[u][b][h2]Turn 2[/h2][/b][/u] [hider=The Map][IMG]http://i64.tinypic.com/szft4p.png[/IMG] [/hider] [h3][color=00CED1]The Iceborn[/color][/h3] [@Cyclone] [Hider=Turn 2][i]"Let the Gilbins rise from the shadows and fight us, then; they would only give us another chance to prove ourselves to Kjorn."[/i] Well-chosen words indeed. Lydia smirked, bowed shortly and left once their conversation was over. She had much to attend to, as Dagshall had started to grow quite busy over the past few weeks. Ah, shark. Edible just like any other fish. Dag instructed his fishers to hunt them and bring them in to be served for the next feast. Only... The fishermen couldn't find any sharks. Odd, they thought since they had seen plenty of sharks around the shores before. Now, it was as if all predators were gone. Ill omens, said they when they brought the news back to Dag. All men know, when predators leave an area with plenty of game it is only because a larger predator has entered the waters. But then what had slain the fisherman whose hand had washed up ashore? As soon as the second Longboat was finished, it set off north onto the seas. Whoever the captain was and whatever he had named his ship, he came back shortly after with half a broken ship left and most of his crew dead. He was wounded, delirious, raving like a mad-man. [i]"The deep! The deep! They-- it-- the monsters!"[/i] He collapsed onto the shore. The Iceborn quickly took him and the survivors in and treated them, and they noticed bitemark, clawmark, wounds from sword, dagger and spear. It was is they had all been attacked by sharks, but what sharks could possible board a ship?! Clearly there is a new enemy out there! As the captain and his men remained unconcious, the Iceborn could only speculate as to what had attacked them. It seems the second longship also required some repairs before it was to sail any further. Still, some good news came at last. Dag's son Sigdar had returned from the wilds. He had stalked a massive bear for days, and finally managed to fell it with his bow, spear and shortsword. He came with the massive pelt upon his head and down his back, and with it's claws in three necklaces. Other valuables collected from the bear's carcass had been collected in several satchels hanging from his waist or back. Indeed, the young man was covered in bear from head to toe, a sight to behold. He stood up straight, his demeanor proud and bright. He was welcomed into the village as a true man and warrior, and Dag received him at their great hall, the longhouse. That night, they feasted. No shark unfortunately, but a feast nonetheless. It included all the regularities of an Iceborn feast, with the exception of one curiosity. Sigdar approached his father and lowered his voice. [i]"Father. I found something in the wilds."[/i] Congratulations had already been received earlier, so the two conversed normally with each other. [i]"What is it, son? What did you find?"[/i] [i]"I must show you."[/i] The two ventured out into the wilds the next day accompanied by an elder, Lydia the Shieldmaiden and the elder's aide. Sigdar led his companions to the place where he had felled the bear, and there upon a rock was imprinted the mark of Kjorn. Runes were carved on the outer rims of the standing rock, and in the middle was a hole through, with a blue flame faintly flickering. It appeared to be dying, yet Sigdar said he had not noticed the rock until the blue flame came to light the moment he slew the bear. [hider=The Runestone of Kjorn][img]https://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/elderscrolls/images/c/c2/Runestone_concept_art.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20140319211450[/img][/hider] The elder was aghast, Lydia astonished. Sigdar himself stood proudly next to to the Runestone, yet his expression was serious, calm and stern. Dag and the elder exchanged looks. What does this mean? [b]A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other[/b] [b]Population:[/b] 205 men, 205 women, 58 children. [indent][i]- 151 Goblin Thralls[/i][/indent] [b]Livestock:[/b] A herd of goat. [b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population. [b]Food level:[/b] Above Average [b]Resources:[/b] Lumber, Iron, [color=gray]Honey (low quantities, legendary quality)[/color] [b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistant [b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistant [b]Growth:[/b] Base: 5% [i]+1% from food level, +1% from morale = 7%.[/i] [b]Morale:[/b] High [b]Foreign relations:[/b] [indent]- [color=0054a6]Children of Artemon[/color]: [color=yellow]Neutral[/color][/indent][/hider] [h3][color=yellow]The Antari[/color][/h3] [@Murtox] [color=red]No post found. 3 turns until auto-dropout.