her close. The magic still in her glowed on contact with Urun’s face, his responded with a sticky black substance. Letting a complete contrast form.

“You did good, we’ll need to remember the proper instrument of percussion. So you can play that instead.” Her voice rang with the air, with everything of the land. Faintly saw the others that confronted the dead, they were releasing the dead to the afterlife. She looked to the others, “Go to our kin in the Highborne Quarter and tell them to bring everything to the Amphitheater. Do not stop on Highborne request and tell them that everything is still to plan. Tell them that if they have any questions to seek me out. Once you reach it, search for supplies and anything of interest. If you find anything of our people, I will have first looks if possible.” She sighed, “Urun, my dear, come and let us share victory with the colonists. They should know of our involvement. We will stake our claim of the Amphitheater and its contents.”

Urun nodded, “What do we plan to do with it?”

“I had intentions of not being so close to the colonists, but I think they need our guidance. So we’ll expand and convert the theater to amplify sound and house new trees. We’ll convert this district of the city we once knew to the dream. If we settle here, we’ll have an easier time converting the “Platz” to our lands. I think I saw a sea to the south, we could develop a water purification system and use that to handle our water needs. Then develop root travel systems to the North and see if we need to specialize them for anything. All of course after we meet the Sylvan.”

“We could use magic to invert gravity and let the waters flow up the mountain and then back down on the other side. Have the necessary funneling systems and filtration systems. The salt we would extract from the sea water could be used to produce us coin.”

“Our pure waters would become great for drinking, bathing, or anything else that water is used.” Ryleon responded happily to Urun’s analysis.

Urun twiddled his thumbs, “Yes, then we develop our agriculture with the help of our expert. And everything else we stumble upon. But what did you have in mind for the theater?”

Ryleon giggled, “We turn it into a music house, open up and allow sound to exit without ruining the acoustic perfection. I’m sure we’ve done it before. Use magic to amplify further and have shows every weekend.” Ryleon graced out of Urun’s arms, meandering playfully as her hair transformed. The yellow chilled into turquoise of icy preposition, sealing glow inside. It traveled down her hair constantly like a scanning probe, like the white foam of ocean waves. Her straight transformed into an ever crackling frozen fire. Every layer crackled letting it contrast to the waves of glow. Her hair moved constantly.

Her voice approached the others, singing as the Dark Angel or the ancient banshee. She could be heard all over the colony as before. Her instrument receded into the disk form, the arms folded over and the strings consolidated into slots inside the instrument, detaching and filling as gelatin. She tightly strapped the Systiar to herself, letting multiple jumps exit her before she stood.

“Hello, colonists, you're welcome to our services again.” She wanders a little while singing a peppy song, “Our voice has returned, the Anthem has been has been played. These dead were freed of their curse, by our songs.” Ryleon giggled, yet eyed the Tyren, she could sense the Sylvan magic on them. She was not pleased, but it was hard to tell. “The Night shall not be feared, we have come together to end strife for the dead. The night graced you with an Anthem. These dead were free when they confronted you. By their willingness to be free. Nylor magic is supreme and anything holding cannot stand. You do not need to thank me. I feared that you would make their situation worse. When my people reported a sighting of them, I feared you would create a grave for yourselves.” Ryleon waited patiently after she finished her touch of Sylvan tongue.
Heyitsjiwon Heyitsjiwon Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion Spacekitty Spacekitty SpiralErrant SpiralErrant And Anyone else.

Summary:
The Amphitheater is searched for items.
 
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