Hidden 9 mos ago Post by Pyromaniacwolf
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The Lycan Covenant


Vlath had awoke from the strange dream in somewhat confused shock,what had he just experienced? A vision from the God's themselves perhaps? It had felt too real to be a mere dream, perhaps activating that obelisk had started events he could not have foreseen. What were the creatures in his vision? Deep below the sea they were, were they puppets of the Young Gods? Or fellow children of the Great Trinity of the Void? He knew not but it would be something he should address soon. As he left the area his fellow Shadowclaw had used as a resting place (naturally it was close to the first reclaimed obelisk) he ordered a handful of his more knowledgeable Shadowclaw to meet him at the shoreline at noon.

Vlath had met with Goldtooth at the very river they were to discuss some time after he had awoken from his strange
dream, Goldtooth explained there options and after a brief discussion they agreed a pontoon bridge is the best course of action for the moment. Once the bridge had been established and houses built they could consider a true bridge to allow larger loads to cross at a time, for now a pontoon would suffice- shelter must be provided as soon as possible after all. After their business was concluded, Vlath reminded Goldtooth "When the lumber is across the bridge you and your workers will begin constructing houses, for all tribes. Once that is done we will consider what else we may began construction of." with that final word Vlath made his way to meet with the other Shadowclaw members at the shoreline.

The Voidcaller had arrived some time earlier than the other four Lycan, who had arrived around noon. Vlath had watched the somewhat turbulent ocean and the stormy skies- nothing his people were not used to but it felt different now. He turned to those present and said "I have had a vision. Something lurks deep beneath the waves, I do not know what but the God's have deemed it necessary I know of their existence. I have gathered you here so we may discuss the meaning of this vision and a possible solution." and so the discussion began.
Initially there were many suggestions that the Gods meant it as a warning about the creatures in the ocean until one of the older of the group (Vera,one of the more scholarly of the Shadowclaw clan and being accused of heresy at various points in his life- he always seemed to be one step ahead the tribe in terms of both theological ideas and in his evasion of those who would silence him. Vlath was fond of him despite his borderline heretical ideas.) said the Gods would of told them of such threats before the journey and therefore such a point was moot. Eventually the debate turned to the idea that these creatures were pointed out to them by the Gods as potential allies, surely a strange suggestion but the only solution the group could fully agree upon.

After a further period of debate Vlath finally decided "If they are true creations of the Gods then surely they will know their divine tongue! Come, we shall speak to the oceans themselves!" while Vlath himself was not entirely convinced such an idea would work and he was merely offering a solution that would allow him to return to the camps and oversee construction soon, he was somewhat curious if these beings from the deep had some connection with the Gods. After all, why else would the Gods show them to him? The Shadowclaw behind him began to line up and shout into the stormy ocean in a language known by all lycan but only understood by the Shadowclaw, the proclaimed language of the Gods. As their voices wrestled with the sounds of the waves crashing onto the beach Vlath pondered if it would be beneficial to find a way to store the language in some way, after all he doubted even 100 lycans knew the language at this point.

After several minutes the group of lycans fell to silence and turned to Vlath. Assuming nothing happened he nodded at each of those present "I thank you for being here, the Gods will surely be pleased with your dedication. Now, I must return to Wolfhelm and assemble a group for my pilgrimage to the next pillar for it's reclamation." he said before beginning the walk back to Wulfhelm.

On his return Vlath immediately set about on preparing for his next pilgrimage, requesting a representative from each clan aswell as a small group of his own personal zealots-not true warriors in any sense of the word but individuals truly dedicated to the Gods. Vlath allowed the other leaders to function as they wish while he prepared and went on his journey north to reclaim the second obelisk.


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The Aedelfaari - Turn 4





The tranquility of this glen was like nothing the Aedel men had ever known before and was no doubt the key reason that none of them reached for their spears or ran for their lives in the face of the giant that seemed to rule over the forest. Indeed Eric had no doubt that there was some kind of magic afoot here that made him so calm yet found himself unable to shake its warm embrace, it was as if his head was muddled with the same warm smothering brought on by a flagon of mead.

A greater surprise would follow as the songs of Waebury actually managed to find their way to Eric and his ragged band, much to the approval of this forest giant. It was in quiet awe the Aedel men watched as the berry that had seemingly cast aside in disdain became one with the earth bloomed into a fully grown bush before their very eyes. Even though it was clear that words would never serve between these two groups there was something primal and unspoken that passed between the two groups this day. A simple understanding of each other so to speak. Eric and his brave huscarls sat upon the earth as a polite audience for the musical exchange between the stagman and the distant choir. Each time the winds shifted and the voices of his people rose to find him in glorious songs of worship Eric's heart lifted in kind. Yet he could not lose himself in this artistic exchange fully for he had seen what this strange creature was capable of and marveled at the work of this magic.

And like all men Eric wondered if it would be possible for him to claim such power for himself. If he could claim the power this creature used to will the forest to his will and to grow and weave trees together as they were here he could claim an unending supply of lumber and grow as many crops as the angels would allow. It would not do for him to take this power by force - if such a thing were even possible - the deerman had opened his house to them now and they had made peace together in a strange way. A king who wished to be remembered fondly did not turn on his allies like a barbarian and Eric would see this forest made an ally to him in this new world.

