[center][h3]Turn 7[/h3]

[hider=The Map]
[img][/img]
Coming soon!
[/hider][/center]

[h3][color=crimson]The Levogh[/color][/h3]
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[color=red]((No turn 6 post; your stuff is frozen until you post again.))[/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] 146 men, 143 women, 75 children.
[b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to about 30% of adult population.
[b]Food level:[/b] Average; improving
[b]Resources:[/b] (Potentially magical) moon fungi
[b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Growth:[/b] [i]Low; impacted by racial traits.[/i]
[b]Morale:[/b] Average
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] [color=palegoldenrod]Brotherhood of the Moon's Wise Children: Friendly[/color]
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[h3][color=DarkGray]The Lycan Covenant[/color][/h3]
[hider]

Vlath tore Vera's tongue out with his own claws, then cast it into the mud. The void demon by his side offered no reaction, but somehow Vlath felt conviction. Even if its face showed nothing, the void gods were watching through that vessel, and they had seen him mete out a heretic's punishment. Not even the fool's kin cried or protested the Voidcaller's harsh decree, but the skies wept for Vera and his fate. The skies [i]always[/i] wept, and after so long the damage had begun to grow catastrophic. Some of the more crudely built shelters had collapsed, and some built upon slopes had simply been washed away along with the hills that they had rested upon. Many of the rabbits had drowned, and now their breeding and sheltering was being neglected in favor of war preparations.

There were many that looked to this hellish new land and made vocal their thoughts; some proclaimed it cursed and reckoned that it would be their peoples' final resting place if the covenant didn't move. The endless deluge had shattered morale and brought them close to the brink even without the cryptic warnings of enemies in the sea, but when Vlath proclaimed that there were enemies upon the land as well, the winds and torrential rains began to die down and would eventually come to a full stop later in that day. The storms hadn't simply dissipated, but had rather traveled out into the open sea before sweeping out to the west. There was a great deal of nervousness at first; some suspected that this meant the void gods had expended the last of their strength staving off the sea and that the monsters would clamber onto the shore at any moment, but that never happened. Instead, the warm sun returned to dry their dampened fur and offer a respite. Nobody knew how long it would last, but they seized the opportunity to repair what damage the storm had caused.

There were no idlers; the Goldtooth rebuilt and crafted weapons, Silentpaw heeded Vlath's call to scout further inland for signs of any enemies, and the others hunted or sparred to sharpen their rusty skills in combat. Vlath had a restless night; his mind was plagued now with even more questions, but when he finally found his way to the world of dreamers, he did not hear the whispers of any gods. Instead he found himself pulled in two directions--west, and south. He surrendered first to that one in the west, and his spirit soared over mountain and plain until it finally came to some distant shoreline, but there it did not stop. Over the familiar waves of the same sea. Scattered about were several great ships sailing east, but even as mighty waves rocked the wooden hulks and winds nearly tore the sails free from the mast, there were no signs of any sailors.

[hider=What he saw in the dream]
[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ae/a5/33/aea53370eadfde0a562881793ec98c69.png[/img]
[i]A monster emerged from the depths; he was a terrible sea giant bearing a trident that crackled with lightning.[/i][/center][/hider]

It could only have been a god, but even the revelation that this young god was nothing before the might of the void gods did little to still the raw terror that the image provoked. Vlath watched as the giant drove his trident into a ship as nonchalantly as if he were only a harpooner spearing salmon out of a river. He dragged the wooden hulk down into the water, hiding it forever. As the ship splintered and broke Vlath witnessed countless hordes of those fishy monsters swimming into the hold; they must have been the giant's minions. Ripping and biting, they dragged out the hulking pale bodies of what must have been the ship's sailors, but the sailors slept peacefully and didn't so much as flail, much less try to swim away. It was as if they had all been enchanted into paralysis under the deck and left utterly helpless.

So [i]that[/i] was one of the enemies that they faced. At least the lycans could take solace in that some other fools had somehow drawn the ire of that sea giant and that he and his minions were far from Wulfhelm's shores, at least for the time being.

With that out of the way, Vlath allowed himself to be swept away by the other force that tugged at him, but it didn't bring him anywhere...instead, he merely felt as though he were being impaled. It dragged at him, pulling him down even as his back was pressed into some point. He howled and tried to twist around, but couldn't; he was trapped like a fish on a hook. He could only look down to see the giant hooves of a beast whose horn had skewered him...

