• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy UNTAMED ARCHIPELAGO: IC

Other
Here
Chordling Chordling :

Action 1: Relax at the taverns.
Action 2: Gather intel for Ravnica's Sandbox.
Travel: The Enchantress will set a course for Thruneswatch.

The Grey Maidens had quieted down without so many in port. The Elves felt well at home at "The languid lagoon" Tavern... and since the one of the biggest pirates tried to stir trouble with the elves and Haemyth broke all of his fingers and toes -- nobody seemed to bother them anymore but to ask them what they wanted. It was hard, being an elf, to feel true comfort and respite outside of the homelands, but The elves did their best to emulate the comforts and pleasures of home.

(Morale increases -- all elves gain "Spirited Morale" -1 wealth for expenses racked up in town)

"We best learn what we can about Ravnica's Sandbox and finally head out..." was the order of the day... And learn about the islands history they did -- it was hard to pin down when, accounts of the haunting seemed to go back almost 200 years. Not long for an elf, but plenty of time for a human spirit to go feral, one supposed. That's why you just didn't see many elven ghosts around, at least since the Schizm... and when you do most people know well enough to find out what they need from you or run and never look back. The ghosts of other humanoids were just another form of litter to an elf that was old enough... and most ghosts are all too willing to give up their secrets when plied with the right questions...

Ravnica's Sandbox was once a (supposedly) great plantation -- but the Hegemon Muurdains that ran the operation grew increasingly hostile to the natives they depended on for labor. Ravnica's Grandmother Ada, founded the plantation but when she grew old, as all human "mayflies" do -- and in the untimely death of Ravnica's mother -- it was said she perished in a freak accident involving some native ritual involving the marriage of Ravnica's mother to the chief, and the ceremonial marriage of the Muurdain gods with the Loa's of the Natives. House Hegemon's primary Deity was some blustering sky-tyrant named "Lord Ao" -- Prince Airdan learned that in some book as a youth -- "The quaint gods of the short-lived" or some similar title... In any case, Ravnica blamed the chief and had him slain, and the natives left the fields and buried the plots with salt and sand so that nothing would grow. For a while there was a "Cold War" on the island, Where Ravnica cursed the fishing around the island to further punish the "Khuul-Khul" natives and, not meaning to -- made the island not ecologically sustainable for such a large group of people. Ravnica ordered more crops and slaves from outside the archipelagos but they never reached "the sandbox" -- so Ravnica and the rest of the Muurdain started hunting and eating the NATIVES... and this is where the story gets spotty... lot of ravings and hearsay... something about a black curse, and more babbling about something humans called "the horror mark" -- Haemyth was given a chill at the mention of that, but was quiet around the prince about it... after all, they weren't going to Ravnica's sandbox were they? They had charts mapped and were setting sail for the Isle of Thruneswatch...

Thruneswatch was a quick sail in such a lovely elven ship and Prince Airdan's... and the wind kissed it lovingly across the waves and between dangers until they reached it's shores. The Lighthouse WAS indeed still run, by a half elven couple called the Loxenbries. Getting on in years and seemingly going slowly crazy from isolation they seemed nice enough -- They told the prince they tracked Pirate ships moving through these waters from Dagothia to the sea of strife... And if they were interested, The keepers could always tell Prince Airdan how to hunt down or find a pirate in eastern waters. (You may now hunt pirates in the eastern seas!) ...

After staying with the Loxenbries for an afternoon it was time to examine the other side of the island... they visited the brusk and humorless "Hloloc people" -- who offered:

(Barter only! no wealth!)

native beads and adornments : 1 unit of anything else
Uncut Rubies : 1 unit of anything else
"Godsbeard" Healing plants: 2 units of anything else

________

The Hloloc also warned the elves not to venture into the jungles of the island... "Bad serpent Loas" -- "Angry little local gods" -- This intrigued the prince, and many of the elves wondered if such a beast could be captured or hunted... it was just another thing to consider.

In the meantime the Hloloc restocked the prince's provisions and wished Prince Aiden "Good luck getting out of the house -- the outside whispers where the gods must go."

Crazy humans. While the prince was not without human friends he wondered if he could listen to any one of them talk for more of a century -- and that perhaps explained one or two of the laws of nature... How crazy would YOU act if you had less than a single season to live?!

The elves enjoyed the sun and the breeze on Thruneswatch... but far to the NE their superior elven eyes could see boiling storms and freakishly high waves -- the way to "Smuggler's Shiv"...
 
​


"Do not despair," Einar laid a hand on Hrónn's shoulder, casting the remaining swill filling his tankard into the greedy fire, "the Aymarans rejected my offer of friendship, and so the giants must be brought to kneel before I raise them again to their feet." The young jarl's slights made in ignorance of their ancient culture could be forgiven through his offer to keep the peace, but the scolding of the one called Num-lox could not be so easily forgotten. The old ways were clear in this.

Turning away towards the camp of Yngvar and Katla, Einar stops to speak with his boon companion for perhaps the final time in this life. "Whether you support my völva, join me atop barrow hill, or choose your own path, know that our bond is strong and our threads of fate interwoven. Gods made a mockery of our ambitions this day, but to relent in the face of such petty trifles is not for us leaders of men."

Ogmund played the taglharpe as he narrated while his two fellows blew the panpipe and beat drums, the skald's voice heard clear and true by the audience of the wolf clan's youth seated all around him.

"—Can you give us lodgings for the night?” Alfodr asked the farmer Hreidmar. “We’ve no wish for a dew-bed.”

“How many are you?” said Hreidmar.

“There are two others outside,” Alfodr replied. “And we can pay for our beds with food. We were in luck today and there’s enough for everyone.”

“For my sons as well?” said Hreidmar. “For Fafnir and Regin? And for my daughters Lyngheid and Lofnheid?”

“Enough for everyone,” said Alfodr airily.

Then Hreidmar nodded without much enthusiasm, and Alfodr went to the door and called to Loptr and Honir.

“Here we are,” said Honir.

“And here’s our supper,” said Loptr cheerfully. “I bagged them both with one stone.”

When Hreidmar saw the otter draped under his nose, he stiffened. For a moment his eyes glazed, then he turned and walked out of the room.

“What’s wrong with him?” said Loptr.

Alfodr shrugged. “A cool welcome is better than a cold night,” he said.

“I’m not so sure,” said Honir.

“No,” Alfodr replied. “You never are.”

Hreidmar walked down the low passage, punching the turf walls, and found Fafnir and Regin. “Your brother Otter is dead.”

“Dead?” exclaimed the brothers, leaping up.

“Dead. And his murderers are our guests for the night.” Fafnir and Regin were outraged, and swore to avenge Otter’s death.

“There are three of them and three of us,” said Hreidmar, “so we’ll have to surprise them. Each of us must take one when I give the nod. One has rather a fine spear and might be better off without it, and one has strange shoes and could be better off barefoot. I see nothing harmful about the third. I'll use my magic to sing spells and charms to weaken and bind them.”

Fafnir and Regin did just as their father said. The three leapt onto their visitors, and the farmer-magician Hreidmar weakened their magics so that Alfodr lost his spear Gungnir, and Loptr was relieved of his sky-shoes. When the three Gods lay on the ground, bound hand and foot and their dwarven treasures confiscated, Hreidmar shouted, “My son, you’ve lulled my son. I’ll kill you all for vengeance. You’ve killed my son.”

“What does he mean?” asked Alfodr.

“Otter was our brother,” Fafnir said.

“The finest of fishermen,” said Regin.

“He had the likeness of an otter by day,” Fafnir said. “All day he lived in and beside the river.”

“And brought his prey to our father.”

“A supply of fresh fish.”

“Our brother.”

“We didn’t know this,” said Alfodr. “If we had, Loptr would never have killed him.”

“Dead is dead,” said Hreidmar.

“We didn’t know this,” Alfodr said again. “Do you think we’d have come straight to his father’s door? You must at least give us a chance to pay weregild before killing us.”

Hreidmar looked down at his three visitors and said nothing.

“I speak for the three of us,” Alfodr said. “We’ll pay as much as you demand.”

Hreidmar thought for a while. “That would be fair,” he said, “if you were to keep to your word. You must swear an oath, and if you break it, you will all pay with your heads.”

Then the three companions swore that they would raise as much as Hreidmar asked.

All right,” said the warlock, turning to Fafnir and Regin. “Where are Lyngheid and Lofnheid? Have them flay Otter and bring me his skin.”

Fafnir and Regin obeyed their father, and then Hreidmar laid out Otter’s handsome skin beside the fire. “First you must fill this with red gold,” he told the three Gods, “and then you must cover it with red gold into the bargain. It must be wholly covered. That is the ransom for the death of my son.”

“So be it,” said Alfodr. And he rolled over until he was close enough to Loptr to whisper in his ear.

Loptr listened carefully and then he said, “Let me go for the gold. Let me go, and hold the other two as hostages.”

So Hreidmar untied Loptr's bonds and, with a snatch of a look and a jeering laugh that left Hreidmar and his sons and even Honir uneasy, Loptr threw open the door and ran out into the night."

"So ends the tale for now," Ogmund abruptly consoled the throng of immediately disappointed children when the weathered skald finally spotted Einar. "What did you think of tonight's story Jarl?" He asked when they were well on their way back to their bedrolls.

Einar smiled. "You provide them insight into a world they do not yet know Ogmund. Hreidmar did not list Otter among his sons, yet grieved his death, and when offered amends, sought to profit down to the whisker from it. You think," Einar paused, "that the Aymarans care more for earning battle glory than avenging our trespasses against them and their nameless heirs."

"Perhaps. Our tales differ in many respects, neither is finished, and seldom few are the sagas where all questions are answered. Their wisest may hope that we best their strongest in order to prove our worth as allies. Even to them, they who predate this civilization in ruins, the Archipelago once boundless must be shrinking."

"Then let us see it done."

TURN TWO Actions​

1) Bylgja, a (stormlord) storm genasi, as needed shocks/freezes the flooded basements of the ruins for 23 Freemen, 5 Berserkers, and 3 Skald-kappi to capture Aymaran croclets in nets or by breaking apart chunks of ice (TRADITION of fishing) to then assimilate as thralls with tools of magic, education, punishment, and reward. Throughout the city of stone, baited traps are laid out in advance to assist hunters in ensnaring stragglers that get away from the initial round of draining.

2) Jarl Einar (and his cat familiar Jörmungandr), Thane Yngvar, Thane Katla, 6 cannons, 7 Housecarls, 21 Jestir, 15 Seawolves, 5 Beinagrind-fellers, 18 Freemen, and 6 Ritter-knights (among them Sir Hjalti) set out to goad the warriors of the Aymaran tribe into battle by making a spectacle of Aymaran thralls dragging away the trees their march into the forest felled for the 16 Freemen (and the 15 Seawolves and the 5 Beinagrind-fellers until the battle starts) to sharpen into stakes and plant in the ground around the sides and back of the entrance of the barrow, as well as erecting scorn poles (to be secretly used as range markers) adorned with impaled spawn pool dead. Cannons remain just out of sight, beyond the crest of the hill, and the Jestir hide in the forest to the sides of the 'trail' in the hopes of avoiding detection to later ambush the Aymarans from the rear, both forces to be revealed when Jarl Einar (or if unable to Thane Yngvar/Thane Katla/Hrónn acting in his stead) blow a horn. Jarl Einar will challenge Num-lox to a holmgang before the battle if given the opportunity.
 
Last edited:
Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3

The crabs swiftly barrelled through the water for thruneswatch... the back of their vessel cracking open like an egg and disgorging the scores of Crab-folk onto the sand and shallows of the beach just off of the jungle coast.

Meltbor hit land first, leaving odd tracks in the sand behind him, rapidly washed away by the waves... A great serpent with black scales and eyes like the stars -- obviously some kind of Loa or local god, Waved it's head hypnotisingly at the Elder Crab, and the crabs that began to gather in curiosity behind him.