Eventually it was seen that the sun was beginning to set and all knew they would have to return before night fell. Offering a bow and words of civil thanks Eric took his leave of the strange lord of the forest and joined the bear that would lead them all out of the woods.

Back in Waebury


There was much rejoicing upon the return of the adventurous king and his band returned to Waebury and not just because Eric announced their arrival with a mighty roar of his own as he jumped for joy and grasped the hands of those he passed with a great hurrah! Behind his followed his new huscarls, each sporting a great wide grin as they embraced their families and womenfolk in the joy of returning from such a strange place with their lives.

Odder things yet would follow though. All they passed were eager to hear what had happened and kings are the kind to crave public attention, so it was not long before Eric declared a gathering on the hill he had claimed for his town center and future castle site. There he embraced their elderly priest as if they were kin and much to the shock of all around him he bowed to the old cleric, and with a bizarre mixture of energy and humility he turned and bowed upon bended knees to the gathered Aedelfaari below the hilltop.

"It was thanks to you, my brave subjects! We return triumphant because of you! It was just as I had thought, your voices flew upon the breeze as guided by the angels whose praises you sang. They found us in that lonely hour as well as the mage that claims dominion over the forest beyond our town and your voices did fill their heart with the light of Dow and the angels who watch over creation. We have made peace with our native neighbors and shall find friends in these wild places here. Each man and woman may call themselves a hero this day for each stood by their king's side as if in an army of faith this day. The better life you were promised is yours to be had!"

And a cheer went up around Waebury that night as each Aedel that called that place home would hold their head high for they had aided their king in a heroic act and the founding of their town. Though they did not have stores overflowing with food and their fine drinks were left far behind in the lands of their birth the people of Waebury made do and held a feast as only the Aedels could. One filled with raucous revelries and raised voices. Indeed the Aedelfaari did sing their songs late into the night, not just the songs of the angels that glorified their distant watchers but the sagas that glorified the heroes passed and the deeds of the Aedels they hoped to exemplify.

Then as inevitably as the tide came the morning after... and Waebury nursed its collective hangover. Except for the king of course who insisted that he would not be able to leave the longhouse, for he was busy collecting his thoughts and planning the future of their kingdom as one of his station should. Apparently Eric's thoughts required water to help their easy flow so he demanded that a well be dug.

Clearly thing king was wise, for many had noted a thirst hanging upon them after a hearty meal of smoked fish and the dwindling barrels of ale and mead after the night of frivolity. As ample as it was, no man could quench himself on sea water. So shovels were gathered and the earth was stuck in search of fresh water while idle hands were sent down to the bay to gather stones once again to form a lip for the future well and the few pieces of the long ships that had not been cannibalized for building materials were taken to make a rope so that any mother of the town might lower a bucket for water to drink, cook or clean with.

It was noted that these simple supplies were running low and it would not be long before the Aedels would have to range beyond their new home to find fresh resources.
Hidden 9 mos ago 9 mos ago Post by Kho
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The ap-Cantar





And Tilaticantar knew peace. Seated with his daughter and heir, Hiwcantar saw that. And though people continued to stream in, seeking refuge and the longed-for dream of the good life in the good place, there was now stability at last. It was not only Tilaticantar that knew peace, however - for in his heart, Hiwcantar knew it too. Peace and contentment at the thought that the town GREAT Cantar had decreed was now firmly established. It stood tall, proud, unconquerable and infallible. But the scars of the recent war, this baptism by fire, were not yet healed. The storehouse stood half-burned, the fishing fleet not properly organised, the fields far too small to support the influx of people.

And so Hiwcantar oversaw the reconstruction of the town and assigned to the new arrivals their roles. New fishing boats were constructed - calling on the expertise of every able boatbuilder, they were bigger and sturdier so that they could manoeuvre both the Tala and the sea. New fields were cleared and irrigated. And the re-erection of the storehouse was set to with zest. But the ap-Cantar had learned the dangers of one great storehouse, and so it was agreed that four smaller ones in disparate parts of the town would be better. It also meant that there was less traffic to and from any one storehouse. A watch of two was set-up to guard each storehouse against thievery or sabotage by day and night. Every six hours the watch changed, to ensure that the watchmen were always alert and well-rested.

The great town had been built on communal foundations, and so those who hunted and fished and worked the fields did not sell them, but delivered them freely to the storehouse. And wheat was taken and ground, and bread was baked. And everyday bread and meat (or fish) would be distributed that all may eat and prosper. The people of the town carried out their duties, ensuring the strength and stability of their home, and in turn that strength and stability ensured they were fed and protected. And such was the condition of early Tilaticantar.
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The Levogh - Turn 4


Célebron was intrigued, and so were his people. The fact that these guardian spirits were once human was something of a let-down, but they still commanded respect for what they are, not what they once were.
"Tell me, Kaebora, before your time is up... Where did you come from? How did you get this power? Is this the doing of some Godess?" asked Célebron. The two would converse for whatever amount of time Kaebora had left before his form was altered once again, and Célebron would ask many questions.
(C) Ask about the history, age, religion, and/or powers of Kaebora and his kind.)

