Cosmo
Does Not Know Kung-fu
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Fantasy Throne of Heaven
- Thread starter Cosmo
- Start date
Kent
Imagination will bring us everywhere
Turn 1
Somewhere, First City
Amon lounged on the balcony of a quaint dwelling in the heart of the First City, his monocle catching the twinkling of the night stars as he gazed upward. Below, the city pulsed with its own rhythm, a woman’s cry sliced through the cool night air as a thief swiped her bag. Funny enough, just 15 meters ahead, the fleeing rogue collided with a stranger, and yelped in despair as he too was robbed, by a more skilled bandit no less. Ah, the charming cycle of the First City, Amon mused, a city alive with endless tales painted in vibrant shades of irony.
The creak of the balcony door stirred Amon from his musings, and a figure enveloped in blood red robes emerged from the shadows. “My Lord, you beckoned?”
Amon tilted his head back with a soft chuckle, “Annoyed to be at your Lord’s beck and call, Sully?”
The hooded figure, Sully, felt a chill race down his spine as his inner turmoil was laid bare by the enigmatic being before him. It was futile to question or deduce how he did it. However, Sully attempted a slight correction, “It’s Sullivan, my Lord.”
“No, it's Sully.”
“Of course...” Sully yielded. Arguing was a dangerous game he wasn't willing to play. Amon’s gaze drifted back to the jeweled sky, lingering on the twinkling constellations before he spoke again, “Gather the heads of the Assassins Guild, Thieves Guild, and whatever motley crews reign in the First City at the City Hall. Now, shoo.”
“As you wish.” Sully melted into the shadows of the room, disappearing from sight. Amon, frowning slightly at the closed door, gave a lazy flick of his wrist, and the door clicked shut magically. Silly blood mage, too jittery to remember basic courtesies, he mused as he turned his attention back to the enigmatic veil of the night.
Order 1: [INFORMATION REDACTED]
Order 2: Consolidate the First City, Establish the “Raven”
Somewhere, First City
Amon lounged on the balcony of a quaint dwelling in the heart of the First City, his monocle catching the twinkling of the night stars as he gazed upward. Below, the city pulsed with its own rhythm, a woman’s cry sliced through the cool night air as a thief swiped her bag. Funny enough, just 15 meters ahead, the fleeing rogue collided with a stranger, and yelped in despair as he too was robbed, by a more skilled bandit no less. Ah, the charming cycle of the First City, Amon mused, a city alive with endless tales painted in vibrant shades of irony.
The creak of the balcony door stirred Amon from his musings, and a figure enveloped in blood red robes emerged from the shadows. “My Lord, you beckoned?”
Amon tilted his head back with a soft chuckle, “Annoyed to be at your Lord’s beck and call, Sully?”
The hooded figure, Sully, felt a chill race down his spine as his inner turmoil was laid bare by the enigmatic being before him. It was futile to question or deduce how he did it. However, Sully attempted a slight correction, “It’s Sullivan, my Lord.”
“No, it's Sully.”
“Of course...” Sully yielded. Arguing was a dangerous game he wasn't willing to play. Amon’s gaze drifted back to the jeweled sky, lingering on the twinkling constellations before he spoke again, “Gather the heads of the Assassins Guild, Thieves Guild, and whatever motley crews reign in the First City at the City Hall. Now, shoo.”
“As you wish.” Sully melted into the shadows of the room, disappearing from sight. Amon, frowning slightly at the closed door, gave a lazy flick of his wrist, and the door clicked shut magically. Silly blood mage, too jittery to remember basic courtesies, he mused as he turned his attention back to the enigmatic veil of the night.
Order 1: [INFORMATION REDACTED]
Order 2: Consolidate the First City, Establish the “Raven”
Amon gathered the Assassins Guild, Thieves Guild, and other nefarious guilds in the First City. His goal? To make them submit, of course. He will use whatever method necessary to do so.
Terrorize them with the Blood Mages? That can be done. Of course, his presence is enough of a terror if he even exerts a little power over them. How would they feel if their feelings, memories, or thoughts start to slowly disappear? His victims usually wouldn’t notice but he’ll make the fact very very evident.
After he makes them submit, he’ll consolidate them to establish “Raven”, a new organization under his beck and call. Of course, they can still be assassins and thieves, but this organization will be Amon’s eyes and ears in the world. They will be his personal information guild. Of course, they can still sell their services to others, even to Godbounds, as long as they could profit.
Addendum: Bribe them with money. Amon himself will identify some leaders who has a potential to be the 'whip' and visit them himself to convince them. After he convince those 'whips', they should be able to convince other leaders.
Terrorize them with the Blood Mages? That can be done. Of course, his presence is enough of a terror if he even exerts a little power over them. How would they feel if their feelings, memories, or thoughts start to slowly disappear? His victims usually wouldn’t notice but he’ll make the fact very very evident.
After he makes them submit, he’ll consolidate them to establish “Raven”, a new organization under his beck and call. Of course, they can still be assassins and thieves, but this organization will be Amon’s eyes and ears in the world. They will be his personal information guild. Of course, they can still sell their services to others, even to Godbounds, as long as they could profit.
Addendum: Bribe them with money. Amon himself will identify some leaders who has a potential to be the 'whip' and visit them himself to convince them. After he convince those 'whips', they should be able to convince other leaders.
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Cosmo
Does Not Know Kung-fu
Amon
Turn 1
Kent
The First City carries on as it always has, with misshapen foul spawn walking the streets led by their blood mage handlers eager to show them off in the flesh pits like prized hunting hounds or a horse of particular fine breeding. Thieves and cutpurses roam the alleys freely, and even the main streets, and are kept off the market only by the blood blades of the Crimson Blades as they do not abide commerce, itself, to be disrupted by their actions as that means less payment for them. Somehow, the First City keeps on going, a city that should have fallen to pieces over the sheer corruption and darkness that was within it, but endures.. So long as its neighbors contain to ignore its existence and the current 'ruler' doesn't pick fights too large to handle too soon.
[Information Hidden]
A truly staggering amount of Amon's wealth is leveraged to try and buy the Assassins and Thieves Guilds. The threat of Blood Mages doesn't do much as Amon doesn't control the Blood Mages, they are, by and large, free agents and usually work for whomever pays them enough, usually in flesh or gold... But if one throws enough coin at assassins and criminals, they will get notice. None of the leaders of the guilds actually show to the meeting point, because none of them trust each other enough to do so, but they do send representatives to act on their behalf and hear out the man that threw enough coin at them to sink a ship. The representatives tentatively agree to this 'Raven' business but make it clear they do not see Amon as their leader and don't feel beholden to him outside of what has been purchased in the retainer fee. As part of this 'Raven', they will not actively act against Amon and his goals so long as they keep being paid [The EP spent keeps going for this, although you are free to throw more at them but they have currently been hired in perpetuity], and will do some spying and bladework if it is called for as part of that arrangement. The guilds are fiercly independent, as is everyone in this city, and throwing some shiny coin on the ground isn't going to make them submit.
Trying to find 'Whips' is difficult. The guilds, by their nature, are secretive and don't go about talking about their members. While some, inevitably, become famous through word of mouth, whom those names actually belong to is a bit of a secret.. It would be possible to try and find that, but it would require trying to use the guilds to spy on one another. Doable, as part of this 'Raven', but could lead to some interesting turn outs..
Decision Point
1. Allow the guilds their independence and accept them on retainer
2. Try and get the guilds to spy on one another to try and bend them to your will fully by locating key members to try and turn or remove
3. Your Choice
Turn 1
Kent
The First City carries on as it always has, with misshapen foul spawn walking the streets led by their blood mage handlers eager to show them off in the flesh pits like prized hunting hounds or a horse of particular fine breeding. Thieves and cutpurses roam the alleys freely, and even the main streets, and are kept off the market only by the blood blades of the Crimson Blades as they do not abide commerce, itself, to be disrupted by their actions as that means less payment for them. Somehow, the First City keeps on going, a city that should have fallen to pieces over the sheer corruption and darkness that was within it, but endures.. So long as its neighbors contain to ignore its existence and the current 'ruler' doesn't pick fights too large to handle too soon.
[Information Hidden]
A truly staggering amount of Amon's wealth is leveraged to try and buy the Assassins and Thieves Guilds. The threat of Blood Mages doesn't do much as Amon doesn't control the Blood Mages, they are, by and large, free agents and usually work for whomever pays them enough, usually in flesh or gold... But if one throws enough coin at assassins and criminals, they will get notice. None of the leaders of the guilds actually show to the meeting point, because none of them trust each other enough to do so, but they do send representatives to act on their behalf and hear out the man that threw enough coin at them to sink a ship. The representatives tentatively agree to this 'Raven' business but make it clear they do not see Amon as their leader and don't feel beholden to him outside of what has been purchased in the retainer fee. As part of this 'Raven', they will not actively act against Amon and his goals so long as they keep being paid [The EP spent keeps going for this, although you are free to throw more at them but they have currently been hired in perpetuity], and will do some spying and bladework if it is called for as part of that arrangement. The guilds are fiercly independent, as is everyone in this city, and throwing some shiny coin on the ground isn't going to make them submit.
Trying to find 'Whips' is difficult. The guilds, by their nature, are secretive and don't go about talking about their members. While some, inevitably, become famous through word of mouth, whom those names actually belong to is a bit of a secret.. It would be possible to try and find that, but it would require trying to use the guilds to spy on one another. Doable, as part of this 'Raven', but could lead to some interesting turn outs..
Decision Point
1. Allow the guilds their independence and accept them on retainer
2. Try and get the guilds to spy on one another to try and bend them to your will fully by locating key members to try and turn or remove
3. Your Choice
ThatWhichShouldBe
Sleeper of Endless Eons Whence Death May Die
Turn 1
Han Liuyang, Bearer of the Word "Dawn"
The Order of the Argentsworn
Han Liuyang rests in a chair looking over the city from the high balcony, a cup of rice wine in hand. He occupied a suite in one of the order's high pavilions, one he'd chosen so that every morning, he could perform this little ritual of his. He raises his cup and toasts the rising sun, and takes a drink. A pile of letters sits at his hand, ones to be sent out to various figures around the world. For the Gods had fallen, and now- The Thrones lay open. All the Heavens to shake and shudder, until one was crowned the new Supreme God. He mulls the thought, over his wine. Looking across the horizon.
The monks had raised him, but they could not truly tame him. He was the Sun, irrepressible- All their codes and their strictures, almost none of them had managed to truly bind him. Of all the Order's disciples, he had been by far the most unrestrained, most unruly. Some might have called him a disciple in name only, but there was one oath, one idea they had managed to instill in the heart of burgeoning divinity. And as Han Liuyang once again filled his cup of rice wine and toasted the morning sun, he swore those words once again.
This world is worth protecting.
And now, the world would tear itself asunder if it was not bound together. Now, the Thrones must be reclaimed, lest all the universe fall to ash and the void's hungry horrors. What was there to do, for a man like him?
Order 1: Seek the Past
The lands of the Great Akula are filled with wonders, and Han Liuyang craves adventure... and is in need of strength, for the days ahead. The favored son of the Silver City will seek treasures, relics, ancient knowledge, things that were lost in this cradle of Empires and can yet be found to bring him might.
Order 2: Silver Tongue
Reach out to the city-states of the Great Akula, and work to establish closer relationships of trade and diplomatic ties, at least in the face of common dangers such as monsters and outside threats. With the Gods gone, no doubt Xicala would rise, and the Abylids turn their gaze east- And when they do, Han Liuyang knew that the Great Akula's sons and daughters had to be ready.
Han Liuyang, Bearer of the Word "Dawn"
The Order of the Argentsworn
Han Liuyang rests in a chair looking over the city from the high balcony, a cup of rice wine in hand. He occupied a suite in one of the order's high pavilions, one he'd chosen so that every morning, he could perform this little ritual of his. He raises his cup and toasts the rising sun, and takes a drink. A pile of letters sits at his hand, ones to be sent out to various figures around the world. For the Gods had fallen, and now- The Thrones lay open. All the Heavens to shake and shudder, until one was crowned the new Supreme God. He mulls the thought, over his wine. Looking across the horizon.
The monks had raised him, but they could not truly tame him. He was the Sun, irrepressible- All their codes and their strictures, almost none of them had managed to truly bind him. Of all the Order's disciples, he had been by far the most unrestrained, most unruly. Some might have called him a disciple in name only, but there was one oath, one idea they had managed to instill in the heart of burgeoning divinity. And as Han Liuyang once again filled his cup of rice wine and toasted the morning sun, he swore those words once again.
This world is worth protecting.
And now, the world would tear itself asunder if it was not bound together. Now, the Thrones must be reclaimed, lest all the universe fall to ash and the void's hungry horrors. What was there to do, for a man like him?
Order 1: Seek the Past
The lands of the Great Akula are filled with wonders, and Han Liuyang craves adventure... and is in need of strength, for the days ahead. The favored son of the Silver City will seek treasures, relics, ancient knowledge, things that were lost in this cradle of Empires and can yet be found to bring him might.
Order 2: Silver Tongue
Reach out to the city-states of the Great Akula, and work to establish closer relationships of trade and diplomatic ties, at least in the face of common dangers such as monsters and outside threats. With the Gods gone, no doubt Xicala would rise, and the Abylids turn their gaze east- And when they do, Han Liuyang knew that the Great Akula's sons and daughters had to be ready.
Auriel Maza
Professor of Cuddles
The Oryon Word - Turn 1 - [Post Theme]
"Nothing Stops the Mail."
"Nothing Stops the Mail."
The Spirit of Revolution
'Mailman", that was his nickname. The name that all knew him as. Federal agents raided many homes, bust down multiple doors, arrested hundreds if not thousands, but over thirty years, they never found Mailman. In truth, they were looking for an aging man, not one in eternal youth. One that led the Star Spangle, the revolutionists that have opposed the federal government for generations. Doing whatever it took to end the Orwellian nightmare that had befallen their world. One world government oppressing the planet, teaching all that "You shall own nothing and be happy." How strange that millions heard the warning and heeded it not. But, Ryx could not change that, nor would he dwell upon it. He had a delivery to make. Madam President Umbridge, a rather ironic name considering a particular urban fantasy book. He descends the mountain freeways in his Gord G-140, a generic truck, with a postal logo on the side. Many packages beside him in a postal basket. All of them legitimate, because they would be checked. No, the delivery for the president would be different.
He approached the gate; the guards part, letting their rifles aim at the ground. Ryx walked past in a postal uniform, not as himself, but as a beautiful woman, one that eased the tensions of the overwhelmingly male guardstaff. Guided by the delivery inspecter, Ryx lays down a letter and a medium-sized box. They scan and examine the contents. Nothing wrong with them. As one of the guards examined, Ryx activated the explosives in his truck, causing the guards to rush. Feigning confusion, he switches the letter opener on a tray nearby. The one madam president would use. The guards return, and carry Ryx to a police vehicle for questioning. From the wreckage and the created identity, Ryx is treated as the victim. The mailman has struck, that is what they believe. Now was to wait. As Ryx left, his eyes could see the ethereal mist on multiple of the staff. None of them showed up today, leaving loyal copies in their wake.
As the police took Ryx away in the cop car, the entire executive building exploded, raining rubble and chaos all around. Yet, the threat to the rest of the city non-existant. A perfect bomb. Surgical, practical, restrained; a deafening rally cry for the powdered keg. Riots erupted from the street as rebels on cue threw out weapons and ammo for the general populace. Infiltrated rebels in the police sowed discord amongst them. Explosives ring in the air as more government buildings crumbled to dust. And Ryx? Firing bullets into brains and copying cops to create additional chaos. The day of reckoning had begun.
And over the coming months, with sowed discord amongst the government, the seizing of the media, and the rising hatred against the government sown by Ryx, the world government would fail. And new nations would rise from the rubble. And in that new world, Ryx could stay and help it form. But, his powers, they came from somewhere. A place with a throne, with a Sovereign now missing. And the whispers that his glitchy nature and his divinity revealed, needed him so. So, he left his world. His brothers, his sisters, his friends, all of them; he left all that he knew, for the spirit of revolution never rests.
From Mailman to Father
A swirl of shadows formed deep within the redwoods of Flaustan. Quiet, serene backcountry that few knew or even care existed. And in its apex, a man phased into existence. Rifle across his back, pistol by his waist, and clothed in modern clothing; Ryx arrived with all on his person. How strange yet how comforting. One Mailman. A deep breath of the sweet air, holding a butterfly on a finger, the smell of pine from the smaller pines in the forest; a howl of a baby shatters the serenity. Wrapped in a dirty cloth, a baby boy left all alone with chilled skin. Fair skin, lilac eyes, and hair as black as rich dark chocolate; Ryx dropped his coat and wrapped the baby in it. Cradling it in his arms, there was a note by it.
"If anyone ever reads this, the king has fallen and the rebels have won. They promise peace but they will only kill us if we speak out. All that they have promised is a lie. I cannot... I cannot help my baby anymore. I cannot let him live in this horrible world. They will use him, abuse him. A life of suffering is no life at all. If you find him, please take him away from here. Grant him mercy from this. He is only two days old. Give him a name, and one day, tell him he is a prince. For he is Jassyn's son, grandson of the king. Please take care of my child, for I cannot."