[/color] [Hider=Turn 1]A few weeks had passed since the raid on Pachacamac. Lizardmen, armed with spear an crossbow, fang and claw, came to steal your supplies and kidnap your people for slavery or worse. While at first leadership was fractured, Amari Asto managed to lead his people to victory by unifying what little fighters he had and armed the rest who could fight. The initial panic turned into fury at the invaders, and the lizardmen were quickly driven off with little casualties on both sides. All in all, two lizardmen died to your four armed peasants, and another three were wounded. One lone lizardman was left behind, too wounded to be carried or to run by himself. He was nursed back to health in a cage, and has since been your prisoner. He hasn't spoken to anyone but Amari Asto, and when he's "spoken" it has been only through hiss and snarl. Still, you have the feeling his mood might swing soon. Perhaps the creature can speak common? Rano Rancor had been able to procure the resources needed for his project of improving the settlement's housing, and everybody's standard of living had since improved. He was congratulated as a great inovator, and has since been working directly under Amari Asto's employ to improve everyday life in the settlement. With the repelling of the lizardman raid, your workers and guardsmen were able to return to their project of mining the mountainside for copper, which has since become your newest resource. [color=gray][Copper added to resources.][/color] The crossbow. Not a design unfamiliar to your people, but intruiging nonetheless. The lizardmen had wielded them together with spear and claw to deadly efficiency, and while examining the weapons taken from your slain enemies, you realize their crossbows are different from what you know. Crude-looking, yet elegant in actuality. Being perfectly fit for a lizardman and not a man, the design would require some alterations or modifications before being an equally strong weapon in your own hands. Perhaps a worthwhile project to invest in? Scouts are now posted at all times at the pass from where the lizardmen may come. Day and night it is kept under watch, and some voices has been raised as to fortify it into a defensible position to repel further incursions upon your lands. Still, it will be a long time before you may consider yourselves safe. [b]Population:[/b] 189 men, 187 women, 51 children. [b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. [b]Food level:[/b] Above average [b]Resources:[/b] Stone, lumber, copper. [b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistant [b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistant [b]Growth:[/b] Base: 5% [i]+1% from food level, +0% from morale = 6%.[/i] [b]Morale:[/b] Indifferent [b]Foreign relations:[/b] [indent]- [color=orange]Lizardmen of Ves'Tuk[/color]: [color=red]Hostile[/color][/indent][/hider] [h3][color=0054a6]The Children of Artemon[/color][/h3] [@Pirate] [Hider=Turn 2]A watermill! Of course! Fandral slapped himself on the forehead as he came to the realization. [i]How couldn't I think of that sooner?[/i] he thought. The village collective had decided that a water mill was a very worthwhile effort and would yield great results. Everyone had unanimously agreed, and the task had been given to Fandral, a seasoned builder. He had the manpower, the resources and the knowledge. He wasn't the best builder, but a water mill was simple enough. While lesser races had swooned at the mathematics and physics that are to be incorporated in the seemingly basic structure, high elven builders were more than capable of such a feat. In the blink of an eye, the structure and it's great wheel had been built and Fandral stood admiring his handiwork. He looked over the field to the north, and saw the scouting party return. [i]Ah, what great timing. I wonder what news they bring. They seem well.[/i] he thought. The scouts had just returned from the abandoned settlement among the mountains. They brought their news to the village, then resupplied themselves and went back north-east to scout out the caves more thoroughly. There was no telling if there was still anything left in there, but initial searches had found naught but fungi, insects and small rodents. Oh, and some bats. What had lived in the caves was still unsure, but some droppings had given the clue that whatever humanoid-esquelings dwelled there before, they were small of stature and rather... Primitive. With the water mill built, it would be able to sustain full-time production of a large (comparatively to the rest of the village) bakery. Fandral was once again given the task, and he set his plans and builders to work immediately. In yet another few blinks, seemingly, a bakery was constructed. This way, a higher level of food production would start to take root. [color=gray][Food-level stabilized at above average. Former refugees and original children of artemon alike are now fed.][/color] While it was common for childbirth to be complicated business, child mortality was generally very low, and had been for thousands of years for most elven races. Each life was sacredly held by all elves, and life itself was of the highest values. To speak of death to or with an elf would often be taken as a rather rude gesture, especially