Vlath awakened the next day. Even as the sun still shone, its warm rays had yet to completely dry every bit of the drenched landscape. Some scouts on the southern grasslands had reported having seen great plumes of dust in the far distance. Knowing that those were the sort of dust clouds kicked up by herds of stampeding animals, they had tried to approach the clouds and make out just what sort of creature was leaving them behind, but the clouds moved with the speed of the wind itself and the lycans were unable to close the considerable gap between themselves and the distant beasts, much less actually catch up enough to peer through the dust clouds and look upon whatever was thundering across the plains. Predictably, when they finally came to where the dustclouds had been some few hours before, they found heavy hooved tracks freshly pounded into the ground--the same tracks that the hunters had described seeing in these parts weeks earlier.

As of yet, no scouts had returned with any further information of note, but it would only be a matter of time before this threat of the land became aware of their presence and manifested itself. The gods did not lie, and [i]something[/i] was out there in the grasslands.

But before any sort of pitched battle, there were a few preparations that could be made:

[color=gray]A) Gather up all the warriors and prepare an ambush. Instead of waiting for this enemy to eventually stumble across Wulfhelm and attack it, the Covenant could venture into the grasslands, or perhaps to the sites where Vlath had claimed the strange obelisks and conjured the void demons. Then perhaps this enemy would come to [i]them[/i] and be caught unawares.
B) Take advantage of the respite from the storms and use this time to fortify Wulfhelm. Pallisade walls, traps, and trenches could be quickly created, and perhaps there would even be time to create some sort of proper fortress.
C) Abandon Wulfhelm and find a more defensible position to settle, perhaps farther from the sea or within the forest across the river.
D) Plead with the void gods for further help in the trials to come; though they seem to remain fixated upon that sea god, perhaps Vlath could get their attention through prayer and rituals and ask for more champions. But then again, the gods had already given much, and from their wording in those recent dreams they hadn't seemed terribly pleased with the Convenant...
X) Other.[/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] 136 men, 136 women, 63 pups.
[b]Livestock:[/b] Small number of rabbits
[b]Military:[/b] 2 void monsters. Militia able to be conscripted up to about 30% of adult population.
[b]Food level:[/b] Slightly below average; being improved
[b]Resources:[/b] Lumber (low quantity; increasing)
[b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Growth:[/b] [i]Low; impacted from food level.[/i]
[b]Morale:[/b] Average; brought up by respite from rain, brought down by food level
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] None
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[h3][color=lightblue]Attolia[/color][/h3]
[hider]

Caelis defused the question of how ownership of the cattle would be handled; the topic was left to sink to the back of the elves' minds. There were more pressing issues, like that of the strange spirit that had manifested before them.

The shade before Lady Saphira glanced to the side for a brief moment when Caelis tried to garner its attention, but when it looked to the feasting it radiated a dismissive scorn. The animal spirits did not seem entirely afraid of that 'ancestor' spirit; they certainly knew it, but they kept their distance. The same could not be said for Saphira.

In one long stride it closed the gap between itself and her. A wispy arm of smoke reached out as if to caress her face, but once it touched her flesh, the hazy limb took form and long, spindly fingers came down to hold her throat in an icy grip. Caelis' hesitation had given it time to act, and before their eyes the ghost pulled itself into an embrace. A gasp escaped Saphira as the ghost dissolved into a dark smoke that forced its way into her mouth and nose and ears and even eyes, then she fell to the ground and was motionless. The light in her eyes was gone...

[hider=...replaced by emptiness]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/VoiA0d9.png[/img][/center]
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The mystically attuned gathered around her still form. Saphira may as well have been dead, but her body still breathed. The ancestor spirit had found its way into her body, but her own soul was still in there too, somewhere deep down. There were murmurs of exorcism, but before the elves assembled for the conclave could reach any consensus, Saphira suddenly sat up. Her eyes were still empty and without even irises, but they now saw in the spirit world. "This is a worthy vessel," she suddenly croaked. She cleared her throat, then spoke a bit more clearly, "I live to fight once again! Point me to your enemies! Give me only a bow and a horse, and for every arrow in my quiver one will fall."

