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

[Prince Vaethorion]

General Deth Glitch

The Prince states. "One cannot steal something that is owned by no one and is for sale. However in regards to the beasts, I understand and have been informed of the special subterranean relationship the Dwarfs have with these creatures and we respect this. Just as if Dragons, Griffins, Pegasus, Lions and Unicorns were to unlikely appear, it would be clear that the Highborn have a special kinship with these animals. Therefore, the proposal to offer them once bred is received well. In truth, the Highborn wanted the creatures to be used for the Colony to be used for pulling a Stage coach to better transportation between the Capital, the Platz and the Port. This until the Runners are tamed to perform such tasks. The Highborn are putting priority on the Colony's needs, and the Colony needs Steeds and beasts of burden."

"As for tactics, I am assured that any poison would be only consumed by the Mother Cave Fisher and not harm any ecosystem. Also, additionally, the Spirits used would be of the harshest unrefined kind, one that certainly Highborn would not consume and would even offend most Dwarfs tastes, although I cannot be so sure. You see, the adhesive on the tentacles are very dangerous for it's how the tentacles grab it's victims to eat them. The alcohol renders them to be non sticky and thus albeit can still be of danger, makes it harder for them grasp any of our soldiers in combat. This is cheap grain alcohol that is easy and cheap to make. We will experiment on it's young to see if fire harms it. The Alcohol in theory could be used to set the monster on fire, as well, but this might be dangerous.

Spacekitty KamiKahzy
"We are doing tests. I am awaiting to hear back from the Finnecians and Ratkin about a potential poison. If we are fighting this beast together, please be receptive to less conventional strategies."

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

Zaltusinel Beckoncall Enemy Standoo Heyitsjiwon Spacekitty SpiralErrant


The Prince was aggravated at the news that he had missed the battle at the theater district. "What do you mean the battle ended? We have not arrived yet. The Prince was accompanied by Cleric, Linguist. Arch War Mage, plus 30 Highborn. Ten Sword Masters, Ten Archers and ten Skilled Spearman. As tasks were completed the labor demands freed up and this would be distraction from other pressing matters, but this was important as territorial claims were involved.(the Highborn that have been mining/collecting mana crystals were summoned to rally)

An extremely Apologetic Captain of the Swordmasters "Úhaelchon" said, "My Prince, all of your Highborn have been working hard on their various tasks, it took time to assemble them. The Humans see time differently from us, remember they die very quickly and soon, so time is of the essence."

The Prince still looked vexed. "It is to time consuming to tramp about on feet with no Lions, Horses, Griffins, Pegasus, Dragons to ride about on! " The Prince was inwardly annoyed at not bringing his steeds, but there was not enough food, resources, time to bring them when they left. The Prince was in great shape and could use the Way if needed, but to bring 30+ High Elves into another dimension was no feat to take lightly and was dangerous. The Prince said as they marched quickly, but not enough to tire out his Race. "How are the Runners coming along?" The Cleric said, "Last I heard my Liege, it was going surely but slowly, the Tyren are a gifted race when it comes to taming and working with herds, but our Tamer has been so busy with "Sloth" The Cave Cyclops that he has been unable to participate in their taming lately. I fear, he has grown very fond of the Cave Cyclops. They have become as the Commoners here say "Besties". This is a childish phrase that humans use to denote strong friendship among themselves. I do not understand how he can become attached to such a brute, but he is an odd Highborn if you don't mind me saying."

The Prince replied, "yes, he does march to his own beat. The Runners must be tamed, so we do not have walk about all over this Star forsaken land." As he said this, the Highborn had arrived to the large Amphitheater at the Theater district. The one that he had divided with the Attolians and now were being trespassed upon by his familiar Colonial mates, and the other newly arrived Races. "the New Ones" they were called. The Recently arrived Temple Goers who the Highborn respected for their honor, lawfulness and code, who the Prince found to be a bit haughty and prude, the odd Nylor a distance Cousin to his people, an odd Race, but interesting, the Fox Folk who had made strides to redeem himself, but were still not completely trusted the Tyren who have been steadfast and surprisingly good Colonist. (The Prince had to reexamine his personal prejudices because of them), and the Attolians who the Prince had an successful alliance with. It is the latter the Prince had long discussed before the "new Ones" arrived plans for Attolian and Highborn expansion into the theater and Agora districts.

The Prince arrived and noticed a dispute brewing over spoils and territory. The Highborn were at ready, but not hostile, they came for a battle and arrived for a parlay among "Allies".

The Prince understood the nature of the dispute and ordered his linguist to help resolve it. Meanwhile the Prince ordered some scouts to look about for suitable areas for the Highborn to begin the long term and JOINT project to rehab and secure the Theater district to be divide among all involved parties.

The Prince immediately saw that the Nylor were making claims, acting peculiarly from non Elven standards, and the Attolians, and Victorians were not pleased, even hostile. This would be need to be resolved amicably or bloodshed might ensue.

It was clear that the Prince had his Astral tear of divinity on his person. It glowed.

The Prince said with regal authority in accented Common and later in a bit and after in broken ancient Elven which was more Sylvan and not very clear perhaps to the Nylor, "Greetings fellow Colonist! Newcomers, old friends, and all! We apologize for our tardiness! We so appreciate your assistance in clearing out the Theater district! This has been long in coming and planned by the Attolians and ourselves since our arrival some time ago. It could not be done by us alone and this act of joint forces is another testament to the unity and efficiency of the Colony and the Colonist!"

The Prince continued and stood majestically on a piece of marble for effect. His harmonious, clear voice resonating to all. His charm was unmistakable as was his leadership powers. "This district is big enough for all involved to lay claim to and share, but this must be negotiated with calm heads and with logic. We cannot allow our passions to get the best of us. We Highborn are willing to share it and I believe the Attolians are as well. (the Cleric whispered something to the Prince). The Nylor need a place to settle and they can find a niche in the district to settle, and if they feel inclined towards the Amphitheater, it is my understanding that they helped break the spell to help the clearing of this district and helped put the dead to rest. There is much more of the city to clear, to rehabilitate, to claim, to explore and to gain profit of.
The Highborn make no claim on any immediately found treasure, but lets be clear the Highborn and Attolians have been working on this area for awhile, and before the various factions begin grabbing this or that, we must speak together, coordinate, share and work together as this is just the latest frontier to be secured. There is much more to made safe, much more land to be cleared, treasure to be had and land to expand to, but we cannot do it alone. Therefore, I suggest negotiating our various claims."

The Prince said gently, but firmly and a bit authoritatively (but unintentionally so), "The Theater district will NOT be handed over to one faction or another, but I am sure the Amphitheater could serve as domicile to the Nylor if the others agree to it. The items will likely need to be divided and the theater district itself treasures are to be shared by all here. The Fennec portion should be given to the Colonial bank to help cancel off their debt and the district divided among us. To be honest, We had every intention to claim the entire district, but seeing how you all fought valiantly and are here now, as we are spread thin, we must concede to share it and set our sights to clear the rest of the city as it's dangerous still."

Prince finished with "I must add that we must start creating communal space for ALL the colonist, not just our factions".

The Prince orders his translators to help the Nylor translate and will work with them to teach them Common.
The Prince suggests a satellite learning center in the theater district, not to compete with main one but to work on Nylor, Attolian Highborn and other factions communicate better.

The Prince acknowledges the Fennec service and notes that this worked towards their probation.


-order summary

Prince suggests negotiating, Fennec portion going to Colony coffers, Nylor can claim Amphitheater if the Attolians agree (the Highborn back the Attolians), the rest are thanked for helping out, and plans are made to divide and convert district to become habitable.

The Highborn help others communicate with Nylor.

The Highborn continue to stake claim on part of the the Theater district and scout out suitable buildings and other theaters to claim and rehab.

Added in addendum: Highborn cleric helps wounded

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon

"Get ready to run if things go bad."

The Key'ed one's head sagged -- to a level that put nicholas' distorted face on the mirror that served as his, helysoune, standing next to him, was distorted along the periphery of the image, making it look all the more unsettling to see his face on the key-backed heap of clockwork.

"Not from City. Attolian designation not recognized as hostile and activities corroborate this. Proposal: We send regiment of damaged 1s and your return with refurb 1s. When force strength is restored, aggressions against Zebani can be resumed, and Attolians are welcome to join in liberation of the city from outside threats, and the protection of spires is guaranteed as far as it does not endanger the city. This war has been raging anew of late, high evidence of casualties in eastern districts -- but with your help the Zebani Culprits can be destroyed, and once their siege is lifted the spire network can rebuild in earnest. New allies to an old conflict are welcome -- what say you?"

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon :

"Kobold Social Structure" --

So far, not so bad. The new Kobold chief has shifted mostly to cursing and threats in the face of his official power, and has a small complement of bullies and sycophants to solidify his position and for other kobolds to follow. As of yet, Chief Kobold, who seems to be referred to as "Ah! Jafootie! Ty-tau! Ty-tau!" keeps all payment for indentured servants for himself, mostly as a pile he places his cushions on in his house. He instead buys large amounts of food and feeds the "tribe" -- which seems to be a comfortable arrangement. All Kobolds are crammed into three houses in the Attolian housing district, and refuse to spread out -- fighting over tiny patches of straw-laden floor rather than occupy new houses. Strangely, "Ah! Jafootie! Ty-Tau! Ty-Tau!" works the same job as everyone else, though he gets what he believes is the best tools and support.

 

[Spacekitty]

I Have Been Absent For A While. Damn AP Tests! Here's a Filler Orders List to Get My Ball Rolling Again!

"Community Service"
<Story Post Coming Soon>

Summary: The Finecian Thugs drop the 1 wealth they stashed, and give up claims to the 5 + 1 (6) Wealth laying about on the ground. They request/suggest their share of 1 Wealth be given to the Amaryans who helped the colonial forces clear the area. Heyitsjiwon Prince Vaethorion

"A Finecian Flair"
The Finecians, required to provide at least 30 manpower to the construction to the Colonial project continue to provide their support. Ample Amber will be given to the colonial building, and they offer to source Wood from their local forests to help build and decorate the interior. They continue to provide drinks and food to the workers (Freemen, Exiles and colonial) at their own expense, and offer 1 wealth to be distributed among workers (Freemen, exiles and Colonial for their services.

Summary: The Finecians supply Amber, Wood, Drinks and Food to the Colonial Government Building Project. They offer 1 wealth total in compensation to be divvied up amongst all workers (Freeman, Exile and Colonial) Capo sent to oversee and motivate Finecians, along with to personally hand our drinks to workers to build a good rep among them. "We are all on the same level friends!". 1 Capo, 1 Troll, 10 thugs and 10 skilled workers delegated to the project.

"I Kill Your Monster, You Kill Mine"
The Amaryans (10 Brutes, 1 Scarred) are invited to further kill their purses and stomachs at an EATING event held by the Dwarves! They are warned that their meals bite back, so they will have to help the colonial forces kill the before eating them. The Skilled THugs will now be sent to help kill the Cave Fisher. Beyond that, already delegated forces for the most part, remain in effect. As part of an agree made with the Firebeard Dwarves and to help protect the colony from the Cave Fisher threat, the Finecian's agree to provide assistance by sending the Dwarves additional troops, Grump the Troll, Andrei (Capo-Illusionist Assassin), Jonti (Capo-Illusionist), 4 thugs, and 5 skilled brewers/nurses (They would merely know how to brew certain medicines, not true doctors save first aid). However, the Finecians refuse to fight if the Highborn do not agree to the course of action. They will only fight if the Highborn do as well.