As the Levogh awoke upon a new morning after the night of the full moon, many were filled with a new sense of safety and security. The spirits were not evil, that much was clear, and although there was much to learn about them still, the elves were free to go about their lives in their new home. They would be worthy of this mighty forest.
With the aid of a few builders and craftsmen, whatever rangers were left that hadn't been sent out to explore beyond the forest sought to uncover more of the ruins that the Levogh now settled in. They would leave the largest temple-like structure to last and attempt to systematically explore the ruined buildings and map out their locations. If they deemed it safe and useful, the structure would be repurposed as a dwelling or storage, or prepared to become a building of industry later on. Already the Levogh could feel the absense of a smithy, carpenter, woodworker and so on. Everyone could do basic leatherworking, but a truly skilled elf in those arts hadn't come along for many years.
Once the rest of the scouts and rangers returned, the largest and possibly more dangerous ruined buildings could be explored.

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Cyclone Trapped in the Past

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Turn 5




The Levogh



The Lycan Covenant



Attolia



The ap-Cantar



The Mustaqilun Tribe



Orr'gavol: The Hammersworn



The Aedelfaari



Oguurec Dekaan






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Hidden 9 mos ago Post by Heyitsjiwon
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When Caelis returned with his scouts, his people were amazed at the treasure that the boar spirit had led them to. It was something that he had to think about very carefully as this sudden influx of wealth would likely change the culture of the group as well. The group so far had largely been a communal people who relied on bartering for trade. Most things, they shared since survival in the steppes was a group effort. However, a currency would certainly be helpful... particularly so whenever they met with another civilization. That said, would they meet another group or a settlement anytime soon? These were hard questions and things to consider.

He ultimately came to decide that in order to facilitate some sort of economy/currency and private enterprise within the group, Caelis distributed 50 pounds of gold evenly among all the adults of the Attolians. It would give everyone some spending money so that they would no longer have to barter for things or services. In fact, that's what he had some of the more crafty elves among the Attolians start working on. He had a good portion of the tribe start turning those 50 pounds into standardized gold coins. It would hopefully lead to the birth of a small internal economy and encourage people to use their creativity and skills to start their own ventures that would benefit the Attolians, a cottage industry. The day that they met others in the world was something that they had to be ready for, and having a currency to use to trade would without a doubt be useful. The rest of the gold and jewels, would remain stowed away as a treasury for this fledgling civilization.

---

When it came to the communions, there were many disparate voices in regards to the spirits. On one side, there were those like Lady Saphira who saw these spirits in their meditations and fervently believed in them. On the other hand, Salvdal remained skeptical despite the sighting of the boar spirit and their discovery of the treasure chest. Caelis wasn't one to force others to believe in something. Thus, one night, Caelis gathered the Attolians together around the great central campfire where they all ate a communal dinner. He then began his speech:

"My fellow Attolians, our recent Communions have had some of us get in touch with the spirits that reside in these lands. While I am not one to completely worship them with blind devotion, I cannot deny that they do not exist... not after what the great boar spirit led to us."

Caelis then placed his hand on the treasure chest, which sat next to him and patted it.

"Thus, the word of both benevolent and malevolent spirits is... concerning and is an issue that should be addressed. As Salvdal mentioned, perhaps it is all a waste of time, but it pays to be careful. Thus, I ask those of you how have seen these spirits or have communicated with them, in this plane or in visions, to decide among those of you who is the most spiritually attuned to these spirits. Those who have the most innate natural abilities... I will personally ask to become shamans who communicate and placate these spirits... in essence, spiritual leaders of our community."

The Attolians began to mutter among themselves to the news. Most seemed to believe in the spirits to a certain degree, but those who were adamant in their influence in this world and had demonstrated natural spiritual ability soon stood up to walk before Caelis. In all, five of them stood with Lady Saphira taking lead. Caelis slightly bowed to them and said "We rest our trust on you to guide us through the matters of these spirits." They silently and solemnly nodded in acknowledgement.

The very next day, Caelis suddenly woke as he heard a female voice.



Here shall I prove your name
Look, that is the light that will become life

Oh music of Paul that weaves time
Eternally tell the story

Little ones that shine down in the darkness
Again follow him, and me as well

Extol the light of life with prayers
Until the day to come, let it be with you
let it be with you


Caelis stepped out of his tent to see Lady Saphira and the shamans in the middle of the camp with some rudimentary instruments. They were practicing and preparing a ritual and based on the lyrics of the song... or was it a chant? Regardless, it appeared that she was attempting to pray and appeal to the benevolent spirits so that they could keep the darker spirits away from inflicting harm upon the Attolians. Caelis found himself staring. He was certainly entranced by the song, but caught himself a few seconds after it was over. He had to go help the others make coins and supervise the camp. He came to notice that some of the elves were helping the shamans with setting up for the ritual and a festival. With the matter of the spirits being delegated to the five new shamans, Caelis hoped that the spirits would continue to look upon the Attolians with good intentions.

---

Summary:

Action: Improve Culture and Technology
Caelis designates 50 pounds of the gold to be turned into coins and distributed evenly among the Attolians while the rest of the gold is stowed away as part of the group's treasury. This will hopefully encourage Attolians to start adopting the new currency of the group and facilitate a small economy within the group.