The spirit to inhabit Saphira had looked like one of them, and now that it spoke like them it was quite likely to be a true ancestor. But the idea of allowing some long-dead warrior to claim Lady Saphira as a "vessel" naturally met some resistance, even if it professed to contribute its prowess as a mighty warrior. None had the gall to stop the spirit vessel as she had seen to claiming a steed and a bow; for one that had been dead for so long, the spirit seemed to actually care very little about the doings of its descendants. It would hardly ever eat or sleep, it spent all its waking time riding or practicing archery (and it may as well have been a god at both!), and to those that approached it would hardly speak of anything other than its longing for battle. When it wasn't present, some whispered that they should attempt an exorcism, or at least ask it to abandon Saphira's body. Others were elated at the prospect of being able to offer their bodies to be shared with the greatest of their warrior ancestors. There were voices that wanted to repeat the ritual in hopes of attracting more ancestors of that nature; if they tried, it would probably be relatively easy to create more spirit vessels.

And if that were not enough, several of the shamans reported that they had shared a common dream in which a dark spirit rose from the ground like swamp tar from a rotting cesspool. They said that they could sense the spirit held some sort of grudge, and that it plotted to bring ruin to them.

[b]A) Improve food
B) Improve military technology
C) Improve infrastructure, and some w
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] 136 men, 136 women, 73 children.
[b]Military:[/b] 1 elite warrior (spirit vessel). Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
[b]Livestock:[/b] A large herd of cattle
[b]Food level:[/b] Above Average
[b]Resources:[/b] Horses (A small number)
[b]Wealth:[/b] 250 pounds of gold; some precious jewels
[b]Trade:[/b] Some internal trade, facilitated by currency
[b]Growth:[/b] [i]Average; impacted by racial traits and good food level[/i]
[b]Morale:[/b] Below average (ill omens, and Saphira just got possessed)
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] None
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[h3][color=darkgreen]The ap-Cantar[/color][/h3]
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[color=red]((No turn 6 post; your stuff is frozen until you post again.

Honestly Kho, if we're going to collab every post you might just get exempted from the turn system. How would it feel to be the speshul snowflake that doesn't get turn updates?))[/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] 161 men, 304 women, 124 children.
[b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 40% of adult population.
[b]Food level:[/b] Above average
[b]Resources:[/b] None
[b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Growth:[/b] [i]Average[/i] (influenced by food level and recent events)
[b]Morale:[/b] Below Average (Discontent due to ashfall)
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] None
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[h3][color=purple]The Mustaqilun Tribe[/color][/h3]
[hider]

As Rukdug prayed to the sabercat, he found his fingers wandering to the iron disc. He opened his eyes and looked to the thing in a new way.

[hider=Revelation]
[center][img]https://dqm6xz8rwaelz.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/Shuriken.png[/img]
[i]It was a weapon, of course. How had it taken so long to figure out what the thing did?[/i][/center][/hider]

The warchief suddenly hurled the disc, and it spun in a silent arc and embedded itself into a bird. The thing fell from the air like a stone, landing upon its head. Rukdug looked at it with some level of amusement; the fall had crushed its skull and left it looking as if Rut Unuabu had killed it himself. Was that...some sort of sign?

In any case, later that day the tunnels were collapsed. There was such an air of paranoia among the Mustaqilun that none sought to question or defy Rukdug's orders; most just seemed grateful for the strong leadership. The miners reported having seen figures in the dark down there and heard strangle sounds echoing from below once the earth began to rumble, but perhaps that was merely their paranoia. Those lower levels of the cavern were successfully collapsed without any true incident, and it was almost as if the firestones had never existed to begin with. Almost. There was still the disappearance of those fifteen to contend with, as well as the fear that such a mess had wrought.

And now there was [i]also[/i] the issue of another few dozen vanished into thin air! None of the hunting parties sent into the mountains in search of goats had returned. It was enough to make him want to kill something, but at this point half the tribe was too afraid to even leave Riverforge to take a piss, much less go on a hunting expedition. At least the boars seemed to be growing more docile; these days the number of fools gored by the crazed beasts had been on the decline. But then again, maybe that was just the animals' caretakers acting less stupid.