"You wish destruction on my sacred forest, but you will serve..."

(BLAM BLAM CRACK WHOOOOOOOOOSH!) Melbor interrupted the creature with several bolts of lightning and a scathing gout of flame that knocked down whole stands of trees and set them alight. The "Loa" fled like mad as the rest of the crabs charged forward.

"Not interested" Said Melbor as he targeted a new swathe of virgin forest, blasting it into charcoal as the rock breakers dragged the black wood by the bundle into the sea. The youngsters Chopped down smaller plants and bushes and stacked them in piles to be burned... As well as grabbing any fleeing animal for immediate roasting and if not eaten on the spot, dragged back into the ship on a sledge made of floating charcoal.

A large group of Crabs, etymologically, is known as a "Cast" --which was right in theme with Meltibor Casting lighting and Flame Cone over and over again until he fell on hs back exhausted, needing to be righted by his comrades. They burned and cut a vast swathe into the wood, securing Gaining 10 units of Charcoal.

It was then that they saw another ship approaching at speed, an elven craft fashioned like a northern longship, the wood of which shined in the water and the masts grew like tree-trunks from the spine of the ship. Melbor wondered if the wood was magical, and if it would burn well... but then wondered if these newcomers potentially represented any threat or opportunity...

ENCOUNTER!
Chordling Chordling Prince Airdan and Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 are both on the same island in the same place. The elves want to preserve nature, while the crabs want to burn it all down. This can be navigated in forum post or on discord -- just make sure Beckoncall Beckoncall knows how the encounter is navigated.

Melbor was scooped off the ground by the youngsters and pointed at the arriving elves. The elders were the only ones able to communicate in a common tongue... though Melbor always wondered what elves might taste like, and if their magic woods were any better for a giant furnace...

(2nd order con't)
 
Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3

action 2: rest of the crew go to investigate the ghost ship.

without the legionary caste to guard them (as was their task to guard the wood-gatherers)

The remaining 2 elders, sea treaders, and rambunctious crab-youths approached the shipwreck near their home isle with caution... They were not prepared for the biggest fight, even though the elders were powerful in their own right.

The sea treaders silently drifted with the current around the shipwreck, not making noise like the chittering youngsters lead by their elder brethren.

The noisier part of the task force was quickly confronted by the ghostly and skeletal crew of the lost ship... the ghosts were half orcs, every one, and looked proud and vicious in their defense. The biggest ghost stepped forward... Psychically speaking to the elders in his own pirate voice...

"Oi! Watch her step, crustaceans! This be the wreck of the Triberaven, and I was captain Glordook Ghul-glut! There only be two things to discuss!"

"What is it?" Elder Tegbor and Cembor replied... as the sea treaders spread out into a most advantageous ambush pattern.

The pirate ghost replied: "YOU COME FIGHT US AND SEND OUR SOULS ON IF YOU CAN THE OLD FASHION WAY, OR YOU BRING GLORDOOK GHUL-GLUT A FRIGGIN' ALLFLAME!"

"An All-Fl.." Cembor began to repeat.

"A BLOODY ALLFLAME! YOU DON'T HAVE ONE YOU GOTS TO FIGHT!"

DECISION POINT:
A) Attack the ghost crew?
OR
B) Back away respectfully?
OR
C) Something else? Maybe you've got an all-flame somewhere? An Allflame as Cembor once learned, was the soul of a great fire -- they only had one allflame, and that was of their forge. Perhaps trading it away was not a grand idea... but neither was fighting large numbers of ghosts without holy or magical weapons.

What would the Crab-Folk do?
 
Dest Dest :

Terren Laevon sat on a mysterious power. The power of the SHOW -- for who knows how long the circus had been on the march before Terren Inherited it? How many applauded it, followed it, put their belief in it's tricks and magic... how long could such an entity be regarded so before it developed a presence, or some would say a soul, of it's own? Terren never "Met" the heart of the circus, but many times he felt it... and in the corner of his eyes when he was most tired or stressed, he could see it move. Regardless of the circumstances, regardless of the environment, regardless of Terren... the SHOW went on...

Thruneswatch was certainly in a state of Excitement. Their ship flew by the Elven Longship of Chordling Chordling PRINCE AIRDAN as it wheeled to seemingly confront some strange ship-apparatus that was crawling with Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 CRAB PEOPLE that were burning the island's forests down and taking all the wood for charcoal.

Some of the carnies thought it was something that should be watched, the situation -- or even something to become involved with... but all had thought that the new space cleared in the forest would be an excellent patch of land to set up the circus, if even for a day or two... amaze the natives, perhaps? Practice their craft? The SHOW approved. Terren could feel it.

ENCOUNTER! Chordling Chordling and Huntertabbysandshark3 Huntertabbysandshark3 are at the same island as Terren Laevon's Circus Dest Dest -- these characters can communicate in forum or on discord... the present situation is tension about whether the crab-folk should burn the entire forest down, with the elves having a mind that it should not...

The Circus ship whirled with agility around the edges of Thruneswatch, stopping only briefly to find the lighthouse occupied, but quiet after dark. Thinking better to avoid a confrontation, they followed the clues from the lighthouse and dug up the 2 units of Thrunewine and found the Golden Mermaid Figurehead. The figurehead could be converted into 4 wealth or attached to the ship's prow as a blessing and symbol of status. (Decision point, mark notes accordingly, inform Beckoncall Beckoncall of your choice!)

After "Liberating" the goodies they set sail for the native side of the island... the Hloloc tribe, and humans they were. They were normally a very gruff people, but quickly disarmed and dazzled by the carnies smallest tricks and shenanigans. They did not take stock in gold, but they said, for a show, they would offer some barter in exchange...

(Barter only! no wealth!)

native beads and adornments : 1 unit of anything else
Uncut Rubies : 1 unit of anything else
"Godsbeard" Healing plants: 2 units of anything else

The above could be traded for, but for a show -- depending on it's success, the Hloloc would offer not only their simple adornment... but uncut gems in quantity they would not specify -- "Weight of Magic show of power will justify the trade!" Said Tlaloc, Chief of the Hloloc.

Further scouting Thruneswatch the burning forest had led all manner of beast to run from the jungle -- one group of carnies spotted a humongous snake, perhaps suitable to be an act or oddity in the show... if the circus had time and risk to obtain it.

Beyond that they drank and ate and bedded with the Hloloc who seemed all too friendly with what they called the circus folk -- "Diamondbacks" they called them... perhaps for harlequins of old that had becoming symbolic in their culture. The Circus venture is Restocked.

So, capture a snake? Put on a show for barter? investigate the trouble brewing in the burning jungle? Decisions decisions... and never enough time...

The Hloloc consider the circus "friends of reverence" and you can note this place as a friendly port that will also repair your ship.
 
Oyster Isle, near the Vaal tower
"You know, reading about ancient architecture is one thing. But actually seeing an example with my own eyes? It's much better." Tyarra noted, frantically scribbling in a notebook, her pencil producing detailed drawings of the more interesting segments of the tower's architecture with surprising speed, framed with short notes "Two whole ages without regular maintenance, and yet it still stands. I'm surprised at how resilient some ancient structures turn out to be. Then again, I suppose it had to be built to last. Without a major settlement nearby, the inhabitants couldn't count on reliable maintenance. Though this begs the question of why exactly was this tower built here. It's a relatively isolated location. Imitation of Azlanti style clearly suggests some importance beyond mere utility. It certainly isn't a military outpost or a colony. Perhaps it is indeed a research base. Which in turn begs the question of why is it located here. Supposedly, there are Azlanti ruins to the north of the archipelago. It would make much more sense to build something closer to the research site. Then again, there might be something close to the ruins which made permanent settlement impossible there. But if that is the case..."

"Tyarra." Telren cut the scholar off "Wouldn't it make more sense to see what's inside the tower before you start theorizing?"

"Right. I suppose I got a bit carried away."

Turn actions
1. 40 chorus, 8 nyxian judgement and 2 liturgists of Sol (Ostag Sydr and Akem Ithed) remain on the Grey Maidens to perform charity work, recruit more crew and spread the Cult's religion
2. Perseverance sets sail for the Oyster Isle, a shore party disembarks to investigate the Vaal tower, 25 chorus, 5 judgement and liturgist Joren Daaner remain on the ship​
 
Last edited:
Twist Twist :

Orders:

The Caridad will land on the NorthWest of Oyster Isle near the Tower(?) with 60 Maimed, 3 Alabaster Nuns (Masako, Marianne and Jane) and 2 Redeemers scouting and exploring the immediate area surrounding the tower (Herbalist/Castellan/ Biology specialty used if applicable)

While Father Damian, 2 Alabaster Nuns (Marianne/Josephine), 1 Redeemer and 11 Accursed will scout and explore the Tower itself (Architecture/ Translator speciality used if applicable)

___________________

The Caridad landed on Oyster Isle just ahead of the brutal tropical storm which seemed to pass right behind them... black clouds spewing thunder and lightning and a blistering torrent just dancing off the coast while the Caridad came to a grinding halt in the shallows.

The stream of the afflicted and their attendants got wider on the shore until it became a river, and a river became an lake of the maimed... around the Observation tower were hundreds of types of succulents... many the Nuns identified as both rare and possessing medicinal qualities... but as with all things scarce and precious, decisions needed to be made:
DECISION POINT:
A) Take the best medicines and make prophylactic tinctures to make the sick aboard the Caridad less transmissible, and safer to deal with other folk, (removes some negative morale with outsiders)
OR
B) Take the best medicines and make balms and ointments that would sooth the pain and progression of the sick folks ailments. (increases health and morale inside the venture)

The Vaal Observatory (clearly ancient) had a main door that was covered with gears and locks, which all seemed to slide back, roll away or disengage at the approach of the Nuns and the Redeemer... Strange, but it revealed that few if any had come before them to this place, at least to pick it of valuables.

DECISION POINT:

A) Loot the observatory of archeological treasures (+4 wealth)
OR
B) leave the "Vaaluables" in peace.

From the observatory, Father Damien and his task group climbed the tower to the top of the observatory -- Where they found a strange and ancient logbook (the early entries were in inscrutable Vaal script, but the last dozen entries were written in a find diplomatic hand one of the nurses was trained to recognize. Father Damian and Most-holy Josephine moved onward to study the observascope itself, both where it was presently trained, and recent settings that spun a veritable orrery of rails and spheres to move the top of the tower about...

In the final entries of the Journal it related the story of a Lone Muurdain Explorer and Vaal historian who was abandoned by his crew on the island and forced to take up residence for years in the observatory, though where he was now, none could tell.

"Day 46 in the "eye of the Vaal" -- The treasures of the forgotten ones are largely undisturbed, ad I have spent weeks copying and documenting both their art and script in the hope of eventually breaching it's secrets of one of the greatest cultures ever to exist for which so little is known, so well swept away were their achievements in the second wind age"

Day 125 -- The caravan sets off for the dawn of nothing, and yet I must make haste. Find here keys for the lowest caste runes of the ancient Vaal (Gain Peon-cypher of the Vaal) but my investigations have gotten the attention of numerous BARROWS scattered across the land. Designated "Grievers" these Vaal constructs have become increasingly active and active in their attempts to leave their tombs and gain access to the Observatory. While I can subsist on little more than rodents and succulents (lest I attract the attention of recently arrived crocadile creatures) -- I can only expect the grievers to leave me in peace for only so long...

Day 212 -- The book is tossed open to a random blank page further back in the book. There is dried blood all over the pages.