Ryx sighed, shedding a tear for the child. A new world, old problems. He gives the boy a soft kiss on the forehead, rocking him in his arms. "Hello Kaladin, I am going to take care of you now, my sweet child." The baby silenced and stared into Ryx's eyes. Hearing his voice and hearing the name he had been given. A soft giggle exited the child as Ryx walked calmly, following faint footsteps in the dirt. Kaladin has not been out for long. In a sling, Kaladin giggled away, trying to grasp at Ryx. "You are a cutie. Let's get you somewhere safe, so I can make somewhere to raise you."
And over the next two decades, Ryx would gather the loyalists and help them form a refuge amongst the trees. Appearing as a shadow, a gust wind, random strangers; he became a folk legend in Flaustan. Cracks of thunder, massive booms, and sudden friends; Ryx inspired the few who remained to continue. Children and teens stuck in camps and "puppymills" liberated and joined the proto-Word in the trees. No one understood how it happened, but even the government feared the sound of Ryx's rifle going off as it omened death. And over those years, many questions appeared. Was it a ghost? A force? A god? Was it nature? No one knew. People die and nothing would be left of the attack. No bullet, no casing. Bullets made of shadows. Distractions, paranoia kept Kornith busy. Allowing the tree network of the Word to be made. Magic hiding it away deep in the canopy of the fantastical redwoods. So tall that the buildings on the ground looked like toys. It took all this time to get everything together. Hard work, but it was worth it.
For Ryx, it was different now. Not just fighting for what is right, but for his son. It was strange. For someone who no one could remember, being a father was the last thing anyone suspected, but it happened nevertheless. Building a better world for Kaladin and the other children so that they will have children of their own, who know not war.
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CaptainSully
🤘🏻Master of Puppets🤘🏻
Thrassax Turn 1
In the shadowy, piss stained depths of the ancient city, a presence of pure malevolence lurked. For those so inclined to use the sewer as a home, the unwelcome guest was setting up to become much more than just another denizen of the fecal canals. This new arrival was destined for more, his path drove him beyond the dreams of merely existing in an environment free of bodily fluid and food without rot. Thrassax as he was now known…his path was true enlightenment through the Old Ones within the Void.
Enlightenment for Thrassax transcended the mortal concept, for the deities worshiped by the mortals of the world were fickle, weak…broken. The Old Ones transcend time, space and existence as it is known and his journey was to join them and become more than the insignificant being he saw himself as.
In the oppressive darkness of the sewers, Thrassax plotted a sinister scheme, one that he hoped would be the first step to realise his ambitions. His nefarious plan revolved around a sinister secret, the Illithid's dark power to infect unsuspecting victims with tadpoles. These insidious creatures, once implanted, would initiate a horrifying process known as ceremorphosis, transforming the host into a new Illithid. Ceremorphosis was a grotesquely painful process that cared little for the host's pain threshold. Men, women and children…all their lives were forfeit.
The Illithid was not only a master of astral magic but also held a formidable intellect. His mind was a labyrinth of cunning and strategy, honed not just through the trials of survival in a hostile world, but from the minute peak into the Void that he had been blessed with. Mortal minds would crumble at the mere mentioning of the Void’s true name, yet the Illithid was blessed.
Thrassax knew that his plan required patience, precision, and the careful manipulation of pawns, knowing full well that he was one himself. The Old Ones toyed with many to satiate their fulfillment and some enjoyed nothing more than ruining the best laid plans of their fellows. Just because Thrassax had been given power by one Old One, did not mean that they were all as aligned with his goals.
At the point where multiple sewer canals joined into one last cesspool, Thrassax stood, looking down at his hands. A creature wriggled and writhed between his fingers, its translucent body and small size hid its horrifyingly, insidious nature. This small tadpole, the vanguard of Thrassax’s grand plan, was the first that he had created. It showed him affection, drawn to the Illithid, yet Thrassax felt nothing and if not for its use, he would sooner crush it in the grip of his hand. He flicked his wrist and the tadpole sailed through the air, splashing into the waste water pool before him.
Thrassax turned and walked deeper into the sewer to plot, leaving behind the sound of squirming and soft splashing behind him. The single tadpole had joined its brothers and sisters, the pool more tadpole than water…the clock was ticking and it was almost time…
Actions:
Action 1
--Sent to GM--
Action 2
--Sent to GM--
In the shadowy, piss stained depths of the ancient city, a presence of pure malevolence lurked. For those so inclined to use the sewer as a home, the unwelcome guest was setting up to become much more than just another denizen of the fecal canals. This new arrival was destined for more, his path drove him beyond the dreams of merely existing in an environment free of bodily fluid and food without rot. Thrassax as he was now known…his path was true enlightenment through the Old Ones within the Void.
Enlightenment for Thrassax transcended the mortal concept, for the deities worshiped by the mortals of the world were fickle, weak…broken. The Old Ones transcend time, space and existence as it is known and his journey was to join them and become more than the insignificant being he saw himself as.
In the oppressive darkness of the sewers, Thrassax plotted a sinister scheme, one that he hoped would be the first step to realise his ambitions. His nefarious plan revolved around a sinister secret, the Illithid's dark power to infect unsuspecting victims with tadpoles. These insidious creatures, once implanted, would initiate a horrifying process known as ceremorphosis, transforming the host into a new Illithid. Ceremorphosis was a grotesquely painful process that cared little for the host's pain threshold. Men, women and children…all their lives were forfeit.
The Illithid was not only a master of astral magic but also held a formidable intellect. His mind was a labyrinth of cunning and strategy, honed not just through the trials of survival in a hostile world, but from the minute peak into the Void that he had been blessed with. Mortal minds would crumble at the mere mentioning of the Void’s true name, yet the Illithid was blessed.
Thrassax knew that his plan required patience, precision, and the careful manipulation of pawns, knowing full well that he was one himself. The Old Ones toyed with many to satiate their fulfillment and some enjoyed nothing more than ruining the best laid plans of their fellows. Just because Thrassax had been given power by one Old One, did not mean that they were all as aligned with his goals.
At the point where multiple sewer canals joined into one last cesspool, Thrassax stood, looking down at his hands. A creature wriggled and writhed between his fingers, its translucent body and small size hid its horrifyingly, insidious nature. This small tadpole, the vanguard of Thrassax’s grand plan, was the first that he had created. It showed him affection, drawn to the Illithid, yet Thrassax felt nothing and if not for its use, he would sooner crush it in the grip of his hand. He flicked his wrist and the tadpole sailed through the air, splashing into the waste water pool before him.
Thrassax turned and walked deeper into the sewer to plot, leaving behind the sound of squirming and soft splashing behind him. The single tadpole had joined its brothers and sisters, the pool more tadpole than water…the clock was ticking and it was almost time…
Actions:
Action 1
--Sent to GM--
Action 2
--Sent to GM--
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Crocodile
Mister Zero
Nomolos of Kozan
Bearer of Knowledge
Turn 01
Archivum Kozan
1103 M - Azuth 10th - Common Year
Year 0 - Azuth 10th - Godfall
It has finally come, the time of endings and beginnings. The gods have gone and left their power to fall upon others. The Sovereign is gone. I rejoice as much as I dread. Four of the Five Archivums stand as smote ruins for the wrath of the former Sovereign. Only my own Archivum has not felt the wrath, for our role was always to be the survivors. We are the final vault of knowledge, the bridge between eras so that knowledge may not truly be lost. So we bowed our heads and witheld the forbidden lores that the other four dared to teach in an effort to uplift mortals beyond the limits set by a petty god king.
I have wondered at times if the Sovereign had a deeper purpose to curbing our development. For so viciously crushing the expansion of certain knowledge to the point he has destroyed four of the greatest libraries in all of the world. I dread to think what could drive them to do it, but there have been other petty acts the make me wonder if it was not simply a means of ego and control. I am biased, knowing the other Archivums dared to dream while ours had to always hold the knowledge buried deep so that the Sovereign would not destroy us and all our gathered studies.
The world has been told, our ravens have gone flying and Explicators are openly declaring the Era of Godfall to all who would listen. We have given warning to the mortals and those beyond who listen and lurk amongst them. They deserve to know the cause of the great terrors, mayhem and upheaval I already feel in my bones to be in motion. To study history and the nature of mortals is to know that once power is held, it inspires one to do far more terrible things.
There is a another dread. What happened to the gods? What became of them? Who gives up power? Some do; I hope I would when the time became necessary. Did something slay them? Were they eaten? Banished? Driven from our reality? Was it their time? Is Godfall but a cycle, preparing for its next array of power seekers and gifted to arise? Was something happening that was so terrible that the gods sacrificed themselves, their very power to prevent or pause it? I must seek answers, but for now the order must spread its influence wider. We need eyes and ears in every land possible, teaching and spreading knowledge even as they gather more for our records and research.
I have decided to start with the Dwarves, if only to build alliance over the bonds of Kozan itself. Beyond this, I would weep to see their vast knowledge and lores lost that we still may not fully have recorded or copied. Beyond that, I will begin my working to make means to speak with others. Let us hope I might put my own powers to use in the Godfall.
Actions 1: Nomolos will go personally to court trade and alliance with the last Dwarven Hold of Mazaruk. He brings with him dwarven Explicators as a show of good will in the hopes of forging bonds with the Last Hold.
Action 2: Nomolos will commence the creation of a 20 sets of Whisper Stones, each pair only able to communicate with one another. One stone will remain in Kozan while the other will be provided to those as deemed needed by Nomolos.
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Heyitsjiwon
One Thousand Club
Turn 1
Gofrit the Rejected
In the cozy, cluttered chamber tucked away within the vast expanse of the Keep, Gofrit, the jester extraordinaire and recently a lord, lay in slumber. His motley costume, adorned with vibrant colors, bells, and the unmistakable jester's hat, was neatly folded beside him, a reminder of his daytime antics. The moonlight streamed through the chamber's solitary window, casting an ethereal glow that played upon the masks and trinkets adorning the room. Gofrit's dreams were filled with the taunting echoes of laughter, as if his very soul danced to the tune of jests and merriment at his own expense. A soft snore filled the room as little drips of spittle began to slowly climb down from Gofrit's mouth.
Tonight, however, his reverie would be disrupted. The silence of the manor was abruptly pierced by the clamor of approaching footsteps. Gofrit stirred in his dreams, a frown forming on his sleeping face as he flinched to grab the spear that lay near his bed, blinding him for a second as light poured out from the spear the moment he touched it. It was almost like his better half expected this moment to happen and blessed the spear with the ability to shine brightly just to spite Gofrit for a half second whenever he had to suddenly wake up in the middle of the night. The approaching footsteps grew louder, more insistent, and the jester's eyes fluttered open. With a dramatic flair befitting his profession, Gofrit sat up abruptly, his hat tumbling from his head in a comical fashion. Confusion painted his features, and his eyes darted around the room, struggling to reconcile the dreamlike world he had just left with the intrusion of reality.
The chamber door burst open, revealing a cadre of guards, their armor gleaming in the moonlight. Their stern expressions contrasted starkly with the whimsical aura of Gofrit's quarters, and the jester couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding.
"Lord Gofrit!" one of the guards declared, his voice authoritative and urgent. "A message! A message has arrived for you, my Lord." Gofrit, still grappling with the fog of sleep, blinked at the guards, his mind slowly catching up with the gravity of the situation. It was rare for him to have to actually address any issues or do anything as a Lord since the province was fairly autonomous and things generally ran themselves. Little did he know that this would swiftly change. His talents as a jester had always been a source of joy and amusement, but tonight, they were being summoned for a very different purpose. As he rose to his feet, his costume jingled with each movement, the bells serving as a haunting reminder of the laughter he was leaving behind. With trepidation in his heart, Gofrit wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt and followed the guards into the unknown, leaving the whimsical world of jests and merriment behind as he ventured into a world gripped by turmoil by warring lords and gods.
---
Action 1: Ditmarsh had long been an area with no major infrastructure or industry as the terrain was frequently too challenging for outsiders to invade and while also being too poor for lords to even consider worrying about the region. However, for future growth, the Ditmarshans had to learn to work with nature and the terrain and truly become masters of their own lands. Gofrit organizes an infrastructure project to reclaim the swamp and marshlands from their watery captive through building a series of polders, dikes, and fishing weirs to control the flow of water and fish and to allow room for fertile fields to grow while retaining the ability for the Ditmarhans to strategically flood regions against aggressors. Ditmarsh had to secure a stable source of food and the foundations of an economy if it were to grow and prosper beyond its current dejected status quo.
Action 2: Sent to DM
Free Action: Explore the Ditmarsh Ruins!
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Cosmo
Does Not Know Kung-fu
Han Liuyang
Turn 1
ThatWhichShouldBe
The Silver City stood as the 'gateway' to the Great Akula, a region that was home to many empires and nations when man was very young and just starting to take its first steps. While it has long since been replaced by Talirus, and possibly the new rising power of the Abylid Caliph, Akula is still home to wonders and great cities of power.. Although some of them have long started to pay tribute to the Abylid for safe keeping and promise of independence. Akula stands as a shadow of its former self, a decaying wretch clinging onto the glories of long forgotten past, but perhaps that would change or the disappearance of the gods would simply accelerate this and put the Akula City-States, and the vaunted Silver City, where it belongs, under the heel of their betters.
There are many ancient tombs, fallen cities and caverns within the region, but the question was always.. which to go to? Many were lost to time, the information on them gone save for the occasional eccentric archeologist, most of which vanish and are never seen again and the more famous and popular examples have long since been picked clean by adventurers and mercenary companies. Still, Liuyang does hear rumors of something found deep at the heart of the Great Akula, a temple half-submerged into the ground believed to be the resting place of the Dragon Emperor and his legions. If true, it could hold great promise or danger, if false, it could prove a colossal waste of time.
Decision Point
1. Venture to the temple alone.
2. Bring a military regiment from the Silver City. [Could make neighbors nervous]
3. Hire an adventuring party to accompany Liuyang [1 EP Cost]
[No matter which you pick, it will be a scene, just depends on what resources you shall have for it]
The letters go out to the other city-states and towns within the Great Akula but the response is less then ideal. None of them seem particularly interested in a defensive agreement, apparently believing that if any of them were to be attacked it would certainly be the Silver City and why should they risk their necks for them? But some are open to some sort of trade agreements. While such trade agreements already exist, as the Silver City is situated upon the mouths of the great rivers from which the trade flows from, but with some haggling, the existing arrangements can be changed.
The Silver City could take a route of self-sacrifice, cutting its own take of trade coming into the realm to encourage trade which would improve the prosperities of other city-states and improve their opinion of the Silver City.. The Silver City could encourage the rise of a Trade Bloc using friendly city-states to set certain prices to attempt to control the Akula market and undercut competitors, this would certainly improve wealth but seek to alienate neutral cities and greatly sour the relations with the Abylid Caliph... Or The Silver City could increase fees on ships coming and going, greatly increasing its personal wealth at the cost of the prosperity and relations with others in Akula.
Decision Point
1. Cut Silver City Fees
2. Create Trade Bloc
3. Raise Silver City Trade Fees
There is something worrying that comes with the exchange of letters. More of them seem favorable to Abylid Vassalage or even rulership as a way to maintain their personal wealth and power.. If war truly is coming, liuyang may face enemies within and without.
EDIT:
The Silver City has surprised its neighbors by, for the first time in a long, long time, reducing its fees. This increases the prosperity of the other City-States. In addition, the Silver City finds its standing with its fellows improved, as a side effect, the Silver Cities relationship with Valin, the Abysid Caliph and Talirus all minorly increase.
Turn 1
ThatWhichShouldBe
The Silver City stood as the 'gateway' to the Great Akula, a region that was home to many empires and nations when man was very young and just starting to take its first steps. While it has long since been replaced by Talirus, and possibly the new rising power of the Abylid Caliph, Akula is still home to wonders and great cities of power.. Although some of them have long started to pay tribute to the Abylid for safe keeping and promise of independence. Akula stands as a shadow of its former self, a decaying wretch clinging onto the glories of long forgotten past, but perhaps that would change or the disappearance of the gods would simply accelerate this and put the Akula City-States, and the vaunted Silver City, where it belongs, under the heel of their betters.
There are many ancient tombs, fallen cities and caverns within the region, but the question was always.. which to go to? Many were lost to time, the information on them gone save for the occasional eccentric archeologist, most of which vanish and are never seen again and the more famous and popular examples have long since been picked clean by adventurers and mercenary companies. Still, Liuyang does hear rumors of something found deep at the heart of the Great Akula, a temple half-submerged into the ground believed to be the resting place of the Dragon Emperor and his legions. If true, it could hold great promise or danger, if false, it could prove a colossal waste of time.
Decision Point
1. Venture to the temple alone.
2. Bring a military regiment from the Silver City. [Could make neighbors nervous]
3. Hire an adventuring party to accompany Liuyang [1 EP Cost]
[No matter which you pick, it will be a scene, just depends on what resources you shall have for it]
The letters go out to the other city-states and towns within the Great Akula but the response is less then ideal. None of them seem particularly interested in a defensive agreement, apparently believing that if any of them were to be attacked it would certainly be the Silver City and why should they risk their necks for them? But some are open to some sort of trade agreements. While such trade agreements already exist, as the Silver City is situated upon the mouths of the great rivers from which the trade flows from, but with some haggling, the existing arrangements can be changed.