if a person of another race or even subrace spoke of it. Except for the wood elves, arguably, the high elves were the kind of elves to hold life in the highest regard. Indeed, the death of an elf is a tragedy. The death of a newborn child, however... Unspeakable. A baby boy of only three months had battled with illness since birth, and while most elves had high hopes of his life, even the medicine men, he did not live to see his fourth month. He died of high fever, and his parents grieved severely. The village collectively visited the family to offer their condolences. It was another small tragedy to dot the road of the High Elves' long way through life. It had seemed recently that their luck had turned, by finding a new home together after the Lothelonni and the Children of Artemon had fled from enemy onslaught and natural calamity. Yet, this seemingly small death reminded them of the reality of things. [color=gray][A child has died after a period of illness. Life continues, but the village is silently mourning the loss of life.][/color] [b]A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other[/b] [b]Population:[/b] 140 men, 141 women, 51 children. [b]Military:[/b] 15 Elf-at-Arms. Militia able to be conscripted up to 20% of adult population. [b]Food level:[/b] Above average [b]Resources:[/b] Lumber, fish, [color=gray]stone [i](small quantities.)[/i][/color] [b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistant [b]Trade:[/b] [indent]Imports: [i]Raw leather and animal goods from [color=orange]Giant Camp[/color].[/i] Exports: [i]Processed leather goods to [color=orange]Giant Camp[/color].[/i][/indent] [b]Growth:[/b] Base: 4% [i]+1% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.[/i] [b]Morale:[/b] Indifferent [b]Foreign relations:[/b] [indent]- [color=ed1c24]Bonesnapper Tribe:[/color] [color=red]Hated[/color] - [color=orange]Giant Camp:[/color] [color=lightgreen]Friendly[/color] - [color=lightgreen]Lothelonni:[/color] [color=green][Assimilated][/color] - [color=00CED1]Iceborn:[/color] [color=yellow]Neutral[/color][/indent][/hider] [h3][color=DarkSlateGray]Clan Oreborn[/color][/h3] [@Kangutso] [Hider=Turn 2]The construction of an entire city would not be an easy task. The group of 40 masons, builders and architects decided to begin in small scales and increase efforts as they increased their actual capacity. As such, they started work on a modest entrance into the mountain. For now, they would remain above ground as they carved out dwellings, walls, yards and other necessary spaces from the very rock itself. There was no telling of when this gargantuan task would be completed, but as small 'districts' started to take shape and became operational, dwarves started moving in from their temporary dwellings down at the base of the mountains. [color=gray][City completed in: ?? turns.][/color] [b]A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other[/b] [b]Population:[/b] 159 men, 155 women, 57 children. [b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. [b]Food level:[/b] Average [b]Resources:[/b] Copper, tin, gold, lumber, iron. [b]Wealth:[/b] Very low [color=gray][i](Consisting mostly of raw gold ore for now)[/i][/color] [b]Trade:[/b] [indent]- Mutual small-scale trade with the Ursar.[/indent] [b]Growth:[/b] Base: 5% [i]+0% from food level, +0% from morale = 5%.[/i] [b]Morale:[/b] Indifferent [b]Foreign relations:[/b] - The Ursar: [color=lightgreen][i]Friendly[/i][/color] - The Brown-Skin Orcs: [color=gray][i]Not yet met.[/i][/color] - The Lilitu: [color=gray][i]Not yet met.[/i][/color][/hider] [h3][color=DarkGray]The Lycan Covenant[/color][/h3] [@Pyromaniacwolf] [color=red]No post found. 3 turns until auto-dropout.[/color] [Hider=Turn 1]It was a hard-fought battle. At first it had seemed the Lycans had the numbers and morale on their side, perhaps even the gods themselves, but the Ogre warlord was cunning and ruthless. He was no stranger to war. While Vlath had focused his strongest warriors in the front and riled up everyone's spirits, the strange pale-skinned ogres had marched in unison and purpose towards the lycan formations. Vlath ordered the charge, and from atop the hill well over a hundred lycans had rushed their enemy with weapon, fang and claw. Vlath himself had used his new powers efficiently, having been able to personally dispatch several armored ogre vanguards by channeling his new powers through his body to increase his strength and dexterity. While he had found he could not yet call upon dark magics to devestate his enemies, he could fuel himself beyond mortal strength and fought with the power of ten of his kind. However, when one Ogre fell at his post another took his place. After a few minutes of hard fighting, the ogres shifted their ranks. Rested soldiers came forward while the tired ones were allowed to rest towards the back. They repeated the tactic, always ensuring they were fighting with full strength. The lycans were ferocious and beyond average stamina, but they had no such