____________________________

Looking through the observatory the telescopes were firmly trained on Smuggler's Shiv -- Of which several points of interest could be spied on the great isle, that dwarfed any one island elsewhere in the archipelagos. The Telescope showed:

4 Azlant Pillars spied on the far away island of the Shiv covered in vines and Ba-relief of absurdly ancient origin. Images of the Azlant defending the island with freak waves and rising reefs, A cracked pillar reflecting images of a ancient device that flung "Bolts of Blood?" at interlopers, An intact pillar relating how the Azlant could drain the inner bays of the island to access hidden temples, and a cracked Pillar that showed the visage of a horrible and ancient flying creature, a twisted degenerate descendant of the dragons.

Another setting showed a low flooded beach covered with caves, ancient unholy runes of "Necril" were chiseled into the living rock... the language of the ancient dead... These caves were at the base of cliffs where a ruined lighthouse, surrounded by a village of grotesque savages, danced and mock-fought each other for food and mating rights.

There was more to see from the observatory, and in fact it could be pointed at any island in the 90 degrees east and north of it, but it would take time to learn how to use it without damaging it (further actions required!)

Far to the Southwest from atop the observatory Pat Pat some northland sea-raider types seemed to be building structures in the ruins on the opposite side of the island, and south of the observatory hunting gangs of giant crocadile men, (Aymarans) sought and felled the largest prey of land and sea...

Father Damien knew he could keep his people safe in the observatory.... but the book suggested that this could only be done for so long...
 
Crocodile Crocodile

1. Table of Shadows Meeting
2. Research Isle Cluster pictured below

Isle Research.JPG


Julian rolled up the map of Port Bax and put it on the shelf. It seemed like the Pazai were a Hungry Python and Port Bax was a foolish monkey... The more the powers of Bax played with the predator, the more entangled they became. Soon there would be precious little Port Bax could do for the Pazai, but Plenty the Pazai still had left to do to port Bax...

Where was he?

Oh yes, the Charts of Isles off Soth BeVel... The oldest charts Julian had, which he'd have to admit were getting very old indeed, Called the Island Avawarin -- from the late high elf, meaning "Compromise" -- and the island was one integrated piece. Most interestingly there was a great gap in it appearing on the local charts at all, but when it did it was sectioned into four slices and had an ominous looking tower in the middle inlet between the isles.

The Island was now called "Brekhnil Lohairho" -- Late-Southern Dark elf meaning "A (small) misunderstanding" -- curious. It was doubtful that the structures shown on his chart persisted in their current form, more likely ruins if anything at all -- it definitely begged a closer look to bring things into focus. Many charts by pirates strangely called the Tower "Astrid" ... "Ash Terhid?" (Don't shoot?) Knowing the elven tongues was a good investment of time but it often lead one's mind in the strangest of directions... so many words, so many meanings...

A bell rang deep in the bowels of the ship, and Julian put these charts away too and put on an crisp, white apron. His wife had something special for him, it was promised, and Julian had to admit he was in the mood for a surprise...
 
Pat Pat

Einar didn't understand the customs of the Aymarans. So naturally some of the things he hoped to bring to pass did not materialize.

Ice was powerful magic against the croclets, and many were caught -- but training them with magic unspecified proved illusive. Doubly so Education failed them, as the baby Aymarans were far more obsessed with eating each other than learning lessons or even acknowledging rewards and punishment. At mornings scores of croclet thralls had been taken... (the biggest ones) -- Only for half of them to be cannibalized by the noontimes, and all that remained escaping by nightfall of the time they were to be broken.

Setting traps for them also turned out to be a dire mistake -- for it was in getting ensnared and escaping they learned the tricks and traps of the Iorund, them that grew. Showing an Aymaran was nothing -- but giving it a puzzle forced them to be cunning, or strong, or slippery, or whatever adaptations were needed to render such traps inert. The new upcrop of Croclets were well Camoflaged, Cautious, and mean. They continued harrying Einar Jarl's community as the Jarl has harried them -- stomping fires, hurling waste from the peripheries, and eating anything, Food or Tool, that was ever left out.

And so the little elusive croclets did slowly spiral into nasty-sized pests... and the men of the songs of Brodir slept poorly with the ubiquitous croaking and thieving of the baby aymaran. Build sites were ravaged, storehouses filled with broken objects and mischievous croclet excrement.

It was hoped that the enslavement and treatment of the croclets would bring the Aymarans out onto the field of battle... but it did not. It lead to more cunning Aymarans rapidly coming of age and joining their brethren. Croaking imitations of the curses of the Northmen, bleating loudly vulgarities from the swamps and the forests as if to mock the Jarl and his people all the more.

Had the Aymarans the sense to put it all together, they would likely have thanked the humans for helping to raise a quicker more vicious crop of offspring... Such babes were generally left at the mercy of one another, and a croclet, while often a decent meal for a fellow croclet, could not hope to be the tutors the men of Einar proved to be.

And so the Aymarans did not take to the fields to face the assembly of the Northlanders -- the cannons remained cool and the cannonballs set (those that were not eaten the biggest croclets, at least) for nothing, not powder nor shot displeased the belly of an Aymaran so. The little bastards continued to be hunted and killed -- and it only made them nastier... Before they joined their forerunners in the south...

As for the staging area amidst the burrows -- several of the hills began to audibly begin "cranking" and "ticking" as if filled with a swarm of tiny clockworks. The men of the isle had to wonder if they had made a mistake disturbing them... To what end, another mystery...
 
Martydi Martydi :

1. 40 chorus, 8 nyxian judgement and 2 liturgists of Sol (Ostag Sydr and Akem Ithed) remain on the Grey Maidens to perform charity work, recruit more crew and spread the Cult's religion
2. Perseverance sets sail for the Oyster Isle, a shore party disembarks to investigate the Vaal tower, 25 chorus, 5 judgement and liturgist Joren Daaner remain on the ship



Oyster Island was seeing some popularity, and with that came the curiosity of the Archipelago's pirates -- The Perseverence was not assailed by these buccaneers, but they certainly did not mistake it's passing. A sloop of War and a Venture runner did circle the main of Oyster Isle, examining the workings of Pat Pat adrian_ adrian_ , northlanders, Martydi Martydi Twist Twist and the faithful alike.

DECISION POINT:
A) Any at Oyster Isle may engage either of these pirate ships,
OR
B) Attempt a parley with these fast, elusive vessels...

Meanwhile back on the Grey Maidens the Cult of Sol and Nyx did find a foothold. The community had plenty of folk who did not fancy themselves either witches or pirates, and there was little work on the maidens for folk that were neither -- as such the Chorus Grew by +30 members, and a small temple, erected from the wrecks of three adjacent houses was made manifest for the Cult once the squatters had been rousted off and the deed to the land falling into the hands of the faithful. While still considered strangers and weird folk, the cult found a place in Grey Maidens and who knows? Perhaps a cresh to grow in.

Martydi Martydi gains 1 unit of sugar, tobacco, salt, and wine. (inherited from supplicants/scavenged)

As for the Perseverence, it arrived at Oyster Isle to find that the tower was already occupied...

By Twist Twist LEPERS, no less, and their fanatic leaders of some unspoken religion. It remained to be seen if they would share study of the Observatory, or be locked away from it -- but the Cult of the Siblings could also harvest the magical and medicinal succulents scattered around the observatory.

Just studying the outside of the observatory Scholar Tyarra learned that this was no simple observatory. Vaal words were easy to confuse -- but there was no mistaking to Scholar Tyrarra the difference between "Spyglass" and "Scope" ... a curious discovery indeed -- but would they need to fight with the Lepers and their attendants for a turn at the observatory? Could they afford to risk contamination from the afflicted to even study the site anymore?

Such were questions that would quickly come to a head....
 
Lazaro1505 Lazaro1505 :

Princess Despduis’s adventure:

Turn 2

Resolving issues first:

-For the abandoned ship, only wealth was gathered not seeking to incite greater hostilities with their neighbors...


-Spare the DRYADS instead of killing them.

Actions: Learn from the DRYADS (5 Shamanwings, 2 Directors) “Firstly… we must ask first if they have any useful skills that can aid us within our journey, such as navigating under the stars or survival from the landscape around us. If not, then we shall simply learn their ways of magic, to better harness our own abilities as well.”

Sadly the dryads could only teach the specialties of Herbalism, Medicine, and Forestry. It costs 1 wealth to teach a Shamanwing 2 of these specialties.
As far as magical training goes however the dryads were happy to share their knowledge:

Nature magic gained: Summon Bog Beasts (Combat, Gas Cloud, Poison Spit), Panic, Haruspex (Searches for/IDs magical nature sites), Tame Killer Mantis, Swarm Bolt

Water Magic gained: Drown (Group), Call Kraken (ritual/price), Scrying Pool, Numbness, Ice shield.

Construct Fire spears using beeswax (1 Director, 60 Workers, 30 Pincers)

“By experimenting with the very beeswax we create and attaching it to spears, we could possibly create a easy to make flammable spears that can be utilized by our units for better destruction of key structures that any potential enemies may have. The workers and director shall work on making the spears while the Pincers test their effectiveness”

By happenstance the swarm found flint on the coasts near their home. While a more efficient/effective way of lighting the spears would be useful... the first version of "Candle-Spears" Was so far a success. Training with fire would be important to control the fear of most beevarians charged with handling it -- but it was basic enough a concept that the swarm produced prototypes, then a standard weapon squads would carry on one designated bee.
 
The Imperial Expedition

1648351230237.png


Prince Tian was on the highest balcony of the Arafelle palace, overlooking Lavaslate with a conflicted emotion before sighing. He looked at the Dragon Scale Robe hanging from his left hand and then his right hand where he tried to summon a ball of fire but there was no magical reaction. He passed the robe to the Scholar Song Hui before looking back at the horizon.

"Tell the Celestial Unit to use the spell provided by my father, the Emperor. Send the scale back to the Dragon Palace with this letter." Tian took out a letter from his pocket and passed it to Hui. "We just recently arrived in the Archipelago and now we've completed the main task of the Emperor. I may have lost the divine blood and my magic, but in exchange, we were able to retrieve the scale that will make the Dynasty more resilient. The luck and destiny of our Empire grow stronger. Plus, it's not like I'm without hope."

"As you wish, Your Imperial Highness Tian. Just know this, your Divine Blood may have been taken from you but you are still the domineering Crown Prince Tian that we of the Tianshen Faction support. Our loyalty will forever be with you. " Song Hui took the letter and bowed.

"Loyalty, huh." Tian looked back at Song Hui and smiled. His eyes deep and his gaze seemed like it would pierce the sweating scholar's soul. "You're dismissed."

"The venture continues. I will lead the Empire's force in subjugating the Archipelago and seeking more Draconic Scales." The Prince muttered as he turned around and continued to. As for his blood and power, there are many ways to restore and even strengthen it. The Orb of Regret, Imperial Transplantation, Horror Bloodline, Ancient Draconic Items, and the Elemental King of Fire. He is in no rush to restore it now, he must first focus on developing this entire island that the Empire has now claimed before moving to address the problem of his bloodline.

Xia Hu entered the chambers and knelt behind him. "Your Majesty, we cannot confirm who but counter-intelligence suggest that one of your siblings may have some spy amongst the Scholars."

"Interesting. I don't think it's Song Hui, he is my Right-Hand on civil aspects are you are on military aspects. Investigate the others but don't skip Hui even if I personally do not suspect him. We must be prudent."

"As you wish, Your Highness. The Corps and I will do our best even if we cannot match Sister Qiang and her Shadow Dancers in this field."

Tian looked at Commander Hu and chuckled. "Do not worry. I included her and the shadow dancers in my request for reinforcements to the Emperor. You love-birds will meet again soon."

"Thank you, Your Highness." The usually stoic Xia Hu broke into a smile upon knowing that he will soon met Xie Qiang. But he only gave himself a couple seconds to smile before he once-again assumed the stoic expression of the Empyrean Commander.

"What of the undead child?"

"The Celestials and the fallen cinder queen awaits for you in the dungeon, Your Highness."