They suggest using firebombs and poisons to kill/weaker the beasts and can provide some alcohol.

The 5 skilled workers and the Master Brewer are told to produce powerful poisons and toxins that could be used against the Cave Fishers. Prince Vaethorion

UNTIL THIS MISSION IS UNDERTOOK THOSE NOT INVOLVED IN POISON PRODUCTION WILL ASSIST GATHER HONEY
Summary: 1 Troll, 3 Capo, 4 thugs, 5 Skilled Workers, 6 skilled thugs

Sourcing the Goodies
Finecians continue to produce Alcohols and Jewelry for their distribution.
(10 Skilled Workers)

Finecians continue to Fish and ask for Tyren to spare a Tyren to help gather larger fish. SpiralErrant
(1 Troll 5 thugs)
Finecians continue to tend to the Farm
(1 troll, 5 Skilled workers, 5 thugs)

Finecians gather more Amber and request Tyren assistance. 1 Tyren would be enough, more means more Amber for joint projects however. Sontio sent to over see gathering. SpiralErrant
(1 Capo. 1 Troll, 5 Skilled Workers)

The group destined to assist in killing the Cave Fisher is told to gather honey from the river while they await the mission to begin.
Summary: 1 Troll, 3 Capo, 4 thugs, 5 Skilled Workers, 6 skilled thugs



The Runners
Lead Botanist/Biologist sent to help tame runner herds

"Renovations"
Aiming to further establish the "Blooming Lamb" as the colonies high-end tavern and draw more visitors to the Tyren segment of the colony, the Finecians send 3 Jewlers to with their newly gained amber to create scupltors and other decorations to further spruce up the place and compliment the earthly interior. The Finecians ask their Tyren partners to spare at minimum 2 Wood Elves artisans to help decorate the place and create an earthly, nature theme. The two "Brew Masters" remain at the facility. Head Jeweler sent to help in decorations.
Summary: (1 Capo, 5 Skilled workers. 3 Jewelers, 2 Brewers) SpiralErrant

"Playing Nice"
The Finecian deliver Mr. Salvator, who appears tired, weak and sick, and the 6 hitmen to the Colonial Government with Mr. Mallowthew acting as their lawyer. Enemy Standoo SpiralErrant Prince Vaethorion Heyitsjiwon
(Mr. Salvator, 1 Capo, 6 hitmen)

MAJOR EDITS TO COME IF NOT PROCESSED BEFORE DIPLOMATIC AGREEMENTS ARE RUN THROUGH. IF BEING PROCESSED BEFORE DIPLOMATIC AGREEMENTS ARE FINALIZED, PROCESS AS IS)

DIPLOMACY/AGREEMENTS IN PROCESS:
Tyren joint project, Botanical Gardens. Awaiting final details finalization. SpiralErrant

Cleared Theater District agreements Prince Vaethorion Heyitsjiwon

Ratkin getting their end of the proposal in order KamiKahzy

Finecian Guild List for Beckoncall

GROCERS GUILD - Water Plants, Fish, Mushrooms
LUXURY GUILD - Amber, Amber Jewelry, Heavens Aroma, Ale, Wine, Beer
SMITHS GUILD
ARCHAEOLOGY
GUILD

 

[Zaltusinel]

Ranting.EXE​

"Ryleon!" Kuva approached the scene, with Jadius not far behind. The Caliber had been dropped with the others. They led them to Ryleon's voice. They're eyes gazed at one another. Then Kuva stepped forward, giving a tight hug to Urun but quickly let go as Urun somewhat tackled Jadius. "I've heard you've been in some risky business, both of you! Though I figured you guys did more than we did." Kuva snickered before turning his head. "What's this about?"

"Oh the undead were released from this section of stuff. Now the colonists are bickering, and even calling us colonists. How sweet." Sarcasm lived in her voice for a moment. "We've managed to remember an Anthem. And then we'll have some loot." Kuva nodded, rubbing his hands together. "Oh, and from the looks, it may appear we jeopardized their "Operation". These colonists are funny. I go out of my way to save their lives and call what I did a joke. So maybe we run with anything in the amphitheater and not mention it again?"

Kuva yawned, stretching as Urun pulled him and Jadius together. They're union seemed happy, "And play Urether if they bother."

"What you mean by "Play Urether", I thought you didn't do that." Urun posed to Kuva, beside him.

"Make a distraction and let them forget about it. And if they bother too much, let them handle it." Ryleon looked down on her feet.

"I don't think they'll appreciate that, maybe we could do something different. Honestly, I find no point in listening to the babble of the colonists. They bicker over everything, and we just want something they'll let rot. Just like most of the shit that they call a town. By the Goddesses, and they let Sylvan on our lands. Look to that beasty thing, hes been infused. We need to stop them. We can't allow them to bastardize our lands. No! I refuse to surrender to those bastards. They need something to come to them. Maybe... we could..." Ryleon scratched her chin. Her hair continued to crackle and it began to come apparent with sound. "We have multiple ways to deal with them. We can pull the knife and end that way in many fashions. But I don't want to, even they will get that mercy. We tarnish their reputation and paint the picture that they are! We remember everything we can about them, showing these colonists the savages they live beside. We show them our inner beauty, showing how if they remove the Sylvan, that a better will rise in their place. That it is destined to happen! If the Highborn are correct, then the Sylvan are young and know nothing. They'll be easy, once they learn the horrors of their ancestors, they will resent them. They will hate their heritage, and they will learn to fear the night. We go to their lands and we terraform it, we strike through peace, the Sylvan monster of land, choke it and show the Sylvan that their lands are weak and hopeless! That even the apocalypse cannot end the dream! The death of gods means nothing to the dream, that it is truly immortal. If we fail, a new will rise. That is our campaign, that we always come back."

Kuva clapped at Ryleon's speech, "Then let us settle and begin, we could start with them. Maybe now, if we have something to tell." Ryleon shook her head, letting her eyebrows raise as Urun climbed onto Kuva's back. "What are you doing Urun?"

"I'm fixing a stuck in your armor." A loud pop echoed, Urun jumped off and grabbed his stomach, suggesting he was fat. Ryleon giggled and continued.

"I swear some of those skeletons were ours, but most were not. However, we won't tell them that way. We'll tell them we've determined that they were our kin and that we inherit the belongings. If they don't oblige, then their on the own with the skeletons and they will know it is a mute point. And they all will work harder to get any favor from us, after all, we could really help them. And I'm not pleased with how arrogant they are and how lacking in anything. My goddesses, I faintly remember some useless races, but these guys, they are not much better. The Highborne show off their panties as if they were indicators of their achievement. All that shows is their horrible relations and viewpoint of other races. They know nothing and think their better than us! I am not a voice to say either way, but by the goddesses, these colonists are not impressive. They talk of sharing languages and stuff. We'll learn your common, or you learn the common of KALIMDOR. And to add, they all still have that nobility prefix. I'm over two thousand years old, not to count how long we slept, and I can't remember having any of the Lord or Prince stuff. But I'm ranting again." Some of the bystanders started to notice Ryleon's banter. She smiled and turned around briefly.

"I concur, while I trust your judgement my darling, at least we are independent and free." Urun mumbled before looking to the Highborne. "Snobs!" He said in Nylorian and in a way not to allude to what he meant. He turned around and patted Ryleon on the back. "Just relax, we'll show them better. Not like we can't and maybe they can redeem themselves. And if none of the skeletons are of our kin..."

Ryleon winked at Urun, "How will they know? Not like they ever seen one before." Urun made some finger guns and nodded like a gangster. He pondered a little before sitting down.

Ryleon turned back to the bickering colonists, she used her sweet voice, "But oh dear colonists, there is a problem! You see, those bones were my kin and by inheritance. We Nylor take the goods, but the land is free. However, we will still take the Amphitheater."

​

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Prince Vaethorion
Lord Caelis thanks the High Born for taking the initiative in studying the monsters, but also wishes to remind the Highborn that the services of Dr. Fleming are available to them for dissecting and learning more of the "Cave Fishers". The Attolians also suggest that the outpost created in the Agora could be used as a communal space for the factions to exchange goods, ideas and knowledge. With further development, the Agora can truly be reborn as a place for the people.

However, in regards to the long lost kin of the High Born, the Nylor. The Attolians are shocked that they have suddenly begun settling the Theater District right after the expedition had put the thousands of Long Dead to rest. Where we the Nylor when we first set out to clear the Theater District? Where were the Nylor when the Coalition marched to combat the Long Dead and put them to rest? No, they went off on their own, and gods knew what effect they could have had if the Coalition was not ready. Then there are their claims that these were all their lands and their kin who resided here. No one could really prove what they said. However, what irks the Attolians the most is that rather try to communicate with the Colony about their intentions and desires, they simply did whatever they pleased. The Attolians push for all parties to come to the table to discuss how to split claims and loot.

---

Beckoncall

Nicholas was rather confounded by the situation. An entire regiment? It took him nearly a week to fix just one of them. How could they expect to reasonably fix an entire regiment of them? Plus, the Key'ed One seem to think that the city still was at war. Was it wise to inform them that the city had fallen? Would they even understand the situation? How does one explain the undead to something that does not live? Still, Nicholas came this far with honesty. He had no intention of lying, but he would have to carefully navigate this situation. Thus, he straightened his back, cleared his throat and clearly spoke

"Key'ed One. While us Attolians do wish to be allies with the Spire, we do not want there to be any confusion. Only honesty and truth. We currently do not have the spare labor to quickly repair a regiment. An event known as the Cull threatens our existence and will kill us all within a year. Thus, most of our resources are devoted to that cause. However, we can begin slowly repairing the regiment and spare some of our crucial resources and labor in order to help the Spire. I also wish to inform the Key'ed One that the Attolians have visited the City of Berytos...

It has already fallen. Most of it is in ruins, and the inhabitants are... not their original selves. We met General Patricia Sheal, but she was no longer living as well, but she still moved and spoke, propelled by some foul curse or magic. They call themselves the Long Dead. General Patricia invited us to the city and asked for goods and food to buy, which we agreed to. Thus, a trade convoy was sent to the Agora District as a sign of goodwill, which the General welcomed with open arms and with thanks. After the trade, the Long Dead vanished and we were left alone in the Agora. The Zebani also entered the ruins of the City and in habit various basements, sewers and various other covert locations in Berytos. They do not come out often, and seem to prefer enclosed spaces. If the mission of the Spire is to defend the City, then the mission is a failure. Berytos seems to have fallen and the Zebani are in the city.

However, we Attolians seek to rebuild Berytos, to help any survivors of Berytos if they are still alive, and to protect the city. We also seek the Pa'aani and wish to develop a friendly relationship with them. Will the Spire help us just as we seek to help Berytos, the Spire, and the Pa'aani? On behalf of Lord Caelis of the Kingdom of Attolia, I beseech you to consider our gesture of friendship. We are not completely aware of the situation around the region as we have arrived just a few months ago and seek knowledge. However, we wish to make allies and help each other through these difficult and confusing times."