The Silver City could take a route of self-sacrifice, cutting its own take of trade coming into the realm to encourage trade which would improve the prosperities of other city-states and improve their opinion of the Silver City.. The Silver City could encourage the rise of a Trade Bloc using friendly city-states to set certain prices to attempt to control the Akula market and undercut competitors, this would certainly improve wealth but seek to alienate neutral cities and greatly sour the relations with the Abylid Caliph... Or The Silver City could increase fees on ships coming and going, greatly increasing its personal wealth at the cost of the prosperity and relations with others in Akula.
Decision Point
1. Cut Silver City Fees
2. Create Trade Bloc
3. Raise Silver City Trade Fees
There is something worrying that comes with the exchange of letters. More of them seem favorable to Abylid Vassalage or even rulership as a way to maintain their personal wealth and power.. If war truly is coming, liuyang may face enemies within and without.
EDIT:
The Silver City has surprised its neighbors by, for the first time in a long, long time, reducing its fees. This increases the prosperity of the other City-States. In addition, the Silver City finds its standing with its fellows improved, as a side effect, the Silver Cities relationship with Valin, the Abysid Caliph and Talirus all minorly increase.
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Cosmo
Does Not Know Kung-fu
Thrassax
Turn 1
CaptainSully
The plan is brilliant, but there was a lot of room for errors, but what did that matter when compared to the endless gaze of the Old Ones? What hope could the mortals of Valin had when compared to the labyrinthian minds of the Illithid? Of his new, exalted form? They were doomed already, destined to be exalted and together they would give this world over to the Void! Peace in oblivion..
The thoughts were interrupted by a scream that pierced and echoed down the tunnel, a squad of humans in dark stained gamberson and torches gazed back at Thrassax with wide eyes.. before they turned and bolted down the tunnel.
Thrassax had been spotted by the Sewerjacks! Local soldiers of Valin that are paid to patrol the sewers and canals to clear our monsters and cretins that tried to call it home... If they made it back to the surface, knowledge of him would be revealed.. He had to kill the sewerjacks before they escaped.. If he did not, all could be lost.
But there was another worry. In the back of the Sewerjack squad stood a taller figure, one that had a veteran, almost heroic air about them..
The chase was on.
[Event Rolled! Actions shall be processed after your scene! Kill the Sewerjacks! If even one escapes... well, don't let them escape]
EDIT:
The Sewerjacks were caught and all but two were slain. The two that survived, were infected with tadpoles and became the very thing they had joined the sewerjacks to fight. A sad fate for such brave warriors.
Turn 1
CaptainSully
The plan is brilliant, but there was a lot of room for errors, but what did that matter when compared to the endless gaze of the Old Ones? What hope could the mortals of Valin had when compared to the labyrinthian minds of the Illithid? Of his new, exalted form? They were doomed already, destined to be exalted and together they would give this world over to the Void! Peace in oblivion..
The thoughts were interrupted by a scream that pierced and echoed down the tunnel, a squad of humans in dark stained gamberson and torches gazed back at Thrassax with wide eyes.. before they turned and bolted down the tunnel.
Thrassax had been spotted by the Sewerjacks! Local soldiers of Valin that are paid to patrol the sewers and canals to clear our monsters and cretins that tried to call it home... If they made it back to the surface, knowledge of him would be revealed.. He had to kill the sewerjacks before they escaped.. If he did not, all could be lost.
But there was another worry. In the back of the Sewerjack squad stood a taller figure, one that had a veteran, almost heroic air about them..
The chase was on.
[Event Rolled! Actions shall be processed after your scene! Kill the Sewerjacks! If even one escapes... well, don't let them escape]
EDIT:
The Sewerjacks were caught and all but two were slain. The two that survived, were infected with tadpoles and became the very thing they had joined the sewerjacks to fight. A sad fate for such brave warriors.
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LecternOfJasper
Breathe gold. Think light.
Turn 1
To new beginnings...[[THE HIGH OFFICE, GROUNDS OF ROUNDS, HAMMAR'S RISE]]
Elion Magomar directed his attention to the daily reports, idly drafting responses while the sounds of the city filtered up through the long, thin windows of the central meeting chamber. The hubbub was occasionally interspersed with the calls of the town criers delivering today's news. The other members shuffled in, having hushed conversations that normally would have been about something entirely unimportant, were it not for the day's headlines.As the final members of the High Council of Gil-Galit gathered, a groundskeeper - rather wisely, Elion thought - started shutting the windows, as the sounds of the city began to rise. There sure are a lot of them.
"I believe, we have a quorum. I'm sure any stragglers will be here quite promptly," a red-faced man whose permanently befuddled expression has quite recently soured. Rumlot. Alithorn Rumlot. "And I believe we all agree, that there is one topic that demands some, urgency," he continues, tugging at his collar as the crowd outside only grew louder.
"Who in their right minds would give such an important, and, of course, unfounded report to the press? Extremely foolish, even for one of us," a sharper voice cut in, staring daggers at Elion as he set down the reports. Of course Halfcliff knew, they all know. No one else had even seen the letter yet.
"Individuals of repute," High Councilman Magomar began, stifling the thought, "I hardly think debating the research of the Explicators is the best use of your time. If they say the Sovereign is out of commission, and the raven that delivered the message didn't fall out of the sky, I daresay there isn't much reason to contemplate other alternatives. Besides, herein lies an opportunity: the cat is out of the bag, and the people turn to us for answers. Will you great them with a plan, or will well lead them like lemmings towards a particularly apocalyptic cliff?"
After a brief pause, Halfcliff responded thoughtfully, "... Is this about the academy again? The Men in Red are our greatest asset, if our resources are to be spent combatting these threats, they ought to be focused there, expanding the military, building fortifications - besides, the idea is a gamble anyways, the bill as designed won't compel service anyways."
"Councilman Halfcliff," the High Councilman returned, "While the pikes serve the people well, I fear there may be things ahead that cannot be stabbed, shot or beaten by mere men. Who are we to presume the forces arrayed against us will follow our rules, meet our forts head on, and fight in a way that the Men and Red excel at crushing. Times are changing, and the Era of Man seems to have met its end in by way of an empty chair. Heck, some of our own troops don't even use the paths we have, and we tell them to be... unorthodox."
"If you suggest letting Trogs throw fireballs, I'll shi-" Rumlot began, his complexion closing in on "lobster."
"No, don't be a fool, though we can likely equip them better for the days ahead. The academy shall primarily be the realm of man and elf, of course. If anyone else has the aptitude, they'll of course be allowed in, but anyone more liable to eat the books than read them won't be tolerated." Shaking his head, the councilman continued, "Councilors, what can bolts do against a creature made of water, or air? What can the Pikes do against a force that may steal the earth from the very ground? Our finest are, well, the finest, but what the republic needs is a robust response to a world that is changing far faster than any of us could imagine. And for this, the only remedies are magic, prayer, or being intolerably lucky. Prayer is gone, and luck is sure to follow. The way is clear, and we have many citizens ready to lead the charge. The old copy of the bill still stands. I'd say you have about 20 minutes before the main door comes down and the riots begin. Do we have an agreement?"
Another round of mutterings takes entirely too long before the response becomes generally affirmative. A stone smashing into the nearby shutter helped matters along quite nicely, and the bill was soon signed by most of the gathered body.
"I hate when he gets like this," Rumlot grumbles, passing the affirmation around.
"We'll just have to see if this scheme of his pays off," Halfcliff says with a sigh. "We'll push for a more sensible agenda when the mood leaves him."
[[777 ADDLESON AVENUE, HAMMAR'S RISE]]
The Wondersmith contemplated his next prototype, idly stirring a black marble pestle around over the contents of a crudely finished mortar. Gretchen was sorting the mail, glancing up at him occasionally.A toad looked up at him from the desk, in the way toads do. It had a little shirt, that shined eerily in the lamplight.
"Their Majesties in the Guild have requested dues again. That's the third time this month, they must think I can't read," Gretchen said with a huff.
The craftman arched a brow, and the toad was suddenly on a neighboring desk, its shirt eventually found under a discarded chair. "Oh, send it anyway. It's not like they're making any money otherwise."
The toad peed on a quick sketch of a wall covered in arms. The arms squirmed under the onslaught. Gretchen passed over the banknote to sign.
"Damn," the Wondersmith said, marking a broad, sweeping caricature of his name on the page, barely glancing at it. Pretty close, though. People will love to find a frog in their desk, especially when it's so well dressed.
The Wondersmith considered the statement, amidst the wreckage of a hundred prototypes lining the walls and vaulted ceiling of his workshop. "Pretty close indeed," he eventually agreed, working the problem as the lamps burned low...
ACTIONS:
1.) (USING 2 EP) The High Council of Gil-Galit have responded to the news of the absence of the gods with surprising fervor. In a bid to ostensibly prepare the populace for threats within and without their fair republic, a state sanctioned academy focusing on magic, sorcery, and their practical applications is to be constructed. The Acolytes of the Dark Philosopher will form an initial skeleton crew, as they've already been in communication with the High Councilman for some time, and letters will be sent to Archivum Kozan to ask/beg for explicators to aid in this endeavor (the Dark Philosopher and the Archivum have rather similar goals, so this isn't likely to be too hard of an ask). The hope is that the teaching of magic could be more formalized and accessible to those in the Republic, such that anyone with the gift for it may access the tutelage they require. This is to be accomplished by offering research grants to local mages in exchange for their time and expertise, constructing formal institutions in the primary city states (those that would likely pose as a hub for local commerce) for instruction, and otherwise keeping tuition low for those with demonstrable ability.
[EXPLICATORS SENT TO AID]
2.) [REDACTED]
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Scatterbrain
Trying really hard to stay focused
Harnald sat on a wooden chair within his tent as he penned a letter addressed to Negest Kiyan, warrior queen of Akthubit. He dabbed his quill into the inkwell that sat on his desk, covering its tip in black ink, before touching it to the parchment. He and the Company of the Oak had arrived in the area in search of employment and had pitched up a few tents and erected a small makeshift encampment a few miles outside the capital. Harnald was aware that Akthubit's natural wealth and strategic position made it a tempting target for others, especially those with often nefarious purposes, and wanted to offer the Company of the Oak's services to help defend its borders and interests.
Harnald could feel something scrambling up his back and, looking away from his letter, saw Rati sitting on his right shoulder. He reached up with his right hand to stroke the back of her head but the red squirrel wrestled his fingers away and, positioning herself to directly face his right ear, gave out a series of squeaks. His companion of many years, Harnald knew exactly what she was after and placed his quill into the inkwell before reaching down to a pouch he kept on his belt. Unfastening it slightly, he took out an acorn and passed it to Rati, who clasped it with her tiny fingers. She began gnawing feverishly away at it, her dextrous hands moving across it's exterior as she made frequent, small adjustments to her grip to better get at the meat that lay inside the nut's tough shell.
With Rati nibbling away happily, Harnald picked up his quill to continue his letter but after committing only a few more words to the page, Rati began squeaking again. He did his best to ignore her, hoping that she might show him some consideration and let him finish his letter but she wouldn't have any of it. The red squirrel began squeaking louder, then, grabbing handfuls of Harnald's hair, started tugging until he finally relented, grabbing the bag full of acorns from his belt and slapping them directly on the table in front of him. Rati raced down Harnald's arm from her spot on his shoulder, coming to a stop next to the pouch on the desk. Harnald noticed the remnants that Rati had left in her wake and wiped the dust and shell fragments away then turned his attention back to her.
"Are you happy now?" He asked the squirrel, a slight note of irritation in his voice. Rati temporarily ceased her gorging and looked up at Harnald with her big black eyes, apparently completely oblivious of her behaviour, before enthusiastically resuming her nutty feast. Harnald let out a sigh and shook his head then took up his quill again, hoping to finish his letter without any further interruptions.
Actions
1: Seek employment by offering the Company of the Oak's services to Negest Kiyan and the Kingdom of Akthubit.
2: Run the Company of the Oak through a series of combat drills to whip the newcomers into shape and keep the veteran's skills sharp.
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Trektek
Happy Necromancer
Throne of Heaven
Turn 1
Inziim
The Shielded Kingdom of Ysrendelle was a Kingdom nestled into a box canyon that inside was a beautiful and bountiful land. But now, it is surrounded by ASH and SALT, making it seem from the outside to be an inhospitable space. It became that way due to a betrayal of the most foul kind. It had been betrayed by one of its long time allies, The now The People’s Republic of Flaustan.
Inziim, long before he had become a lich, was on friendly terms with the previous regime. In fact, there had been many political marriages made over the generations to help secure a level of peace that had not been seen in other lands with other people.
But when the Revolt occurred, they not only attacked their own Kingdom, but also Ysrendelle as they had been close and it could almost be considered to have been as one.
Inziim’s hand was forced and he had to become a Lich in order to free his people from certain DEATH of the enemy nation. His parents had been killed in the attack when they had attempted to negotiate with Flaustan. Many Knights were killed, both human and elven.
It was commonly heard from the invaders that Ysrendelle was an abomination for not only raising undead, but also having intelligent undead living among them. But they were a people that was open to all. Which is why Humans, Elves and Intelligent Undead had lived in peace.
When Inziim completed the ritual to become a Lich, his most loyal remaining Knights and Warriors became Wights with him, to better protect the people. They all gave an ultimate sacrifice for the Kingdom and it is one that the people of the Kingdom still appreciate to this day.
The Day in question when Inziim and his Wights had given up their mortality and pushed back the invaders became a holiday known as The Day of Second Life. It has become a day where those that are living, show their appreciation and thanks for the Intelligent Undead for sacrificing their mortality to help keep them safe. Even for those that have no memories of their past lives as mortals.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------
It certainly started just like any other normal day in the Shielded Kingdom of Ysrendelle. Inziim readied himself in the morning at the start of the day. Of course as a Lich, he no longer needs to sleep, but he still must reprepare himself at the juncture of each new day. The routine to calming to him, especially as it was one that he had done back when he was a mortal.
After checking in on the workers around the castle grounds, Inziim would then travel into the town and talk among the people, hearing their problems. These days, he would hear the common complaints of lack of trade. Ever since the invasion had ruined the outside land, trade has been an issue, though it certainly has gotten ever worse as of late. He knew he would have to do something in order to remedy the situation so that his people can get back to thriving. Especially since they have a bountiful land. It is just obscured.
As Inziim was moving on to head out to the farmers, his day would be changed. A skeleton runner came up, huffing and puffing with letter in hand.
“Young lad, you know that you don’t breath anymore, so you don’t need to feel so exasperated in your running.”
The skeleton straightened himself up as he suddenly realized that that was the case. “I’m sorry my Lord. Sometimes I forget.”
Inziim placed a hand on his shoulder. “I understand. Don’t we all at one point or another? Now, what did you have there?”
“Oh right. I almost forgot. Sorry again my Lord.” He handed Inziim the scroll, which Inziim placed a coin in the man’s front shirt pocket and then unrolled the scroll.
“Think nothing of it. Thank you. Now you may return to the rest of your duties.”
The man bowed. “Yes, my lord.”
It was right there in print….,. The GODS are vanished. Hmm. That is intriguing to be sure. If the God Thrones are empty, others will be making a rush for them. But it will have to be him that will need to get to them first.
For now, he would have to contact this Nomolos. Especially since his lands are not too far away from his own.
Action1. Construct a Trading Outpost on the edge of the Ysrendelle Salt/Ash Fields. Set up an event of human and elven performers to attract traders with stands of Fresh Fruits and Vegetables to be sold as well to further entice TRADE.
Action 2: Inziim will investigate the Jotunheim Throne
Free Action: Sending a Letter to Kozan asking for a Trade Agreement with possible expansion into an alliance.
Turn 1
Inziim
The Shielded Kingdom of Ysrendelle was a Kingdom nestled into a box canyon that inside was a beautiful and bountiful land. But now, it is surrounded by ASH and SALT, making it seem from the outside to be an inhospitable space. It became that way due to a betrayal of the most foul kind. It had been betrayed by one of its long time allies, The now The People’s Republic of Flaustan.
Inziim, long before he had become a lich, was on friendly terms with the previous regime. In fact, there had been many political marriages made over the generations to help secure a level of peace that had not been seen in other lands with other people.
But when the Revolt occurred, they not only attacked their own Kingdom, but also Ysrendelle as they had been close and it could almost be considered to have been as one.
Inziim’s hand was forced and he had to become a Lich in order to free his people from certain DEATH of the enemy nation. His parents had been killed in the attack when they had attempted to negotiate with Flaustan. Many Knights were killed, both human and elven.
It was commonly heard from the invaders that Ysrendelle was an abomination for not only raising undead, but also having intelligent undead living among them. But they were a people that was open to all. Which is why Humans, Elves and Intelligent Undead had lived in peace.
When Inziim completed the ritual to become a Lich, his most loyal remaining Knights and Warriors became Wights with him, to better protect the people. They all gave an ultimate sacrifice for the Kingdom and it is one that the people of the Kingdom still appreciate to this day.