"Very well." Tian waved his sleeves and began to head to the dungeon. Xia Hu bowed his head as he passed before following behind him.

---

Arafelle was bound in the dungeon looking listless. Tian looked at her and frowned. The Cinderqueen's appearance as a little girl made him feel a little bit of guilt which he swiftly erased. This little girl is probably older than her. She is undead and the leader of the enemy forces that forced him to strike a deal with the Fire King. Tian stared at her then looked at the Celestial Unit.

"Subdue her and convert her to the Dynasty's ranks. Do what you must to achieve this. I care not for the process, only the results." The Celestial Magicians looked at him and bowed. Arafelle looked at him with fear as Tian left the dungeons.
​
Order 1: The Conversion
5 Celestial Magicians, Arcana Scholar, Survival/Treasure-Hunting Scholar
The Celestial Unit will use their methods to convert the Cinder Queen to the ranks of the Empire. As per the Prince's instruction, he cares not about the process, only the results so the magicians are free to use any methods they can. The Cinder Queen will be a loyal follower of the Prince, one way or another. And once she is converted, she will yet again raise the Fiery Wights and Skeleton Riders, possibly even Eddiel with his leftover gauntlet, making him Quince-Dead. She will raise her old army or as much of it as she could and the only difference is they will now be subservient to the Prince and in turn, the Empire. The Prince seeks tireless soldiers, sailors, and workers. The 2 Units of Raw Bone Mana is allocated for this task.

Arafelle would also then lead the Imperial Forces to turn over their resource reserves to the Empire. Uncovering the riches and treasures of not only her castle but also the island. Additionally, they also want to hear the story of the undead phoenix and a trace of it. Possibly even have Arafelle call its pet back.

Order 2: The Development | Develop Lavaslate
Settling Scholar, Survival/Treasure-Hunting Scholar, Shipwright Scholar, Navigation/Cartography Scholar, 70 workers, 7 Taskmasters, 18 Empyrean Guards, 1 Crown Prince
With the old foundations of Arafelle(their resources) and the new imperial foundations, the now-strengthened Imperial Forces will start a massive development on Lavaslate. The skeleton and imperial workers will further their mining on silver and iron as well as also taking over Arafelle's copper mining operation. These mineral wealth will be processed back in the processing centers of the Imperial Outpost. At the same time, scouts are also deployed to begin exploring and surveying the island in its entirety to look for other mineral source. They assume that they would obtain more information from this compared to what the people from Port Bax possess since they are not obstructed by any undead. From their newly gained resources(If the expedition gets wealth from the Arafelle's treasury), the expedition will build a port-base and connect it to the castle. It is intended to receive ships and resources from the Empire as well as act as the Forward Operating Base for current and future Imperial operation in the archipelago.

Note: Lavaslate is renamed to Longmen or "Dragon's Gate"​
 
Last edited:
932b62825b44ca01385854777bf3a5ef.jpg


≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡

"Peggy, this letter may be late, The Ladybird has been shipwrecked on Ghostfort Island. Came upon this whirling water, as if someone had poked a whole in the bucket and all the water was running out, in my forty years serving as a captain for the Tavaran Greater Tobacco Company, sailing up and down the coast of Tavara, I have never seen anything like it, I tell you what.

'Ghostfort' doesn't have a lot of ghost, but it does have some mages. They smoke 'local plants' which I think is archipelago lingo for illegal narcotics, and if it isn't, what they smoke is an inferior tobacco product, I tell you what. Yesterday, I saw them sitting in a circle and talking to the plants, plants Peggy, these druids ain't right.

We did find Umbrafina Radisicus! Umbrafina Radisicus, I tell you Peggy, I never thought I'd see the day I'd get to personally blend Umbrafina Radisicus and Tavarian Tobacco, I've dreamed of this moment for the past four decades.

Regards,
Your Husband,
Captain Henry 'Hank' Williams, Captain of The Ladybird, seller of Tobacco and Tobacco Accessories"

≡≡≡≡≡

Lady Victoria Varna,

Bill has spoken well of you, I am glad you were satisfied with the smooth, clean burning flavor of Tavarian Tobacco. Should we cross paths in the future, and our goals be aligned, I am authorized by the Tavarian Greater Tobacco Company to establish mutually beneficial agreements.

Bill cannot read nor write, so he has asked me to write on his behalf...

Regards,
Captain Henry 'Hank' Williams,
Captain of The Ladybird, seller of Tobacco and Tobacco Accessories

≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡ ≡≡≡≡≡

"Dammit Bill, I'm not writing that," Hank scowled as he looked up from his desk to the balding, overweight man who was rubbing his hands together in giddy excitement, his legs rubbed together as he moved from foot to foot as if he was utterly incapable of standing still at the moment, "You have to, Hank!" Bill pleaded, desperation tinged his voice, "she kissed the letter! She remembers me! I told you she was the sweetest, most prettiest woman there ever was," his small, beady eyes glinted with something other then the normal lost, hopelessness.

"Look Bill, I know you're excited but remember Lenore-" Hank started as he look down at the letter he was writing with a frown, he set down the quill and started to fill his pipe, using his well practiced thirteen step tobacco pipe preparing process to clear his mind and buy him some time from this nonsense. The stuff Bill was asking him to write was vulgar, he was a Captain sailing for the wonderful Tavarian Greater Tobacco Company, for God's sake, not a teenager in touch with their feelings, the very idea sent a shiver down his spine, writing their 'beloved'.

"But she kissed the letter, Hank! She kissed it! She wants to kiss me!" Bill said with a squeel that should not have been able to come from a man of his size.

"Dammit Bill! Never make that sound again, for God's sakes, there are people around!" Hank said horrified as he struck a match to lit his pipe, his eyes scanned his quarters checking to be sure no one else was inside to hear that.

"Just tell her that she's the prettiest woman in the whole world and whenever I think of her, which is always, my heart beats like crazy and I just want to hold her, make her breakfast and brush her hair and help her achieve all her goals and have a bunch of kids and when we're alone-"

"Bwaa!" Hank let out a horrified gasp as Bill was about to share intimate moments, his pipe nearly tumbled free from his mouth but only his sheer love and devotion to tobacco let him catch it with his teeth at the last moment, preserving that glorious tobacco, "For God's sake Bill!"

"Oh, I'm sorry Ha-Captain Hank, I'm just so excited," Bill said as he looked at the ground and pressed his fingers together.

The door to his captain swung open as Rusty Shackles came in, on his back was a large cylindrical device that looked like it contained liquid, "Captain," Rusty said, a rolled cigarette between his fingers as he 'saluted' Hank, "I have come to report my suspicions of the Druid Double-Agents."

"Oh, lord, what is it now Rusty?" Hank said as he rubbed his forehead, already feeling a headache coming on.

"They rejected my offer to clean the fort of infestations," Rusty said before taking a long drag on his cigarette, "Offered to do it for a few coins and they refused. Said something about natural habituate." he made quotations with his fingers as he spoke of the ridiculous idea. Infestations were infestations.

"I kinda like them, especially rats, they're so cute when they dive into the pots to swim around like little dogs," Bill said happily... his smile fell off as he realized both men were starring at him, "Well, I don't let them do it now and I clean the pots! Usually."

"You are a sad man, Bill Dauty," Rusty said as he took another puff on his cigarette, "Now, I've been investigating these so called 'Druids' and I believe they are secretly agents for the bug people. "

"Oh, lord, not this again," Hank groaned as he took a long draw on his pipe to settle his nerves.

"Yes, again! And again and again until we have defeated the bug person menace," Rusty said as he flicked up the dark glasses over his eyes, "What is that?" He asked as he pointed to the letter Hank was currently writing.

"Oh! Oh! That's the letter to Lady Varna~" Bill said as he almost swooned on his feet.

"No such thing as a 'Lady Varna', no human woman would ever be attracted to Bill," Rusty said, "She's probably a bug person who has crawled into the body of a woman and is controlling her from the inside! Or the bug people have someone 'copied' her and are now using her for their own means," he gently tugged on his hat, "Yes, its brilliant. No wonder I can't find evidence on the bug people, they have cloned people they use to destroy and hide evidence of their existence! Of course. It all makes sense now."

A vein on Hank's forehead pulsed ominously as his temper was starting to flare. He had spent a long time reviewing the damage to his Ladybird, talking to the crew, salvaging the cargo had already stretched his patience and now he had to deal with these two dumbasses, Hank opened his mouth to start yelling and threatening the two men to leave before he started taking names and kicking asses when the door to his chambers opened yet again, but this time it was good, reliable, First Mate Boom with a platter toped with four tankards of grog.

Boom walked over to the desk and set down the platter as each of the men stepped forward to take one of the tankards, "I-Tell-You-What-Man-Them-Dem-Whirly-Pool-Man-Dang-Near-Came-Clear-Came-Crashing-Down-On-Dem-There-Ladybird-Dang-Like-An-Apolocyspe-Man-Like-Um-Dang-Oh-The-Horror-The-Horror," Boom said in rapid fire as he took a sip of his grog and looked off into the distance as if he was remembering something truly awful.

"Yep," Hank said as he took a sip.

"Yep," Rusty followed suit.

"Yep," Bill said as he inched towards the desk to get another look at the letter.

"Mhm," Boom said as he took a sip


Orders/Actions

1. Captain Hank Williams will try to create a new tobacco blend using Tavarian Tobacco and Umbrafina Radisicus
2 Units of Tavarian Tobacco Available
Umbrafina Radisicus -- clean, cool, flavor ++, aromatic + Value ++ SCARCE/FINITE

2. Barter with locals
15 Spinning Handgunners will assist [+Boosts Product Sales when not in combat]. Try to sell Goods and Gifts [2 Units Available] for wealth and repairs for The Ladybird, depending on how good a price/what's available, Tavarian Tobacco [or the new blend if its created] can be traded as well.

Free Action
Respond to missive from Lady Victoria Varna [ @welian ]
​
 
Last edited:
Captain Dagget Daggerson

Turn 3


3 Days Before His Journey Began


i_WV1kbfZvVHsoJWRIdMmOAlmmP4a9fMVaks9Th3JOczoHJ3c8ufRYVNB4tunolHeMN4u6uoV1bYdUsz5HZ1Igm0RiPzew6KgV7IATICuLWTZSAiPWk6Gj4Ve2CVg49P4qkxwVPJ



Dagget Daggerson looked upon all that he assembled before him. Was it easy to do, no? Not all goblins are easy to get together for such an esoteric goal such as his, to start a successful port town and make lots of coin. If, say he had wanted to go conquering each and every island, why, he was sure to have gotten support from one of the clans. Even given lots of resources and bodies to work with.


But Daggerson was not at that point in his life.


He was at the point where he wanted to make his own way. Where he wanted to be the one in charge and be the one that is getting rich. And being rich in the very way that he wanted. Getting to live in the lap of luxury with his own place to call his.


It’ll be a veritable playground of fun, not only for the goblins under his command, but also all those that will come to visit. It’s why he has to make this place a Grand Venture. The Grandest Port that ever did have in the Untamed Archipelago.


And all that visit will remember the name Captain Dagget Daggerson.


—------------------------------------------

Present Day


d7ITSkwQSLJH2HOjCHiyvZCE7a0SswsCD3qPrhosXEV3R-jvpsXhEqNtdzFVMp9F-xlhR0SEMjQ1ojgWNHtP6lbFlmE65ukUMQGjKZg_pBGE0UIZKYTx-NsItmOFNymmz5eoK7rE


Goblin Representation, not actual size or shape


Huzzah. It was a glorious time. This sandy, desert Island called Sandrift had mana crystals, semi precious stones, Large Scorpions and even a Mausoleum of unknown duplicity. He looked around at the crays scurrying around, some clearly attempting to chase some scorpions that were just too fast for them.