After several days passed, there finally came some answers. Three orcs were found wandering lost through the tunnels. One was among the shamans that vanished days ago in the lowermost (now collapsed) tunnels, and the remaining two each represented one of the missing parties that had been on the surface searching for goats. The two hunters had little to say; they said that they had remembered nothing of what happened, only that they had been in the forests one moment and then their memories abruptly ended. They had been confined alone and in utter darkness for the better part of a day, before they finally heard the voices of what they assumed to have been their captors, "Return to your village, and tell the chieftain to walk alone down the river to meet us."

That was all that had been said before they were taken from their prisons and eventually abandoned in the dark of the caverns not far from the arsenic and copper mines. As they weren't very familiar with the tunnels, it had been some time before the miners down there had stumbled across the lost orcs.

The shaman had more to report. He looked somewhat worse for the wear; there were numerous bruises upon him as well as a fresh scar left by burns. He thought that he had seen the strange assailants for a brief moment; they were small, cowardly creatures clad in black that had erupted from the darkness and ambushed the shamans gathered around the firestones. Even though they had carried metal blades, the ninjas had seemed determined to take prisoners and had thus used less lethal weapons. They had thrown some sort of objects that had exploded with blinding flashes, then shot some kind of darts with powerful paralytic poison. The few that weren't almost immediately subdued in that ambush were then swarmed and beaten down by some sort of strange flails. It was easy to imagine how the two hunters might have remembered nothing if they were the first to fall when their parties were similarly ambushed.

But beyond memory of his abduction, the shaman also claimed to have been tortured and interrogated. They had beaten him and burned him with a branding rod; even though he was separated from the others, on a few occasions he had heard their screams and knew that they had suffered similar fates. Over and over, they had asked questions about some strange things called oni: were they serving the oni? Were they trying to make weapons for the oni? Did they deal with oni or trade with them? Did they summon oni?

Eventually they had grown convinced that the orc shamans truly knew nothing of oni, and their questions had shifted to more generic inquiries about the orcs' tribe, how many of them there were, their history, and so on. Someone must have mentioned the Dark One, for even though this shaman hadn't uttered that name, they had eventually begun to ask a great deal of questions about that as well: was the Dark One an oni?

After only a few hours the questions had stopped and the shaman was left alone in the darkness. Occasionally the captors brought him dried meat or water, but there were no more interrogations, and he never again saw them. In fact, even during the interrogations with the glow of the branding rod, he had hardly seen them; it seemed as if these creatures could see perfectly well in the darkness and never needed light.

After some unknown length of time, they finally told him that oni were their ancient enemy and that the distant eruption was an ill omen. They had been watching Riverforge for some time now and were not going to act until they knew more, but the orcs' tampering with the firestones below had forced their hand. In any case, they said that they had seen the orcs bury the firestones, and so they had eventually freed the shaman and left him in the tunnels alongside the two hunters. Before they left, they also told him that his return was meant to be a sign of goodwill to Rukdug the chieftain, and that he was to deliver the exact same message: "Tell the chieftain to walk alone down the river to meet us."

Now the question was whether Rukdug would risk indulging the request, and whether he would be willing to have peace with some band of cowards that had kidnapped and tortured his people.

[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] 164 men, 190 women, 93 children. (32 orcs missing; 14 of the shamans and 18 hunters)
[b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population.
[b]Livestock:[/b] Numerous partially domesticated boars
[b]Food level:[/b] Average
[b]Resources:[/b] River stones (small amount; being gradually depleted), [i][color=gray]copper, zinc, and arsenic[/color][/i] (decent amount; not yet being worked or smelted into alloys)
[b]Wealth:[/b] Some semi-precious gemstones
[b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Growth:[/b] [i]Average[/i]
[b]Morale:[/b] Low; impacted by 30+ missing people
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] [i]Ninjas: ???[/i]
[/hider]

[h3][color=orange]Orr'gavol: The Hammersworn[/color][/h3]
[hider]

It was the dead of winter and the winds carried a frigid bite. The dwarves followed their mandate and took to sparring and drilling outside, even as the sweat on their face froze and their beards became messes of icicles. Yet the furnaces and forges now burned with a searing heat; aye, a heat mighty enough to melt stone. By the gods, they would be able to work steel once again. The question now became of what to do with the limited furnaces and forges; there was only so much infrastructure that they had right now, and even with plenty of hands to work, it was too much to make tools and armor and weapons and this newly invented 'Thunderhorn'. One of those would need to take priority.