The Day in question when Inziim and his Wights had given up their mortality and pushed back the invaders became a holiday known as The Day of Second Life. It has become a day where those that are living, show their appreciation and thanks for the Intelligent Undead for sacrificing their mortality to help keep them safe. Even for those that have no memories of their past lives as mortals.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------
It certainly started just like any other normal day in the Shielded Kingdom of Ysrendelle. Inziim readied himself in the morning at the start of the day. Of course as a Lich, he no longer needs to sleep, but he still must reprepare himself at the juncture of each new day. The routine to calming to him, especially as it was one that he had done back when he was a mortal.
After checking in on the workers around the castle grounds, Inziim would then travel into the town and talk among the people, hearing their problems. These days, he would hear the common complaints of lack of trade. Ever since the invasion had ruined the outside land, trade has been an issue, though it certainly has gotten ever worse as of late. He knew he would have to do something in order to remedy the situation so that his people can get back to thriving. Especially since they have a bountiful land. It is just obscured.
As Inziim was moving on to head out to the farmers, his day would be changed. A skeleton runner came up, huffing and puffing with letter in hand.
“Young lad, you know that you don’t breath anymore, so you don’t need to feel so exasperated in your running.”
The skeleton straightened himself up as he suddenly realized that that was the case. “I’m sorry my Lord. Sometimes I forget.”
Inziim placed a hand on his shoulder. “I understand. Don’t we all at one point or another? Now, what did you have there?”
“Oh right. I almost forgot. Sorry again my Lord.” He handed Inziim the scroll, which Inziim placed a coin in the man’s front shirt pocket and then unrolled the scroll.
“Think nothing of it. Thank you. Now you may return to the rest of your duties.”
The man bowed. “Yes, my lord.”
It was right there in print….,. The GODS are vanished. Hmm. That is intriguing to be sure. If the God Thrones are empty, others will be making a rush for them. But it will have to be him that will need to get to them first.
For now, he would have to contact this Nomolos. Especially since his lands are not too far away from his own.
Action1. Construct a Trading Outpost on the edge of the Ysrendelle Salt/Ash Fields. Set up an event of human and elven performers to attract traders with stands of Fresh Fruits and Vegetables to be sold as well to further entice TRADE.
Action 2: Inziim will investigate the Jotunheim Throne
Free Action: Sending a Letter to Kozan asking for a Trade Agreement with possible expansion into an alliance.
LucasGhost
A lovely day in the demiplane of dread
Turn 1
He will, in fact, continue to die for eight more, until, finally, he sings his last note and his body comes to rest. It’s beautiful really. Tragic. His fate had been sealed in act two when he drank the poisoned cup of water that the assassin had left out for him. Every scene since then has brought these final few moments closer and closer. Now the cast onstage holds him upright as they sing, tears in their eyes as the characters they portray weep for the loss of this man as he struggles and grasps for a few more precious moments with the ones he holds dear.
For Alexander waiting in the wings, watching the end of the opera unfold, it is utter perfection. They had run through this part at least a hundred times, but never before tonight had they had their lead actor, Lord Montague Navarro, playing his part in the spotlight. It was as if he was born for this role, but Alexander knew that simply wasn’t true. No, he had seen Montague perform many times before as a member of the audience, and he played the part with the same unwavering conviction then as he sees unfolding before him now. The answer seemed simple: Montague Navarro was born to play every role.
If only he could be half as perfect.
Alexander had a slight blunder, a stumble, really, in his first scene. He pushed on through it though, and look at where he was now; waiting in the wings as the gleaming star of the show let his body collapse into rest and the choir sang mournfully of his “passing.” Within moments he was gathered up lovingly, and Montague Navarro was covered in a glittering, golden burial shroud. As one, the choir sang the last note as his body was held aloft over their heads and for a moment, just one moment, the world seemed to freeze. Then the spell was ended as the lights faded and the curtains closed as the applause roared out over the theater.
What a wonderful, giddy blur it was. The roar of the crowd, the bodies of the other cast members pressed in close as they all rushed onstage to take that well earned bow. Montage Navarro stood at the front, almost teetering over the very edge of the stage into the pit below as he gestured about for the audience to give their love to the cast and crew. With wide spread arms the stage lights caught his striking tattoos and he looked simply radiant as he himself took his bow to thunderous, heartfelt applause. In a perfect world this moment would never end.
But, it was not a perfect world; as such the curtains did finally close, cutting them off from the audience once and for all, though the applause showed no signs of stopping. Opening night to a full house and a standing ovation, oh yes, he could get used to this. Alexander meant to hurry home after the performance, he really did. But a quick chat with a few of his fellow cast members turned into lengthy discussions turned into oh me oh my where did the time fly? It had looked like everyone else had packed up and gone home by the time his friends excused themselves to go clean up and get some rest themselves, heading further into the now dark and otherwise deserted theater.
He never did like this place when it was silent and dark like this. L'Opéra du Coeur, the heart of Coalin, for how much time he’s spent here the past few weeks he really thought at some point he’d feel at home in this building, but no. He had made a few friends, sure, but most of the other performers never seemed to really talk, dead set on rehearsing every possible minute. He kept up the best he could, of course, he was a professional, after all. Still, he’d never worked with a troupe that was this determined before. It should have been encouraging, but it just made him feel odd. He was so caught up in his thoughts as he searched around for his bag that he almost didn’t notice the silhouette leaning in the doorway across the room. Almost, that is, if it weren’t for the fact that the figure was covered from head to toe in glitter and shiny fabrics, catching whatever dim light was back here and painting him like a phantom.
“Darling, I didn’t think anyone was still left back here, forget something?” The musical voice of none other than Montague Navarro rings out.
Something lurches in the pit of Alexander’s stomach, somewhere between butterflies and rocks. Montague Navarro, the Montague Navarro is talking. To him! He manages to stutter out as the man tilts his head in an obviously curious look, “No, I ah, I just lost track of time, is all.”
“Alex is it? I don’t think I’ve seen you very often, darling,” Montague Navarro hums as he slowly walks over, every movement fluid and light, the sheer color and style of him makes Alexander’s head swim just trying to take him in.
“Um, Alexander, and I, well, this is my first show with O. M., it’s just a temporary position. Since the crowd and fight scenes are so big. Not that, not that you wouldn’t already know that, of course,” Alexander gives a weak laugh.
“Darling, I would simply love to bring you on as a permanent member of my troupe. There’s just one tiny little thing I need you to do for me first,” Montague Navarro grinned, a hand resting comfortably on his shoulder.
“Erm, sure! Yeah! What’s that?” Alexander could hardly believe his ears, a grin stretching across his face.
“Hold still,” and there was a hand firmly around his throat followed by a sickening crack and the tell-tale thud of a body collapsing onto the old wooden flooring of the opera house.
Montague rolls his shoulders as he feels more than sees as the young man’s limbs tense and flex, slowly pushing himself back up to his feet. There was no sway when he stood, no sign of his recent fall or snapped neck. Excellent, it was always a good day when his intuition turned out to be correct.
“My dear, it looks like you had a bit of a stumble, do you think you’ll be alright?” Montague gives the corpse a careful once over, straightening out his shirt collar and brushing a bit of dirt off of his pants.
The body that was once Alexander gives a sheepish smile in return, “Oh don’t mind me Lord Montague sir, I don’t think I’ll be so clumsy again. It’s terribly kind of you to care so very much.”
“In that case my dear Alexander, why don’t you help clean up and go join your friends. Don’t spare a single thought about the things in your apartment, I’ll have someone bring them over for you first thing tomorrow morning,” Montague gives him a light pat on the back as Alexander walks off with all the joy of having met the truly wondrous and one of a kind Montague Navarro.
Montague gives a happy little hum as he goes off to fetch his hat and cloak. Down in the cellar of L'Opéra du Coeur Alexander was making himself at home with all of his friends. Yes, what a good day after all, despite that little slip up, he had a new actor in his cast and he was absolutely certain that this run of Antonio Gutiérrez would be an instant hit with the critics. After all how could it not be with him as the leading role?
“Oh let your spring come,
with your floods and droughts.
Let your flowers wither and bloom,
picked by the daintiest hands on the finest days.
Let the winds guide your wrath and let the people cower in fear.
Yes, yes!
Fear!
For there is a beast that awakens!”
Montague breaks out in a delighted laugh, suddenly feeling rather giddy despite the late hour and dreary weather that lies outside of his beloved theater. With a flourish he dons his hat and cloak and opens the door to see Coalin, his city in blue. A city made just for him. With a grin Montague Navarro delivers his line with all the drama it deserves,
“And we say let it come!”
Action 1: A Different Kind of Play. The Era of Man is at an end! Tragically, lots of men currently live in Coalin, and as such some force must be brought together to keep the city safe from outside threats and maintain their way of life. Montague will use his status, talents as a puppeteer, and economic power of Coalin to put on a grand play that romanticizes being a member of a proud city's militia. Throughout the season, either through commission or relying on those who simply wish to copy success, other plays will be written following the same theme. Comedies and dramas where there's happy endings for all involved, how sweet. Recruitment drives for the city's militia will start being sponsored at every fair, and easy carnival games that show really, it takes such little skill to do this and wouldn't it be nice to get paid while you're at it? (Trying to increase Coalin's military power.)
Action 2: An Opera in Gold! Montague takes himself and his troupe to Akthubit to perform on their stage. A talented actor such as himself uses his Air magic to transport himself and his troupe, as well as put on a display for his arrival. First impressions are everything, darling! (Details of what this will entail are sent to the DM.)
Free Action? Sent to DM.
Diplomacy: There's been an awful buzz from the forest to the west as of late, best go and take a look before people start going missing.
Last edited:
Arnalia
Member
Turn 1
⌜۞⌟☾ Kiyan Taric ☽⌞۞⌝
⌜۞⌟☾ Kiyan Taric ☽⌞۞⌝
Action 1 : Improve military and form a new unit in charge of internal security.
Action 2 : Use Life power to improve agriculture and make new plants.
⌟⌜۞⌟⌜۞⌟⌜۞⌟Order Details⌞۞⌝⌞۞⌝⌞۞⌝⌞
Kiyan spend a good chunk of resources to improve her overall army. Use 2 gold for this. If splitting focus will lower quality then concentrate solely on the new internal security unit. (Aim is to pass from military 1 to 2 while making the new squad. Like just recruiting and training units I already have while also making brand new ones. If not possible to do both without losing on quality then concentrate all on the brand new regiment)
She concentrate on forming a new units named "The Lion's eyes" in charge of protecting Akthubit from any cover threats. Spies, assassins, leakers, corrupt Royal workers and nobles, infiltrators, everything that cannot be dealt with so openly. Such as organization or people trying to establish themselves into Akthubit without permission (or with suspicious intend) or any person of interest coming from Nurbellium. The aim is to make them her eyes and ears. Their duty being to report everything of interest happening in Akthubit to her aka spy, sabotage, assassination if necessary, find (or make) proof of misdeeds, deal in counter intelligence and nip any threat in the bud ect.
The most loyal and skilled are chosen to lead and watch over this new unit. It doesn't matter if the chosen are very few. What matter is that they are fit for the job. The unit is not expected to be big or operational at first. Just able to lay the groundwork so it can be grown. The candidates are people ready to die rather then spill anything they know and willing to get their hand dirty. No expense is spared to make sure that the first member will be able to do their work. And most importantly, form the rest to come to be competent and utterly loyal to Kiyan once the unit is firmly established.
After being created and trained. The Lion's eyes will be ordered to disperse into Akthubit and start to blend in. Kiyan expect them to regularly report to her (using a code) and keep her informed of anything. Information prefered to be told by Rpnation DM.
Dest
The Sane One
CHEPURA
Turn 1
“Loser, completely worthless,” James sneered down at her as he spoke, his youthful face turned into a mimicry of his father. He lashed out with a kick that connected to her stomach, taking away her breath and causing her to curl up even tighter into a ball. She felt something wet hit her face as he spat down at her, and laughter echoed around them as his friends took joy out of her pain. “No wonder your parents abandoned you here, no one would want some useless bitch like you!”
“Yea, I heard your mother whored herself out to half the village before she left,” Another boy, Rodney, chimed in from the side with a look of sadistic glee. “Maybe she wanted a kid that would be worth something this time!”
More laughter, more pain as blows came from all around her now, kicks and jeers forming into an endless wall of hurt. It was all she could do to keep her head held between her hands and her stomach protected as they attacked her. It was only as they grew bored that they left, one by one giving her a final kick or insult and wandering off. It wasn’t until only James was left that he reached down and grabbed her by the hair, forcing her to look him in the face as he spoke.
“I don’t know why you bother to stick around here you worthless bitch, why don’t you just wander into the forest and die like the rest of the animals,” He spat on her face once more to punctuate his words, throwing her to the ground once he was done and wandering off.
Slowly she pushed herself to her feet, her skin a mass of bruises, both old and new, and cuts that slowly leaked blood. With stuttering steps, she forced herself to continue to walk to her destination, the alley that she called home. As she grew close to it, however, something changed within her mind, and she walked past it, past the homes that made up the village, past the walls that protected it from beasts and raiders, and past the furthest fields that held the food that sustained the peaceful life. And she took her first step into the forest that surrounded it all.
Hours passed as she stumbled on, falls near constant as her feet caught the roots of trees and creeping vines. All around her squirrels chittered, birds chirped, and she could faintly hear larger beasts far into the distance. Finally, her strength failed her, and the girl fell at the base of a large tree in the middle of a beautiful clearing. Even as she lay there, exhaustion weighing heavily upon her, she stared to the sky and watched as the motes of pollen danced in the air. The girl closed her eyes, and for the first time in years tears fell from them.
She knew not how long she stayed there, only that eventually it grew colder and colder as day turned to night. She felt as much as heard bugs begin to settle on her, mosquitos sucking her blood and flies landing on the wounds that still coated her. And then, something new came, something that sent a primal fear through her soul.
“weLL, wElL, weLL, WhaT HaS WAnDeRed So deEp Into mY ForESt?” A grating, inhuman voice echoed around the clearing, causing the girls eyes to shoot open as her head spun trying to find the source. “a huMan? WHy, sucH A tHiNG BElonGS To thE cItIeS and tOwns tHat PolLuTe aNd DestROy MY beAutiFul CReatIonS, noT To tHeIr hOme. Ah, buT thERe seEMs tO bE sOmeThInG sPEciaL aBout yOu, SOmeTHinG tHAt InTereSTs Me GrEaTlY.” Before the girls eyes a mass of bugs larger than any she had ever seen seemed to appear, the mass swarming in an ever shifting pattern. Before her eyes a mouth formed from them, and the voice seemed to come from it. “YEs, I Can taStE iT. A pieCE of The DivInE ReStS wiThIn YoU. PerHApS yOu WiLL Be usEfUL FOr SOmEThinG. of cOuRsE, thINgS Must ChanGE FirSt.”
Before the girl could react, the bugs swarmed forward, pressing against her skin and filling her mouth as the sound of their buzzing began to swell louder and louder. All around her she could hear what almost sounded like laughter, the being that had found her seeming to find glee in the pain she could feel. She could feel her vision begin to darken, and the voice that had spoken whispered in her ear.
“I Am tHe TitaNeSs CHePuRa, aNd You Are my FirSt stEp To rEclAiMIng My LosT POwEr lITtle GodLiNG. i MarK you my sUCcESsOr, ANd FOrCe uPOn yOu My wILl. fRom ThIs Day fORth, YoUr bODy aND SOuL Are MIne,” As the final word was spoken, the girls vision went dark.
She knew not how long she had been unconscious, only that she could feel something wrong as she awoke. Her eyes opened slowly, and she stared in horror as she realized that she was not where she had been before. All around her was darkness, nothing but short wisps of white light appearing for a bare moment.
“HMm, YoUR SOul Has nOt bEEn CrusHeD By My ContROl?” The same voice seemed to echo around the girl, and it was only now that she realized that chains surrounded her and kept her from moving. “intEReStIng, ThEn i sUPpoSe i WiLl alLOw YoU to WatcH My ReaSCenSIoN LiTtlE GodLInG.”
The girl could only stare in shock, watching as a pair of lights seemed to appear in front of her and she could once more see the outside world. Before her were the burning remains of a very familiar village and around her massive insects flowed, eating the running villagers and ripping them to shreds before her eyes. Tears once more began to flow down her face, and she wept as she realized that the voice, the titaness, had taken her as a puppet. She had left her village, seeking control of the one thing that she truly could. And now? Now that part of her had been ripped away, and she would be forced to watch as it grew ever further from her C̴͚̯͉̾o̷̬͈̠͇̻͌͋͊n̷̦̅̈̈̋t̵̢̯͈̥͉͙̎̂̓͗̓r̴͓̩͈̿̓o̷̯̗̞̹̟̥̐̔̈́̇͒l̴̩͕͐.
Turn 1
“Loser, completely worthless,” James sneered down at her as he spoke, his youthful face turned into a mimicry of his father. He lashed out with a kick that connected to her stomach, taking away her breath and causing her to curl up even tighter into a ball. She felt something wet hit her face as he spat down at her, and laughter echoed around them as his friends took joy out of her pain. “No wonder your parents abandoned you here, no one would want some useless bitch like you!”