battlestrategy in place. Their strategy was brute strength and ferocity, and it seemed to be working at first. The Ogre centre gave in, allowing lycan warriors to drive a wedge through their lines, but suddenly their advance came to a halt. The ogres had gave ground purposely, and now had the lycan centre flanked from all sides as they had driven their wedge into the ogre lines. Vlath could only watch as several of his warriors fell, and as more and more blood painted the grass and mud, it became clear to him that this battle was lost. His commanders started to order a retreat, and his warriors began pulling back. The Ogres advanced and came after them, but their armor weighed them down and they dared not run. The Lycan retreat was unchallanged, but the disorganized warriors made it look more like a route. All survivors made it back to the settlement, but those who could not fight had taken the children under guidance from Mex and Basir as ordered and sought refuge in the mountain to the north. Vlath and his commanders had survived, some slightly wounded but still standing, but another 30 lycans had to be left behind, either dead or too wounded to retreat. The survivors were likely taken captive, and as Vlath organized the rest of the settlement's inhabitants to flee north to the mountain, the Ogres caught up. They cut off their escape by flanking the village to the west and to the north, as if they knew the layout of the lands exactly. The Ogre warlord stood upon a hill, overlooking the village, and raised a flag. Vlath knew what it meant; the warlord called for an audience. The Ogre forces remained at their posts flanking the village, waiting for Vlath to show himself. Growling, he realized he had no choice. At first, he thought he would rather die than parlay with their enemy, but he knew better than to not seek the Gods' council. And so he did. He ordered his warriors to stand down, but be at the ready in case the Ogres had enough of waiting, and he went to his hut where he had erected a small shrine. He drew a knife, cut his palm and let a few drops of blood drip into a chalice of stone. He closed his eyes, and reached out into the void to speak with his pantheon. At first; silence. Then, he could feel a pressence course through his scars, the scars he had received only hours ago from his gods. They spoke to him through the power they had granted him. What little words his mind could comprehend told him to not die here in vain. His part to play in the living world was not yet over, and the Gods would severely punish him if he died now before he completed what they had demanded of him: the blood of the lesser races. Indeed, the battle had spilled the blood of a few ogres, but not nearly enough to repay the loss of Lycan life. The gods were angry, but not with Vlath, but with the ogres. A final order echoed through Vlath's mind, ringing like a bell, shaking him to the core. [i]Don't you dare fail us, Vlath. Live and retreat. Live to fight another day. The time will come where your vengeance upon the Ogres will be complete, and on that day we will reward you and your people greatly. You are our chosen, our champions that walk the mortal plane.[/i] Vlath was unsure how to proceed, even though he planned to do what the Gods bid. Was he to pack up and leave? Try to escape the ogre warband? No, they were too many and their escaperoute was cut off. After a few minutes of meditation, he came up with a plan. And so it came to be that Vlath met with Durgal, the Ogre Warlord, and allowed his village to be annexed. Months have passed since then, and the Ogres arrive once a week to collect tribute and manpower to no doubt be used as slavelabor. The non-fighters and the children had returned to the village, and all lived under the iron heel of the Ogre, but secretly they all longed to be free. They hated their captors with a burning passion, and all knew a day would come that Vlath rose up against them and overthrew them. But such an act would require cunning, planning and carefully masterminded operations as the Ogres had a numerical, equipment and strategical advantage. Luckily, you have had months of planning. What is Vlath planning to do, to free his people? [b]Population:[/b] 137 men, 131 women, 22 children. [b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population. [b]Food level:[/b] Average [b]Resources:[/b] Requires prospection and industry. [b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistant [b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistant [b]Growth:[/b] Base: 5% [i]+0% from food level,[/i] [i]-1% from morale = 4%.