Event: A/X
5 Spiritually attuned Attolians are chosen and asked to serve as the group's shamans in charge of Attolia's spiritual matters. They begin to put together a ritual and festival of lights to cast out the dark and invite benevolent spirits to watch over and guide the Attolians.
Hidden 9 mos ago 9 mos ago Post by Bright_Ops
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Bright_Ops The Insane Scholar

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The Mustaqilun Tribe [Turn 5]


There were lesser ways to return home than to the sound and shaking of the ground beneath you as the fury of the land itself vented unleashed its fiery, toxic rage into the distant sky; Thankfully, it seemed to be far enough away that while it was something to note and maybe try to locate sometime down the road it wasn't an imminent threat to Riverforge.

After handing some of the spoils of the hunt over to the leather workers in order to properly treat the skin to forge a banner from, placing the two collections of 'children' bones somewhere safe for later use and offering Morog's remains to to claimed by whomever gave enough of a damn, Rukdug took his time in checking up on the statues of the fortress and the improvements that had been made in his absence.

While the boar pens were of interest (and the suggestion of gathering some goats as well was quickly given the go ahead), it was the mining efforts that had caught the Hunter's interest... the presence of the 'firestones' most of all. Back in the old country, the discovery of such a find would have resulted in immediate attempts at weaponize regardless of the cost... but witnessing the connection to the volcano as well as the remains of the wolves in the caves, Rukdug decided to air on the side of caution. Since the firestones were clearly magical in nature, he sent in the shamans to investigate them properly to get a better grasp on them...

For a moment he considered experimenting with one of the Firestones, attempting to infuse it with one of the smelters to see they could be used to enhance the heat of the smelters and thus help with melting down stronger ores, but the charred bones of the wolves and the howls of the orc who had touched one of them had caused him to...lean on the side of caution. Let the crazy magic men poke and prod the things first before trying to do anything with them...

Besides, his attention was going to be elsewhere. Melting down ore was going to be important in the days to come: With the ability to produce copper, brass and bronze at hand it was time to get mining operations started! Granted it wasn't as good as iron or steel, but industry was industry and bronze was better then nothing.


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Lauder The drunk kind of hero

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Oguurec Dekaan


With her safety secured behind her royal guards, Uxu could focus on getting more food to fill those slowly dwindling stockpiles that would eventually lead to a peasant revolt. Unfortunately, a revolt of the size Uxu predicted would happen if they didn’t get food would be more than her and her merry band of guards. For a few days she went over Joz’s report of how he trained the Kooch Hor by making a bunch of goats blow up, and thinking about that, those goats would probably have made good for a herd of meat. Perhaps there were more.

Uxu summoned a Kooch Hor Mage that was on duty outside her tent, keeping her staff held up as the Mage bowed. Her order was clear and resolute, “Gets me a party of a buncha huntas will ya? I gots me an idea.” Without word the Kooch Hor Mage went to go gather a group of these goblin hunters.

When they arrived once more, a group of fifteen or so of the tribe’s hunters who had caught food for the day bowed to their Mage-Queen, probably not thinking of revolting any time soon as their were fine for the time being. “It seems to mes that we have a bit of a food shortage, it’s time to fix that. This Kooch Hor Mage will escort yous all to where he found the goats that hes blew up, I want yous to bring me back a herd of them goats. That way we cans breed em and eat em.” Uxu looked over the group for a moment, “If one of yas does remarkable I may just share my tent with ya for a night,” wanting to encourage the males to do a good job for their ruler.

Once the group of hunters went off to try and find the goats that the tribe would need, Uxu realized they would need a pin to keep these goats, which would probably very much needed simply for organizational purposes. The Mage-Queen rose from her seat and exited her tent, flanked by four of her mages, she strode to one of her friends, Stieq, who she had happened to appoint as one of the leading constructors.

“Eyy, Stieq, it’s been a while!” Uxu exclaimed with joy as she approached the goblin who stood about a foot lower than her, making him somewhat a dwarf in the goblin society.

“Eyy! It’s Uxu! Forget about it!” Stieq laughed, as he scratched the back side of his head at meeting his good friend. “What brings ya to my neck a da woods?,” he inquired, looking over at the guards who were merely laughing to each other about the shortness of the male in front of them.

“Well, I need ya to make me a pen to hold a bunch a goats. Somewhere on the outside of the camp, we’ll need it to keep em from runnin’ off after we catch him,” Uxu said pointing her staff away from the large goblin camp, a rather large explosion shaking the earth as a mushroom cloud to signify where the pen would be generally located would be. “Make sure they can’t jump out, I’m pretty sure goats like to jump, right?”

“I think so, but I’ll get right on it boss!”


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AdorableSaucer Blessed Beekeeper

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Orr'gavol: The Hammersworn - Turn 5



Summary below:


This was the first time the longhouse felt cold. The walls were as thick and tight as always - not even the whistles of the wind ran through the tar-filled cracks between the planks and stone. The coals in the central hearth glowed with heat and light as usual, yet the air was as chilling as the outdoors. Neither debate nor dispute rustled through it; merely frightened whispers dared venture out into the room. The full hall had never felt emptier. The silence remained even as Osman Slag came out from the back room. He scanned the faces of his people - they told different stories - some long, others short; some involving a family, others involving a life's work - but all had the same conclusion: Death. Osman sat down in his chair, ran a hand through his long, black beard, and cleared his throat.

"Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters. I, foreman Osman Slag of the Union of Steel, declare this meeting of Unions to be open. All mouths will speak, all ears will hear, all minds will think. Our agenda today is once again long and may very well decide the future of our people. Let us begin." Osman raised his fist in Steel Union salute. Each Union saluted back in their own way.