“Yea, I heard your mother whored herself out to half the village before she left,” Another boy, Rodney, chimed in from the side with a look of sadistic glee. “Maybe she wanted a kid that would be worth something this time!”
More laughter, more pain as blows came from all around her now, kicks and jeers forming into an endless wall of hurt. It was all she could do to keep her head held between her hands and her stomach protected as they attacked her. It was only as they grew bored that they left, one by one giving her a final kick or insult and wandering off. It wasn’t until only James was left that he reached down and grabbed her by the hair, forcing her to look him in the face as he spoke.
“I don’t know why you bother to stick around here you worthless bitch, why don’t you just wander into the forest and die like the rest of the animals,” He spat on her face once more to punctuate his words, throwing her to the ground once he was done and wandering off.
Slowly she pushed herself to her feet, her skin a mass of bruises, both old and new, and cuts that slowly leaked blood. With stuttering steps, she forced herself to continue to walk to her destination, the alley that she called home. As she grew close to it, however, something changed within her mind, and she walked past it, past the homes that made up the village, past the walls that protected it from beasts and raiders, and past the furthest fields that held the food that sustained the peaceful life. And she took her first step into the forest that surrounded it all.
Hours passed as she stumbled on, falls near constant as her feet caught the roots of trees and creeping vines. All around her squirrels chittered, birds chirped, and she could faintly hear larger beasts far into the distance. Finally, her strength failed her, and the girl fell at the base of a large tree in the middle of a beautiful clearing. Even as she lay there, exhaustion weighing heavily upon her, she stared to the sky and watched as the motes of pollen danced in the air. The girl closed her eyes, and for the first time in years tears fell from them.
She knew not how long she stayed there, only that eventually it grew colder and colder as day turned to night. She felt as much as heard bugs begin to settle on her, mosquitos sucking her blood and flies landing on the wounds that still coated her. And then, something new came, something that sent a primal fear through her soul.
“weLL, wElL, weLL, WhaT HaS WAnDeRed So deEp Into mY ForESt?” A grating, inhuman voice echoed around the clearing, causing the girls eyes to shoot open as her head spun trying to find the source. “a huMan? WHy, sucH A tHiNG BElonGS To thE cItIeS and tOwns tHat PolLuTe aNd DestROy MY beAutiFul CReatIonS, noT To tHeIr hOme. Ah, buT thERe seEMs tO bE sOmeThInG sPEciaL aBout yOu, SOmeTHinG tHAt InTereSTs Me GrEaTlY.” Before the girls eyes a mass of bugs larger than any she had ever seen seemed to appear, the mass swarming in an ever shifting pattern. Before her eyes a mouth formed from them, and the voice seemed to come from it. “YEs, I Can taStE iT. A pieCE of The DivInE ReStS wiThIn YoU. PerHApS yOu WiLL Be usEfUL FOr SOmEThinG. of cOuRsE, thINgS Must ChanGE FirSt.”
Before the girl could react, the bugs swarmed forward, pressing against her skin and filling her mouth as the sound of their buzzing began to swell louder and louder. All around her she could hear what almost sounded like laughter, the being that had found her seeming to find glee in the pain she could feel. She could feel her vision begin to darken, and the voice that had spoken whispered in her ear.
“I Am tHe TitaNeSs CHePuRa, aNd You Are my FirSt stEp To rEclAiMIng My LosT POwEr lITtle GodLiNG. i MarK you my sUCcESsOr, ANd FOrCe uPOn yOu My wILl. fRom ThIs Day fORth, YoUr bODy aND SOuL Are MIne,” As the final word was spoken, the girls vision went dark.
She knew not how long she had been unconscious, only that she could feel something wrong as she awoke. Her eyes opened slowly, and she stared in horror as she realized that she was not where she had been before. All around her was darkness, nothing but short wisps of white light appearing for a bare moment.
“HMm, YoUR SOul Has nOt bEEn CrusHeD By My ContROl?” The same voice seemed to echo around the girl, and it was only now that she realized that chains surrounded her and kept her from moving. “intEReStIng, ThEn i sUPpoSe i WiLl alLOw YoU to WatcH My ReaSCenSIoN LiTtlE GodLInG.”
The girl could only stare in shock, watching as a pair of lights seemed to appear in front of her and she could once more see the outside world. Before her were the burning remains of a very familiar village and around her massive insects flowed, eating the running villagers and ripping them to shreds before her eyes. Tears once more began to flow down her face, and she wept as she realized that the voice, the titaness, had taken her as a puppet. She had left her village, seeking control of the one thing that she truly could. And now? Now that part of her had been ripped away, and she would be forced to watch as it grew ever further from her C̴͚̯͉̾o̷̬͈̠͇̻͌͋͊n̷̦̅̈̈̋t̵̢̯͈̥͉͙̎̂̓͗̓r̴͓̩͈̿̓o̷̯̗̞̹̟̥̐̔̈́̇͒l̴̩͕͐.
Actions
1. Gather information about the area surrounding Hivehome
2. Attempt to create an insect that extends the range of Perk : Thousand Eyes, Thousand Antenna, Thousand Minds using blood magic
1. Gather information about the area surrounding Hivehome
2. Attempt to create an insect that extends the range of Perk : Thousand Eyes, Thousand Antenna, Thousand Minds using blood magic
Cosmo
Does Not Know Kung-fu
Ryx
Turn 1
Auriel Maza
Paranoid dictatorships were an interesting thing. Creating shell organizations in a place highly regulated is difficult to do if they want to go through legal channels as such things are tightly controlled. But when the fist is closed, the harder some squirm, so forgers willing and able to create documents that can fool them becomes available. Inspectors that should be looking out for forgers often take bribes especially when they're in charge of importation, what better way to get goods they miss from the outside world that is now denied to them? Flaustan may seem like an iron solid regime that has control from the top up, but corruption is rampant. Small, common place things.. looking the other way, bribes to supplement low 'incomes', it is almost its own world. However, it is a dangerous world for it doesn't take much for people to turn each other in for short term gains. To undercut a rival by turning them over to the various secret police of Kornith.. Especially among the very young, and most easily indoctrinated.
While forgeries of being 'High Inquisitors', an organization that did not actually exist under Kornith and if its existence became aware to the Supreme Leader, everyone belonging to it would be brutally, and publicly, disposed of, were made... The Word find they almost never need to use them. The people had become so used to the various enforcers of the Supreme Leader that all the Word had to do was look tough, sound important, wave a few papers around and they'd keep their eyes down and make themselves look small for fear of 'disappearing' or being sent to reeducation camps. It was a bit funny, in a sad way. Kornith had crushed the will to fight of so many people in the effort to hold onto power that no one would challenge those that would actually undermine it. While the majority of the trade is still 'controlled' and regulated, the Word has managed to secure 'loyal' [more so terrified] contacts in the logistical chain that would give them access to some of the wealth flowing through the nation. Gain 1 EP. Trade with outside nations, as the Word, is now possible and items can be freely smuggled in [within reason, try to bring in too much at once and someone may notice].
However, as the Word have figured out how easy it is to bully and intimidate the locals into getting what they need, so to has the seedier elements of Flaustan. Perhaps it is fitting that the Word is seeking to try and bring them in into the fold, but that part has not gone as swimmingly. There is now conflict in the shadows as the Word, and the various crime gangs, use fake identifications, whistle blowing and intimidation to constantly change warehouses and territory. The fighting is not especially bloody, at least yet, but there is the risk that one of the actual secret police may notice.
The biggest blow to the attempts to control the underworld come when one of the crime bosses, with connections to a Talirus Senator, manages to kill his doppleganger that Ryx had sent in to replace him.. This has given rise to the idea that their foe has Dopplegangers. Which, while not technically true, is close. The High Inquisitors, the largest and most successful 'shell organization' the word has set up has been approached by the gang with an offer... The senator is seeking to gain popularity for his planned run for Consul, and for that, he needs to show a military victory, akin to the days of old, he will offer support, through the criminals, for The Sword of the King in the way of arms and coin, however, when the rebellion kicks off, a Talirus legion will invade and take a portion of southern Flaustan and join it into Talirus. Should the rebellion win, they will officially cede the taken region to Talirus.
Decision Point
1. Agree to the senators offer
2. Reject the senators offer
3. Attempt to negotiate [Can edit in or dm me the counter offer]
4. Your idea.
EDIT:
The deal has been accepted. The Word gains 2 MP and 1 EP, in addition, the Tribune Diana Carina is smuggled in to train the rebels of the Sword of the King and try to turn them into proper killers. While you have the Tribune, she can be used in scenes and is a Heroic unit.
Turn 1
Auriel Maza
Paranoid dictatorships were an interesting thing. Creating shell organizations in a place highly regulated is difficult to do if they want to go through legal channels as such things are tightly controlled. But when the fist is closed, the harder some squirm, so forgers willing and able to create documents that can fool them becomes available. Inspectors that should be looking out for forgers often take bribes especially when they're in charge of importation, what better way to get goods they miss from the outside world that is now denied to them? Flaustan may seem like an iron solid regime that has control from the top up, but corruption is rampant. Small, common place things.. looking the other way, bribes to supplement low 'incomes', it is almost its own world. However, it is a dangerous world for it doesn't take much for people to turn each other in for short term gains. To undercut a rival by turning them over to the various secret police of Kornith.. Especially among the very young, and most easily indoctrinated.
While forgeries of being 'High Inquisitors', an organization that did not actually exist under Kornith and if its existence became aware to the Supreme Leader, everyone belonging to it would be brutally, and publicly, disposed of, were made... The Word find they almost never need to use them. The people had become so used to the various enforcers of the Supreme Leader that all the Word had to do was look tough, sound important, wave a few papers around and they'd keep their eyes down and make themselves look small for fear of 'disappearing' or being sent to reeducation camps. It was a bit funny, in a sad way. Kornith had crushed the will to fight of so many people in the effort to hold onto power that no one would challenge those that would actually undermine it. While the majority of the trade is still 'controlled' and regulated, the Word has managed to secure 'loyal' [more so terrified] contacts in the logistical chain that would give them access to some of the wealth flowing through the nation. Gain 1 EP. Trade with outside nations, as the Word, is now possible and items can be freely smuggled in [within reason, try to bring in too much at once and someone may notice].
However, as the Word have figured out how easy it is to bully and intimidate the locals into getting what they need, so to has the seedier elements of Flaustan. Perhaps it is fitting that the Word is seeking to try and bring them in into the fold, but that part has not gone as swimmingly. There is now conflict in the shadows as the Word, and the various crime gangs, use fake identifications, whistle blowing and intimidation to constantly change warehouses and territory. The fighting is not especially bloody, at least yet, but there is the risk that one of the actual secret police may notice.
The biggest blow to the attempts to control the underworld come when one of the crime bosses, with connections to a Talirus Senator, manages to kill his doppleganger that Ryx had sent in to replace him.. This has given rise to the idea that their foe has Dopplegangers. Which, while not technically true, is close. The High Inquisitors, the largest and most successful 'shell organization' the word has set up has been approached by the gang with an offer... The senator is seeking to gain popularity for his planned run for Consul, and for that, he needs to show a military victory, akin to the days of old, he will offer support, through the criminals, for The Sword of the King in the way of arms and coin, however, when the rebellion kicks off, a Talirus legion will invade and take a portion of southern Flaustan and join it into Talirus. Should the rebellion win, they will officially cede the taken region to Talirus.
Decision Point
1. Agree to the senators offer
2. Reject the senators offer
3. Attempt to negotiate [Can edit in or dm me the counter offer]
4. Your idea.
EDIT:
The deal has been accepted. The Word gains 2 MP and 1 EP, in addition, the Tribune Diana Carina is smuggled in to train the rebels of the Sword of the King and try to turn them into proper killers. While you have the Tribune, she can be used in scenes and is a Heroic unit.
Last edited:
Cosmo
Does Not Know Kung-fu
Nomolos of Kozan
Turn 1
Crocodile
The adventure into the Temple of the Dragon Empire had been quite the exercise and they had come quite close to oblivion.. But they had learned much, and that was certainly the most important part of the journey. Insight and knowledge of ancient architecture and art had been gleaned and that was worth more then any material gain, although the gems and axe was certainly nice to have as well. Still, knowledge of the Dragon Emperor's Awakening was not ideal, and it held some proof to the notion that the Sovereign was truly gone, but more over, it had grim tidings. How many other threats were out there? Just waiting for the Sovereign to disappear? How many others had been banished and locked away and were now free to run amok with the jailor gone? But, perhaps even worse, if the Dragon Emperor had set some preparation for his rise, how did he know the Sovereign would vanish? Was there something more at hand? Nomolos had met both Amon of the First City and Han Liuyang of the Silver City. It was almost like the Triad of the City-States, in a way. Still, how much could he trust either of them and they both seemed to have considerable power, perhaps worth looking into at another time.
While reading in the library, perhaps to take his mind off of more pressing, world threatening issues, Nomolos came upon a book called the Window into the Mountain. It spoke of a small portal that would be opening up to the Realm of Earth nearby.. such an occurrence was said to happen once a century, so simply had to be investigated so he could record it for future scholars.. The trip wasn't long, in fact, it seemed to be on the way to the meeting with the Dwarf King. He arrived just as the portal was opening.. The gold and brown portal into another plane of existence, the bubbling current of raw magic.. As Nomolos looked and recorded, he felt something. A pull.. And an idea formed in his head..
Decision Point
1. Siphon power from the portal
2. Try to lure and bind a creature from the Realm of Earth
3. Try to stabilize the portal
4. Do nothing, watch and record.
The meeting with the dwarves does not go as well as Nomolos hoped. They seem almost.. determined to wither and die, as this is some last, defiant act of spite for the world they see that has left them to rot. Despite the logical, or impassioned, debates of Nomolos, the Dwarf King sits resolute in their isolation. No progress on an alliance was gained... However, the dwarves of Kozan and Kozan's own favorable history with their kind keeps any diplomatic incidents from happening. The Dwarves don't seem to be entirely keen on an 'open trade', but do seem open to selling arms and armor to Kozen, and Kozen alone, for precious metals and gemstones which is better then nothing..
The communication stones are easily made by Nomolos, each one having a pair.. If Nomolos keeps all the 'pairs' and hands out the other, he could easily fashion a communication network with himself at the center.
Turn 1
Crocodile
The adventure into the Temple of the Dragon Empire had been quite the exercise and they had come quite close to oblivion.. But they had learned much, and that was certainly the most important part of the journey. Insight and knowledge of ancient architecture and art had been gleaned and that was worth more then any material gain, although the gems and axe was certainly nice to have as well. Still, knowledge of the Dragon Emperor's Awakening was not ideal, and it held some proof to the notion that the Sovereign was truly gone, but more over, it had grim tidings. How many other threats were out there? Just waiting for the Sovereign to disappear? How many others had been banished and locked away and were now free to run amok with the jailor gone? But, perhaps even worse, if the Dragon Emperor had set some preparation for his rise, how did he know the Sovereign would vanish? Was there something more at hand? Nomolos had met both Amon of the First City and Han Liuyang of the Silver City. It was almost like the Triad of the City-States, in a way. Still, how much could he trust either of them and they both seemed to have considerable power, perhaps worth looking into at another time.
While reading in the library, perhaps to take his mind off of more pressing, world threatening issues, Nomolos came upon a book called the Window into the Mountain. It spoke of a small portal that would be opening up to the Realm of Earth nearby.. such an occurrence was said to happen once a century, so simply had to be investigated so he could record it for future scholars.. The trip wasn't long, in fact, it seemed to be on the way to the meeting with the Dwarf King. He arrived just as the portal was opening.. The gold and brown portal into another plane of existence, the bubbling current of raw magic.. As Nomolos looked and recorded, he felt something. A pull.. And an idea formed in his head..
Decision Point
1. Siphon power from the portal
2. Try to lure and bind a creature from the Realm of Earth
3. Try to stabilize the portal
4. Do nothing, watch and record.
The meeting with the dwarves does not go as well as Nomolos hoped. They seem almost.. determined to wither and die, as this is some last, defiant act of spite for the world they see that has left them to rot. Despite the logical, or impassioned, debates of Nomolos, the Dwarf King sits resolute in their isolation. No progress on an alliance was gained... However, the dwarves of Kozan and Kozan's own favorable history with their kind keeps any diplomatic incidents from happening. The Dwarves don't seem to be entirely keen on an 'open trade', but do seem open to selling arms and armor to Kozen, and Kozen alone, for precious metals and gemstones which is better then nothing..
The communication stones are easily made by Nomolos, each one having a pair.. If Nomolos keeps all the 'pairs' and hands out the other, he could easily fashion a communication network with himself at the center.
Eliasdagood
Golden ball of bloody cuteness
Farator, King of Aventalor
Farator nods, finishing his missive to Nomolos, and curling up the leather. He has isolated in meditation and experimentation for long enough. Now it is time to act. The thrones should be a priority, that much is obvious. To that end, he must seek out diplomacy with Mhorgan Ryu, as well as it's sister nation, Valin. A strong sea god would benefit all of their nations, he simply needs to convince them that he can represent them effectively as a deity. He has faith in that. He has a large territory, and it is kept organized, safe and effective at meeting the needs of its current citizens.