That aforementioned Thunderhorn was not met without some degree of skepticism; making a powerful instrument would require alloys beyond mere steel as well as expert craftsmanship and a good deal of time using the forge. To conjure a sound loud enough to act as a weapon, the instrument would need to be of a great size that would make it cumbersome to transport. Then there was the issue of how there was hardly any guarantee that it would be enough to repel the Abductor, but perhaps it would be better than nothing.

Construction stubbornly continued on the fortress that would guard the mountain pass. Bit by bit, its foundation and walls rose from the snow-covered ground like any other rocky outcrop, but in the end this would be a bastion rather than some mere rock.

[hider=The Fort]
[center][img]https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/atorf/images/b/bb/Treurand.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20131104152035[/img][/center][/hider]

There was as of yet no further sign of the Abductor or the Ice King or the trolls, or of those that the bird had stolen. Godrim stood upon his peak and continued his long vigil, and that offered at least some comfort to those in the nearby iron mine.

[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] 222 men, 224 women, 107 children.
[b]Military:[/b] No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population.
[b]Food level:[/b] Below average; food stores decreasing
[b]Resources:[/b] Lignite coal (low grade; large amount, increasing), iron ore (small quantity, increasing)
[b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Growth:[/b] [i]Average[/i]
[b]Morale:[/b] Shaken, due to Abductor's attack
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] None
[/hider]

[h3][color=aba000]The Aedelfaari[/color][/h3]
[hider]

The bear's eye quickly flickered over to look at Eric when the king bid him to send the birds to harass the troll and his men aboard the ship, and perhaps to the surprise of the Aedels, it seemed to understand. The bear stood up on its hind legs, suddenly towering over all the assembled creatures save for the mighty walking tree, and it loosed a bestial call to the birds and pointed a claw to the ship. Entire flocks of all manner of birds erupted from the upper boughs of the trees and flew forward; there were great birds of prey flying right alongside the tiny songbirds that they might have otherwise hunted. That sudden advance was provocation enough for the corsairs, for their line suddenly ceased their slow and nervous retreat. "Fire!" that balded first mate commanded, and the swordsmen knelt down and covered their ears while the ones holding the strange sticks leveled their weapons and in unison unleashed some sort of magic. The sticks flashed with flame and smoke, and there were deafening bangs, and unseen missiles (or perhaps ones that flew too fast for the eyes to even perceive?) tore into the assembled ranks of stag, bear, wolf, and man.

The animals began a wild and disorganized charge forward even as the pirates stepped back and seemed to be desperately reloading their weapons for a second volley. They managed to fire once again just as the two lines met and the carnage began in earnest. Deadly blade and bullet were met with fang and raw strength; in the span of seconds there were dozens that died, and the smell of smoke and blood hung heavily in the air and overpowered the fresh salt spray. Throughout all of this time, the ent had been lumbering toward the beach. Even as the beaks and talons of countless birds tore at them, the troll and his men managed to fix the iron tube squarely upon the ent, light a fuse, and dive for cover. The cannon boomed loud enough to clap the ears of everyone on the beach and shake the air like thunder, and a great lump of iron was blasted into the ent while a hail of smaller shrapnel tore through the beasts around it.

The ent staggered backward with a hole torn into the side of it, but then began to advance forward again with renewed anger. The beasts and Aedels before it leaped out of the way as it waded through the hapless ranks of pirates and came upon the side of the beached ship, and with a mighty heave it began to slowly push the entire boat over. But then the troll procured a clay pot filled with oil, set the thing aflame, and hurled it at the ent. The part of the tree that was struck nearly instantly became immolated, and if trees could scream, this one did. It released its hold on the ship and fell backward to wallow in the sea in some desperate bid to quench the flames.

Meanwhile, the ragged remnants of the pirates that had been on the beach were now in full retreat. They abandoned the dead and the dying to run into the waters and try to climb back aboard their ship. Even as the pirates flailed their cutlasses through the air, the birds bravely continued to harass them and spare the beasts below from suffering a second cannon shot. It was only the bears and the Aedels that pursued the pirates now, for they could swim and were still deadly enough in the water. The stags were unable to climb up the ship or fight in the water, so they began to withdraw.