---

Letter Adressed to the Traders:

Hail Captain,

I am Caelis Wolff Attolis, 1st Born to House Wolff of the Kingdom of Attolia and kin of his Majesty the King of Attolia. Due to recent events, this Colony has faced an unfortunate event. The death of the Baronettess Narvik and her Husband. While their ship was not an official ship of the Muurdain, the ship was property of Lady Narvik, and thus should be returned to House Narvik in order to pass the estate to its rightful heir. In order to accomplish this, I wish to charter a writ of courier for you to escort the Narvik ship back to the Old World so that it may be properly returned to House Narvik. For 10,000 gold, I ask that you escort the ship, its cargo and its crew back. The crew seem to be fearful of the Narvik as they failed to protect Lady Narvik. Thus, if you accept this writ, then I hand the retinue and crew of the late Lady if you so desire. Please see me before you depart to make this writ official.

With Best Regards,
Lord Caelis Wolff Attolis

---

Arrest us or let us go. Such an ultimatum would be terminal to the crew of the Narvik. However, recent evidence indicates suspicious activity by the Baronetess. Partcularly, the rubies for sale for 4 wealth but worth at least 8. The Attolians began to suspect that the goods were not all legal or clean and came to be laundered at the Colony. Thus, an order came to arrest the crew for interogation and the ship detained for now while investigations continued. The ledgers, manifests, and maps seized to be inspected. They had to learn where the ship came from, why it came, and where it planned to go. Justice would not evade even a Muurdaan Noble in this Colony.

---

Summary:
Attolians offer the High Born the expertise of Dr. Fleming as he is a master of anatomy and dissections.

Attolians call all relevant factions to the table in regards to the Theater District.

Nicholas continues to speak with the Key'ed One.

Writ of Courier (1 wealth) is offered to trader.

Arrest of the crew of the slaver ship and detainment of ship. Investigation begins.

10 Halberdiers, 10 Constables (withdrawn from colonial project), 2 Augmented Stone Constructs

 

[Beckoncall]

KamiKahzy :

The ratkin construction team arrive at the worksite for the capital building -- and upon demonstrating their competence to some particularly surly plan-tenders amid the Victorians, their architects and experts are given access to the blueprints. Scanning them, it seems some fellow by the name of "Tarkus" has done a GREAT job of making things structurally sound and defensible -- so they set to the business of creating life support opportunities (heating and cooling) -- which just so happen to be navigable tunnels for them, but barely. With complete and secret access the entirety of the structure, it went without saying the bringing cool air up from the ground and harnessing heat from clay pads on the roof would make the building more comfortable than most places in the colony in the top of summer and bottom of winter. With the construction of some braziers that hugged columns in the heart of the structure, it was also possible to centrally heat the structure, given enough fuel. Beyond that they optimized space in the sub-level and where they knew it was possible, placed a secure storage room below the sub-level, with security to be determined by others but hopefully of dwarven design. This would allow the structure to store supplies for security or siege, and "if" the undernetwork could be connected to it the capital could be supplied from underground even!

The pups mostly "tested" the pipes, which amounted to playing around by wriggling through any hole they could fit their heads into. Bucks and does laid pipe and did fine chisel-work to house the air channels, and the superior leadership group once they had their own folk at the job, set about improving the layout of the second story of the building -- with bull-iron struts it would be possible to make the second story a big larger than the first, which could provide shaded gathering areas, canopy stalls, mini-forums, and a variety of other options for the covered area of the floor below... while giving the capital an impressive shape and style that leveraged the myriad handiworks it was built from.

The Clean and Dirty paw representative, as well as Schwalut the Noble footman were confused however where to find the actual seat of government as it was being constructed... surely they were holding meetings, but they did not know exactly where, and so sought to find out...

________________________________________________________________________________

Nateema and her band of dirty paws studied the structure. It STANK of protective magic, she thought -- and no wonder, it was the only intact structure for a vast distance around -- though there was no denying there were more intact ruins deeper in to the far west. Nateema could feel the energy of two tears of divinity -- one was of fire, the other... not so sure. They were EYES. The dirty paws joined Nateema in a trance of sorts, and they began to pense to one another about footsteps... dirty black footsteps that conjured themselves back into being. The dark figure had come up from the beach.. up from the SEA in fact... Nateema had a vision of the shadowy figure breaking out of a little necklace, and rapidly devouring the souls of some Muurdain soldiers that supposedly protected it. More pensing. "It was supposed to be the Imperial governor of the colony, but things did not go to plan..." the dirty paws looked thoughtfully and sniffed at Nateema as she went to deeper trances than she could take them. "It wanted to flee to the new world itself -- it's seeking magic here so that it can find a way home... and disturbing it could be very, VERY dangerous."

Nateema in her trance snuck towards the burning eye while she imagined the other one... was it white? was shut... she crawled around the burning eye and into the mind of the shadowthing -- the FETCH. Stealthfully she wandered the corridors of his skull, keeping to the bones, which she bent around her spirit form to hide her from the Fetche's own mind, and awareness. It was easy, this part -- it did not seem to look inward much, and went to great lengths to cover itself... so much so that anything under it's voluminous robes was discounted as pure secret... even Nateema.

She dared not delve too deeply into the brain of the creature, but her spirit sniffed at the silver threads of the beings thoughts. One thought overrode all others. "HIDE FROM THE GODS. I MUST FIND THE KEYS TO TARTARUS."

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile Hawthorne and his paws were brainstorming in a cave barely large enough to fit them all, seemingly half lab and half hoard of bizarre satchels, fobs and devices.

"Ya know Hawthorne, the highborn requested we take our time learnin' how to poison these Fisher-bugs -- when you think we'll get round to that?"

Hawthorne was busy pulling some kind of bag over his head and fiddling with a broken accordion, wrapped in some kind of fibers.

"We could vent the gas, right? Ain't nothing important above the cave, is there?"

The other four stared at the dirty paw. Blinking. One turned a map on the ground ninety degrees and pensed for him to look at it. He grew silent.

"Way I see it, we got two options -- we make air bladders that allow us to work in the caves -- which I like because if there's one thing I love -- it's the idea that our pups are going to be growing up around not one, but TWO giant chambers of choking and combustable gasses."

"What's the other option?"

Hawthorne interrupted. pensing he was finished tinkering. On his face was a cobbled-together gas-mask -- nothing the Ratkin all hadn't seen before... but as he slowly played the broken accordion, the bag on his back continued to expand, so quickly in fact it made a draft in the chamber.

"I intend to capture all of the gas and pack it away in containers... we sell it as fuel on top of guano, natural gas, yes? or maybe we pressurize it and make chemical weapons. Or Explosives."

"Or empty the bladders at people and when they are all upset that they smell like bat-shit, you set them on fire!" another chimed in.

"We capture the gas, then we use it for whatever we want, then we take guano and sell it, or use it, whatever we want. Venting is waste of poison anyway."

The dirty paws all agreed.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Coalback was incensed. This cave? too much iron. This cave? too much iron. This cave? IRON. The acid in the rennet was taking iron dust from the recently dug caves and giving all the baby cheeses sampled so far acidic, or even metallic flavors. It might be worth trying a curding or two of the acidic cheese caves... but the metallic cheese was a waste, it made one's mouth taste of crackling iron, or aluminum. In the whole complex of tunnels there was only two areas free of this problem -- an area on the eastern fringe of the tunnels that was mostly, if not completely a strange block of pumice. These caves did not flavor the cheeses with iron, but what they DID do was make some of the driest and hardest cheeses they'd ever seen. Likely not palatable to everyone -- there was still potential here if they could get a really fine tasting product, or even just a really strange one. Unique and palatable was all you needed to grasp the coins of noble snobs -- and perhaps the hardest cheese in the world could sell, even if only briefly as a fad in the courts of the old world.

Either that, or it was all wishful thinking. Might as well try to age curds in the bat caves...

There was always hope that the Tyren might lend a hand. Buying their milk and rennet was one thing, but working with their more versed cheese artisans and spicing and fruiting the product with a more delicate ratkin pallate still seemed a viable pursuit...

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Breeze collected her payment from the mercenaries -- they weren't sad, nor surprised to hear he come knocking. They explained that the deal with the Muurdaan had gone south, but that did not invalidate the deal the company had made with the ratkin. Almost sarcastically, the paymaster told breeze that if they wanted to see the incredible riches that slipped through their fingers, they need only seek the counsel of a talking slime in Harun'Taras... Then he took a BIG swig from his tankard and took out the gold-scales...

RATKIN GAIN TWO WEALTH.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Daisy watched Needle muster his forces to join the combined arms drills that had continued on the surface... word was that the drill master for whipping the peace-keeping forces was a woman that never stopped screaming... but they never met her. Instead Needle met strangely calm and disciplined "exiles" and struggled to find a place with working in tandem with the other forces... Mainly seeking flanking opportunities in hypothetical scenarios or lapping around units engaged with shield walls...

Daisy herself sought the tunnels into where the Zebani were encountered, only to find new and smoothly mortared wall blocking the entrance to the cave where the "Roc Heet-built" were seen. If they were welcome before -- it did not seem so now... at least not by this point of entry. Daisy wondered if it were not easy enough to burrow under this new barrier to make contact... but would such unexpected guests be welcomed?

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A mixture of scarecrows and trace-level poisons for pesticides quickly drove the majority of birds away from corn plants on the surface. The Ratkin would have to decide if they wanted to plant the corn wild and widely, or keep it in organized rows beside the attolian farm-plots... this decision would have much effect on how the crop would be both tended and developed...

Hellsnuff seemed to grow quickly when it could be made to flourish, but it was a tempermental little beastie. 1 unit of HELLSNUFF was quickly produced... but try as they might, they could never get it to grow again in the same location. Happy with the great quantity they had already (a little could go a long way) -- they still must embrace that the problem at hand was not a one for farmers... they needed botanists, chemists, or mages to unravel this mystery...

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Market is enriched by flood of new and old grains for sale, including those of the Ratkin. In preparation for winter, many families began to silo stores of grains for baking during the winter when fresh plants would be lean or expensive. Also an unexpected spike in the economy was the consumption of the ratkin themselves -- they would have to get their hands into more capers than farming if they were going to maintain or even sustain the level of growth and celebration that had become the norm. a full coffer of wealth had fled the ratkin economy and off to market as proud bucks prepared feasts, and gifts, and parties, and larders for all the pups coming born.

Current market wealth = 7.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon KamiKahzy :

The Attolian's Falconer is SWIFT in putting a final end, rather than an abatement to the problem of birds eating crops. No more fearing the birds attacking the stores in winter or the seeding in spring... the Attolian's Falcons make a grim example of the first blackbirds that do not respect the scarecrows and... being blackbirds, they wise up to the new tune that Black corn -- that any crop... is not for them.

Birds as far as muddy lake are not free from the directed attentions of the falconer -- the Fennec Spacekitty even realize a predictable increase in output as the sneaky birds look elsewhere...

Attolians gain +1 influence!