Actions
Farator himself will go to Mhorgan Ryu, for diplomacy and negotiation regarding their throne.
Delegations will be sent to Talirus and the Abylid Caliph to attempt trade negotiations, and introduce Aventalor as a nation.
Farator nods, finishing his missive to Nomolos, and curling up the leather. He has isolated in meditation and experimentation for long enough. Now it is time to act. The thrones should be a priority, that much is obvious. To that end, he must seek out diplomacy with Mhorgan Ryu, as well as it's sister nation, Valin. A strong sea god would benefit all of their nations, he simply needs to convince them that he can represent them effectively as a deity. He has faith in that. He has a large territory, and it is kept organized, safe and effective at meeting the needs of its current citizens.
Actions
Farator himself will go to Mhorgan Ryu, for diplomacy and negotiation regarding their throne.
Delegations will be sent to Talirus and the Abylid Caliph to attempt trade negotiations, and introduce Aventalor as a nation.
Wew the Polymath
Viridescent Expo Curator
Jade fire screamed through the bog, leaving putrid steam in its wake. It managed to char a small throng of heavily armed goblins, much to the chagrin of Jek. He watched from afar with his antique telescope, which he quickly snapped shut with a frustrated grunt. The knight was having a bad day. This was the third time that blasted serpent had broken his formation. Goblins made for fickle units. When they worked, they worked extremely well. But when something bad happened, they became almost useless.
On the scarred battlefield, a massive serpent with scintillating scales leered from behind a cloud of toxic gas. The bog was littered with hundreds of goblin corpses- most of which were burnt or melted beyond recognition. The toxic gas cloud followed the serpent as it slithered through the wet muck. The few goblin soldiers that remained on the field were cowering behind rocks. Some cried. Others contemplated falling on their own blades. A lone human warrior staggered towards the serpent, drunkenly assuming a fighting stance. Blood dripped from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth as the gas took effect on him. He gazed at the serpent’s face and saw himself reflected in peculiar compound eyes. Like an animal facing a great predator, he froze. The insectoid mouth of the serpent opened to reveal a mosquito-like probuscus. What happened next is best not repeated.
Jek watched this all from afar through his telescope. As he gazed at the field, furrowing his brow, the serpent stared back at him. It knew he was watching. Jek’s heartbeat sped up. He closed his telescope and shook his head. The feeling of deep fear possessed his guts. The other leaders of this excursion looked equally uneasy.
“We need to fall back” he uttered, his face paling as he realized this thing would be following them as long as it could.
The next few weeks could only be described as hell. Jek gathered his remaining troops and marched them through the bog, back to the blacksteel keep. A forced march with a primarily goblin force was almost impossible. Some outright refused to continue, which shattered the morale of the others. Jek’s screaming and vivid threats of a serpent-death were the only thing keeping the forced march going. He knew if they slipped up, even a little, the serpent would be on them.
“Ten minutes of rest per hour marching” was the adage that Jek’s superiors had taught him. He dreaded those ten minutes more than he dreaded the march itself. When everyone was moving, he felt like he was getting away from the serpent. When everyone was still, he felt a pressure in his head. It felt like every snapped branch or muck-bubble popping would herald the end of his force. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the serpent gazing at him. He would sometimes look to the trees and see the branches writhing like snakes.
The mental toll on Jek would cause him to zone out, staring bleary-eyed into the darkness. About a week in, a goblin snapped him out of one of his episodes by tugging on his pant leg. It pointed at another goblin standing on a rock- ranting about how they should just give up and worship the snake. Jek wanted to vomit. He had his marshals kill the traitor and everyone who agreed with him. They carved the symbol of Gawain into the corpses and left them for the snake to find.
After a couple weeks of sleep deprivation Jek dropped from exhaustion. When he awoke, he was surrounded by the corpses of his men. The only thing he saw in the distance was the serpent slithering off. It was impossibly large now. He ran over to the corpses of his martials. They had brain matter leaking from their face- no doubt from the serpent’s gas. Jek was resigned to his fate for the next week. He trudged through the swamp. He set up camp, slept, hunted, and ate as though there was no serpent. What was the point? He lost his entire fighting force. Death was almost preferable to facing the other knights when he returned. “This is why they never gave me blacksteel,” he bitterly thought to himself.
He chose to continue for the simple fact that he had to warn his people. The serpent was massive now. It was likely growing with each soul it took.
Eventually Jek made it back to the sprawling tent city that surrounded the blacksteel keep. They were in the midst of a celebration. Barbarian warcheifs swaggered through the city loot and slaves in tow. The scent of charred hydra wafted through the city, and drum music echoed through the streets. Jek pitched his tent at the outskirts of the city and wandered to the center of the celebration. A huge hydra was being roasted and everyone was taking bits of it. Jek grabbed a skewer and chowed down. A woman approached him and lasciviously touched him. “Were you part of the raids, sir knight?” She cooed, stroking his knightly braids woven with sinew. When he looked in her eyes, he saw the compound-eyes of the snake. With a grunt he turned and stormed away. The spurned woman shrugged and mingled with other knights.
The blacksteel keep loomed over this celebration. It was an odd sight in such a primitive dwelling. It was made from impossibly expensive metal by impossibly talented craftsmen. Gargoyles perched on the ledges of the keep- some living, some not. This place was the apotheosis of a lost society. It was utterly alien in these lands, yet it felt safe to Jek. It had been a long time since he’d ventured inside. The blacksteel knights and steel-sculptors considered themselves “better” than the common barbarians. Outsiders self segregated- knowing the denizens that dwelt within were not to be trifled wtih. Despite the “us versus them” mentality, many knights and barbarians loved the keep and worhsipped the gargoyles inside as beacons of strength and prosperity.
Jek nervously approached an entrance to the sprawling keep and dipped inside. Each step echoed through the claustrophobic halls. The place felt…dead inside. The air was stale and everything was scrubbed to sterile perfection. Jek’s head curiously stopped buzzing, though. He no longer saw the serpent in the darkness, and for once could think clearly.
The tight hall gave way to a small antechamber, where a few blacksteel knights were playing cards by candlelight. They all turned to look at Jek, some with more disgusted looks than others. A younger one spoke up. “What business do you have here, mud-roller?”
This elicited a few chuckles from the group. It did not seem amusing to the eldest knight there. Jek immediately recognized the eldest as Lord Favian- a powerful figure in the Cult of Blacksteel.
Favian turned to the younger knight and shook his head. “Show some respect, boy.” He spat. “That’s Jek the Greenskin.”
The young knight laughed. “I can’t be assed to learn every dirty barbarian’s history, Lord.”
“A knight is more than warrior, you oaf. He is a scholar, a poet, and a statesman as well. For your insolence, you’ll be studying the heraldry, history, and names of each barbarian knight for the next three weeks.”
Throught this exchange, Jek looked at the group with longing. These were real warriors. Not the squabbling goblins he was constantly given. When there was a natural pause in the conversation, he interjected, “I need to speak to Gawain. I have to.”
The knights exchanged quizzical glances. Even Favian looked at Jek like he grew a second head. After an awkward pause, he said, “Sir Jek, I cannot do that. Gawain demands either silence, or challengers.”
Fear welled in Jek’s heart as he imagined the serpent rampaging through the festival. “They sent me to kill a serpent. I lost 500 goblins and 50 good men. If we don’t do something about it, it will come here next. I feel it watching me.”
“Ah, I had heard talk of the barbarians orchestrating a raid on some lesser divinity. Seems they underestimated it,” he said while stroking his cleanly shaven white goatee.
Jek began to pace around the room, pulling at his hair as memories of his friends’ melted faces played through his head. “This serpent grew to tremendous heights when it wiped my forces out. There’s no telling what would happen if it made it to the village! We have to do something.”
Favian stood up and nodded thoughtfully. “If the serpent came here, Gawain would have its head. There’s no need to worry about that my friend. Walk with me, please.”
Befuddled, Jek followed Favian. The duo walked through candle-lit halls in the keep. They passed an ornate bas-relief of a huge garygolye surrounded by nine smaller gargoyles. Favian ran his fingers across it as he walked. Other blacksteel cultists passed by and gave respectful nods. A small cat began following the two, meowing loudly for attention. It eventually lost interest and began batting at a small steel construct that was delivering a message.
The keep felt more alive the deeper they went. People were talking in hushed whispers, warm candlelight illuminated the hall, and the smell of blade oil and food drifted through the hallways.
Eventually Favian spoke up. “You lost your entire warband to this serpent?”
Jek looked to the floor. “Yes.”
“In your culture that’s akin to castration. You amass these forces and that’s how you move through the ranks, is it not?”
This talk was beginning to irritate Jek. These things were obvious. “Yes.”
The duo made it to a large door with a leering gargoyle head carved in it. Favian opened it with a grunt. Inside was a gargoyle wrought from blacksteel. Fluffy cats wove through the gargoyles fingers as they batted at balled up parchment. The gargoyle’s head snapped to the doorway. Jek wanted to fall to his knees in worship. He’d never been this close to a gargoyle.
Favian gave a crafty smirk. “Looking to redeem yourself, Emmony?”
Emmony stood up from her rresting position. Unfortunately her face couldn’t express emotion, which made Jek very nervous. She sauntered over to him and got very close to his face. “Go fuck yourself, Favian. Have you ever considered that?” She paused briefly. “That goatee looks like shit by the way.”
He seemed unfazed. “Your speech is incredibly unbecoming for a scion of Gawain. It makes me cringe to hear the voice of an angel speak like a common whore.”
The two stared one another down for what felt like ages. Suddenly they both started laughing. Favian hugged her.
Jek held his hands out in confusion. “Who is this? Why am I here?”
Favian placed a hand on Jek’s shoulder. “This is Emmony. Emmony, this is Jek the Greenskin. There’s apparently a lesser divinity terroizing the countryside. I propose the two of you assemble a force and kill it for good.”
* Action 1: The Keep will rally several prominent clan leaders to move through the swamp and find new recruits for his army. They will tell tales of a impending apocalypse, and say this is for the best. If that doesn't work, they will promise future spoils of war or payment afterwards (this is a fairly common arrangement for warbands). Smaller tribes who have decent resources and refuse to join will be butchered and have their resources appropriated for the war efforts. Larger ones who refuse to join will be left alone, but will be marked for conquering at a later date.
* Action 2: Gawain and his retinue of angels will take flight and explore the swamp a bit. It has been a long time since Gawain has left the keep. Before he leaves, he will visit the various clan-congregations in Moorholm to make appearances. This should not take long since he has intimate knowledge of the terrain, and can fly. After he makes his appearances, he will sweep through the swamp and look for anything of note that can be appropriated for the war effort.
Attachments
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Cosmo
Does Not Know Kung-fu
Gofrit the Rejected
Turn 1
Heyitsjiwon
Ditmarsh was a rather miserable place even by swamp standards. The low hanging trees and, in many places, waist high waters made it near impossible to navigate and what 'dry' land there was, was often infested with insects, dense foliage or wasn't dry at all and was a trap that would cause unlucky walkers to be sucked into the hidden depths and drowned. Ditmarsh, and its neighbor Moorholm have always been seen as undesirable by.. everyone. It holds no great population, no great resources, nothing that would inspire anyone to visit outside of the constant disease brought upon by mosquitoes. The only thing truly of note were the ruins that could be found. Nothing that would be worth building a nation for and more a destination for very desperate adventurers to attempt to plunder with few ever coming back.
While walking the edges of their nearly acquired land, they came across a crumbling stone house, the once beautiful architecture now crumbling, the pristine white of the stone stained by the murky waters and overgrown with the local flowa.. within they find a single wooden chest that is near decrypted with time, do they open it? If Ditmarsh was to be anything more, it would need a lot of work, much of which seemed impossible, but the work had to begin somewhere. Irrigation ditches were dug to try and drain the swamp muk to try and gain more arable land and it goes... Questionably. Some progress is made but a lot more would need to be made, or more assets invested, if they were going to transform this swamp into something more. While the swamp had been cleared enough for some buildings or small amounts of farmland for more people, it simply wasn't enough to achieve what Gofrit likely had planned.
[Secret Action is Secret]
During the season, a single door was spotted in the middle of the village.. A door that had not been there before, a door that was not connected to any building or walls. It simply stood there, in the middle of the village, waiting.
Turn 1
Heyitsjiwon
Ditmarsh was a rather miserable place even by swamp standards. The low hanging trees and, in many places, waist high waters made it near impossible to navigate and what 'dry' land there was, was often infested with insects, dense foliage or wasn't dry at all and was a trap that would cause unlucky walkers to be sucked into the hidden depths and drowned. Ditmarsh, and its neighbor Moorholm have always been seen as undesirable by.. everyone. It holds no great population, no great resources, nothing that would inspire anyone to visit outside of the constant disease brought upon by mosquitoes. The only thing truly of note were the ruins that could be found. Nothing that would be worth building a nation for and more a destination for very desperate adventurers to attempt to plunder with few ever coming back.
While walking the edges of their nearly acquired land, they came across a crumbling stone house, the once beautiful architecture now crumbling, the pristine white of the stone stained by the murky waters and overgrown with the local flowa.. within they find a single wooden chest that is near decrypted with time, do they open it? If Ditmarsh was to be anything more, it would need a lot of work, much of which seemed impossible, but the work had to begin somewhere. Irrigation ditches were dug to try and drain the swamp muk to try and gain more arable land and it goes... Questionably. Some progress is made but a lot more would need to be made, or more assets invested, if they were going to transform this swamp into something more. While the swamp had been cleared enough for some buildings or small amounts of farmland for more people, it simply wasn't enough to achieve what Gofrit likely had planned.
[Secret Action is Secret]
During the season, a single door was spotted in the middle of the village.. A door that had not been there before, a door that was not connected to any building or walls. It simply stood there, in the middle of the village, waiting.
Cosmo
Does Not Know Kung-fu
Dr. Glass
Turn 1
LecternOfJasper
A king's ransom was leveraged to build a university to train those with magical inclination. Many in Gil-Galit weren't sure about this new approach as wizards were a bit of a risk. It only took a few crazy ones enacting some ritual they read in a book to start the city swarming with monsters and horrors.. Sure, that may sound farfetched and unlikely, but it wasn't entirely without precedent, but the council had passed it as, despite the errant fears some had, it was an interesting play. Places for higher learning were not common. Most either studied on their own at Kozan, got a teacher or went to Talirus or the Caliph to study there. A 'neutral' place such as Gil-Galit acting as place of higher learning could be very, very enticing to many. The Academy itself is beautiful, made of pristine white stone with wonderful mosaics and murals.. It seemed Dr. Glass had a very fine eye for construction as he had for artifice for the Gil-Galit Academy is seen as a beautiful landmark within the city although there couldn't help but be thoughts that it could have even been better. Perhaps with some new resources at their disposal, they can make it truly a wonder of the realm. Explicators arrive from Kozan to help teach, share their knowledge and to help organize what tomes and books Gil-Galit had into its new Academy. In time, the academy may attract new teachers or begin to reveal new secrets, but it was still new and growing. Anyone studying at the Gil-Galit Academy to expand their knowledge in the Paths will roll twice with the best result taken and applied.
Gain New Commander Type
Gil-Galit Professor
These teacher of the academy are experienced spell casters although their leadership qualities aren't ideal as they are more used to showing students the arcane arts or reading a good book by the fire then giving military orders or shouting commands over the chaos of battle. At the moment, they can either be a Level 2 Fire or a level 2 Nature mage. If the academy is grown, they will gain access to knew paths to be specialized in.
Secret Action is Secret.
Turn 1
LecternOfJasper
A king's ransom was leveraged to build a university to train those with magical inclination. Many in Gil-Galit weren't sure about this new approach as wizards were a bit of a risk. It only took a few crazy ones enacting some ritual they read in a book to start the city swarming with monsters and horrors.. Sure, that may sound farfetched and unlikely, but it wasn't entirely without precedent, but the council had passed it as, despite the errant fears some had, it was an interesting play. Places for higher learning were not common. Most either studied on their own at Kozan, got a teacher or went to Talirus or the Caliph to study there. A 'neutral' place such as Gil-Galit acting as place of higher learning could be very, very enticing to many. The Academy itself is beautiful, made of pristine white stone with wonderful mosaics and murals.. It seemed Dr. Glass had a very fine eye for construction as he had for artifice for the Gil-Galit Academy is seen as a beautiful landmark within the city although there couldn't help but be thoughts that it could have even been better. Perhaps with some new resources at their disposal, they can make it truly a wonder of the realm. Explicators arrive from Kozan to help teach, share their knowledge and to help organize what tomes and books Gil-Galit had into its new Academy. In time, the academy may attract new teachers or begin to reveal new secrets, but it was still new and growing. Anyone studying at the Gil-Galit Academy to expand their knowledge in the Paths will roll twice with the best result taken and applied.