The pirates fought to a last man, and Captain Tusks made sure to go down with a fight. The red troll looked like a crazed devil as he fought with a cutlas in each hand and cut down a half dozen foes, but in the end he found himself pushed back to the edge of the deck, right into the waiting hands of the wounded ent. Come back for vengeance, the tree snatched up the pirate captain and bashed him against the ship. The troll was probably dead after the very first time his head was smashed against the wooden planks, but for good measure the ent must have done it a half dozen times before it released its grip on what was left of the troll. The battle was finally over, and though the Aedels had taken some losses as had all the other animals, they had made a good showing of themselves and Eric had survived to see it. In hindsight he realized that even as he had blowed his horn at the battle's start, there had never been any music or sign of the deerman's presence in response. But in any case, the beasts did not seem very distressed by the lack of their master's presence. Instead they began to care for their wounded, dragging away those that could make it and at least offering company and comfort to the ones near death. They treated the wounded Aedels no differently; the battle had been a very brief one and there had hardly been time for the civilians at Waebury to prepare their medical supplies, but when they did come some hours later, they were able to tend to and save a few of the wounded warriors and even one or two of the animals as well.

...and then a low growl from one of the wolves caught the attention of one of the medics. One of the pirates laying upon the shore had suddenly coughed, and the wolf had been about to finish the unexpected survivor with a quick bite to the throat, but the civilian cried out and the animal hesitated and stopped. It looked around at the other remaining animals, probably trying to defer to the bear, but the bear was nowhere to be seen. After several moments, its eyes finally found their way to Eric's, as if it was deferring the judgement to him. As the king stepped closer, he realized that he recognized this pirate: it was that bald first mate, the one they'd called Fairhair. His wounds were substantial, but if given medical attention, he could perhaps survive.

[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] 203 men, 210 women, 94 children. (Minor casualties suffered in the battle)
[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] Lumber (small quantity)
[b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Growth:[/b] [i] Above Average; influenced by food and morale[/i]
[b]Morale:[/b] Above average; returning to normal
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] 
[color=Green][i]Lord of the Forest[/i]: Friendly[/color]
[color=Gold][i]Fusebeard's Freebooters[/i]: Wary[/color] ((It'd probably be worse if there were any pirates left to run off and tell the tale!))
[/hider]

[h3][color=Blue]Oguurec Dekaan[/color][/h3]
[hider]

Because they didn't want to get blasted sky high and over the mountains, the goblins made sure to take their squabbling a long ways away from the camp. There were some nice little wooded areas on the mountain slopes, perfect for dueling. A cunning goblin could take shelter behind a tree, then conjure an explosion to knock down the tree that his cowardly enemy was hiding behind! By the end of a duel, there were usually plenty of trees knocked down. Granted they were often also halfway burnt to cinders or reduced to splinters, but there was still plenty of lumber laying around that could eventually be put to use for houses or something else. The stupid goats seemed calmer now that the explosions were more like rolling thunder coming from the mountains rather than earth-shaking blasts coming from a few yards away.

All was going well, until Joz came to whisper in Uxu's ear: he had been out in the mountains blasting gits, when he had suddenly felt eyes upon himself. He had turned to the treeline, and glimpsed just a flash of [i]something[/i] holding a bow. Then of course he'd laid down suppressive explosions and ran for his life, because he wasn't in the business of getting sniped by ominous stalker-archers.

[hider=Shadows behind the trees]
[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/02/0a/77/020a77780fff0fefddaddc6d76b8bbe3.jpg[/img]
[i]Tall, wiry woodsmen lurked out there.[/i][/center]
[/hider]

Perhaps laying down the suppressive explosion was a bad idea because it might have been seen as an attack, but Joz was [i]pretty sure[/i] that he didn't blow up the stranger. They could try rummaging through the forest to find the archer and explain it to them, or they could perhaps just blow up the entire forest. Or maybe they could just do nothing and hope that the git hiding in the tree and any of his friends would have just buggered off.