[/i] [b]Morale:[/b] Disgruntled [b]Foreign relations:[/b] [indent]- [color=brown]Durgal's Horde:[/color] [color=darkred][i]Hated[/i][/color][/indent][/hider] [h3][color=DarkGreen]The Orc-Grave Swamp Enclave[/color][/h3] [@Bright_Ops] [Hider=Turn 2]At first, the Goblins with the greatest minds came together and thought, hey, a crossbow can't be that hard. It's basicly a bow mounted on another stick, yeah? As they made prototypes however, they realized such was not the case at all. With each attempt however, they improved their design and increased their understanding of the technology in the process. They feel as if they might indeed learn to create great crossbows soon! Any day now! Totally! [color=gray][Technology advances in 1 turn.][/color] [color=darkgray][b]A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other[/b][/color] [b]Population:[/b] 187 men, 187 women, 64 children. [indent][i](53 of adult population is of Blackskin Goblin descent)[/i][/indent] [b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population. [b]Food level:[/b] Below average [b]Resources:[/b] [color=gray]Hardstone (low quantity)[/color], iron, tin. [b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistant [b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistant [b]Growth:[/b] Base: 8% [color=gray][i]-1% from food level,[/i][/color] [i]+0% from morale = 7%.[/i] [b]Morale:[/b] Indifferent [b]Foreign relations:[/b] You have not met any other civilizations. [/hider] [h3][color=violet]Clan Metalbeard[/color][/h3] [@Lauder] [Hider=Turn 2]By rallying his kin with his rousing speech, Blackhand had indeed shifted the winds of dwarvenkind. At least... Metalbeard kind. Or should one say, Ironbeard kind? It was all so obvious now, Blackhand thought. Their very name speaks of their heritage - Metalbeard was merely an alteration of the ancient founding clan of Ironbeard. Perhaps throughout the years they had become greater than they had once been, and decided to adopt the name of Metalbeard to show their greatness in ALL metals? Or... Perhaps it had been past arrogance? Whatever the cause or fault, just reward or error, it no longer mattered. Clan Metalbeard had endured massive hardship, and found themselves and their identity again as an effect of it. As you look upon your people with pride, oh great King Blackhand, what do you see? What shall be your first action upon this new land? [color=darkgray][b]A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other[/b][/color] [b]Population:[/b] 90 men, 90 women, 20 children. [b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. [b]Food level:[/b] N/A [b]Resources:[/b] None. [b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistant. [b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistant. [b]Growth:[/b] Base: 4% [b]Morale:[/b] Indifferent [b]Foreign relations:[/b] You have not met any other civilizations. [/hider] [h3][color=gold]The Trade Emporium[/color][/h3] [@Timemaster] [color=red]No post found. 3 turns until auto-dropout.[/color] [Hider=Turn 1]Ah, Coinshire. A perfect little hovel of huts and houses halfway dug into the ground. Execpt, it wasn't perfect. It wasn't even fully operational. Your people has recently arrived from gods-know-where and this is, without a doubt, not a very easy time for your people. While you're doing your best, your ruler, William Orbcoin, has yet to make any official announcements as to what to do next. Halfling families tend to be quite large, but even so this meagre population barely has half a child per household. And it's not even a household! These huts are little more than temporary shelter to be improved as time goes on! Nevertheless, the halflings of Coinshire has tough times behind them and tough times ahead of them, but with a bright outlook on the future that things will turn out alright... Or will it? But there are a few different kinds of halflings. Some like best to sit at home and share stories by the hearth, while others prefer to set out into the world and live adventures! Some halflings aren't even called halflings at all, that's how different they are! So... What are the halflings of Coinshire? [hider=Halfling Subraces][b]A) Hillfoots[/b] - The Hillfoot halflings are strong builders and farmers and tend to get round bellies after a while. They are comfortable, honest and friendly. High morale, all around! [b]B) Rockheads[/b] - The Rockhead halflings are craftsmen and traders, eagre to set out into the world but still rather like to be comfortable. They are good diplomats, merchants, sailors and craftsmen. [b]C) Bumblerunners[/b] - With such a hilarious-sounding name, one could only expect the Bumblerunners to be hilarious themselves, but that is not always the case. Bumblerunners are the opposite to Hillfoots. They prefer adventure, moving around, getting up to no good and are excellent thieves, spies, rogues and explorers. That doesn't mean all bad things however, they're halflings after all! [b]D) Kenderkin[/b] - Anyone who's ever met a Kender usually has nothing good to say about them. They're not strictly halflings, but rather a cousin race of traditional halflings. They're less round, more nimble and silghtly shorter. They combine a bit of Rockhead and Bumblerunner tendencies in that they love adventuring, meeting new people, craft new things and see the world. Notably, they're also very good sneaks and have the distinct trait that they don't feel fear. Fear to them is a foreign concept, and they're quite literally physically incapable of feeling fear. Historians and academics have scratched their heads for centuries over the Kender... Just what are they?! [b]E) Familtons[/b] - The Familtons are a family of halflings that proudly boast they count some of every halfling family within their numbers. They may dabble in all that other halfling families do, but may not reach quite the same expertise as focused subraces may.