Gain New Commander Type
Gil-Galit Professor
These teacher of the academy are experienced spell casters although their leadership qualities aren't ideal as they are more used to showing students the arcane arts or reading a good book by the fire then giving military orders or shouting commands over the chaos of battle. At the moment, they can either be a Level 2 Fire or a level 2 Nature mage. If the academy is grown, they will gain access to knew paths to be specialized in.
Secret Action is Secret.
Cosmo
Does Not Know Kung-fu
Inziim
Turn 1
Trektek
A trade outpost is built in southern Ysrendelle, a large wooden building with low walls meant to facilitate trade and give caravans a safe place to rest. Humans and elves are employed there to try and give visitors a 'friendlyfleshy face' to meet to give a better first impression, as well as bards and musicians to try and keep everyone entertained.. A good idea, but.. as the weeks go on, very few people seem to come by. The Ashlands are seen as a bit of a 'cursed' land, so few from the Talirus Republic even come this direction as the only thing up north was Kozen, a place more for individual nobility then trade caravans, Flaustan which is trading with no one under their self-imposed isolation and, of course, the cursed Ashlands.. The only ones who seem to come by are the occasional, very surprised, explorers and wanders but they seem to enjoy their stay. Perhaps word of mouth will spread? Maybe? Possibly?... But if Inziim wanted to generate trade and travel to his nation, it seemed he'd need to make the first overt move. He'd likely need to travel, or communicate, with the Talirus Republic and try to establish a formal trade route to encourage caravans to start coming north again. But if the trade is established, the outpost could be very, very useful.
[Trade Outpost Built, no noticeable change, advised to approach strongest, wealthiest neighbor {Talirus} to form an official trade agreement]
Inziim leaves his nation to travel north, to take a look at the Jotunheim Throne.. one of the fabled pillars of reality, to scout it out? To try and claim it for himself? Whatever waited for him there... It was hard to imagine [Will be done in Discord]
..... However.
As Inziim was traveling across the frozen realm of Jotunheim, something from Jotunheim was coming down to Ysrendelle. When the cat is gone, the mice will play, as they say.
The Ash Walkers report to their commanders that a raiding party has descended from Jotunheim and is heading right for their valley, they no doubt intend to pillage and burn.. And with Inziim gone, they'd have no one to rely on but themselves. The Ash Walkers report that the raiding party is humans but there is a single, large, Jotun among them who seems to be wearing tons of pelts and carries a massive axe.. Likely a wanderer or adventurer of the Giants joining the humans for little more then 'enjoyment'.
They were coming, and coming for bone and blood.
Decision Point
1. March out and meet them in the field.
2. Pull behind the walls and try to wait them out.
3. Try to bribe them to leave [if you have the means]
4. Your Idea
Turn 1
Trektek
A trade outpost is built in southern Ysrendelle, a large wooden building with low walls meant to facilitate trade and give caravans a safe place to rest. Humans and elves are employed there to try and give visitors a 'friendly
[Trade Outpost Built, no noticeable change, advised to approach strongest, wealthiest neighbor {Talirus} to form an official trade agreement]
Inziim leaves his nation to travel north, to take a look at the Jotunheim Throne.. one of the fabled pillars of reality, to scout it out? To try and claim it for himself? Whatever waited for him there... It was hard to imagine [Will be done in Discord]
..... However.
As Inziim was traveling across the frozen realm of Jotunheim, something from Jotunheim was coming down to Ysrendelle. When the cat is gone, the mice will play, as they say.
The Ash Walkers report to their commanders that a raiding party has descended from Jotunheim and is heading right for their valley, they no doubt intend to pillage and burn.. And with Inziim gone, they'd have no one to rely on but themselves. The Ash Walkers report that the raiding party is humans but there is a single, large, Jotun among them who seems to be wearing tons of pelts and carries a massive axe.. Likely a wanderer or adventurer of the Giants joining the humans for little more then 'enjoyment'.
They were coming, and coming for bone and blood.
Decision Point
1. March out and meet them in the field.
2. Pull behind the walls and try to wait them out.
3. Try to bribe them to leave [if you have the means]
4. Your Idea
Cosmo
Does Not Know Kung-fu
A group of armed sentinels ride up to meet the Company of the Oak. One of them holding the banner of Akthubit and another blowing in a long horn to announce there presence. They seem as polite and professional as ready to call reinforcements. The oldest of them call out for Harnald and once he is here dismount. The veteran then deftly take out a small and light golden tablet. On it back is engraved a lion holding a scepter and sitting on top of an Ankh, the armory and symbol of Akthubit. Attached to the golden pass with a string is a red envelope with ancient inscription on it. The wax seal a golden lion. After handing it, the old sentinel state.
"The sentinels, messengers and protector of the golden land, greet Sir Harnald Hirte. Negest Nebawe Kiyan Taric has saw fit to answers you personally. As per usual administrative protocol you are decreed to report to her Royal authority directly concerning your agreement or refusal to the proposed contract and the progress and trials encountered should you accept. The golden tablet I passed on to you is blank for now. Should you decide to tackle this mission. Present the signed contract given by the Negest Nebawe and give back the tablet to a Royal department in charge of the military. They will legalize your company right to hunt and battle on behalf of Akthubit. Once your golden tablet is done guard it as well as your life. You will need to present it each time to enter the military quarter assigned to you, the covering of your expense and most importantly prove your legitimacy to official army and any person you deal with. The nearest fully fledged administration able to take care of this, is in the city and fortress of Raqis, two days from here. I bid you and your own farewell."
As he say this last phrase he smack his other side with his closed fist. Without missing any beat he get on his horse and order his regiment to follow him. A cloud of dust and sand follow them as their silhouette get smaller. Harnald is left with the golden tablet and the Negest envelope. Inside it there is a folded contract and the Queen letter. The Royal missive smell of charcoal and myrrh. The writing in it neat and clear, the small flourish here and there the only hint of the sender high status.
It read:
"To Sir Harnald Hirte,
Leader of the Company of the Oak,
I have receive news of your arrivals with much curiosity. It is known to all that mercenaries flow in and out of our proud Akthubit as much as gold. As such is the price of our prosperity. Albeit your and your own are indeed a peculiar case. One of my most respected and feared Fitawrari has acknowledged your competence. A rare thing for a commander of mine. Which compelled me to accept your offer. The contract you received lay down in excruciating details how our partnership would function should you accept. I much prefer conciseness however. As such the first and most relevant information for you will be those:
All of your expenses and need will be taken care of, after the work completed you will receive one pure gold ingot from the Royal coffer. And during the whole duration of your contract will be afforded exemption and privileges from any toll and taxes as well as free passage anywhere and limited authority to accomplish the mission I intend to bestow onto you. And much more. The rules you will be ordered to follow are certainly one you are more then familiar with. Only attacks and harm those you are ordered too, cause no problems to our people, and most importantly fulfill your contract. I will be particularly watchful for any complaints from my subjects concerning your company abusing the power I gave you. As you stated, Akthubit wrestled for it liberty with blood. My people are thus on their guard and will no doubt watch you closely. For the power you will receive if you accept is no small matter. You are the first company we contact for the mission I am about to give you. But know that you are far from the only one that we have in mind. And although I sincerely desire for a fruitful and fair collaboration between us. Akthubit is no stranger to paying mercenaries to get rid of their own troublesome peer.
Now that it is say. Your task should you accept will be, I hope, straightforward. Curb or eliminate the bandits clan plaguing our trading road near Xicala and Bondar. You will have enough authority to investigate them should you need it. As for the spoils those wretched took. Beside that the goods that can be salvaged are given back to their owner or to us. We demand the first pick of everything you find. Each time you are to report your findings to the nearest Royal administration in order for them to assess the damage and record everything. Those bandits clan are indeed most infamous for plundering everything they can get their hands on. Irrespectively of what it is, it cultural and sacred importance or even it danger for our kingdom. As such it is my Royal duty to retrieve any objects, artefacts or weapons that is part of Akthubit history or rightfully belong to it. After thorough inspection is made, the rest will be given to you. Thus expect to be able to keep the large part of the gold they have acquire but give back the rest to us without question. If we find no value in the objects we examined they will be naturally proposed to you first.
As for the nature of your target. You have or will hear many rumors about the numerous bandit clan soiling our soils. But the ones I want you to focus on are the most powerful. Ideally eliminating them completely but the more reasonable goal I entrust to you is to cull their numbers as much as you can. Making them a shadow of their former self, ready to be picked apart or wither on it own. None of them are united and you must not let them be. It does not matter if you only attack one group or all of them. If they show any sign of a growing alliance you are charged to divide them by any mean necessary. Beside that I trust and support any strategy you decide to employ. Safe for if it violate the clauses stated in our contract naturally. If you find yourselves ensure of my approval concerning your strategy or in need of something have no fear and ask me.
The first one are called the Black Hand. A group of cutthroats from Nurbellium. Made up of mostly assassins and thieves. They are the trickiest to deal with by far. Their country of origin make it so you will have to be particularly watchful. Any information from them concerning Nurbellium must be kept secret and communicated to me.
The second are known as the Sons of Dune. They come from the vast deserts below the Caliph, and are fond of using camels and ambushing caravans. They are the most organized of them all. And although our relationship with the Abylid Caliph is not openly hostile. Caution is mandatory.
Now the last and worst among the three by their sheer nature are the Blood Singers. A crazed cult of blood mages from Bondar. Very few else is known to us beside the atrocities they commit. Capturing and interrogating a member would be priceless. But don't put that as a priority. Learn about their cults if you need to destroy them cleanly. Otherwise, slaughter any of them on sigh.
I await your answers patiently. Any future communication between us will be even further kept tight. You will be assigned a Royal messenger who will be in charge of relaying our correspondence. If not weekly, I expect regular report of your discovery and progress.
May your ancestors smile upon you,
Negest Nebawe
Kiyan Taric
---------
The Company of Oak's offer of employment had been taken, if Harald accepts, the Company of Oak will gain 1 EP. In addition, while employed, the kingdom will take care of their upkeep stopping the natural EP decay that they normally suffer from. But the employment came with a job already, a potentially dangerous job. Akthubit was plagued by bandits, given its sheer wealth, solitary trade routes over large expanses of open, undefended terrain, it was to be expected. Three bandit clans were known to be rather infamous for the damage they caused to trade and the influence they exerted upon the fringes of the nation, those being the Black Hand, Sons of Dune and Blood Singers. Harald was charge to remove them. A dangerous task, especially if they unified.
Should he accept employment, he'd need to defeat them. But how did he wish to go about it? Fight them one at a time? Trying to isolate and crush them? But if he failed, or they gained wind of this, they could go to ground or unify making it difficult, perhaps impossible, to root them out. Did he leak information of a gold caravan rolling down the roads? It would no doubt draw them out like flies, but he'd need to face them all at once, but if he won, he'd crush them all in one fell swoop.. if he failed, his company may die and the caravan would be lost.. Or, perhaps, Harald had his own plans and schemes for how to accomplish this?
Decision Point
1. Hunt down the bandits separately to try to defeat them in detail [one at a time].
2. Lure the bandits into a single large battle to try and wipe them out all at once.
3. Your idea/plan
[I can auto resolve this on RPN, we can do a full scene or we can do a faster, rapid fire version. Let me know which you'd prefer!]
The company trains and drills to keep up their skill, their wooden training swords rising and falling, their men marching and assuming formations as their commanding officers bark it out, smacking layabouts about the ears as they slip up or stand in the wrong place.. It is a simple training regime, but a tried and proven one. Every unit in the Company of the Oak gains the ability to form Testudo and Schiltron formations. They may freely enter and exit those formations without suffering from Disorganized.
The Company of Oak's offer of employment had been taken, if Harald accepts, the Company of Oak will gain 1 EP. In addition, while employed, the kingdom will take care of their upkeep stopping the natural EP decay that they normally suffer from. But the employment came with a job already, a potentially dangerous job. Akthubit was plagued by bandits, given its sheer wealth, solitary trade routes over large expanses of open, undefended terrain, it was to be expected. Three bandit clans were known to be rather infamous for the damage they caused to trade and the influence they exerted upon the fringes of the nation, those being the Black Hand, Sons of Dune and Blood Singers. Harald was charge to remove them. A dangerous task, especially if they unified.
Should he accept employment, he'd need to defeat them. But how did he wish to go about it? Fight them one at a time? Trying to isolate and crush them? But if he failed, or they gained wind of this, they could go to ground or unify making it difficult, perhaps impossible, to root them out. Did he leak information of a gold caravan rolling down the roads? It would no doubt draw them out like flies, but he'd need to face them all at once, but if he won, he'd crush them all in one fell swoop.. if he failed, his company may die and the caravan would be lost.. Or, perhaps, Harald had his own plans and schemes for how to accomplish this?
Decision Point
1. Hunt down the bandits separately to try to defeat them in detail [one at a time].
2. Lure the bandits into a single large battle to try and wipe them out all at once.
3. Your idea/plan
[I can auto resolve this on RPN, we can do a full scene or we can do a faster, rapid fire version. Let me know which you'd prefer!]
The company trains and drills to keep up their skill, their wooden training swords rising and falling, their men marching and assuming formations as their commanding officers bark it out, smacking layabouts about the ears as they slip up or stand in the wrong place.. It is a simple training regime, but a tried and proven one. Every unit in the Company of the Oak gains the ability to form Testudo and Schiltron formations. They may freely enter and exit those formations without suffering from Disorganized.
Twist
Going round it to be honest
The Herde
Military Power
3
Economic Power
0
Unique Resource
?
Perks
Nomads
As a nomadic tribe, it is harder for herde to set up 'trade deals' that are rather permanent in any real means. Whenever the herde enters a region you may decide if they come as Traders or Raiders... with the implications of both being obvious. As the Herde gains a reputation, this may change and the option maybe picked for them.
Raid and Plunder
The Herde has the ability to freely raid and plunder.. Due to the Herde's sheer speed, being all cavalry, it is very hard to 'pin them down'. The Herde may decide if it is plundering the land [and so avoiding more fortified settlements] and the chance of being intercepted and forced to a fight is exceptionally low, or if it will be burning all of it and so attempting to conquer cities, towns and forts where a battle is guaranteed.
The Riders of the Harvest
Whenever the Herde enters a large battle, and a battalion does exceptionally well, I will note them. You will then give them a name and that 'batallion' will become something of a 'heroic unit', gaining unique abilities or higher stats to reflect their status. Groom many heroic units, push the ones you have to new heights and dominate the field of battle. Be warned, if one such unit dies, it will create a wave of panic in the rest.
Units
Commanders
Studs
Studs are 'priest' that can draw their lineage back to the legendary four centaur of old, and they have the unique fur coat to match. Some are a deep bloody red, some an inky pitch black while others are a sterling pearl white. Studs aren't quite the leaders that Warhorses are, but their presence is inspiring as they chant about the legends of old to inspire their fellows. Studs are Level 1 Death Mages.
Warhorses
Magnassia was filled with many tribes before they were unified by Baroqee at the cost of their leaders. With the chieftains killed, command has fallen to those who wield the greatest experience on the battlefield, the great warriors and veterans of the tribes who have seen the most conflict. What 'kind' of Warhorse it is depends on what unit it is assigned to, a Warhorse within a Minotaur Unit is assumed to be a Minotaur. Generally, Centaur Warhorses are the best leaders, Minotaur Warhorses are the greatest warriors and Sataur Warhorses are the most cunning.
Elite Units
Minotaurs
Minotaurs are immensely large and powerful taurs. They are the things of nightmares and so cause Fear especially as they are charging towards a squishy line of two-legged creatures that thought they could stand in their way. Minotaurs use immense great axes to reap a blood toil, cleaving through armor and crushing opposition. Minotaurs have an internal desire to 'feast', to consume the flesh of their prey and gorge themselves.. as such, Minotaurs have Frenzy [Be warned, as cavalry with frenzy, this means they may charge without orders]. Minotaurs are.. not cheap.
Harpies
The Harpies are not 'really' part of the Herde, but instead they follow the Herde looking to snatch up victims that the Herde misses or lure enemies to the Herde so that they may snap a few morsels up for themselves. These 'beautiful' bird women are ferocious fighters, but their real value comes in the fact they are natural fliers making them exceptionally quick and hard to pin down. Harpies can attempt to 'sing' to lure enemy out of formation and towards them, disrupting lines.
Basic Units
Sataur Raiders
Sataur Raiders are a light, unarmored cavalry unit that is very quick on their hooves but lack the sheer punch of their larger cousins. Being part goats, they ignore any terrain penalties and may ride free and fast over any obstacle in their path. Sataur Raiders are armed with spears and short bows that they use to harrass the enemy. While they aren't likely to win a skirmish trade, their sheer speed makes them great for flanking or charging light infantry that are exposed and are fairly cheap for what they are.
Centaur Warrior
The Centaur Warrior is the tried and true Centaur Warrior and make up the bulk of the warriors. They wear light leather lamellar armor, use powerful recurve bows and carry large lances and swords for when they come thundering into melee. They can skirmish, they can charge headlong into combat, they can run around the flanks, there is little a Centaur Warrior cannot do, but they are more expensive then most 'basic' units of other nations.