[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] 206 men, 207 women, 84 children.
[b]Livestock:[/b] Small herd of untamed goats
[b]Military:[/b] 15 Kooch Hor mages. Militia able to be conscripted up to 40% of adult population.
[b]Food level:[/b] Below Average
[b]Resources:[/b] Lumber (moderate amount; low quality)
[b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Growth:[/b] [i]Average; influenced by low food and racial traits[/i]
[b]Morale:[/b] Average
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] [i]None[/i]
[/hider]

[h3][color=rosybrown]Mol'nan Tribe[/color][/h3]
[hider]

It was a long climb through the wooded foothills. For several days they bore the ships on their shoulders and carried the great wooden hulks inland, but soon that task became impossible; the terrain was too rugged and the ships too massive, even for creatures of such strength. So they finally abandoned the ships and continued their journey without them; ships would do them little good in the mountains, and there were enough trees to be had that not even scuttling the ships to salvage their materials seemed worth the continued effort. The storms hung over the air for several days and a light rain fell upon them as they made their journey. 

With every step away from those wooden vessels, the ogres felt renewed control over their own destiny. The hills and mountains of these parts were verdant. There were many small brooks carrying crisp and pure water from the distant peaks and game was bountiful, so their first days in this new land were not so bad. Of course, it became better when  the rains finally abated and they came across a place that looked fit to settle.

The only problem was that it seemed they had not simply stumbled upon a vacant country to claim for their own and occupy uncontested.

[hider=In plain sight, there were signs of civilization]
[center][img]https://thumbs.worthpoint.com/wpimages/images/images1/360/0411/17/360_534bf336622c0d9b88b899965c3ff7bd.jpg[/img]
[i]Atop a small hill besides the nearby river, that strange totem stood watch. It was large and imposing, with bloodshot eyes and a mouth that was wide open and baring white teeth. It was not to not look at the thing and take it as a sort of warning.[/i][/center]
[/hider]

The totem was carved of wood, and the paint was hardly faded, so there was no question that others were near. That certainly presented them with an immediate dilemma.

[color=Gray]
A) The ogres settle where they are and pay no heed to the totem; its makers can come make themselves known in due time, but the Mol'nan will not be driven away by fear. This is their home now, and if necessary, they will fight for it.
B) The ogres actively try to find and make contact with the civilization that built that totem; perhaps a peace and some sort of agreement can be reached. There seems to be plenty of resources and space around here, after all.
C) The ogres turn around and leave for other parts; their ships should still be in the forest where they abandoned them. They could try to figure out how to sail the accursed things elsewhere, or perhaps just journey to another place on foot.
X) Other. Perhaps they come to a different consensus.
[/color]

[b]Population:[/b] 124 big boys, 125 big girls, 48 lil'uns.
[b]Livestock:[/b] None
[b]Military:[/b] Militia able to be conscripted up to 50% of adult population.
[b]Food level:[/b] Below Average
[b]Resources:[/b] None
[b]Wealth:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Trade:[/b] Nonexistent
[b]Growth:[/b] [i]Low; influenced by low food and racial traits[/i]
[b]Morale:[/b] Average
[b]Foreign relations:[/b] [i]None[/i]
[/hider]

[hr]

[hider=Meanwhile...]
"What have we here?"

A silent, monstrous minion threw its captive forward. Standing before paltry little mortals as a herald of winter and death, that ice troll might have been a terrifying sight. But here, in a black and silent rotting forest, he was out of his element. He was a skratti, a practitioner of that foul magic called Seith, and through dark rituals he had crept through another world and reemerged into this one far, far to the south. But this was [i]clearly[/i] not quite where he had intended to arrive.

The troll tried to call upon some magic, but his powers were useless here. The giant lord of this place held him in a choking grasp. For a brief moment the troll's eyes left the ground to look upon the face of his tormentor, but when he saw the bloodshot eyes, black fur, and great horns, he averted his gaze once more. "You cannot wield that magic upon me, trespasser. Your kind stole it from mine, or have you forgotten?"

Recognition crept into the troll's bewildered eyes as he realized just what godly force he stood before. He pleaded, "I'll forsake the Ice King...I'll serve you..."

"Indeed, but not in that state."

The giant lord of the forest cast the skratti onto the ground, then turned and walked away as the dead centaurs and rotting beasts tore the troll to pieces. When the screams ended a few moments later, black vines crept into the dead troll and began to animate his body.
[/hider]