 

[General Deth Glitch]

Grimdr politely responded to the Highborn. He was surprised with how patient and calm they were being, elves were notoriously curt and dismissive of other races. "I respect that, however we will happily allow the colony to borrow them in return for you allowing us to give them a few days respite in our hold so they can recover from the journey. Once they have relaxed and gotten comfortable and fully recovered then I'd be more'n happy to allow you the usage of the creature, provided, of course, that they are treated well, though I expect no less from ye fine folks. Please, I do hope this deal is acceptable and will reflect kindly on our request to have a seat at the table, regarding the government. Now when I said that I would nay use nee alcohol, I was referring to our own stockpiles of fine spiced dwarvern ale. If'n you be wanted to waste other supplies I will nay stop ya. I assure ya, I want us to work together both now and in the future. While we may disagree at time, know that I believe in this colony and want to do all I can to help it not only succeed but flourish. I am not a selfish man and e'en if I were, this colony is my peoples last hope." he replied.
Prince Vaethorion


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

Hearing about the recent events in the theatre district and the attempt to revitalise and resurrect it the Dwarves, lovers of culture, dance and storytelling, felt it would be a location they would love to help create and decided to supply stone and help use their workers to create the region. They wanted to help create spaces where stories could be told, culture shared and parties had. Among their many ideas for the area as a statue, depicting one of each race that made up the colony and its factions, stood in a circle around a table, each with a drink in hand. While they would love to gauge the other factions ideas of such a statue they would love to have it as a centre piece for the region if they could.
Heyitsjiwon

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

Not sure if his original letter managed to reach its intended target Grimdr writes another to the fledgling government "Lord, ladies and otherwise leaders o' this colony. I be hoping for a seat for my people at the table of this new government. I hear my request that I be able to deal with my own peoples politics within' me own hold is likely to be respected. However I do ask that despite my people not being all 'official' member like you'uns, we be treat like one. Beyond that I offer my peoples skill to improve all that is the colonies. I offer to build a bunker, strong and secure, for the colony to retreat to should we fail in defeating the cull. I offer to build a vault, strong as any before, for the Colonies wealth and resources to be held. I offer all that, and all I ask is to be tret' equal."
@Colonial Government Prince Vaethorion Heyitsjiwon @others... (Sorry forgot who is Gov'ment)

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

Actions:
- Further talks with Highborn about the subterrainian beasts, including offering to share them with the colony until their own beasts can be tamed
- Many offers sent from the Dwarfs to help the Theatre District, including 10 Skilled Workers and as much stone as proves necessary.
- Offer of a statue showing co-operation and friendship for the Theatre District
- Another request to join the Gov'ment
(Looked through the posts twice but still feel like I missed something, if anyone knows what I failed to address, my address is General Deth Glitch )​

 

[Beckoncall]

Prince Vaethorion Heyitsjiwon :

"Spyglass and Spiral, what perils it tells?"

The Elven Sloop made another pass around the Derelict Fluyt... All the hatches save the bottom tier were battened down, but it could be seen from these that crates bobbed and crowded at them from the inside as it seemed water poured in spouts from these many holes, like a decanter that sprung dozens of leaks. The bottom of the ship too, seemed to have an endless popping of bubbles at the surface -- like the ship was in the perpetual process of, but never actually, sinking.

The shipwright stood in the crowsnest to get a full look from above at the ship, though the masts of the Fluyt were higher than that of the sloops, it was high enough to see well onto deck... and it would seem strangely, below...

This ship had obviously been a victim of the barrier. The masts were burned black -- explaining the loss of sails, and the crew on deck could be seen as burned black as well... little more could be told of their races or dispositions, only that they were mostly charcoal, and the wind and sea was doing a splendid job of spreading their remains all over the deck, turning whatever folk they were into ebon stains spreading on the wettened wood...

At the center of the ship was no denying it -- a hole had seemingly been blasted into the spine of the ship, ripping a hole in the top deck, and even, the shipwright spied, a second deck below. Evidence of fire ravaging the middle deck could be seen through the gap -- and below that, a great deal of water in the hold...

...But if the blast burned a hole through the entire craft, to allow such flooding, why had the sea not taken her?

 

[Beckoncall]

General Deth Glitch Prince Vaethorion Heyitsjiwon

"Two Ancient Ways for a machine that slays..."

The blacksmith guild was a fine staging area for the development of siege weapons for the general defense of the colony, and more recently the specific task of coming up with a siege-engine that could puncture the carapace of "Mother-FIsher" -- with the flexable assembly of the Muurdain template. The dwarfs would still call their work shoddy but they knew how to make a ballista that could be mailed in a packing crate!

The sectional construction enabled more to be built with greater efficiency of speed and space than that of a purely elven or dwarven design -- dwarf machinery often sacrificed simplicity and reasonable size at every turn for performance -- and the elves elegance, though sad to see stripped away from the prototypes by the highborn, made sacrifices in quality for a product that could well be used.

At the end of the project, the colony had no fewer than FOUR ballistae now... Three smaller ones based primarily on a Muurdain/Dwarven template, and a final "magnus opus" which was the beastly machine they hoped would... well... slay the beast.

It was MASSIVE in it's wingspan compared to the bow-bands of it's smaller counterparts, but the combined genius of dwarven ingenuity and Attolian and elven experts put to the job had made it possible for the thing, while mobile, to fold it's arms back so the monster of a weapon could conceivably be moved through a tunnel or a cave...

...It could lock on an attolian-style crane-arm to fire with the bow held both vertically (for distance, like a bow) or horizontally (for power, like a crossbow) -- and the best feature about it... It could fire two projectiles at once, or if preferred have them fired in staggered succession, allowing one to be loaded while another was fired for a more steady delivery of death rather than a staggered onslaught of destruction.

The ammunition itself was a product of Highborn engineering -- Great bolts of Silver and bull iron, with the tips being made of specially reserved Mithril for it's armor-piercing qualities. these bolt-heads were skeletonized to make them lighter in flight, but also more importantly to house a payload of Mana Gems -- the first the highborn had been thus-far been able to mine, giving the bolts a secondary magical explosive discharge. The Mithril Tips were also gilded with runes of hate, grudge, breaking, and aim.

When the Firebeards looked at the final product, they laughed their asses off. To them, it looked ridiculous -- but even funnier was the damage potential it had on paper. They giggled like children at the ill-fortune of whatever would lie on the business end of this thing!

RESULT:

Colony now has three light mobile ballistas (positioning TBD by factions/government) -- they might want to at least return one to the Tyren! SpiralErrant

Colony now has "Beast-Feller Ballista" to be used in theater against Fisher-Mother and other large-scale threats.

 

[Beckoncall]

General Deth Glitch KamiKahzy Heyitsjiwon :

ARCHEOLOGISTS GUILD HAS THREE FACTIONS! ARCHEOLOGIST GUILD FORMS!

Ratkin include I.O.C. Archeologists and support staff, Attolians include Geologist, Firebeards include (light) miner support.

(+2 Influence Ratkin! +1 Influence Attolians) (firebeards will need to staff such projects better to gain influence, but may still reap benefits of the guild)

 

[Beckoncall]

Zaltusinel :

The searching of the Orchestrae Maximae :

All of the Nylor had left their place of pause in the highborn quarter and rallied at the Orchestra Building at the behest of their leader and her agents. Upon securing the surrounding block the Nylor took their residence within the sunken-domed structure and sealed the exits for security and to disabuse notions that they might be moved from their new home.

Of searching the Ancient structure, a few things of value were found...

1) A master Harpselith -- or "Great Piano" -- a giant affair with a full three tiers of keys some in ranges too high or low to be heard by humans and even a few beyond perhaps elves. This one was brilliantly organized with moving keyboards on hinged arms that moved to the swivel of the players waist and the shifting of weight of the player, or players... one grandmaster could play this marvel alone, but it could alternately be played by four masters... to make keyboard music to melt the heart... and mind.

2) In addition to the Harpselith, two great golden horns lay fitted into the orchestra pit -- they were obviously valuable in coin -- but their distinct notes and base make them a treasure all their own for their sound.

3) The box office, one it was forced to reveal it's secrets, showed that currency or tickets of the day were paid in cut EMERALDS. 2 units of Cut Emerald were found in numerous safes in and in a secure storage behind the box office.

4) 1 unit of wealth remained in the stands, rings, baubles, all manner of bits of finery either sloughed off of the longdead over the ages, or divested of them when they stampeded from the venue.

5) In addition to the wide stadium seating, there was a miniature fortress of secured areas behind the stage -- some were rooms for props and setpeices, others areas for the performers to work, practice and sleep -- along with areas for construction of production materials though all of these things, from tool to tailoring had been lost to time.

The rooms of the headliners were once opulent affairs with their own baths and sunken gardens that drew light from long-collapsed air and lightshafts... that perhaps at one time brought water as well. All of this around a central living area for the resident performers, complete with a great fountain and pool (completely broken) and other life supports. It seemed if the people in the Ochestrae Maximae were not killed outright in the apocalypse they might have survived for some time down here, or even waited out the catastrophe... but that evidently was not to be...

All the Nylor needed in supply, living and storage space -- plus a giant stadium that could seat 3 thousand. Perhaps the Nylor finally were at home... Perhaps.

 

[Beckoncall]

Enemy Standoo Heyitsjiwon Prince Vaethorion SpiralErrant Spacekitty Zaltusinel :

VITAL DECISION POINT: All groups from the Theater task force come to a stop in front of the Orchestrae Maximae -- the declared home of the Nylor -- It is HERE that Prince Vaethorion catches up with the groups and makes his speech (see post #602), and a general discussion and meeting of minds about claims can be made.

Task forces must RP the exchange or withdraw back to their homes as a declaration in the IC thread. If there is a dispute about claims and divisions as a product of the theater district action -- interested parties will take it up, and uninterested parties will withdraw.

OOC: Please do not declare additional actions without addressing this event as part of them. -Beck

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

Heyitsjiwon



The Highborn welcomed the expertise of Dr. Fleming to study the Cave Fishers that were captured. Such expertise would be crucial in discovering weaknesses in the Cave Fishers and defeating the Mother Cave Fisher. The Highborn Cleric said, "Dr. Fleming and myself have been working side by side at the Medical Guild for some time, and he is quite astute. We could never be sure that the Wererat plague was a plot of our foes the Dark Elves or not and he remedied it before the Colony fell to it. That will never be forgotten. We trust his him as a man of ethics and is knowledgeable despite not being Highborn. My knowledge is in faith and healing, and whereas my training forced me to learn the arts of medicine to heal Highborn, I myself am not a scientist. However, I would love to learn more from Dr. Fleming and the biologists, other Scientist in the Colony."

Order: Allow Dr. Fleming to examine Cave Fishers to find weaknesses and learn about them. Find a place suitable to bring it to be examined (see below post).


The Wise Highborn Cleric, despite being a person of Faith who banished undead, buffed the Highborn and healed the sick despite his false modesty loved science and knew a bit about Science in his study of healing. "We have a center for magic, we have a center for healing, but we need a center for Science, experimentation, and learning!"

The Highborn Cleric suggests two Laboratories to be built one large one at the Learning Square and one smaller one in the theater district. the Prince gives him permission to use 2 Wealth for it's construction for materials and hiring exiles, thralls and whatever labor is available, but requests aid from other factions. This Laboratory can be used as a Science Guild. The Highborn also Volunteer a Skilled Highborn who has the most Scientific training to work at the main one and learn from the other more skilled and knowledgeable Scientist in the colony.

Heyitsjiwon Spacekitty Enemy Standoo SpiralErrant KamiKahzy General Deth Glitch general ostruppen Beckoncall

Order: The Highborn use 1 wealth to build a laboratory and form a Science Guild and build two laboratories in safe locations (safe as in case it explodes from Mad scientist). Labor must be outsourced and other Factions are invited to participate. The Cave Fishers should be examined in a tent or unused structure for now, but a proper Laboratory for experiments need to be established. For now a general lab can be built. The Highborn already had an Apothecary in their quarter, and could donate some chemicals and elixirs to be used.