This could be the place. With this type of starting terrain, others wouldn’t want to steal what they got. At least not until they’ve already built things up. And well, by then, their defenses will be up to snuff to stop any of that sort of chicanery. He wouldn’t have any Pirates or Rowdy Nations stealing what is rightfully his.


He got this venture up and running with his own two hands. And the only obligations he has are the two investors that he set up at the early parts of thai journey. Not belonging to no one or nothing.


“Let’s get those towers up, boys! The sooner, the better we can get an early handle on spotting any incoming ships, or Large Scorpions. I ain’t taken any chances!”


The towers were starting to take shape. He figured with the given magic of his Tinker Thinkers, the available in abundance Sand and even some of their actual materials such as wood and the like, that he could hopefully get something up.


Only time will tell with this bunch, but he’ll have all the necessary crew helping out. He's got architects and engineering experts for a reason after all.

—------------------------------------------------

ijB9ldgssuxKhJWP8Pv7IXjb6nlNhq35b8g3z-VzJZDYVZ2Bc1xLX0-qmKG0B1PfILCT3gy7PFSUTFt87cEMFbg6eIVZEZopD0xn0wkV5uK1p_TQ9S4EpkNPpVPHHjSolWDm80v7



The Mausoleum. It taunted them with its delicious crypty secrets that lay buried and unburied by the dunes of sand that came and went.


But now for no longer!


Using the Tinker Tanker, it was time to uncover those secrets that have been buried for untold ages past. All about to get covered in grimy Goblin Hands.


At least if they weren’t haunted. It was some sort in intelligent haunting, Daggerson would be the first to actually try to talk with them. If something had smarts, it could be bargained with. That was part of the Daggerisms. When he gets things settled with a port town, he really should hire someone to write down these Daggerisms.


He’ll sell the book in the port town. So many ideas.


Sure, its all just pie in the sky thoughts right now. But soon enough. And hopefully, this’ll be the place. But also, hopefully this Mausoleum won't be something that makes them have to take off for greener pastures..


He’s waited a long while, but if things go south, he’ll pack up his boys and leave.



Actions:


  1. UsingFire 3, Water 3, Architects, Engineering experts, The surrounding Sand and appropriate other materials, build at least 1, but possibly up to 3 Sand Towers for use to spot ships coming from the waters and Scorpions before they ambush any goblins.
  2. Use the Tinker Tanker to remove the dunes around the Mausoleum for the ability to gain entrance.If intelligent Undead/Spirits are discovered, get Daggerson for discussion and possible deals. If undead is violent, retreat(Using necessary violence) until additional crushing forces can assist.



Crew: 5 Tinker Thinkers

8 Trash Vanguard (Trolls)

10 Goblin Hobbes

40 Wrenchmaces

39 Crays


Captain Dagget Daggerson
 


Another dream that will never come true
Just to compliment your sorrow
Another life that I've taken from you
A gift to add onto your pain and suffering ​

Thirty five pirates of various races, hundreds of leagues away from their homes, sat in the dark hold of a cursed ship. It stank of rotting fish and whale blubber. Its walls were slimy and singed the skin to the touch. Packed like sardines, the prisoners silently resigned their fates in the belly of the beast. Some could be heard muttering to themselves... others chuckling at something amusing that was only entertaining to themselves. Some shed silent tears while others muttered unanswered prayers to whatever being was willing to save them from this damnation. Their minds wandered as hours had passed since they had been thrown into the hold of the ship.

Another truth you can never believe
Has crippled you, completely
All the cries you're beginning to hear
Trapped in your mind, and the sound is deafening ​

Suddenly, a hole opened from above and light blindingly shined down upon the prisoners. A figure then towered above them followed by curious fish like heads peering into the opening, providing some shadow and respite from the blinding sun. A familiar female voice called out to them "Hail, lads. I, Captain Harrison, have come to an agreement with the First Captain John du Doe and our generous host who is willing to spare us from walking the plank, the Ship God 'Mayflower'. They even welcome us with open arms to their crew and offer to share their wealth with us, all of which I agreed to." A cheer erupted from the scores of prisoners until the Captain interrupted "However, there's a few problems. One, the ship is only so big and it's already almost at full capacity. Plus, the crew ran out of food, so they can't keep every single one of us alive. That said, the First Captain and I came to an agreement that we'll let the strongest, swiftest, and smartest among you to survive while the losers are to be sacrificed for the greater good of the Mayflower and its crew. How this will be decided? It's all up to you, but just know that you must impress our host with your performance and display loyalty to the Mayflower and the crew. Originally, we agreed that half of you will be left to live, but I've thought about it more, and I don't want to sail with useless crew and losers. So, you will have to put on a display that satisfies the Mayflower and the great Ship God will decide when to show you it's grace and mercy. Anyways, here's the gold that the First Captain promised us. Now chop, chop, lads. We don't have all day. "



Let me enlighten you
This is the way I pray​

The Captain kicked a heavy chest down into the hold, letting golden coins, red pearls, heavy golden artifacts, jewelry, and... sugar scatter and fly across the hold. The prisoners flinched as they were showered with heavy gold. However, for a few seconds they sat motionless, stunned at the sudden news and information. Until, a plank in the hold stealthily flung a small golden statue into a prisoner who crumpled from the pain and having the breath knocked out of him. Another prisoner quickly grabbed a heavy golden chalice that rolled next to him and caved another's face in. Blood sprayed all over the hold and coated the red pearls that were scattered on the floor. The Kuo Toa spectators began to cheer at their evening entertainment. They were watching their meals tenderize themselves after all and it wasn't every day that they weren't the ones being punished. The Priests began singing and uttering prayers over the screams coming from the hold in the name of the Ship God as a display of violence, desperation, greed, wealth, devotion and faith began erupting within the stomach of the God Ship, all in its name and glory. With a smile, the Captain walked away from the carnage and towards the Captain's Quarters where a veneer of good old Attolian civility was still on display.

---

Within the Captain's Quarters, a wounded First Captain John du Doe sat with a cup of 'tea' in one hand as the other was an amorphous blob that was slowly re-incorporating. He sipped the warm beverage that one of the bookcases had prepared for the men as a congratulatory gesture to the proud men of the Attolian Navy for their victory. Was it good tea? The Mimics didn't know, but the decorum had to be maintained. The mimics however held a cordial conversation in their heads. "Say First Captain, why did that Mrs. Harrison invite you to her bedchambers?" "The intent of human females still elude me, Lord Ken Kensington. I do not know. Perhaps, she had numerous bookcases of her own?" "Ahh, human behavior is rather confusing. Whenever I seem to be getting the hang of it, something happens that simply catches me off guard!"

"Patience, my Lords, we're gaining more experience and getting better every time. Last time was almost perfect! Until the bookcase of Biology and Medicine informed us when we returned that biologically, Humans do NOT consume through their rear and that the rear is for bodily waste removal purposes only except for certain medical procedures which require it... it is called an enema, and it is only for liquids in emergency situations. Though, it is an honest mistake that I am sure most non-humanoids would make as well. Regardless, I have gathered you all here today to spend some time studying and learning how to be more diplomatic and learning common customs among the humanoids so that we will not make these mistakes again. Plus, with the new crew members who will be joining us soon, we will have prime examples to imitate along with the knowledge and expertise that the new Mrs. Harrison provides us on how humanoid pirates and rogues behave. Now, I would first like to invite the bookcase of Medicine and Biology to speak on humanoid bodily functions so that we may learn their capabilities first and then we'll go down the list to the other experts such as the bookcase of Diplomacy and Translations who can teach us how to behave and speak during interactions with humanoids."

Soon the mimics found themselves holding an oddly enlightening, telepathic, Socratic seminar, intellectually discussing what it means to be a human and other human like beings. The scene was in stark, and disturbing contrast to what was occurring in the hold below the Captain's Quarters.

---

Focus eventually turned to a letter received from another venture. One from a supposed agent of House Varna. This sent chills down the spines of the mimics as it seemed that their disguises had been already compromised. Steps would have to be taken to acquire new ones to continue their masquerade. Yet, the actual content of the message was even more befuddling and disconcerting to the mimics. "What does this mean? How can a human be glossy and sturdy like a bookcase? WHY ARE FEMALE HUMANS SO VAGUE AND CONFUSING?" The mimics telepathically spoke to each other. It was then that the mimic that was once the human Captain Letha "Four Fingers" Harrison loudly yelled telepathically "SHE'S TRYING TO FLIRT WITH YOU AND EXPRESS POTENTIAL MATING INTEREST." Silence filled the heads of the mimics. Until another uproar replied "WELL WHY DOESN'T SHE JUST SAY SO?!" The mimics continued their enlightening internal discussions, but ultimately came to the conclusion that no reply for now was the best reply since they were not currently prepared to speak in the "code" that female humans seemed to discuss in.

---

Orders:

1. A ritual of blood, wealth, depravity, gluttony and devotion is held in the name of the Ship God via a deadly battle royale among the 35 pirate prisoners in the belly of the Ship. The battle royale will only stop when the Ship God is pleased with the survivors who will be graced and welcomed by the Ship God as the chosen faithful while the losers are sacrificed for the good of the Ship God and crew by being turned into Blood Mana/Power and food. The Kuo Toa are to bare witness to this most holy of acts and offer their prayers and thanks to the Ship God for the bounty that the Ship God has given them while being guided by the Arcana and Theology bookcase to ensure that this ritual properly takes place. The battle royale/ritual is to then be followed by a feast for the ship and crew featuring the sacrifices and copious amounts of sugar to satisfy the Ship God's cravings.

Ship God "Mayflower" (Water 3/Blood 3)
35 Pirate Prisoners
2 Wealth
2 Units of Red Pearls
2 Units of Sugar
48 Kuo Toa Miscreants
20 Kuo Toa Priests (Water 1/Astral 1)
7 Corpulents (Water 3/Astral 3)
1 Bookcase (Expert)
4. History, Arcana, Theology

2. The Mimics begin a telepathic Socratic seminar on how to better understand, look, and act like discreet humanoids with lessons given by relevant experts such as Biology, Espionage, Diplomacy, Castellan, and Law.

First Captain John du Doe
Captain Letha "Four Fingers" Harrison (Pirate Lore)
10 Totally Normal Humans
9 Bookcases (Expert)

1. Astronomy, Navigation and Cartography
2. Gunnery, Engineering, Metallurgy
3. Medicine, Herbalism, Biology
5. Stealth, Espionage, Counter-intelligence
6. Carpentry, Shipwright, Architect
7. Translator, Diplomacy, Castellan
8. Crafting, Artificer, Law
9. Agriculture, Mining, Geology
10. Monster Lore, Survival, Commerce

DNA/Blood/Flesh from consumed/Swallowed Pirates

Decisions:

Purchased 2 Units of Spider Silk for 6 Wealth from Ayan Bakur Walled Community
Attempt Parley with the pirate ships off the coast of Oyster Isle
Free Movement towards Port Bax
 
Last edited:

  • 0b2e031057cf873400dc3bd781ad1be2.jpg

ENTER CREATION
Sandbar Crocodile
[Audio Track]​
Sand, dunes... Nothing flammable, at least naturally. The waves picked up, the wind whispered in an illusory way, and the sun reigned from above; a wonderful day blessed with many natural treasures. Every day felt different and unique, unlike the many years before. Zerah's eyes tingled with energetic sensation. The weather called and sang, Enter Creation. Rest, calm. A madwoman left alone, for now. Her atrocities will be dealt with at another time when more than a glimmer could be mustered. And at command, the thought of Ravnica faded from Zerah's mind and the island gave him its bliss. But, it would not be enough. Restless could be said, and many say it. Wisdom of the crowd? No, ignorance of the masses. Not rage, not despair, not ambition fuels the strongest of flames; they rely on something else. Power and perfection placed on the top shelf so that it may crush everything underneath. No, a strong flame burns alone, in isolation. Burning on inner peace, clarity of mind, and love. The love of friends, the love of family, the love of the world. Not love from others, love for others. For they always say that love is a fire. Just not the one to burn your house down. Be careful what you wish for... But, the Ashen Flame whispered without a word. It flowed through Zerah's veins, letting his blood spark like a forest fire, like a fire elemental. Yes, it burned bright once more. Zerah needed to be stretched did he not? Or did the Flame need the stretch? Debatably a redundant set of questions, but it was asked anyway.