[/hider] [b]Population:[/b] 135 men, 125 women, 55 children. [b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. [b]Food level:[/b] N/A [b]Resources:[/b] None. [b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistant. [b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistant. [b]Growth:[/b] Base: 5% [b]Morale:[/b] Indifferent [b]Foreign relations:[/b] You have not met any other civilizations. [/hider] [h3][color=darkred]Servants of Amarak[/color][/h3] [@PringleDingle] [color=red]No post found. 3 turns until auto-dropout.[/color] [Hider=Turn 1]All glory to Amarak! He has lead us to this new land - Nehgrob Nek'sa - to become his chosen! His medium through which he will hold dominion over these realms. It is up to you, High Priest Gahd'Sihkra to guide your people through this monumental task that you have taken upon yourself to fullfill your oath. You are Trolls, savage and cunning, with natural regeneration and great strength. But there are several breeds of Troll. While you share some traits, you may find other traits less common. You are... [hider=Troll Subraces][b]A) Forest Trolls[/b] - Typically green of skin, has strong shamanistic or druidic beliefs and magic available to them, and can camoflague themselves in wooded areas. [b]B) Rock Trolls[/b] - With skin gray and hard as rock, it is no wonder this breed has gotten this name. They have increased strength and intellect at the cost of slower movement and lower growth. Through geomancy they may also channel earthly magic. [b]C) Dark Trolls[/b] - With black or purple skin, the Dark Trolls use shadow magic and cannibalism as the centre of their religion. They can see clearly during the night, and they have the strongest magical capability of all trollkind. [b]D) Blood Trolls[/b] - Redskinned and savage beyond compare. The strongest, most ferocious of all troll-kind, these trolls pride themselves in strength and find glory in war. They are quite magically handicapped, but neither does magic seem to bite them as hard as other races. [b]E) Unchosen[/b] - A strange self-given from long ago, these 'Unchosen' trolls are said to have been disowned by all Troll Gods and pantheons and banded together. They house all breeds of troll, thereby gaining all their strengths but also all their weaknesses and they cannot reach the same height as the other breeds.[/hider] [b]Population:[/b] 94 men, 93 women, 21 children. [b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. [b]Food level:[/b] N/A [b]Resources:[/b] None. [b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistant. [b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistant. [b]Growth:[/b] Base: 4% [b]Morale:[/b] Indifferent [b]Foreign relations:[/b] You have not met any other civilizations. [/hider] [h3][color=steelblue]The Elven Enclave[/color][/h3] [@ArisenMoon] [Hider=Turn 2]The first seeds had been sowed. Soon, they would grow to provide life to your people. In time, you too would return to the earth, and the cycle would begin anew. The great cycle of life was something you, as Wood Elves, held dearer to your heart than any other race upon this earth. As you made your homes among the trees and gathered the fruits, nuts, mushrooms and berries from the region around you, life began to take shape in the settlement. Archon Soleian looked upon his people with pride as they diligently rebuilt a life for themselves. New families had already formed, and the former expedition had turned into a colony of sorts. Further away in a clearing, five recruits trained hard with the master elf-at-arms. Soon, Soleian thought, they would become great soldiers and their discipline would be a great pride of the Enclave, despite elves hating war in general. [color=gray][Food level currently below average. It will continue to grow over the next few turns as your crops begin to yield results.][/color] [color=darkgray][b]A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other[/b][/color] [b]Population:[/b] 93 men, 92 women, 21 children. [b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Currently training 5 recruits. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. [b]Food level:[/b] Below average [b]Resources:[/b] None. [b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistant. [b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistant. [b]Growth:[/b] Base: 4% [color=gray][i]-1% from food level,[/i][/color] [i]+0% from morale = 3%.[/i] [b]Morale:[/b] Indifferent [b]Foreign relations:[/b] You have not met any other civilizations. [/hider]