The Linguist, a philosopher and student of life's mysteries, he was the most academic of all of the Highborn present and a dear friend of the Cleric. The Linguist stated "Yes, Why stop at a Laboratory? Why NOT a University! A center for learning, for research for studying and high knowledge. A place the youth of the Colony can go to learn. The learning Center is the seed for a proper university! To be done right, it must be as grand and majestic as the Seat of power!"

The Spy Master's Apprentice who was lurking about said "Yes, the Prince had discussed this previously with Caelis and the Attolians are following through with the idea."

Order: the Highborn Join the Attolians in building the University as had previously been discussed.

((ooc: this idea was discussed with Heyitsjiwon and just saw he also posted about it))


After the initial experiments, the various poisons would need to be experimented with, but it was suggested to do so at smaller doses in order not to kill the Cave Fishers, but to create a way to paralyze them or slow them down.

@bobisdead KamiKahzy

The expertise of poisons was welcome from the Fennec and Ratkin and handed over to Doctor Flemming to help experiment (note: discretely some of the poisons are to be preserved for purposes of forensics)

The Highborn were extremely grateful to receive the assistant of the Amaryans and made sure to reward them with ample G-d Rot.

General Deth Glitch

The Highborn were very pleased by the response of Grimdr. The Highborn despite their haughtiness had learned how to be diplomatic over the many years and more importantly knew the value of good allies and loyalty. The Highborn saw no objection in the Firebrand Dwarves joining the Government, and would make this known to the rest of the Colony. The Prince was pleased to have this working alliance with the Dwarfs and to be crafting materials of superiority with them. Privately, the Prince despised the Muurdan with all his heart and anyone who felt this way and was willing to spill blood over it, was his Brother at arms.

The Prince declared " We both know how to defeat foul creatures and with our combined arms and knowledge, we will send this Cave Fisher Bitch to the depths of hell!"

SpiralErrant Enemy Standoo Heyitsjiwon
Order: The Prince puts in his approval for the Firebrand Dwarves to join colony.

Beckoncall Heyitsjiwon Spacekitty

The Prince approves of the wealth going to the Amaryans by way of the Colonial Government to pay for their food (those fishing for it).

In regards to the Ship. Beckoncall Heyitsjiwon

The Highborn Elite Swordmaster asks "Shall we board, odd it's being kept a float?. The Highborn use their magical instincts to detect any magical signature on the vessel and prepare a boarding party to board ship.

Order: Use magical senses to sense ship and prepare boarding party of five Highborn.


Enemy Standoo

The Highborn Cleric at the Fountain said "You will not find a purer blade to banish evil with, not now or ever".

general ostruppen

"Gnome" whose Nickname named by others, and not a name she had chosen for herself, as is often the Highborn custom. Was pleased by the Attention the Gnomes gave her and the Dwarves. She was excited at the prospect of making Constructs and devices.

She replied "The pleasure is all mine Lord Kulger!, Welcome to the Colony. Let us know how we can assist in your people settling in. The Prince would be happy to make your acquaintance as would the other leaders of the Colony." She then gave what she felt was the appropriate response to the puppies, but as they were not mechanical, they did not interest her much. T"he Puppies seem to be of a good natural design". she said.

SpiralErrant General Deth Glitch Heyitsjiwon
Beckoncall

The Ballistas were a thing of beauty and death. One was returned to the Tyren. The others would be used against the Mudelves and whatever foe. For Port defense for now. The largest the one to slay the Beast-feller Balista would be put into position to slay the Giant Cave Fisher Mother.

More would be ordered for the future.

General Deth Glitch

A request is put into help make cannons for offensive capabilities and defending the Colony. (this might have already been responded to)

((I was going to post about the Theater district but we can address this jointly later today but now I must sleep))

 

[Beckoncall]

Spacekitty :

Finecians gain access to Honey as a resource -- between the troll's constitution and the expertise of the Capos, a handful of hives are smoked out and relocated to the muddy wood where they can more readily be utilized, and river flowers are migrated with them to assist in their finding nectar.

Finecians are now steadily producing Amber Jewelry, which can be sold at market and made part of the luxuries guild along with other commodities.

Large vats of Alcohol in the high tier excavation are coming into fruition, further increasing supply to grow in line with rising demand for their brews.
Current Market wealth = 8

IMPORTANT: Finecians need to designate workers/experts to guilds to become members! (After which, they can levy the market for wealth)

______________________________________________________

Hired Aymarans are on hold with Fennec forces, ready when the attack on the fisher is organized.
(1 Troll, 3 Capo, 4 thugs, 5 Skilled Workers, 6 skilled thugs, 1 scarred aymaran, 10 brutes)

_________________________________________________________

Domestication of Runner herd continues slowly -- Alphas have become less aggressive, but far from steeds thus far.

____________________________________________________________

Fennec Beautification of Capitol building and "Blooming Lamb" -- especially with Amber, has positive effects on populace.

+1 influence FENNEC!

______________________________________________________________

Salvator and the thugs are delivered to Colonial constables for judgement Prince Vaethorion Enemy Standoo Heyitsjiwon -- they should receive due process in a timely fashion or be released on their own recognizance.

 

[SpiralErrant]

Beckoncall
A mighty cheer went up from all those living souls foolhardy enough to enter the theatre lands! Tyren lifted their heads to the ghost ridden sky and brayed for the winds to hear, while down below the gallow minded mercenaries of the rich laughed their bitter tunes. Not a single one had been lost or even wounded, Orm would have clipped his hooves with joy if he'd seen that. For now it'd fall to Bruul to lead the cheers and be the smuggest bull in the crowd. With that holy power locked away into his fists to add to the smug warm feeling in his chest.The others might grumble about not getting to show off all the training they'd done or let loose with a good charge but those young steers could shove it! To Bruul, looking out over all the sparkling leavings of the dead littered on the ground, this was the easiest win a warrior and a mercenary could ask for!

"Not a bad day's business, wouldn't you say, Shul?" He got his answer as the young shaman slumped to the ground in a sweaty and mumbling mess. "Oooohoho! Easy there little one! Oh you had a big day didn't you?" The grizzled bull chuckled as he scooped up the sloppy form of his subordinate. "You lads get him home now, sleep all this death off. I'll see to the rest here." And with that the war shaman handed Shul off to the waiting arms of his brother warriors as they started on the long walk back to Hrun'Taras.

The humans for their part stayed behind. They were promised a share of the spoils from marches like this and the caravan had made its promises to see them slowly repaid for the loss they'd suffered from the dead slavers. None in the hills would mourn that loss but these richer lads had been solid hands and Bruul had a veterans respect pension soldiers. So many sellswords carried the reputation of cravens and vultures with them or worked to shake it off, really just bringing some shame to a fine and noble profession. But not pensioners. Not the brave boys who carried such tags. Fighters like that walked free and light with the knowledge that they fought for something more solid than honour or vague politics. Men left no ghosts but those they made, for they died knowing their affairs were all in order. So as a former brother of the coin Bruul could stand to help his chief see them covered. And though it was a distant dream - a mad dream maybe - but if the hills could give their fortune then just be they might manage to get a contract of partnership in the company.

But Bruul was getting ahead of himself. For now he was happy to pull the rolled up band of leaves from his robe and with the last of his candlelight he snapped his fingers to make flame and light that cigar with a grin. Pure darkleaf... with a little something extra from the shaman's stores, he deserved a treat after all.

What was less of a treat was when these little shadow folk sprang up. Smell alone gave them away as elves of another breed. Bruul couldn't help but think that for how much elves went on about being so rare and few in number they sure had a habit of springing up like daisies. What's more was these ones seemed even madder than the rest. The weewoods were an emotional lot and the silvers only knew how to be cold or wrathful... while these shadows laughed and giggled like yearlings while standing knee deep in bones. Just seemed in poor taste if Bruul was any judge.

Tensions were getting up there as Bruul managed to gather that these new elves were making claims of the land and treasures... and the humans weren't taking too kindly to it. So of course Vaethorian had to appear with an army at his back, the only way he knew how to travel, and things got to a whole new sort of tense. "Easy now... we'll just get what we're owed and head back to the hills to drink the day off." Bruul said to the rich at his side. None of them looked in the mood to shed blood over this but a fight of another sort looked to be brewing.

The company went on their walk until they got to one of the ever dead buildings of stories that would never get told again. The only thing being talked of today was what the living wanted from these ruins. And though it might have been in bad taste also, Bruul had no issue in talking of it to the other speakers as they gathered. "Just our share of the jewels and coin for helping. Lands and ruins this far from the hills are of little help to Tyren hands." He nodded calmly, and that was what he had the mercenaries repeat if they were asked. "Hmm... maybe a small building if it's going. Like for a shop or somethin' if it's free." He shrugged.

For now it looked like the tyren would be called on to stop folk from headbutting each other too hard if their tempers came to fraying. Though there was something that stuck in his craw, this little talk of all these undead being kin to the shadows that claimed the place. It was a twisted soul that could laugh and dance in the graves of their dead as Bruul saw it. And as for their claims of helping... well he'd seen the horde that ran straight for them with madness in their empty eyes, readied a punch for them and all. If that was what this lot called aid then he'd hate to see them hinder. No something sat poorly about that. That was when he remembered the nights that followed when they first crossed the river, he remembered what the wood elf warriors said when they looked on their muddy kin and what he learned of elven sight.

Prince Vaethorion
So Bruul lagged behind for a while, all the way at the back of this mighty convoy of war and went to the little silver elves. Stopping one in its tracks he stood before the little elf spear and leaned over him like in a hug or a beast at a meal. And in his deep voice a rumbling whisper he said into the elf's pointy ear.

"Elves tell me their sight was finest in the land. That if you lot see a skull you can tell if its human, or elf, or something close like any other would need ears and flesh on it to tell. Reckon you lads could tell if the dead in these streets are actually kin to those ahead or not?" Answer would show one of two things. Either these new elves were liars or mad folk. Both important things to tell in Bruul's eyes.

**********​

Glorious gold! Trees and palisades of gold that glittered under the light. The darkest shadows they could cast were those of the iron that strengthened their bones.

Orm had come out running when he'd heard the commotion putting these things up had caused. He'd taken the mad attempt at singing by his herdsmen to be cries of fear and pain. It wasn't as if his eyes could believe what they were seeing at the time. But he spoke to each of them in the time to follow and found he couldn't shut them up about it! They each told tales of how their horns had quivered, how they felt the energy stir in and around them. Tyren with not magic or training of their own had joined the song of elves and the forest. They and Ummush each had talked of the spirits they heard... nature's warden and wild growth and heard their song and spoken back.

Auroch stood tall and proud. Auroch was the guardian of the fields and all those that lived in them. To Orm it looked as if Auroch was fast becoming a warden of the forest now as well.

'What would you think of this, Belanor? Would your people sing of this if they heard, would they weep for joy like your young have?' Orm pondered to himself. They made fun of the springborn for their emotional ways, how quickly they put their emotions out on display for all to see like children first learning of such things. But the intensity of what they brought out... damn if it wasn't contagious. Orm would have been lying if he said he didn't feel a tingle about his eyes when he saw them about those walls and the sleeping ent. But he wasn't a young bull anymore and colder roads had torn his easier tears from him.