Voices, scoffs, emotions; they felt different now. The Ashen Flame surged through the body; filling the lungs with ancient vigor, the heart with ferocity, the mind with restraint. Zerah looked down at his hands. How long had it been since the last time? Forget it. It mattered not. More...more... Zerah could feel his troubles fade, his emotions calm until a mirror of still water, and the flame took hold. As his guildmates murmured and meandered through the sands by the shore, the speech of the demons reverberated in the mirror. A purr echoed throughout Zerah's mind. A purr of crackling flame. Demons... playing their games, their tricks. But, the Ashen flame didn't care. They were born in shadow, but the Flame shall cast out the shadow, leaving ash. Sevastian materialized beside Zerah with a stoic expression. The glimmer of awe just under the rose tint of his irises. Zerah looked at him, and they stared for what seemed like hours. Then, the silence broke and Sevastian's voice glided across the mirror, across the internals of the mind.

"So, this is the flame in its purest state."

Zerah scratched his chin, "Hmm, no. The flame is many things, but pure, in what many think of the word, is inaccurate. What is, simply is. An ebb and flow, up and down."

"The Flame, up? You, down?"

"No... Whatever I am, is not that simple. I... It is complicated. The priests of the mainland did their diligence to figure me out. Many of them seem to believe that I came to be in this world unnaturally. As to say, I was not of creation until I was. And when that happened, the flame flourished within me. It would not be the last time something so defiant would occur."

"I understand. None are as simple as they seem. But, who came to be like you, as they believed?"

Zerah pointed up to the ship with his mind's eye, on the railing. Sidd, a nescient. Youthful and carefree. Sevastian looked at Sidd before returning to Zerah.

"My parents died many decades ago. Sidd is only sixteen. Yet, he is my brother, can't you tell?" Sidd's resemblance was uncanny, all things considered.

Sevastian raised his brow, "Many times. He truly is a gift. Treat him well as you have, and you will have many blessings."

Zerah laughed, "Oh, it will be your show soon enough."

Sevastian crossed his arms, "I am a patient wolf."

"I thought as much. Now, here's my proposal for those demons." The light faded, and the water disappeared as a flicker in the wind. Static, television static began to consume everything as a black wave shoo'ed the light away. In its wake, only Zerah remained in a glimmer of light. The mentalscape changed. Up and down, indistinguishable. Left and right the same. Time stood still, and while Sevastian knew this to be mental projections. The verisimilitude felt overwhelming. In some way, a tale of what is to come if Zerah survives long enough. A big if... But, the darkness, the ash, of the Ashen Flame revealed itself. In the darkness, Sevastian could see movements, see without light. What trickery was this? But Zerah outstretched his hand and in a handshake, Zerah spoke again... "Enter creation." His voice felt off, but the noise of the mentalscape made it impossible to tell how.

The darkness drew the curtain and an island lay before Sevastian and Zerah both with representations of the demons by the derelict merchant ship. The imps and mephits. Piles of wood lay near the demons. One of the inner planks glowed in the light; the hue of the plank harbored the darkness. Zerah stepped closer to Sevastian. "Call this an upgrade from the usual parlor trick. The demon picks up the pile of planks." The illusory demon proceeds to pick up the pile of planks, causing a radiance to engulf him and others nearby, "The light shall weaken them, cast out their shadow, and..." Clasps of darkness reach out of the plank, choking the demon around the neck. Mists of darkness enter the demon, "The shadow, the ASH shall take its place. Simple idea. Demons... full of malice and hatred. While I rather kill these jokers, the flame whispers to convert them, to dominate them to our cause. And... while I firmly believe in our need for recruits, I was hoping for something a little more automatic..."

"But Ravnica got in the way..." Sevastian murmured.

"Yeah... But, we'll hopefully help her move on soon enough. Then, we'll gather all those old swords, form them into something new..." Zerah cleared his throat, even here... "But, we'll ignite that troll when it roars. How's the plan?"

"Unconventional, unexpected... will attract attention, much of it. Are you sure this will bode well?"

"Muurdaan doesn't have as many eyes and ears here. And the Flame seems to have waited for a great deal. These... whatever they are will probably kill a decent number of them if they're not converted. If a conversion is truly possible..."

Sevastian placed his forehead in his palms, "My, my... Zerah, I do hope you know what you're doing."

"A part of me does. As we talked about before, next time is your idea."

"On that condition..."

[Previously, before Zerah stepped to shore.]

A yawn echoed in the guildmaster's quarters. A door eecked open. One white eye and one black eye scanned the room. An arm limped up from the hammock, then a chest half-covered in a tunic. One sleeve draped over the waist, not the right arm. A judgemental whistle kept the rhythm of the Genie's oscillations. Slowly, a messy-haired Sidd slipped out of the hammock, almost falling face-first into the hull. A strong shoulder caught Sidd's chin, wrestling him into their grasp. A sigh eased out of him and Sidd clamored to his feet, stumbling consistently. As Zerah began to speak, Sidd spread a puke over the hull. Coughing constantly. A globe of holy light highlighted the hand pressing the globe to Sidd's exposed chest. Soon, nausea stopped and Sidd's face regained color.

Sidd wiped his face, "I'm sorry about that... uh... Guildmaster."

"Sidd... it's okay to call me by name." Zerah looked deeply into Sidd's face; his judgemental mood wiped into pure worry and terror.

"Oh right, myyyy bad. I'm good, just some seasickness. You look like you saw a horror play." How accurate, but that also would be written off as Tuesday in Zerah's book. The shock is there, sure. But, Zerah doesn't have night terrors over any of it unlike...

"Did you sleep alright? Did you dream well?"

"Not like you have anything for bad dreams." (Huh, I swore I heard that from somewhere.)

"Sidd, please be serious."

"When you stop treating me like a child. I'm a tough guy, come onnnn."

"Sidd, you're fighting skill is... trash. God, you're so bad."

Sidd pushed Zerah away. Zerah locked his arms around Sidd's head, rubbing his knuckles into Sidd's scalp, "Ahhh, stoppp. I get it. I get it. What you want me to do?"

Zerah relaxed, patting Sidd on the back, "Drink your ale and guard the ship. DO NOT GET OFF."

Sidd held his hands up, "Fine, fine, but she was hot though."

Zerah sighed, "Yeah, she was. But, you could have been a demon. Wait, SHE could have been a demon. And, you say that about every girl you see."

Sidd rolled his eyes. A few moments passed before Sidd punched Zerah in the ribs, "Thanks for nothing..." Wink. "You useless gorilla." Sidd held up one of his books with a drawing, "See, a gorilla!" With a deep, painful, and masochist hug, Zerah stood up and left for the door, "HEY, I love ya!"

"Love you too, I'll be back in a few... Clean up your mess."

"Ya, ya, I'll get to it." And with a clink, the door closed. Demons here we come.

Orders:

  1. (Divine Sense, Detect magic, etc to detect traps and hidden demons) Attempt to assimilate the demons by rigging piles of planks into "bombs" where the light of the Ashen Flame would weaken the demon and the darkness/ ash of the Flame would take the place of the demonic corruption. The effects of these instruments would probably kill a good bit of them due to the nature of how it operates. All else fails... The plowshares will man the cannons while Pathfinders will brace for combat if the experiment fails.
  2. Investigate the giant scorpions further and attempt to tame them using nature magic, biology specialty, herbalism specialty, Monster Lore specialty, and whatever else would make sense. (After dealing with the demons.
 


Oyster Isle, The Vaal Tower

The Ship....

The Caridad
Class: Merchantman
A group of common mid-sized trading vessels with a good defensive array of cannons. Considered prey by most combat vessels, the Merchantmen can often put a dent in their assailants nonetheless, though they are unlikely to actually out-maneuver or escape any but the slowest opponents. A workhouse trader and explorer, they are seen in the hands of various powers, running various peaceful endeavors.
Type: Large Merchantman
(Half Armed)

...and her Crew

Father Damian (10) (Captain)
Astral (4) Priest
Skills: Oratory
Medicine
Alabaster Maids (5)
3 astral magic/3 water magic -- Expert unit with mage abilities. Have 2 specialties chosen on joining the Venture.
Masako Goto (Biology/ Herbalist)
Josephine Dutton (Espionage/Architecture)
Marianne Cope (Theology/ Castellan)
Louise Conrardy (Theology/Translator)
Jane Dinner (Medicine/Biology)
Magical Healing, Small chance to heal afflictions. Spreaders of light and succor, the Alabaster Maids are Holy Nuns who Follow Father Damian and constantly tend to the wounds of the diseased and afflicted. If cornered, they will use maces to defend themselves where magic fails. Especially dangerous to undead and Demons (but not Devils or Qlippoth)
Redeemer (3)
These holy goliaths are mysterious celestials that followed Father Damian to the Godless Isles. Very Tall with a slender grace even in Ivory heavy platemail, they dance with sword and shield with the power of true super-elite units. They never speak, but occasionally make the sound of doves or ravens, depending on their mood and posture. Absolutely Deadly Tanks in Battle. Magical Weapons and Armor Descriptor, Holy Descriptor, Radiance (10 feet). Tireless Descriptor. Gain progressive bonuses in combat. In melee, Heavenly Shield has 50% chance of absorbing 3d6s in melee. Shield helps against ranged attacks at GM discretion
Gooey Ones (30)
These are "full bodied" lepers, whose skin and flesh is dripping off their bones. While normally gentle and seeking peace, these units can nonetheless defend themselves and serve effectively on a ship, as well as labor for the greater good of the colony. Have "Diseased" Descriptor. Fear (5)
Accursed (11)
These people have suffered so much with their disease they are little more than mummified heaps of scabs and welts, their bodies transcendent of their disease and somehow strengthened by it through faith and perseverance. So devout, they can lend themselves as mana batteries to friendly priests and casters, though have no spells of their own. Their decomposed bodies bear the equivalent of Medium armor, and have (un)holy strength equivalent to medium weapons. While relatively weak for an Elite unit, lesser units will find Accursed hard to deal with. Have "Diseased" Descriptor, Have "Twist Fate" descriptor, (un)holy strength descriptor, Mana Slave Descriptor.
The Maimed (60)
These are unfortunate people missing arms, legs, eyes, you name it. Extremely weak and frail, they fill the bottom tier of the venture serving as pathetic objects of sympathy or simply poor seamen and cannonfodder. Have "Diseased" Descriptor. Have "Affliction" Descriptor.

Decision Point(s)

1.

A) Take the best medicines and make prophylactic tinctures to make the sick aboard the Caridad less transmissible, and safer to deal with other folk, (removes some negative morale with outsiders)
OR
B) Take the best medicines and make balms and ointments that would sooth the pain and progression of the sick folks ailments. (increases health and morale inside the venture)

2.

A) Loot the observatory of archeological treasures (+4 wealth)
OR
B) leave the "Vaaluables" in peace.




Father Damian was not an educated man, and while he could marvel at the ornaments and tomes within the observatory, it's true wonder was lost on him. Only able to appreciate the treasures with his eyes and hands, and little more, it still seemed that there was a higher power at work, one that wanted him to be here. At least for now.

With warnings of Grievers and Crocodilians, Sister Josephine set about masking their presence with skills that she had deemed best left forgotten and on which Father Damian had never pried about. But as the alabaster abbess went about her work, there was a visible tremor from her from time to time, as a painful past tried to dredge itself from the depths.