"I trust we have all heard Logmaster Joron Scroll's report. Against my better judgment, I let him take Kadol, Mehmel Flame and Qorr Coal to the western hills to investigate what many of us thought was but silly younglingspeak. I see now that I was in the wrong - let it be said once more: I was in the wrong. When even the world-eyes return with tales of ghosts, it is clear that we have strayed too far from reality. Our time in the mountain deep has made many of us blind to the world of the spirits - a world our ancestors knew well. While we can debate long and hard about whether we have angered the spirits, none can dispute one fact: We have forgotten them. This must change at this instant. I, foreman Osman Slag, lay the following suggestion before the council: The world-eyes movement is, from now on, banned." A sudden collective roar of fury shot out from the Union of Phosphorous and some members from nearly every other Union.

"Foreman, you are being irrational. Yes, we, too, were in the wrong and taunted our brothers and sisters needlessly even though they spoke nothing by truth - but there is no need to-" Erima Rock said desperately.

"You world-eyes often speak of others' reluctance to accept the alchemical truth. You shun those of your own who believe in all that cannot be seen with one's eyes. If spirits that can be seen exist, we must accept that spirits who cannot be seen, also may exist. Therefore, we can no longer allow the further existence of your movement," Osman replied. In the crowd, Joron Scroll and Daven Glint, representative from the Bronze Union, nodded in approval. Erima lowered her head and gestured for the rowdy world-eyes to calm down.

"Joron Scroll. Step forth. I asked you to take your wisest and discover for us the story of this Godrim Thunderhowler. Have you come to a discovery yet?"

Joron stepped forward. A pair of assistants each came bearing a small stack of copper disks, many of them green with age, and placed them down on the table. Afterwards, another pair each brought a bundle of parchment scrolls, one of them looking ripped and mouldy. Joron cleared his throat and runmaged through the documents and disks until he found the oldest disk and the oldest scroll. He gently removed the band keeping the scroll rolled neatly and calmly rolled it out, clearing his throat once more before reading:

"Mountain yonder, clad in snow; tell me why my city burns; Orr'gavol, the shadow spurns; taste for blood, eyes that glow."


Joron put the scroll down and reached for a moss-green copper disk. He rubbed it gently with a fold of his robe and began reading:

"When the Golumnara looked down and saw the Umnastarr, their hearts grew hot with fury and their minds black with rage. Disgusted with the arrogance of the Gol'ungyr, the Golumnara struck down the mountains in the west and in the north, unleashing a thousand days of ice and death upon the Valley of the Darr. Shards like tusks of beasts rained from the heavens on weary Gol'ungyr bodies, waves of snow and frost flushed through the valley like a tide - a tide fat with ravenous sharks."


Joron put down the disk. At this point, many of the dwarves around had leaned so far in they were figuratively lying on top of the tables. Osman drummed his fingers impatiently. Joron dug through the pile once again and pulled out a slightly newer, yet still rather green, disk from the pile. He brushed some dust off it and began reading:

"Popomel the First was right in his mission to undo the Umnastarr, but even the destruction of the stairway to the heavens could not soothe the fury on the Golumnar's peak. His line was snapped early for his ignorance - merely forbidding the sacrilege of surmounting Golumnar was a meagre attempt to please those ever-holy on high. Meagre, meagre, meagre. We saw, yes, we all felt the punishment of the Golumnara: A winter not only in the form of frost, but in fear. The demons came from the north and west - brought our every home to ruin. Eyes like kindling coals; tusks like spears of steel; mind set on naught but the flesh of us sinners."


Joron put down the second disk. He declared that there was one more document to present before he could share his conclusion. He picked up a final scroll, this one looking surprisingly new. He pulled the black ribbon sealing the scroll off and unrolled it.

"Six were chosen out of us; one of every folk; given axe, given shield; given all that they may wield; placed in hills, placed in caves; placed to guard us 'gainst the waves.
Hark, the horn of death is blown; one for every guard; ancestors, holy gods - give us all that we may wield; fight in hills, fight in caves; here we die against the waves.
"


Joron put down the scroll. His assistants came over and began to clean the table of the documents and disks. Joron stepped closer to the centre of the room and looked around. Half the crowd looked very confused; the other half looked to have some fear mixed in with the confusion. Joron nodded at Osman, who looked somewhat confused himself. Joron sighed and lifted his hand.

"My fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, we have studied the few texts and logs we managed to salvage after the Calamity. Our research have brought us to the harrowing conclusion that our people's history with the gruesome winters of old here in the valley of the Darr, may not only have been characterised by ice and snow. With the words of Godrim Thunderhowler as an addition to our research and the discovery of the skulls below the mountains to the west, we propose the idea that our people never fell to merely the cold - there was something else out there. This scourge that the logs and scrolls keep mentioning. This wave of death, of sharks, of demons. We cannot say for now exactly what these are, but the gods know, we must prepare ourselves. Thunderhowler's spirit spoke of 'evils of this world', and we cannot go on pretending that these do not exist. Good foreman, history's truth is that the gods are cruel in their nature, and that is the way we must see them - cruel and very, very real. Foreman, I propose we begin sacrificise of food, craftsmanship and animals to the gods, as we did in ages past. Only then-..."