His easier smiles as well it seemed. When even Ummush who loomed like a silent heap of death wherever he went now hobbled along with a jolly tune and irrepressible smile. He was pleased for his shaman father, the old lad had more than earned this boon beyond Orm's understanding. It lifted spirits around town for folk to see their oldest guide given a new spring in his step. But next to him it made Orm's look of gloom even easier to see. Like a dark night's shadow he walked through these trees. The shadow of his rage pressed hard at his back, and now he wandered like a shadow at the back of his caravan. All around him folk walked busy around the town and far beyond it, enjoying the fruits of this new way of life... yet Orm found only fleeting pride in it these days.

Spacekitty
Springborn sauntered through the Blooming Lamb, tending to flowers and vines that wrapped themselves around amber. High on the victory of the golden trees the little elves carried on with jaunty tunes and playful choruses as they tempted the flowers that bloomed with the happiness of your heart to spread their buds and conjured up petals of dazzling colours.

Bellowing songs of wild lands and the hard worked sweat on the nomad's brow echoed through the fennec mines probably annoyed their larger ears to no end. The little foxes had made a piss poor first impression on the tyren and a dark on to Orm on that slave ridden beach... but they'd knelt to the whole in the end. Justice was a practical thing among the caravans and however irratable he may have been about it Orm couldn't blame all of their folk for the poor scheming of this mad sick chief of theirs. They were taking steps to redeem themselves and Hrun'Taras wouldn't deny them the chance to prove themselves after all. Some of their lads went down to the muddy lake to add their strength and to sniff out what they could from the amber and fish folk had become so eager for.

Oh and the party didn't stop there! More of the young elves were coming to the mighty walls of the government hall. They were intent on making their own mark on the thing, beyond what natural touches they'd already made. The silver elves had made plenty of talk of giving the thing a grand garden and the springborn weren't ones to be outdone when it came to gardening. Stranger still was the sight of some of the craft bulls trailing at their heels, shoveling earth and shouting at shrubs to bloom to life. It seemed some of them were still drunk on the power they'd tasted and were determined to make themselves real treesingers. Treeshouters might have been the better choice of word. The fennec they were helping would just have to roll their eyes and plug their ears. They named it a fancy word that Orm couldn't say but apparently it made the whole thing sound more respectable than just calling it what it was.

[5 Springborn join the fennec jewelers in renovating the Blooming Lamb.
2 Skilled Tyren, 5 unskilled go to help the fennec in catching fish and mining amber for a stint.
2 Skilled craft-bull tyren, 10 Springborn start work on the botanical garden for the colony government building.]

Heyitsjiwon KamiKahzy
It was a better job than the one taken up by the foolish bulls willing to take up digging latrines. The Attolian doctor and a bunch of sallow city boys wandered into town one day and kicked up a fuss from the herdsmen when they started trying to dig up the grazing lands as calmly as they pleased. Hardly a polite way to treat someone's place of house and work! It was only once they'd stopped to explain themselves that one of the minotaurs decided to let go of the nearest workers shirt scruff and let him fall to the ground. Relieving yourself was a fairly easy thing to do in these wilder parts but these tyren were a houseproud bunch and were still looking to learn how to improve their fair town further. They'd already learned some from the Victorians and with the sudden boom in numbers from the hillfolk it seemed wise to try and stop the ground from turning into a wallow. Besides, their spades were bigger, no one would turn that offer of aid down.

A similar request had been sent to the ratkin a while ago. Orm had no idea why they'd gone into hiding and disapeared the way they had but the small claws were back now and seemed eager to see others again. As things stood Bauren - the self made grocer of the caravan - had squeezed himself into their caves and into his bizzare choice of apron and hat to help their elder with his food experiment as part of a hopeful trade. Cheese for dirt! Knowledge was a happily traded thing and the caravan was hoping for a well to compliment the pool and new toilets. And who better to show them how to mine it than the rats?

[1 Skilled Tyren, 5 unskilled join the Attolian latrine/sewer digging project.
The tyren grocer (skilled worker) joins the ratkin in making a new cheese.
Tyren request aid in digging a new well and cleaner latrines from the ratkin.]

General Deth Glitch
And others still were coming together with the knowledgeable folk of the colony. Shul was spending so much time at the learners square he'd become the unofficial speaker for the hills, beside a caravan elder and one of the more mature springborn. It seemed right that they go with him. Orm and the others had promised that they would be protected and their culture be spoken for. All of them had changed so much in this new world but there would always be those beginnings, those pieces of their history should not be forgotten even if they spoke of each other as one group. It was for that same reason one of the hillfolk was invited to join them and make it a trio. There may have been many humans in the colony these days but these few were the only ones who came to it to be solved as slaves. They may have still been on their probation but if this big chunk of the population was to be made a part of the colony then that would be their assurance that they would not be made slaves again. Hrun'Taras might only have one vote but it would have three voices. And one of the first things those voices would do was officially welcome these firebeard dwarves into the fold. Apparently the craft wagons were itching to see what their smithing could do in combination with the dwarven smiths.

Even Ummush was spending time there now! His new lease on life had brought the old shaman out of his shell and although speech was still something he left to others he had enough words left in him to tell Orm of his desires. As the keeper of their history known and lost it took it on himself to lead the unraveling of these lost minotaurs, the Paan'i. And then he was gone, off to the square for a day or more. It wasn't the place of the first ring to ask permission.

While closer to home three races were putting their heads together to see if they could fathom how to make mustard lizards act like horses and dogs! One of the herd elders was certain that if they could seperate the smaller ones from their alpha long enough then they'd adapt, forming that same bond with a new partner. A herd always had its followers, they just needed someone to take charge of the matter firmly enough. Another was certain that these lizards were too old to be trained, too set in their ways. What they needed was to wait for a new litter to be born. If they could separate a pup from the alphas they could have it imprint, treat the young mind like a fresh canvas to be trained or however that saying went. Anuc the healer could just keep her head down as she mixed her brews for the wounded females. When they got at it the shepherd elders were more stubborn and prideful than the most ancient of mountain spirits.

[Tyren give their support to the Firebeards joining the colony government.
Ummush (1 shaman) joins the archaeologist guild!
2 elders, Anuc the healer (3 skilled tyren), 5 unskilled tyren set to the continued taming of the runner lizards.]

All these things were bright and productive. All of them gave those that set to their tasks something they could be proud of at the end of the day. Something they could talk to others about, a story of their own to tell. And all these things were tasks that Orm couldn't be trusted with. There was no question about it, Orm was in a rut and not the good kind. He needed to do osmething! He needed to relax, to enjoy the moment and the fruits of his labor. The looming threat of the cull and all these fallen gods was weighing heavily on his mind as they searched for more ways to fight or confound the thing. But wasn't that just more reason to enjoy the moment? If these days were to be his last then he wanted to look back on them fondly.

Maybe Ummush was right. Maybe he needed to open up more...

Anuc was spending more time around the town these days. Talkin' all smart and flutterin' those eyelashes of hers...

That was it! You only lived once! Orm slammed a clenched fist into his palm and stamped his hoof in resolve! He'd call on her, ask her to walk with him for a time and if she wanted then he'd call on her again. He was chief, he was strong, if he could just talk to her proper like then he could make himself look like a real catch! They could stop by the 'Lamb and catch a show from that elf bard and maybe see if-

["What the shitting hell is that!"] Orm Brayed out in shock! One of the three giant trees was GONE and in its place was some giant spike of burning black! All crowned by some dark sphere of what Orm imagined was magic and EVIL!

Romance and rutting would have to wait. Orm set off from the edge of the gold walls in a mad rush. His first stop was by Ummush's longhouse. The shaman had already seen it, his jolly expression gone and replaced with a look of stern intensity. ["We need the iron pages. I don't know what that thing is going to do but it can't be good."] Ummush silently nodded at the command. They would need to know all they could if they were to move against it. For all they knew the cull was about to begin.

On his next frantic stop Orm burst in on Anais' flooded home. "Hello there! Sorry to bother you again, I know we've been asking a lot of you recently but have you seen this?!" He rambled on as he splashed across her pool and threw open one of the shutters to offer a view of the black spire and burning sphere. "Do you know what that is? Is that the cull, is it starting? I thought we had until winter?!"

[Lore check: Ummush consults the iron pages. Orm consults Anais. What is happening to the cull tree and how do you fight it?]

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

The Theater District Beckoncall

The Attolian standpoint in regards to the Theater District is simple. All should partake in discussion about the future of the Theater and the splitting of the spoils of war. If the Nylor refuse, the Nylor are effectively disrespecting the effort and labor that this expedition has put into cleansing the District. We have risked our lives and some have paid the ultimate price to clear this district and for the Nylor to do something like this... it is insulting. They may have contributed, if it can be called that, but ultimately it was the members of the expedition and our blood and sweat that put the Long Dead to rest. The curse that the Nylor got rid of may have been complex, but if they think that we are not capable of dealing with curses either then they truly do look down upon us all. Regardless, it was that curse that kept them chained inside. The breaking of the curse released the Long Dead into the district where thankfully the expedition was ready.

However, this was not done in coordination with the Colony or the expedition. Thus, it is not unreasonable to think what would have happened if the expedition was not there or were not ready and the Nylor broke the curse? Thousands of the Long Dead would be free to roam and gods know what kind of havoc they would have caused as they are no longer bound to the district. The Nylor may not have meant harm, but their actions could have led to many dying tonight. Thus, for them to ignore the colony in terms of taking their own initiative to break the curse and the fact that they simply claim territory and spoils without discussion? At its extreme, such actions send a message: they do not care and would release a horde of long dead upon the Colony if it meant furthering their own goals. Thus, if the Nylor wish to clear any misunderstandings, then they will come to the table and discuss any claims like all of the factions involved in this expedition as equals.

As per Attolian desires of the Districts, the Attolians seek an equal share in loot, and some land to continue developing into more housing and other industry as the Attolian and Highborn have planned. In addition, the Attolians seek to recover the bodies of their three fallen halberdiers. However, the Attolians are also interested in developing a joint area for the entire colony to have access to that is under the jurisdiction of the Colonial Government as a whole. Thus, the Tyren can have space for stores, along with all members of the Colony. Another city beyond the Colonial Capital is the ultimately goal that the Attolians would like to see. Perhaps, a commercial city of the Colony? Thus, the Nylor are free to settle in the theater if they desire, but all the Attolians ask is that it is done so in a manner that considers others. The Attolians do not have a particular interest in the Orchestrae other than it being available to all in order to enjoy its magnificence, but the Attolians do have an interest in fair distribution.

---

Prince Vaethorion

The Attolians will support the boarding if the Highborn go ahead with it. Particularly, Lothar will join the boarding as the crew are important to make sure that the sloop reaches the Capital safely.

---

General Deth Glitch

The Attolians are concerned about the diplomatic implications of allowing the Firebeard to officially join the government. What the Attolians know of the situation is that the Firebeards are enemies of the Muurdaan and are at war against the Muurdaan. If the Firebeards are allowed to join the Colonial Government, then it sends a clear message. That the Colonial Government has taken an officially, hostile position against the Muurdaan. This, the Attolians fear, will lead to the Muurdaan sending their fleets and forcefully subjugating this fledgling Colony. While the Attolians have no problems with the Firebeards, and are appreciative of their interactions with the Colony... implications of allowing them to join the Government are far-reaching and currently harmful for the young Colony whose existence depends on the goodwill of the Muurdaan. Perhaps, the situation will change in the future as the Colony grows stronger and more capable of standing against outside influences, but as of now, the Attolians can not give its support. Thus, as of now, the Attolians abstain their vote on the matter.