"Give her strength..." Damian quietly whispered, as he went back to working the telescope.

With a string of boats circling the island, with motives unclear bar one, Damian was uneasy. Fortunately a single vessel, the Perseverance, and it's crew, the Cult of Celestial Siblings, had revealed its motives and the makings of the other vessels. There was even an offer of aid in the future and for their current predicament. Seemingly scholars and explorers, the Cults heads Telren and Tyarra, sought the mysteries of the Tower and Damian was happy to oblige. After all, with offers of great charity and understanding, how could he refuse.

Forming a mind link with his Astral magics, between himself and Tyarra, Damian circled the device, listening for input as his eyes acting as hers.

While he had not been afforded the greatest of intellect or practical skill, Father Damian could still do his part. Adjusting the telescope with his hands, the clergyman captain hovered his eye over the lens as he set the device to it's second setting. With only two options available to them at present, Louise circled the room with the logbook, pacing between the telescope and the 'Vaaluables' as she tried to unravel the workings of the observatory. Damian had the greatest of confidence in her, and Josephine as they went about their task, the few Accursed and plentiful Gooey Ones helping them in their endeavours.

Meanwhile, the proud Priest eyed the cavernous cave systems over yonder through the eyepiece. Certainly the scene before him seemed unsettling, with the defunct detritus of a lighthouse and the carvings of a lifeless language, but Damian had with him three Redeemers, guides to the afterlife made manifest on Molochai...

Another sign perhaps... pondered the Priest, as he stared at the low flooded beach, focusing his Astral magics to see and explore further...

Outside Sisters Masako and Jane, knowing their duty was to the afflicted first, but unwilling to have others become victims because of their choices, the helpful Accursed a humbling testament to the degenerating disease, did their best to take only what was necessary from the best succulents and medicinal flora, snipping away with surgical scissors at the dominant buds and select stems of the strongest plants in an attempt to encourage new growth. Marianne made sure the wandering Maimed did not get in the way of the precise and precious procedure of her fellow nuns, encouraging them to help clear out and harvest what could not be reused or saved with the Nuns rejuvenating water magic or the bright lights of their Astral.


Orders:

3 Alabaster Nuns (Masako/Jane/Marianne) will try and keep the medicinal succulents alive and well with Water/ Astral magic (Biology/ Herbalist speciality used) with the help of 7 Accursed and 60 Maimed (Herbalist/Castellan/ Biology specialty used if applicable)

Father Damian will man the telescope, using it on it's second setting to familiarise himself with the device. 1 Alabaster Nun (Louise) will help in the endeavour using the logbook and cipher as a guide to try to and learn the workings of the telescope with the Cult of Celestial Siblings Martydi Martydi also affording aid. 30 Gooey ones and 4 Accursed will perform any necessary grunt work (Translator speciality used if applicable)

Sister Josephine will try to hide both parties efforts from detection (Espionage Speciality used) and 3 Redeemers will remain vigilant

[/font]
 
Last edited:
​


Iorund seemed so distant now.

"That's mad Einar. Preparing defenses is one thing, the matter of the barrow hills was bound to come to a head at some point if we are to settle this cursed land, but once that spark is lit there's just no telling where that foul machinery walks next." Thane Katla counseled.

"We've only strengthened our enemy and spent our precious time running your fool's errands while the competition is certain to have raced ahead of us to greener pastures." Thane Yngvar said. "Taking the first generation of these croclets hostage for as briefly as we had them made their little ones as dreadfully cunning as you'd originally hoped they'd be, aye, yet those few that returned to the Aymarans know nothing of us but our tricks and hexes. And now you intend for us to rouse another threat from it's slumber?"

"Enough." Einar bid through gritted teeth. "A shield wall can be no stronger than it's weakest arm. Yngvar leads the cavalry unit, and Katla will follow shortly behind." He laid his hands on the map of Oyster Isle spread across the war room table, "I've had just about enough of this damnable waiting, if they're so eager to pick a fight, we'll come to deliver them screaming to their Gods. The ancestors of these Aymaran argr may have sundered the great stone halls of Mpinkulu long since past, but they'll soon learn the works of the sons and daughters of Brodir do not give so easily underfoot."

He peered outside at Hrónn's camp. They had joined him at his invitation, proud raiders all, but languished as their hersir led their warriors to no glories, a fate Einar feared he too would bring down upon his people. The only way out of this was through now, worlds made anew required sacrifices of ashes and bloodshed. Even so he wondered, mediating, could there even be honor had in winning this war? Was all they done in the untamed archipelago for naught?

TURN THREE Actions​

1) Bylgja (a stormlord) storm genasi creates fleeing Aymaran croclet illusions after a keg of gunpowder primed to explode is rolled inside of the entrance of the largest barrow in an attempt to unleash the wrath of the unseen automatons upon their village in the swamp by leading the machines straight to them. She teleports back to board the camouflaged Hringhorni as it makes ready to row along the coast to the southwestern swamp, shrouding the ship in mist once more and providing enhanced senses for a vanguard of 21 Jestir, 3 Skald-kappi, and Jarl Einar (and his cat familiar Jörmungandr) to set ashore, the force eliminating sentries and disabling traps in the longship's path, and infiltrating the village to perform sabotage and cause last minute infighting between the matured croclets and the Aymaran adults while their attention is ideally on the lured terrors of the hills. When idle onboard the ship Jarl Einar carves frost runes into the weapons and missiles of the crew for the upcoming battle.

2) Thane Katla, Thane Yngvar (mounted behind Sir Hjalti), 41 Freemen, 15 Seawolves, 5 Beinagrind-fellers, 7 Housecarls, 6 Ritter-knights (among them Sir Hjalti), 5 Berserkers (mounted behind the knights), 1 Leadfang (Sigbjorn) follow the shore party in the longship. When detected, the knights lead the charge while the ship opens fire. The rest of the martial forces get ashore when they can.

TRADITIONS of espionage, counter intelligence, and stealth used.
 
Last edited:
Kent Kent :

The Conversion:

"SUBMIT. THY. WILL." The Arcana scholar gritted brutally as the Celestial mages bombarded little arrafelle with colored orbs of every sphere of magic...

Arafelle lay chained, her little skeleton naked and bleached white from all the intense forces that worked on her -- blood magic summoned demons and minor horrors to pull at her soul, Bone magic to rewrite her, delete her personality and remake her again for the prince. Astral magic warped fate and shocked her ceaselessly with lightning. The elements combined to form special tortures... Mud of earth and water drowned her, Fire and Air fanned flames that blackened her bones only for earth and wind to sandblast her away at her, layer by layer.

Arrafelle screamed, Arrafelle cried. She did not want to become some necromancer pawn for this Prince... this "Charlie-Town"... but what could she do? In her weakness her tiny black heart manifested in her ribcage, beating frantically.

"SHE'S WEAKENING... BREAK THE HEART." The Arcana Scholar hissed... and the celestials all reached their hands towards it, singing it, buffeting it, freezing it and frying it.

Arafelle sobbed, Her little ponytail, like a knights plume, blew away in the magical onslaught and she shuddered violently, seizing, vibrating -- turned repeatedly with holy rituals, she knew greater terrors now in death than she ever knew in life. Her hair tie, a black metal ring, fell at her feet, burning white hot on contact with the mage-battered floor.

"BRING FORTH THE BONE MANA. BURN IT ALL UPON HER"

Arrafelle looked up at what would be the final onslaught. and she grabbed the little ring that burned off the floor with the tiniest bit of slack her shackles allowed...

She pulled the little scrap of metal to her heart and then THREW her hands toward the purple orb of bone mana that represented her doom and spoke out with a stuttering scream:

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT A RING OF METAL AND TWO RAW SPHERES OF BONE MANA CAN CAST!!??!"

There was a pregnant pause before a deep voice answered from everywhere and nowhere in particular...

"THE RITES OF RETURNING, MISS."

Eddiel formed from the ring as she cast it behind her tormentors -- Whole and wreathed in green fire and pitted black plate mail -- and wasted no time.

The Arcana Scholar was picked up over Eddiels head and thrown into the storm of magic endlessly smashing against arrafelle from the celestials and the advisor to the prince was frozen, shattered, melted and dispersed in a puff of steam. In the same motion Eddiel ran one of the mages through with his wight-blade, instantly aging him a thousand years, and from what his peers could tell the process, though quick, must have been indescribably painful.

The Survival Scholar was already gone, The rest of the celestials putting up wards of turning to keep Eddiel from reaching them, as they fell back and out of the dungeons.

"And WHAT are the enemies of Arafelle, Eddiel?!"

"THEY ARE NOT IN CONTROL, MISS." He cleaved her chains away from the wall and scooped her under his burning plated shoulder. He kicked the one wall off bars free of her holding cell in a single relocation of his weight and fury. He wrapped the little cinderqueen in his tattered blue cloak he'd been summoned with, and they quickly vanished through a secret passage into the deepest dungeons.

"What now my queen?" their voices trailed off in a dark abyss -- a tremendous ossuary that contained the remains of all of Arrafelles subjects -- the walls, the floors, even the steps made out of eager, hateful skulls...

"We shave the prince's locks to make my pigtails, Eddiel... And I should think his withered eyelids shall make lovely barrettes."

"Drag him I shall to a fiery dunghill... which shall be his grave... and there I shall cut off his most ungracious head."

Arrafelle suppressed a yawn and a whimper in the thickening gloom and faded into a pantomime of slumber in her champions arms. Yawning, she piped up one last time...

"What comes after Thrice, Eddiel?"

"Nothing, Miss. Nothing comes after Thrice, I think..." Then together they faded into the blackness that engulfed them...

___________________________________________




The Prince Tien Long, in his new throne-room, practically BATHED in the wealth that had been looted from the halls and vaults of his new castle now placed at his feet... as he lazily sipped a frozen refreshment. Smiling at the return of his Celestial Mages -- He did not expect them to be done with his new toy so quickly...
(+13 wealth from looting arafelle's palace, three magic item rolls TBD.)

Their Panicked expressions changed his. A cold ring of sweat springing forth around his neck that made his drinking-glass akin to boiling tea in comparison...

The Scholars tripped over themselves, screaming for TienLong's personal bodyguards. The mages scattered to rally all forces to the castle....

...All Scholars but one, In actuality his brother's Royal Assassin, who emerged from the shadows to slay the prince in the few moments that he'd have alone with his target. The Prince almost smiled, at least this was a problem that would face him head-on...

(Arcana Scholar dead, 1 Celestial Mage Dead, One Advisor lost (Assassin!) DUEL REQUIRED!)

___________________________

THE DEVELOPMENT:

The development of Lavaslate was derailed by the Assassination of Prince Tien Long by the machinations of his own Royal Family. His forces flee to the ship and will idle between here and port Bax until the expected reinforcements from the east arrive. (Turn 4-5)
 
Last edited:
thumb-1920-1028738.jpg
PAZAI CLAN
Turn 3
​

Julian stood on the deck of the Grand Venture as it sails on towards the curious isle cluster of Brekhnil Lohairho. His elvish made curious suggestions of what this place could be called that but in either case, he was eager to see what was here. He might very well have found something worthwhile to claim for the Pazai if their weren't occupants. Then again, if there were he could see how to play the situation.

"You're scheming," Galza teases as she walks up behind her husband and wraps strong arms around him. Julian was an athletic figure but Galza was easily the more physically imposing of the pair. She was built for combat and carried herself with the grace of a experienced fighter. He was fond of her for that, able to fight himself but honestly preferring others to do that for him while he tapped into his more mystic skills to influence a battle.

"You do know me well, Galza. But then again what wife would you be if you didn't?" Julian teases as he rest his arms atop Galza's. "What do you think we'll find at this place?"