"We will do no such thing, Joron Scroll," Osman retorted curtly. "Our supplies are stretched thin already, even thinner if we add the potential threat of an invasion."

"What will we do then, good foreman?" Joron pleaded. "If we do not attempt to please the gods in hopes of a lighter punishment, then we must prepare for their icy wrath."

Osman nodded. He pointed to the last of the scrolls and disks that the assistants were busy carrying back to the house of the Union of Copper.

"Runesmithing. You will take our finest scholars and you will find some way to unlock the ancient arts of runesmithing. That is sure to give us an edge in a coming conflict." Joron looked dumbfounded, uncharacteristically so. Some dwarves in the crowd began discussing whether the foreman had lost his mind, some even laughed.

"Good foreman, correct me if I heard wrong - you commanded me to uncover the secrets of runesmithing?" Joron repeated.

"And by your fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, you shall complete this mission," Osman affirmed, looking as serious as he always did, if not a little stern. Joron's brow rose in disbelief.

"Foreman, I am not certain if you understand - runesmithing has not been practiced since the time of Popomel the Second, and even then, most of the techniques of the ancient times were forgotten. Even if we had all the scrolls and logs in Gol'kharumm, we would likely never uncover anything!"

"You have been given your command, Logmaster. You shall take the Union of Phosphorous and the Union of Glass with you. Together, the three Unions will uncover the secret to saving our people. Now go." Joron Scroll of the Copper, Erima Rock of the Phosphorous Union, and Herim Ore of the Glass Union all looked equially unwilling to do as commanded, but a certain hint of curiousity glinted all their eyes. Just maybe, they thought. They said their oath aloud and left the hall with their respective unions. Osman fell back into his chair and scratched his arm. Khyber Tin of the Mithril Union stood up with some difficulty and looked at Osman.

"That was foolish, foreman. Runesmithing has been a myth for centuries, and now you set nearly a third of our people and nearly all of our greatest minds on the task of chasing a legend. I pray to the Heaven Smith and all the Forge-Saints that this produces the results you hope for. Otherwise, you have wasted the valuable time we do not have." He gave an angry grunt before he got up and left the hall, along with the rest of the Mithril Union. Osman felt beads of sweat form on his forehead. Was the stress finally getting to him? He pushed the thought away when Quana Forge stood up.

"Foreman, there is still the issue of the magnatite in the western mountains. The spirit, while bearing ill news, is a friend to our people. We can therefore finally begin mining the iron we need. However, with the snows having settled, travel there will be hard. We must plan proper, efficient routes and get that iron as soon as possible."

Osman pondered this for a second and gave an agreeing nod. "I approve of your proposal, Quana. You shall command the Union of Silver to help you plan an efficient network of paths until spring comes and we can begin constructing roads. Until then, use wooden roads and bridges where the snow gets too deep or too treacherous. Igura Water of the Union of Silver. You have heard your task. You and your union will aid Quana Forge and the Union of Steel in constructing the road to the new western mine, and by your fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, you shall complete this mission."

Igura Water, a young, fair-haired dwarf of a thin, slim build, stepped forward and courtesied in the Silver Union style. Her fingers were armoured with gold and silver rings; her neck was heavy with necklaces; her robes were wrapped in pristine pelts. "By my fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, I shall complete this mission," she repeated, flashing a grin of golden teeth, and left with Quana Forge and their Unions. The dwarves that remained looked at Osman in disbelief. Ra'ol Cave stepped forward and looked ready to give Osman a piece of his mind, but Osman was quicker.

"Ah, Ra'ol, just the dwarf I wanted to call up next. You will take your Union, along with the Unions of Earth and Bronze, and begin constructing a mountain fortress in the great cracks to the west. We must strengthen the defenses of the new iron route post-haste." Ra'ol lowered his fist, looking dumbfounded.

"Now? As winter begins? Even if we had the tools to do that, we would still be short on all kinds of supplies!" Ra'ol retorted switfly and loudly. Osman waved a dismissive hand.

"This fortress will act as an outpost for rest and warmth in the winter months to come. It will also provide protection against this new threat that may come from the west."

"But-!" Ra'ol pleaded. Osman, looking unusually vexed, waved his hand dismissively once more.

"You shall have all the resources and help you may need, Ra'ol. Now get to it. This meeting is adjourned." Osman stood up and walked into the backroom in a storm. Outside, he heard outrage and disbelief at the foreman's orders. Osman grunted quietly in pain and looked down at his arm.

He had scratched it bloody.
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The Aedelfaari - Turn 5





Slow and steady was the pace set by the Aedels of Waebury it would seem. Their shelter was basic and their food roughly won. With rugged work and blunt tools they plied the earth for easy water that would no longer see them spending half their day trekking to one stream or another just to quench the thirst brought on by the salty taste of smoked fish. This was not a glamorous way of living, nor could one say that these same people were showing a creative brand of thinking that would give them a unique effect on the world that would spawn stories and legends as of yet. The Aedelfaari were simple humans going about their simple lives as far as an outside observer would see.