---

KamiKahzy

The Attolians give their support and approval for the Blue Paw Clan to join the Colonial Government. The Ratkin have proven to be friend to all factions and are a hardworking people. From saving the survivors of the IOC, to participating in various collaborations for the betterment of the Colony, there is little reason to not approve the Blue Paw Clan and their request to join the Colonial Government.

 

[general ostruppen]

Kulger and the others gave the elf a sort of confused look when she replied about the puppies. One dwarf in the background leaned to another dwarf and whispered "Weirdo". However they now understood that Gnome was indeed a very friendly representative that reflected her faction. Polip jotted down some information onto his parchment and quickly put it into his pack. Kulger chuckled a bit and then cleared his throat.

Kulger: Yes they are indeed aaaaa.....Good natural design, but anyways we do require some assistants with a guide that knows much of the landscapes beyond this colony. We have a cartographer but of course he can only rely on whats been given around in town, but having experienced folks guiding us and educating our cartographer would be beneficial. If that of course isn't too much to ask from your leader?

Polip quickly draws Kulgers attention and whispers in his ears. Kulger eye's raised a bit and he nodded to Polips reply. He receives a parchment and quill, thus writing down a small list for Polip to accomplish. Polip bows and heads off to the market along with the twin crafters.

Beckoncall Prince Vaethorion

Result: Polip has been sent to the market along with Furkin and Darking. They are to gather supplies to build a cart, and food. They will also greet the crew that they saved and ask the captain if he is willing to buy a herd worth of goats/sheeps. If so we will be willing to pay.

 

[Enemy Standoo]

This day should have represented a great victory for the chapter and indeed much pride and praise was felt and given by the devout as they stood victorious among the remains of the districts skeletal remains. The plan had gone off with nary a hitch and once again the light of Victoria and her divine will had shown itself to the denizens of this land both living and dead. With this show of force and power the chapter of the distant tower had claimed its first great victory and planted their spiritual flag on these lands. Yet no sooner had they come to the largest structure that had stood the test of time within the theatre district's limits were they met with more complications. Elein could have cursed most viciously in those moments for what wretched force refused to let things go simply for their order in this cursed realm.

The dark skinned elves she had heard tale of had emerged, skulking from the shadows of these ruins as they had the tombs they haunted on the beach. There was little reason in the old world to trust any kind of elf, and these ones stank of fell magics and dark intentions. The pragmatic side of Elien's thoughts, the mindset that should rule a chapter master, knew it a wise idea to make merry with such things. Much like the Aboleth they were living testaments to history and each would be worth their weight in gold to the chapter's historians and libraries. Yet she was a knight and crusader before she was a master and had seen infernal creatures take on images of temptation too many times to trust so easily. If these knaves were truly able to survive the destruction that had razed this continent to its current state then no doubt they were powerful and dangerous beings, perhaps even acolytes of the mage kings themselves. Perhaps they were even the ones that unleashed the horrors the colonists were now forced to face. Now they sought to saunter in after the living had worked to clear up their mess and claim it as their own. Such insolence would not stand and each member of the chapter was swift to voice their displeasure at such an outcome.

It was then, while the high elf warlord exasperatedly tried to offer translation that this dark coven enacted their unholy writ of blood magic! The devout raised their shields and called upon all the saints to safeguard their souls as the chapter closed ranks to defend themselves from this onslaught! Elien held her sword at the ready and Father Ghol readied his hands and worked his lips in the the ancient words of prayer and the divine rights of light's triumph over darkness. The spell passed harmlessly all while the weather whipped and stormed in an unnatural flurry.

The expedition was left to gather themselves but Elien would not rest, evil was at constant work in this place and would no doubt pounce if they were to let their guard down. Swift as could be she set to issuing orders to the devout and her faithful knights. Patrols were to set out and scour the district for any undead that could have been missed and to aid in detailed mapping of the area now the threat had diminished. Sir Bruford would ride back to the lighthouse to muster reinforcements of a less militaristic nature. Before any division of spoils could be spoken of it would need to be cataloged.

Within their immediate needs she differed to Father Ghol. "I will not risk these echoes of the mage kings returning to surprise us with their dark ploys. Father Ghol, is there a way you know of to track their movements so we might know where they have sought to hide themselves?"
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
High above in the lighthouse the holy pyre was still blazing in merry warmth as the gathered monks cheered for the success of their chapter's stratagem. They had gotten the best view of the shockwave's blast as it scoured the streets theatre district of its unholy taint. If any of these monks were to ever have children this would be a story they would be telling them for years to come. Given their celibacy however, they would have to settle for regaling the future squires and novices, a far more spiritually rewarding experience no doubt.

One of these novices, one lucky enough to witness this divine purge was the first to spot what the wave had done when it spread in the opposite direction. With hands already sweaty from the heat of the fire he tapped on the shoulder of his superior and drew their attention to the black obelisk and the sphere that sat at its peak like some evil parody of their blessed lighthouse. The jubilations of the lighthouse swiftly fell silent upon seeing it. It was all the monks could do not to trip on the hems of their cassocks as they hurried down the spiraling stairs of the tower to reach the nearest Canonate. Luckily the archivist had not yet left to join the studies of the archeological society. It was not in the habit of the order to wantonly share knowledge but they could not afford to risk losing access to what would be found by other agents the colony might send.

The archivist was informed and quickly took up his post at the telescope to further examine the anomaly. Word was sent to the chapter master of course, as the remaining mare in the stable was saddled and a knight was sent out to warn the chapter's forces and the other gathered commanders still in the theatre district.

At the port:
"A fair deal, we'll take it." Sir Magda said. The chapter was confident that Tarkus and the monks would find even further treasures in the city ruins, this smaller boost would help fund the chapter's future holdings indeed.

Action Summary:
The devout and a contingent of other forces are sent to scout out the theatre district in greater detail. Cataloging material wealth and historical artifacts.
(20 Devout. 15 Squires. 10 Monks.)

Onri Ghol is asked if he knows of a way to track the Nylor's magical trail.
(1 Canonate - minor cleric/mage)

The archivist and his team search for any clues as to the nature of the black sphere/spire that has replaced the cull tree.
(1 canonate - archivist. 5 monks.)

The Victorians join the archaeologist guild!
(1 canonate/ V. Skilled scholar - archivist. 5 monks.)

Sir Magda accepts the offer of three wealth from the dwarf traders.

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

((this post will be a response to the Nylor moving on the Amphitheater, a response to there departure will come later))

The Highborn who came to the Theater district to do battle against the Longdead side by side with their fellow colonist and arrived to late to join the battle looked at the Nylor strangely. Are they the "missing link"? They though to themselves. "A primitive offshoot of Sylvan Elves" one Highborn commented. "What peculiar and dramatic Elves!" one Swordmaster said to the other. The Prince gave them a signal that meant they are to be quiet and at attention. The Highborn immediately fell into perfect formation.

The Highborn were on their guard as the posture of the other Colonist towards the Nylor was not friendly and there was tension in the air.
It was not so subtle by their body language that the Nylor had low opinion of the Highborn and the other colonist.

The Prince agreed with the Attolians.

Beckoncall
The Highborn are begin exploring and are interested in claiming one of the lesser Amphitheaters for the Highborn to write and put on High Elven plays which are world famous.

Views and Order:

After Nylor dilemma is decided. The Highborn will begin investigating the Ruins. The larger one the Highborn suggest (if the Nylor desire for it is no longer an issue, the Highborn were willing to permit their occupying it if they were willing to discuss it and the Attolians, other colonist agreed to it) can be dedicated to ALL of the Colonist and become a center for general assemblies, special occasions and large performances.

The Highborn and Attolians would like to claim the land in the adjacent quadrant next to their respective quarters to expand in conjunction from the Platz. This will be coordinated with the Attolians roughly the quadrant adjacent Highborn quarter to be side by with the Attolians and extend our defenses network there. This would allow for the Highborn and Attolians have natural expansion and settle new Highborn and Attolians arrivals and for Highborn to be further away from the tainted and evil fountain. (The Highborn still have reservations in being in the vicinity of the blood fountain and want to be away from its influence and/or see it vanquished).

The Highborn would like to see the rest of the theater and Agora district be restored to its original purpose and shared and placed under the Authority of the Colonial Government. A place for the Colony and all factions to enjoy. A place for entertainment, cafes, poetry, art galleries, museums, and for exchanging ideas. The Highborn agree that the Agora the (areas that Attolians do not claim to use for their expansion) should be made into a commercial district for the various factions to open up stores. The Capital , the "New City" will always be official and a center for the Colony and the "Old city" will be a historical city and as it is reclaimed will become larger. The Theater district and the Agora district are the beginnings of reclaiming the once great city. There is much more to explore. Originally, the Highborn wanted to settle in the Intact Ruins, and once the Long Dead were released it became too dangerous.

Zaltusinel
As for the Nylor, the Linguist bids them farewell and apologizes for not understanding them better.
"Goodbye strange cousins. We meant you no ill will. We hope you do not misunderstand our ways but one day we shall see if we can reconcile you with the rest of the Elven people."

SpiralErrant

"Yes, some of these strange Elves once lived here among others. Some of these dead were once their kin, but they do not wish to negotiate. They think their way, and only their way is the right way. This is one reason why the Elves do not rule as they once did. Now they move on, because they do not understand the ways of the modern world. Perhaps when they recover their memories they will understand us better and remember that compromise is key to succeeding with others different from oneself."

The Highborn will sanctify the theater district using High Magic and cleanse any remaining impurities.

Orders:
The Highborn are very appreciative of the sacrifices made by the Fallen colonist and ask their Artisans to make an memorial monument to honor them. Devoting 1 Skilled Highborn artisan.

The Highborn assist the Attolians in recovering their fallen Halberdiers.


The Highborn Cleric begins using High Magic to sanctify the Newly expanded district and cleansing it of impurity.

The Highborn Arch mage first casts a ward of protection over the Highborn cleric and himself in preparation to then summon an Angel drawing some mana energy from the mana deposit. The Prince and ten of the more magically gifted Highborn help with this by chanting and focusing their energies.

The Highborn suggest that All Factions should make their mark on the "Old City" and are invited to help excavate the "Old City". Shops should open, traders and artisans should craft and sell their wares, cafes, restaurants, pubs, museums, art galleries, theaters big and small, musical venues should one day fill the streets. .

The Highborn make no claims from items fallen from the bodies of banished Longdead as they missed the conflict, but would like to share items in the district that are found.

The Highborn begin to excavate Ruins and look for items and treasure (10 Archers and 10 Spearman)

. It should be decided whether if joint excavations should lead to pooled items, and resources, or a free for all. The Highborn suggest that an orderly coordinated excavation, recovery restoration process should be done jointly as it will be more organized, efficient and stave off any tensions.

The Highborn feel the items in the Large theater should remain at the Large theater and the wealth there dedicated to restoring it.

KamiKahzy

The Highborn Approve of their joining the Colony once after the the Theater district negotiations and dealings with the Nylor are finished.

general ostruppen

The Highborn Artificer is happy to show the Dwarves around.