The Awakened
Sataur tend to be a mischievous bunch.. They are the real 'party animals' of the Herde, dancing and singing under the moon as they dance and drink deep the Airag. This has the strange effect of luring men and women into their parties where they end up discarding their clothes and 'giving in' to the savagery of life. These Awakened don't have much of a real purpose outside of doing chores and other light work, in between the Sataur parties, but on the battlefield they are the only 'infantry' the Herde really has. They are unarmored [and unclothed most of the time] and use simple wooden spears and shields. They are brave, but not great fighters and tend to be undiciplined. Their greatest perk is.. they're free.
Godbound
Name
Baroqee
'The Great Uniter, The Pale Mare and the Coming of the Four Horsemen'
Race
Centaur
Word
Famine
Power
Balancing of the Scales
Land ravaged by Baroqee find that it never recovers. Crops seem to wilt and wither on the vine, waters turn rancid and disease spreads throughout the land. Baroqee permanently lowers the economic prosperity of any land that she successfully raids as population stalls and starts to die off. If a land is plundered enough, it becomes a land of death where it actively becomes hostile to the living. Only an opposing word, such as Fertility, can even attempt to reverse this effect.
Gifts
Greater Gifts
Mistress of Carrion
All Carrion Birds [Vultures, Crows, Etc] will obey Baroqee. They listen to her commands and will follow her will [although they follow their instincts and so aren't suicidal]. Baroqee may see and hear through any carrion bird within a mile of her position. Baroqee may cast the spell: Raven's Feast for free.
Raven's Feast - A massive unkindness of Ravens descends upon the site of a battle and gorges themselves on the flesh of the fallen. They then return to the caster where their stomachs are ripped open and death gems harvested. Amount of gems depends on the size of the battle they feast upon.
Wither
Baroqee can force all enemies within 100 feet to 'Wither'. This will cause constant damage to foes as their bodies begin to atrophy and wither to nothing. As their strength fails, so too will their prowess... Unworthy are helpless against this while Heroic and Worthy take a test each round, if they fail, not only do they take damage but their might is lowered as well. [They regain their might the next game turn... if they survive]
Lesser Gifts
Wheat to Barley, Hoof to Dust
Whenever Baroqee and the Herd pillage a province, they roll twice for loot and take the better rolls. If the Herd is ever forced to retreat or flee a battlefield, they count their retreat as an Organized Withdrawal.
Dead Scar
Baroqee can drain the life from the ground beneath her hooves and channel that into the herd. This leads a massive 'dead scar' wherever the Herd has been, but doubles their map movement.
Turn 1
The waves lapped tirelessly against the reddish rock, the beach between nothing but pebbles and shale as was much of the coast of Magnassia. Dry and weathered, the valley did little in the way of growing less so under the hoof of its many residents, the numerous Centaur.
"Where is it?" mumbled Jane.
Lifting up the animal hide rug but to no reward, Jane dropped it back on to the sand. She brushed the sand from her bare body with both hands before placing them on her hips. Glancing around the tent with lips pursed in thought, Jane scanned over the belongings inside once again.
At the centre of the tent were the sand covered remains of a small campfire, which had kept Jane warm the night before and boiled the salt water this morning, the wooden buckets of clean water sitting to one side alongside a few skins of alcohol, of which were empty. The 'Awakened' had been up most of the night, partying and drinking with the Campus, a tribe of Taur well known for the latter.
Outside the tent, she could hear the slurred shouting of one such beast. "It'sa declar, 'hic' invasion of warts.. 'hic' ... war, I tells ya!"
"You fool! Can't you see... see... it's a love letter"
The sound of dry retching interspersed the Taur's retort. Jane eyed the broom within the tent cautiously, but luckily the Taur's retching amounted to just that.
Stepping outside, Jane looked around the beach side camp. The two arguing Taurs, one a Centaur and the other a Sataur continued their argument, the goat horned man beast trying to grasp the note from his bigger horse halved brethren as a third Taur, that Jane only just remembered from the night before floated unmoving in the sea.
'Well there had been alot of drinking last night....' thought Jane.
Unsure whether the Centaur was alive or dead, a sudden spasm as he shot to life seemingly answered the question. "Treeeaassuurree Maaappp!!!" he exclaimed explosively, before falling forwards, his head drooping as he fell back into his stupor.
Jane blinked in surprise but the other Taur's either ignored their floating friend or were too drunk to register his presence. Jane headed to the stable, peering into the dust bath as she passed by.
"I, Numeros, Grand Executor and.." the white haired centaur squinted at the words and mumbled "..Corpse... 'hic' hand? Declair war!"
He stabbed at the words with his finger, holding it in front of the Sataur who quickly snatched it.
"Idiot! Its not War, it's world. Crozan declares her world to be, 'hic' enamoured with Goatal! 'hic' Me! 'hic'"
Goatal held the message to his hairy chest, with both hands. "She speaks of my wonder, her emptiness without me...."
Jane returned, standing a short distance away from the monologuing Sataur. Scratching her head, her eyes widened as she finally laid eyes on her shawl, peeking out from under the struggling legs and rear of the white haired centaur. Her only keepsake from her past life, the normally naked woman had the forethought to plan ahead for the cold winters, despite her freeing life choice. A decision that may just come in handy now as she soon gathered with the others.
If she could get at it....
She took a moment to think, Goatal still chattering away. "She prepears herself for me 'hic' and tells me of her throws of heathern, Blane 'hic' . Waiting to be filled again and again by me."
"Will ya shut up! We're at war now!" snapped Blane as he tried to get to his hooves, his back legs numbed.
Jane hurried to the tent, now armed with a plan. Ignoring another scream of "Treaaasssuuurrre Maaappp!!!" from outside, she grabbed the broom from inside and approached Blaine from behind.
Goatal continued his fawning as Blane strained to lift himself. "We have to plan our strategy" growled the Centaur but the man goat was not listening in the slightest.
The wooden end of the broom slowly disappeared between Blane's kicking legs.
"My Cruelty and my Prettiness. Oooo she thinks I'm pretty, Blane"
Doing his best to imagine what Crozan could look, though she kept coming up as a pinkish Tantaur, Goatal did not notice a slowly raising Blane or the quiet grunts from behind the Centaur. Seemingly out of nowhere, Blanes back legs gained purchase and he was on his hoofs.
For only a moment.
Still to drunk to stand and so intent on stealing back the note to better prepare for the 'coming' war, Blane fell forward's crashing headfirst into Goatal and sending the two Taurs to the ground.
Red faced, Jane let out a mighty breath. Her lever had worked, the broom had almost snapped but it had worked! Dropping the broom, she picked her shawl off the pebbles and flung it over her shoulder. Feeling a wet spot, Jane's face drooped.
Slipping it from her sagging shoulder, Jane held the shawl before her. Already planning on following the river next to the camp to the meeting spot, Jane thought it best soak her shawl along the way.
OrdersMilitary Power
3
Economic Power
0
Unique Resource
?
Perks
Nomads
As a nomadic tribe, it is harder for herde to set up 'trade deals' that are rather permanent in any real means. Whenever the herde enters a region you may decide if they come as Traders or Raiders... with the implications of both being obvious. As the Herde gains a reputation, this may change and the option maybe picked for them.
Raid and Plunder
The Herde has the ability to freely raid and plunder.. Due to the Herde's sheer speed, being all cavalry, it is very hard to 'pin them down'. The Herde may decide if it is plundering the land [and so avoiding more fortified settlements] and the chance of being intercepted and forced to a fight is exceptionally low, or if it will be burning all of it and so attempting to conquer cities, towns and forts where a battle is guaranteed.
The Riders of the Harvest
Whenever the Herde enters a large battle, and a battalion does exceptionally well, I will note them. You will then give them a name and that 'batallion' will become something of a 'heroic unit', gaining unique abilities or higher stats to reflect their status. Groom many heroic units, push the ones you have to new heights and dominate the field of battle. Be warned, if one such unit dies, it will create a wave of panic in the rest.
Units
Commanders
Studs
Studs are 'priest' that can draw their lineage back to the legendary four centaur of old, and they have the unique fur coat to match. Some are a deep bloody red, some an inky pitch black while others are a sterling pearl white. Studs aren't quite the leaders that Warhorses are, but their presence is inspiring as they chant about the legends of old to inspire their fellows. Studs are Level 1 Death Mages.
Warhorses
Magnassia was filled with many tribes before they were unified by Baroqee at the cost of their leaders. With the chieftains killed, command has fallen to those who wield the greatest experience on the battlefield, the great warriors and veterans of the tribes who have seen the most conflict. What 'kind' of Warhorse it is depends on what unit it is assigned to, a Warhorse within a Minotaur Unit is assumed to be a Minotaur. Generally, Centaur Warhorses are the best leaders, Minotaur Warhorses are the greatest warriors and Sataur Warhorses are the most cunning.
Elite Units
Minotaurs
Minotaurs are immensely large and powerful taurs. They are the things of nightmares and so cause Fear especially as they are charging towards a squishy line of two-legged creatures that thought they could stand in their way. Minotaurs use immense great axes to reap a blood toil, cleaving through armor and crushing opposition. Minotaurs have an internal desire to 'feast', to consume the flesh of their prey and gorge themselves.. as such, Minotaurs have Frenzy [Be warned, as cavalry with frenzy, this means they may charge without orders]. Minotaurs are.. not cheap.
Harpies
The Harpies are not 'really' part of the Herde, but instead they follow the Herde looking to snatch up victims that the Herde misses or lure enemies to the Herde so that they may snap a few morsels up for themselves. These 'beautiful' bird women are ferocious fighters, but their real value comes in the fact they are natural fliers making them exceptionally quick and hard to pin down. Harpies can attempt to 'sing' to lure enemy out of formation and towards them, disrupting lines.
Basic Units
Sataur Raiders
Sataur Raiders are a light, unarmored cavalry unit that is very quick on their hooves but lack the sheer punch of their larger cousins. Being part goats, they ignore any terrain penalties and may ride free and fast over any obstacle in their path. Sataur Raiders are armed with spears and short bows that they use to harrass the enemy. While they aren't likely to win a skirmish trade, their sheer speed makes them great for flanking or charging light infantry that are exposed and are fairly cheap for what they are.
Centaur Warrior
The Centaur Warrior is the tried and true Centaur Warrior and make up the bulk of the warriors. They wear light leather lamellar armor, use powerful recurve bows and carry large lances and swords for when they come thundering into melee. They can skirmish, they can charge headlong into combat, they can run around the flanks, there is little a Centaur Warrior cannot do, but they are more expensive then most 'basic' units of other nations.
The Awakened
Sataur tend to be a mischievous bunch.. They are the real 'party animals' of the Herde, dancing and singing under the moon as they dance and drink deep the Airag. This has the strange effect of luring men and women into their parties where they end up discarding their clothes and 'giving in' to the savagery of life. These Awakened don't have much of a real purpose outside of doing chores and other light work, in between the Sataur parties, but on the battlefield they are the only 'infantry' the Herde really has. They are unarmored [and unclothed most of the time] and use simple wooden spears and shields. They are brave, but not great fighters and tend to be undiciplined. Their greatest perk is.. they're free.
Godbound
Name
Baroqee
'The Great Uniter, The Pale Mare and the Coming of the Four Horsemen'
Race
Centaur
Word
Famine
Power
Balancing of the Scales
Land ravaged by Baroqee find that it never recovers. Crops seem to wilt and wither on the vine, waters turn rancid and disease spreads throughout the land. Baroqee permanently lowers the economic prosperity of any land that she successfully raids as population stalls and starts to die off. If a land is plundered enough, it becomes a land of death where it actively becomes hostile to the living. Only an opposing word, such as Fertility, can even attempt to reverse this effect.
Gifts
Greater Gifts
Mistress of Carrion
All Carrion Birds [Vultures, Crows, Etc] will obey Baroqee. They listen to her commands and will follow her will [although they follow their instincts and so aren't suicidal]. Baroqee may see and hear through any carrion bird within a mile of her position. Baroqee may cast the spell: Raven's Feast for free.
Raven's Feast - A massive unkindness of Ravens descends upon the site of a battle and gorges themselves on the flesh of the fallen. They then return to the caster where their stomachs are ripped open and death gems harvested. Amount of gems depends on the size of the battle they feast upon.
Wither
Baroqee can force all enemies within 100 feet to 'Wither'. This will cause constant damage to foes as their bodies begin to atrophy and wither to nothing. As their strength fails, so too will their prowess... Unworthy are helpless against this while Heroic and Worthy take a test each round, if they fail, not only do they take damage but their might is lowered as well. [They regain their might the next game turn... if they survive]
Lesser Gifts
Wheat to Barley, Hoof to Dust
Whenever Baroqee and the Herd pillage a province, they roll twice for loot and take the better rolls. If the Herd is ever forced to retreat or flee a battlefield, they count their retreat as an Organized Withdrawal.
Dead Scar
Baroqee can drain the life from the ground beneath her hooves and channel that into the herd. This leads a massive 'dead scar' wherever the Herd has been, but doubles their map movement.
Turn 1
The waves lapped tirelessly against the reddish rock, the beach between nothing but pebbles and shale as was much of the coast of Magnassia. Dry and weathered, the valley did little in the way of growing less so under the hoof of its many residents, the numerous Centaur.
"Where is it?" mumbled Jane.
Lifting up the animal hide rug but to no reward, Jane dropped it back on to the sand. She brushed the sand from her bare body with both hands before placing them on her hips. Glancing around the tent with lips pursed in thought, Jane scanned over the belongings inside once again.
At the centre of the tent were the sand covered remains of a small campfire, which had kept Jane warm the night before and boiled the salt water this morning, the wooden buckets of clean water sitting to one side alongside a few skins of alcohol, of which were empty. The 'Awakened' had been up most of the night, partying and drinking with the Campus, a tribe of Taur well known for the latter.
Outside the tent, she could hear the slurred shouting of one such beast. "It'sa declar, 'hic' invasion of warts.. 'hic' ... war, I tells ya!"
"You fool! Can't you see... see... it's a love letter"
The sound of dry retching interspersed the Taur's retort. Jane eyed the broom within the tent cautiously, but luckily the Taur's retching amounted to just that.
Stepping outside, Jane looked around the beach side camp. The two arguing Taurs, one a Centaur and the other a Sataur continued their argument, the goat horned man beast trying to grasp the note from his bigger horse halved brethren as a third Taur, that Jane only just remembered from the night before floated unmoving in the sea.
'Well there had been alot of drinking last night....' thought Jane.
Unsure whether the Centaur was alive or dead, a sudden spasm as he shot to life seemingly answered the question. "Treeeaassuurree Maaappp!!!" he exclaimed explosively, before falling forwards, his head drooping as he fell back into his stupor.
Jane blinked in surprise but the other Taur's either ignored their floating friend or were too drunk to register his presence. Jane headed to the stable, peering into the dust bath as she passed by.
"I, Numeros, Grand Executor and.." the white haired centaur squinted at the words and mumbled "..Corpse... 'hic' hand? Declair war!"
He stabbed at the words with his finger, holding it in front of the Sataur who quickly snatched it.
"Idiot! Its not War, it's world. Crozan declares her world to be, 'hic' enamoured with Goatal! 'hic' Me! 'hic'"
Goatal held the message to his hairy chest, with both hands. "She speaks of my wonder, her emptiness without me...."
Jane returned, standing a short distance away from the monologuing Sataur. Scratching her head, her eyes widened as she finally laid eyes on her shawl, peeking out from under the struggling legs and rear of the white haired centaur. Her only keepsake from her past life, the normally naked woman had the forethought to plan ahead for the cold winters, despite her freeing life choice. A decision that may just come in handy now as she soon gathered with the others.
If she could get at it....
She took a moment to think, Goatal still chattering away. "She prepears herself for me 'hic' and tells me of her throws of heathern, Blane 'hic' . Waiting to be filled again and again by me."
"Will ya shut up! We're at war now!" snapped Blane as he tried to get to his hooves, his back legs numbed.
Jane hurried to the tent, now armed with a plan. Ignoring another scream of "Treaaasssuuurrre Maaappp!!!" from outside, she grabbed the broom from inside and approached Blaine from behind.
Goatal continued his fawning as Blane strained to lift himself. "We have to plan our strategy" growled the Centaur but the man goat was not listening in the slightest.
The wooden end of the broom slowly disappeared between Blane's kicking legs.
"My Cruelty and my Prettiness. Oooo she thinks I'm pretty, Blane"
Doing his best to imagine what Crozan could look, though she kept coming up as a pinkish Tantaur, Goatal did not notice a slowly raising Blane or the quiet grunts from behind the Centaur. Seemingly out of nowhere, Blanes back legs gained purchase and he was on his hoofs.
For only a moment.
Still to drunk to stand and so intent on stealing back the note to better prepare for the 'coming' war, Blane fell forward's crashing headfirst into Goatal and sending the two Taurs to the ground.
Red faced, Jane let out a mighty breath. Her lever had worked, the broom had almost snapped but it had worked! Dropping the broom, she picked her shawl off the pebbles and flung it over her shoulder. Feeling a wet spot, Jane's face drooped.
Slipping it from her sagging shoulder, Jane held the shawl before her. Already planning on following the river next to the camp to the meeting spot, Jane thought it best soak her shawl along the way.
1. SECRET2. SECRET
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