"Probably elves. Or dead ones. This place seems like something happened from what your research at Port Bax said," Galza mused as she stays close to her husband, hugging him to herself coyly as if to tease him about her superior size. Julian just chuckles as he lets her have her fun while looking on at the tower that grew more into view. "You think Black will honor his word?"

"He better, or his going to find out what a huge mistake it is to betray the Pazai on a deal," Julian almost growls at that thought and bears his teeth, for a moment showing a hint of pronounced canines before he'd assumed a more calm expression again. "Either way, we'll find something here, even if I have to tear the secrets from the dead."

With that thought, the ship sails on towards the tower and its isles. The Pazai had come for plunder and who knows what else. The question was whether or not the isles were prepared for a group like the Pazai, for they had come to play.
​
Actions
Free: Move Grand Venture to Brekhnil Lohairho
1. Scout Brekhnil Lohairho
2. Attempt Entry to the Tower/Explore it​
 
2570360-1280x960-[DesktopNexus.com].jpg
WELCOME TO THE CIRCUS​

Hloloc Village Outskirts - Thruneswatch

"Go with type four performances, they lack illusions for the most part so they will probably be the best choice for these tribal folk, I'm not sure that they would like us not properly performing our stunts and just relying on false images," Terren strode through the in-construction circus grounds speaking to his bouncers and dodging the odd piece of material that was launched at him. "The circus hasn't seen to have taken Water from me yet either so I will be using that in the show as both a safety net and to add to some of the acts."

"Should we have the usual acrobatics or do you want us to try out some of the more, experimental, performances?" Corven swerved around the fallen body of a winded Carnie without looking, used to it after being in the circus for so long.

"A few of the safer ones, don't want to risk any injuries when we don't have access to any kind of major healing magic," Terren had only paused for a moment at the question, ignoring the ladder that fell at his feet, and began walking once more. "And do your best to have everything ready by the end of the day, I don't want to lose the business of those other crews that are on the island."

"Aye Cap'n we'll get on it and spread the word to the rest of the lads."

"Good, now get to work!"

==========================
​
"Welcome one and all to The Circus! Tonight, you will be wowed by our stunning acrobats, amazed by our juggling tightrope walkers, and astounded by the very magic which I myself wield! We thank you for coming, and we now begin our show!" As he finished Terren launched off arcs of exploding magic and raised himself upon a platform of water, highlighting the Carnies that began to dance and flip along the ground and the Bouncers that began to swing from the trapeze lines. An excited grin covered his face and he let his control go, allowing the circus itself to take command of the show.


Free Action
Attach Golden Mermaid Figurehead to ship

Actions
1.Perform for Villagers and any other Ventures who wish to view

2. Attempt to capture snake with Terren, 60 Carnies, 6 Outrageous Hats, and 2 Bouncers

Crew:
120 Carnies
12 Outrageous Hats
4 Bouncers
3 Freakshow
Terren Laevon (Mystic)
Astral 3
Water 3
 
Last edited:
wherever we halt no one know ​

it seemed the deadmenwalking would not go so easily the iron shells expedition could ill afford the loss of the forge heart without it all operation would cease and they lacked the facilities here to enact the ritual that would enable the creation of another such device. Crembor and Tegbor took there leave of the situation ordering the rest of the iron shells to withdraw for now, there was grumbling amogst the younger who did not understand that resources did not flow so easily to begin with those of clans knew this well and spent the time to teach them the virtues of a patient mind.

”Cembor I think it best if we scour the reefs around the island proper for any useful ores till we can find proper mining operation, it will help teach the younger’s of there patient and give them time to be instructed by my sea treders.” Tegbor suggested as the pair moved away from the washed up vessel.

Cembor nodded sagely. “Yes it would do some good for my clan to take a small break ensure the forge runs proper once meltbor returns with the charcoal.. I sense a gift of steel for us by the end of this.” Cembor stated gleefully only to tune back as see Tegbor had disappeared without a trace as he was known to do..

the elder looked out to the trees across the waves. Close enough that the copperback flashing signals flashing back a explanation of events transpiring. Knife ears? it seemed they where not so alone and magic too apparently concerned for the health of the forest.. wood regrew you cut it down allowed fresh growth and move on it was a balancing act the ironshells and learned harshly many years ago.. before Cembor‘s time.. and they where coming to pay a visit… ideas already brewing they where magical no doubt and they could prove useful to clearing out there deadmanwalking issue.. if he could get them on side…
———————————-

meanwhile upon thrunswatch Meltbor and his contingent finished stamping out the last of the fires and collecting the charcoal allowing the knife ears to regrow the forest it was certainly impressive but that wasn’t important what was important was they’d learned there was other intelligent life here.. it must have come form somewhere a port of sorts? Once the messages where relayed he ordered every to pack back up. form where they where now something off was visible in the distance the knife ears had come form Perhaps a spec of civilisation… and prehaps they could barter for some iron to keep them going for the time being it would be what Cembor would do in this situation.

and with that the copperback set sail to another song. that the crew sung cheerful at the idea of new adventure abroad.
”from the salted sandy shores and form the depths of the ocean floors. We seek not where but what, finding it now is our lot, wherever the wind may blow, to where the current may flow. For wherever we do halt no one knows, like the ocean currents flow, luck be with us as we go”
———————
actions:

Action 1: the copperback and its crew dispatch move to gray maidens, only the legionaries along with meltbor are allowed to exit the vessel due to disciple they exhibit.

action 2: the sea Treader‘s and the younger‘s search the shallows around “forge hold“ (crab home) while teaching them patients in finding valuable things.
 
Cosmo Cosmo :

1. Captain Hank Williams will try to create a new tobacco blend using Tavarian Tobacco and Umbrafina Radisicus
2 Units of Tavarian Tobacco Available
Umbrafina Radisicus -- clean, cool, flavor ++, aromatic + Value ++ SCARCE/FINITE

2. Barter with locals
15 Spinning Handgunners will assist [+Boosts Product Sales when not in combat]. Try to sell Goods and Gifts [2 Units Available] for wealth and repairs for The Ladybird, depending on how good a price/what's available, Tavarian Tobacco [or the new blend if its created] can be traded as well.

_______________________


The Blend was a success! Absolutely fabulous product came out of it, and there was still some Umbrafina Radisicus left over to keep in storage. Tobacco value rises from 2 to 5 wealth per unit. (10 total)

All the Goods and Gifts netted an additional 2 wealth after repairs were paid for, with the druids fortifying the Ladybird with Ironwood Scantlings to strengthen it's structural integrity (so that hopefully they would not be stranded and washed ashore again)

The Ladybird was seaworthy again, and the cargo hold was full of treasure!
 
Cult shore party camp, near the Vaal tower
Telren Lumyar once again stood over a map of the Archipelago. While Tyarra and Durlan were busy figuring out the inner workings of the Vaal observatory, it fell to her to plan the next steps of the Cult's expedition. From their own findings and the information provided by Damian, the risk of staying on the Oyster Isle rose substantially. Though the reward was potentially great as well, with a large amount of ruined buildings offering a lot of opportunities to acquire valuables. And would other islands be any safer? At least here, the Cult knew what they would have to deal with.

Turn actions
1. Directed by Ostag Sydr, Cult in the Grey Maidens will construct a housing complex, to provide a place for the faithful to live. 2 wealth is spent on the construction.
2. Tyarra Spelt and Durlan Miamoir help Damian and his lepers with using the Vaal observatory using astral magic. ​
 
Trektek Trektek :

  1. UsingFire 3, Water 3, Architects, Engineering experts, The surrounding Sand and appropriate other materials, build at least 1, but possibly up to 3 Sand Towers for use to spot ships coming from the waters and Scorpions before they ambush any goblins.
  2. Use the Tinker Tanker to remove the dunes around the Mausoleum for the ability to gain entrance.If intelligent Undead/Spirits are discovered, get Daggerson for discussion and possible deals. If undead is violent, retreat(Using necessary violence) until additional crushing forces can assist.


Crew: 5 Tinker Thinkers
8 Trash Vanguard (Trolls)
10 Goblin Hobbes
40 Wrenchmaces
39 Crays

SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH..... CRASH! CHOOKA-CHOOKA-CHOOKA-FOOOOOOOOOOOM! (ssssssssssssssssssssstt! BOOOOOOM!) RRR! RRR! RRR! RRR!

The noise was incredible. All the scorpions of every size fled into the crevasse as the goblins got going knocking over the dunes, Blasting them with water magic until the sand was thoroughly packed and then using the Tinker Tanker and BRUTAL fire magic to turn Towering dunes into platform-level ground made of particulate matter, rocks, and glass.
Wrenchmaces broke any rocks that upset the flat outlook of the construction, quite accidentally mining 2 units of Granite and 3 units of sandstone, that could possibly be used in later construction.

The goblins were as obsessive as they were noisy... taking the edge off of the incredible undertaking by blasting each other into the water with "Surplus Magic" and crude explosives the wrenchmaces always seemed to find time to make in the offtimes. The island increased dramatically in size, and the Crays and the Wrenchmaces got THOROUGHLY worn-out. (Next turn no orders but rest/rehab for regular goblins) However they carried on with their orders -- The towers had to be made, even if "Everybody's hair's got to be burnt off, pass it on. FOOOM! AIIEEEEE! hothothothothothot! Splash!" Kept the goblins running into the surf while the Sandstone towers, surrounded with dangerous glass hazards, were erected on the outward facing approaches to the island... As Daggerson demanded. This of course required paying some money for labor to keep up enthusiasm -- More than half going to the Hobbes who made sure to kick any goblins that asserted they were too tired or injured to continue working. (minus 1 wealth) And work continued unabated until somebody lost an eye and the job could officially be declared begun. (any goblin will tell you It's not yet fun and games until somebody loses an eye!)

And these weren't constructions to sneeze at. Well, the first versions you couldn't breathe on at all or they'd fall over... but with the right expertise the sixth or seventh tries were actually quite solid and mighty. The initial misunderstanding that everyone was to build "Sandcastles" on the beach had lead to wanton violence between goblins who were defending their silt-piles instead of building together -- but thanks to the Hobbes, almost everyone had half an idea what the hell they were doing by the time the project finished.

The Island was bigger from the Tinker Tank converting dunes into landfill and the towers were built... what did that leave? THE MAUSOLEUM! The goblins had resolved not to disturb the building until all other objectives were completed so basically only used one side of it as a place to urinate (because the site might be hallowed ground!) and only played "Ding-Dong-Dash!" every hour, on the hour so not as to be TOO annoying to whatever might be inside.

Well, it turned out all the pissing, pulling on the knocker and firecrackers DID upset whatever was in there, and whatever was in there was a FESTRICH -- Basically twice as big as a Troll and 4x as mean, the mausoleum was a sanctified prison of sorts for the individual entombed here so that it could eternally slumber rather than turn into a Bestial horror intent on terrorizing the island, if not the region. So naturally EVERYONE was surprised when the wards failed and the FESTRICH escaped -- and had to be thoroughly torched and smacked in the face with the tinker tank to keep it from tearing Daggerson and his entire Venture apart. They quickly pushed a dune in front of the mausoleum and "glassed" it to seal the thing back inside, but it was a temporary measure at best. They'd bedeviled the darn thing so much that it would not calm down for a decade, they reckoned, so Daggerson was going to have to come up with some way of dealing with it...

DECISION POINT:
A) Leave the Island -- the Fetrich is unstoppable and it's time to cut our losses.
B) Have the Trolls beat it down before it gets any angrier -- The trolls were too stupid to fear it, so why not let them have a go?
C) Have Daggerson deal with it (Scene)

It seemed like a terrible waste to leave everything behind just because...

*CRASH!!!* "BY THE GOD OF THE WARM PILES IT'S ESCAPING AGAIN!!! DO SOMETHING!!!!"
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 2 (members: 0, guests: 2)
Back
Top