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon Prince Vaethorion :

"Boarding party, Derelict Hosts"

The five swordsmasters leaped from railing to railing well before the ships got together... Lothar, armored as he was, came aboard a bit after by way of a boarding bridge. As before, but closer -- everyone aboard on 1st and 2nd decks was charred to a crisp. After the boarding party descended to the 2nd level (with the cargo hold below) it was then seen that the cargo hold was flooded, and even the 2nd deck was in over four feet of water... it seemed that the hatches on the lowest deck blown open was bailing water equal to whatever was leaking in from the base... it was perpetually sinking.

It was a colony ship alright -- the familiar supplies and construction bundles, even the odd muurdain shipping labels -- moist and tattered as they were, it was all familiar. Few evidence of bodies like on the top deck could be found below -- the charred folk likely dissolved in the water around them.

When Lothar and the highborn came to the middle of the second deck, they could see the blast hole above them to topside, as well as below to the cargo hold Where more supply and construction crates floated, and an elf activated a low-power light spell and dropped this ball of light into the hold -- where could be seen a type of field of some kind -- blue and crackling, covering the majority of the hole that had punched thruogh the ship. The source of the field was a wand, hanging firmly in the dead hand of a drowned magic user of some kind -- not even their race could be determined, so bloated and repulsive was this body... apparently his last action was to use this "wand of fields" to close the breach and slow or seemingly stop the sinking of the ship, but he eventually succumbed to hunger, thirst, and the elements. The cargo hold seemed a complete loss, but the wand and the robe of the mage certaintly seemed valuable... beyond that the 2nd deck was a crumbling mess. They could search an area or two before their movement compromised the structural integrity further -- but the highborn's senses were beginning to twitch. They'd be leaving soon one way or another -- but if they had any quick ideas they could conduct their search and still get topside before perhaps the ship began to sink again, this time in earnest...

...What would they do?

 

[Beckoncall]

General Deth Glitch :

Come first spring, the Windmags would all have a number of broods due to the familiarity and husbandry the Dwarves had with these subterranian creatures. Since their rate of growth had a lot to do with how much they were fed, proper planning (they eat rotting meat) would mean the new year would have a strong showing in usable new steeds -- maybe breeding them could become profitable!

Firebeards also brought a great real of ground-wrought, perfectly solid practically LIVING stone to the theater district, the windmags making moving the great loads much more manageable. While some factions would assert the ruins were full of stone enough, this was not to the dwarven standard... huge grey cubes of quarried rock from where they built their staircase were taken to a site in the theater district for when a project to develop the theater district might come about...

As for the statue, evil before leaders heard tell about it there was much excitement regarding a "Dwarven monument" among the populace. How many dwarves were making the statue?! how large would it be and would it be in the theater district? the capitol building? the learners square?! so many questions!!! It was obviously clear that if there WASN'T some statue, many people in the colony would be sad... the idea of one of each of the races at a table was relished... especially, strangely enough, when the idea seemed to come to the crude understanding of the kobolds.

"Of labs and SCIENCE!"

Prince Vaethorion Heyitsjiwon

So far, it was the Attolians hands down that had the finest lab -- they'd needed to. From the handling of the wererat plague to the study, repair, and creation of constructs... Nicholas and Dr. Fleming had mazes of snaking tubes and a variety of ad-hoc laboratory equipment. The highborn were surprised that a fledgling science guild was already waiting to be born, if the Attolians wanted to be a part of it... in the meantime the highborn spent a considerable sum (1 wealth) on kickstarting two remote labs, both in the platz but well insulated from whatever was around them.

SCIENCE GUILD IS FORMED BY HIGHBORN! (this and other guilds will be populated in a special decision point, soon to come)

_____________________________________________________________

Spacekitty Everyone

Initial studies of the cave fisher by varied interested parties (everyone with a task force to fight them has access to this information) -- Anuc notices with Dr. Fleming that despite the creatures name, the critters likely do not fare very well in water. While water may provide a steady food source, their breathing pores (strangely located at the joints in their legs and fore-claws) not only do not have the capacity to breathe underwater it might significantly complicate their movement. After initial autopsies revealed that indeed the sticky tentacles and filaments it uses to catch prey -- it is ill-supervised fennec examiners who discover and extract the special gland the cave fisher uses to create it's adhesive. If properly harnessed, new and powerful adhesives could be made for the colony, and for export. The filament glands themselves, (though only while the creature was alive) could produce quality fiber akin to spidersilk... the adhesive glands could simply be harvested from dead fishers to produce exciting bonding agents, and a means to neutralize them if studied further. They also had a primitive central nerve cluster in the center of the creature -- leading to speculation that very accurate piercing damage could harm a fisher gravely or cause it to panic. Worthwhile finds indeed!

Sadly, the flesh of a fisher was horribly impalatable -- only an aymaran would deign to eat one -- except for the moist, succulent, almost flaky meats contained in the claws of the creature. Such things were not only food, but also luxuries to be savored... sadly, these meats were highly perishable and if not cooked within hours of removal, were as sickening as the rest of the thing.

______________________________________________________________

There was talk of a University -- but at this point nobody believed it -- the capitol was taking all the labor and attention for construction of late, and no declared working details seemed to be outlined... Many people in the colony agreed that the learners square was doing a cracking job for present size and interests of the colony -- but perhaps might be a more realistic goal for after the cull, or when populations really began to boom. Still, if leaders wanted a university... they would build one, but it didn't seem much was happening at the moment...

______________________________________________________________

SpiralErrant Prince Vaethorion Spacekitty :

Taming of the Runners was actually making some progress. The key, as the Tyren initially thought, was separating the alphas from the followers. Once this was done, Alphas were easily tricked into "leading" the people and carts they were strapped to, and followers responding to the hells or crop of anybody posturing authoritatively -- although it seemed Fennec were especially good at commanding runner "betas" ... for no other reason it would seem than that they were orange-ish... the color being a cue for the weaker runners to follow the darker, mustard colored alphas.

THE COLONY NOW HAS A TAME HERD OF 5 ALPHAS and 45 Beta Runners! (Division and use TBD) -- they will profit from more time taming/training them, and Tyren and Fennec involvement is especially productive...

 

[Beckoncall]

SpiralErrant :

[Lore check: Ummush consults the iron pages. Orm consults Anais. What is happening to the cull tree and how do you fight it?]


Ummush was all business when he sought to consult the iron pages. There was a part of the Shaman-wagon that was almost never examined, and even less often delved, containing the "archives" of the iron pages. While in the more recent times the plates were linked together in books or chains with wool through punched-holes, the oldest of the iron pages... and Ummush had to move many boxes to find the oldest... the earliest accounts were all considered to be ancient stories of unquestionable value by the Tyren, but without absolute certainty how much was truth and how much was mythologizing of ancient times or making the best lessons memorable with a good story...

...Ummush noted the dust on the oldest page-coffers smelled even older than he did. How much of the dust on these boxes was once a part of him? He put the idea out of his mind.

...In the earliest days, the story plates weren't just things you carried to cite the lore and wisdom of the ancestors -- in the early times, the plates were a GARB that shamans actually wore -- only the biggest and mightiest shamans could bear and claim protection over so much wisdom... When your plates grew too heavy to bear, They were given to other Shaman. They hung like smocks or panchos over the shaman, serving as inspiration, and wisdom, and supposedly even armor, in the earliest times. It was here that Ummush looked.

Back at the earliest plates there was much reference to a "deep quest" -- or "Flight into the dark" these stories were never taken literally but were used as an explanation for why the Tyren always wandered in caravans... that long ago, everything was dark and the Tyren and their friends plunged through endless darkness. "White Centaur" was a spirit that lead them, and strange motes of lore about the Tyren following the "Great, bent-horned chiefs" -- the early story was that the greatest of the bent-horns stayed behind and opened a way for the Caravans, lead by white centaur and black Satyr, through and endless cavern. Many died, and quickly -- fleeing that which the bent-horns bought time for escape, and even more to the dangers of the endless caves that to be navigated, the Tyren people became an endless and vigilant train of wagons... Underground they traded with dwarfs, and dark elves, and even more insideous or scary sounding civilizations in the belly of the earth.. the Great chiefs no longer bent their horns, "for they were already blind" -- was something that popped up more than once. Ummush sought out and found tell of this great journey costing the lives of almost everyone in the expedition through the darkness, though never had he imagined that such an expedition actually took place. Who were "White Centaur" and "Black Satyr"? The names of chiefs of old? Allies of a forgotten age? Guardian spirits long forgotten? Many tales reverenced a variety of races that attempted to "run the darkness" with the Tyren -- but only the Tyren were said to have emerged, from underground, on the opposite side of a sea from whatever they fled.

It was said some Tyren remained in the darkness, with their own spirits or chiefs to guard them. Others said that when the light was finally found again that it was decided that the Tyren would spread out, so that whatever might follow them might never find them all, some embraced the herd, some embraced the plow, and some took up to warring, so cut were their teeth on fighting through the dark that they were mightier than most all they faced again "in the light" -- many branches from this central tree terminated in loss or misfortune, but the trade-wagons and herdstyren won through. Forgetting the past, the shamans took off their plates as garb and made them into guiding wisdom rather than literal protection.

Ummush looked everywhere. There was so much blending, so much confusion, so much sand that had hardened into sedimentary rock in the telling of their tales. Uumush found one reference to a great spirit "Paa'ani" -- under which all the powers of beasts rallied under. It was both a nation and an ideal, something that was, or perhaps could be. The Rage of the Tyren was soothed by "the blinder's horns" and they were made to be at peace with a coalition of spirits. Spirits all but lost to time now. Paa'ani could have been an ideal, or a coalition, or a god, or anything. All of Ummush's studies nearly addled his mind, but he could find no reference to the Cull... only "ravening horrors", "the wrath of strutting gods", and "the flight through the dark" -- but Ummush had not given up yet. He would carry the old lore with him always, and consider it as he moved about on his now-lighter feet.

He would don the mantle of the iron pages once more -- not just for ceremony, but as they were worn in the old days -- as armor and constant reminder. Bruul and Shul would gaze at this later, awestruck, it was like seeing the harbinger of a bygone age... and Bruul was quick to adopt a mantle as well. The old ways had been protected -- and now perhaps the old ways would protect them. There was much bellowing in Harun'Taras that night...

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"What is happening to the cull tree, how do you fight it?"

Anais swam to the window Orm opened on the sprawling countryside and showed the tree turned angry monolith to their resident storyteller. Anais smiled. THAT, friend -- is a YAWN... something to indicate that the entity sleeps, and protects itself reflexively in it's dream. It does not bode well for getting to it, for it obviously is a shield, and a dangerous one -- but bodes well in that the Cull, if indeed that is what it is, lies within, it is in a deeper torpor, hibernation, sleep of the dead than Anais seemingly hoped to anticipate. That is basically a defensive gesture to a buzzing of flies to it -- but it is not an awakening cull. This tells me it's slumber is deep, that it is gathering strength and cannot, or does not, resist overt action on it directly...

...While it was no doubt better defended now, Anais seemed to still see a bright side... that is not the eye of an angry and emerging world-killer. That is a defensive gesture from a sleeping titan. "Whew! I really was looking forward to seeing snow for the first time. I'm glad I'll likely get to."