Eric ap Edrin did not see things that way. Like many minor kings before him his ambition outreached his ability but his mind was still at work and it found itself hungrily awakened by the music of the forest that he had seen work impossible wonders of magic. Surely their landing here and his choosing of this landing spot was another sign of divine providence. The angels themselves had guided his eyes to this forest and the strange creature within. The lord of the forest might be a wild creature that lacked the civilized airs of men but it had heard the songs of praise in the name of the divine and welcomed them. Perhaps it had been forgotten by the faithful or raised up from beasthood by some angel of the wilds but their encounter had shown Eric that there was a chance for an alliance between them and even hope that the creature might be brought into the fold of the faithful.

Relations were already proving fruitful between the village and the forest. Quite literally as of some mornings when they would awake to offerings of fruits and nuts and rambling stories from their children claiming to have seen animals emerging from the treeline with gifts. Then the storm came. The bear that had first met them upon their arrival in the lands of Aedelfaar had become a regular sight around the outskirts of Waebury and the intelligence that lurked behind its eyes was something Eric had first seen when he had met it again in the forest. Its watching of the well's construction and the sudden arrival of the storm that had smote several trees to the ground were too close to be a coincidence. This creature was the messanger and possible right hand of the Deerman. Some were distrustful of its coming and going but for now Eric gave the animals the benefit of the doubt. They had mostly kept to themselves and behaved amicably to them since first meeting, he would not sour the waters between their peoples over a matter of paranoia.

In fact he was considering ways of making them feel more welcome. Perhaps in the form of carving plaques similar to the carvings they had seen in the trees that announced who was welcome in the forest. If their was a way for them to cement this bond properly then Eric could beseech the Deerman to share the magic he used to encourage such verdant growth so that the Aedels might use it for themselves. It made perfect sense to Eric. This way they would be able to tend their own crops and patches of forestry without the need for the forest to deplete its own holdings.

Eric was just thinking on what to do with the lumber they had gained and how best to approach this diplomatic issue when a loud issue arose in the heart of Waebury. A messenger had come running from the workmen that had been sent out to gather up the fallen trees, panting and ragged with breath.

"The bear and wolves were roaring as if for battle! They looked on us as they did to the king and bid to follow. My kinsmen did so but I do believe they head for a fight!"

This was absolutely perfect. The chance ahead of them was clear as day to Eric. If they could muster a force fast enough and join with the forces of the wild then they would have earned the respect of battle brothers. The way ahead was clear.

With his golden hair flowing in the breeze, Eric ap Edrin descended from the hilltop with his sword raised high and his voice bellowing in a demand to be heard. The Aedelfaari had come from a land that was forged in war and the Grass Dog clan from which they descended had earned its name not just for farming but for the hounds they had bred for generations to serve as companions in peace and war. Sadly none could be brought along with the immigrants that would name themselves Aedelfaar but these old loyalties would be honored this day Eric told them as the men of his kingdom would once again rally their blades to stand before the wolves that had welcomed them here and Eric himself vowed that he would display a strength that would rival a bear.

The forest of Woodhenge (as they had taken to calling it) had welcomed them into the new lands of Aedelfaar and had even fed them in these early days when their future was so uncertain. Honor demanded they offer their aid in facing whatever threat had riled up the warrior animals of the forest. "Lest we shame ourselves and our ancestors before the eyes of the angels. With blade in hand and faith in heart I shall step forward into this battle and call out to all men strong enough to raise arms to join me!" Cried Eric to those assembled.

A Mighty cheer went up in Waebury as a militia was hastily assembled. The newly name Huscarls that had followed their king into the woods were quick to join, as was their station in life now. After them followed strong armed workmen and youthful lads who thirsted for their first taste of adventure and glory. Hunting spears were taken up, along with hammers and axes, any tool that could serve as a weapon was swept up in the mad rush to meet whatever this unknown threat might be. By the time the militia was assembled and was marching for the forest it looked as if some iron hungry specter had swept through Waebury with the storm and stolen off with all that it could carry.

Arriving at the forest

The path made for them was easy enough to follow and the Aedels marched up the coastal path as swiftly as their legs would allow. When they finally found the place where their lumberjacks had followed to they did not find what Eric had expected. He had thought to find some massive animal that had stepped out of line or another animal person that was seeking to lay claim to the current lord's seat... perhaps a wolfman of some kind.

He did not expect to find the animals forming battle lines against a windswept group of angry looking sailors. Suddenly the picture was becoming clear to him. The storm the deer had summoned to knock down the gift of trees must have caught this ship unawares and wrecked them here on the shore. Eric couldn't honestly say that he might not have drawn his sword and rallied his troops as well if he found himself shipwrecked and surrounded by wolves.

Growls and howls to one side of him and battle cries and rattling sabers to the other. Yet the gutted giant of a ship that lay beyond. Once again his sense of avarice was awakened with the knowledge that today he could solidify his alliance with the forest lord and claim the remains of this ship and whatever else these sailors had in their hold for his own. Or he could have even more. These sailors were stranded here and would owe him their lives if Eric could get them out of this mess they found themselves in and his future legacy as a wise and noble king would be even further secured.

With a wave of his hand Eric set his men to forming their own battle lines mixed in with the assembled packs and lone beasts of the forest, ready should battle be joined. Yet as he stepped forward he found the noble bear and since language was beyond them he could only ask with hand movements and with his eyes for it to stay its rage for now. With their force assembled Eric stepped forward, down the slope in order to separate himself from the crowd but not so far as to be beyond their help.

Striking his most kingly pose Eric shouted across the divide between the two groups, calling to the new arrivals. "I am Eric ap Edrin! King of Aedelfaar and neighbor to these lands! It seems you have found yourselves stranded here and the lord of this forest fears you to be reavers. I bid thee, lower your weapons and speak the words of peace. Blood need not win out this day and you have my word of honor, before the watching angels of the divine that if you lay down your steel and you may yet repair your ship and find friends in our lands. Should you refuse and choose violence then know that you will found yourselves outnumbered and swept into the unforgiving sea."

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The Lycan Covenant


As Vlath stood their, half in awe of the great champion the Gods had delivered to them and half terrified of his own foolishness he turned to the remaining zealots and snapped at them "Return to the village at once! Find Vera and remove his foul tongue from his mouth and have him kept captive until my return! Tell the Bloodfangs to be on guard around the coast until the storms return in full strength! They are a blessing from the God's themselves!" after waving the zealots on with their task he turned to the great creature the Gods had placed before him. With a wail he said [color=DarkGray]"Great champion of the Gods! I beg the God's forgiveness for my foolishness! I will have myself punished for my misdeeds once the God's power is assured! Please, escort me to the final stone so I may reclaim it in their name!" assuming the void beast allowed him to continue Vlath continued his pilgrimage to the third and final stone in the hopes of keeping the threat from the deep at bay and securing the power of the Gods.


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The ap-Cantar





And when five days and five nights had passed, the ash showed no sign of abating. Soon even a big man like Hiwcantar found himself wading knee-deep in the ash, having to lift Tara onto his shoulder to prevent her from sinking in up to her chest. On his shoulder, Tara lifted a shield above her head to keep the ash at bay. The fields were buried in the stuff and the fishermen, full of fear and doubt, no longer rode the waters. Some of the smaller boats had sunk due to the weight of ash, and so Hiwcantar had ordered all boats be brought ashore and turned over. Though some brave souls were nonchalant in the face of this strange rain, covering their faces in cloth and going out to hunt and seek their livelihoods, these were but a few, and so the months spent storing food now proved a boon for there was enough food to sustain the populace for some time yet.

But not forever.

For some time Hiwcantar made his way through the ash before suddenly stopping as a violent wave of coughing and spluttering shook his frame. Tara patted his back gently and brought the wickerwork shield down to keep the ash from him. 'Keep it over your head, sweetest. Don't you worry yourself about me.' He managed, but she did not move the shield and her response was short and impassive.
'I'm alright, da.' With the coughing over, he continued onward towards the meeting house where many of the Tilaticantar elders and military men were gathered. A large number of riverfolk who enjoyed authority and status before had been, through a process of consultation, inducted into the council of elders. Those who saw Hiwcantar hailed him through the ash, and he quickly dusted himself off before entering the building. They all rose as the great chief entered, and they sat as he sat. Tara seated herself beside him, and her deep brown eyes surveyed all present.

'It is two days since last we met, and the ash yet falls and shows no sign of dying down.' The elders were silent as the chief spoke. 'Our stores sustain us yet, and though some homes have collapsed under the weight of the ash none have been harmed. I have visited the people and have ordered men who have no fear in their hearts to clear away the ash where it is dangerous - from rooftops and from entrances. I have not found enough people to clear the fields as well, and so they are buried beneath the stuff. The ash is not punishment from GREAT Cantar as some seem to think, but we will most certainly be punished for our cowardliness in the face of tribulation. Only those who dare are worthy, and only the worthy will be found deserving of GREAT Cantar's good graces. Remember these my words.' Opening his palms to those gathered, he then invited them to speak. 'I am seeking your counsel before a decision is made, so how do you advise?'
'There were three voices when last we met, Hiwcantar,' said Virimdantar, one of the chief's uncles, 'Oiqulm proposed that all the riverfolk return to their home villages and remain there, as that is the manifest will of Cantar, and that "those who came from the Great Yellow Scourge should return to it". Old Howandar suggested this is a sign that we should not sit on our laurels - the Mewaris remain and GREAT Cantar clearly wants us to depart from here and fight them one final time. That is the source of this brief discomfort. Our brother, Ingantir, called out the foolishness of those who seek to speak for GREAT Cantar when you are his word and he has said naught. And that son of Fuldondar there, in whose eye is the very same battle-crazy as shone in his father's eye, wishes to scale the distant mountains and face whatever blazing hulks may be.' Hiwcantar nodded.
'Yes, and I have thought long on what was suggested to me before. As for Olquim's notion that all riverfolk return to their villages of origin so as to regain the favour of GREAT Cantar, that is the essence of foolishness. As for old Howandar's suggestion that this ash is GREAT Cantar's sign that he wishes us to destroy the remaining Mewari utterly, I am with my uncle Ingantir - those who seek to speak for GREAT Cantar when I, his vessel, am amongst you are better off remaining silent. GREAT Cantar has not spoken and has given no sigh of anger or displeasure. He is not one who punishes without warning or reason. That this is not punishment is clear, and those who seek to speak for the god speak best by retaining their silence. There will be no return to what was before, and there will be no needless assault on the Mewaris. It may surprise the weak-hearted amongst you, but I find myself leaning towards the words of that made-eyed son of Fuldondar there. In the words of Guldandar, though he is driven by nothing other than the battle-crazy, is some wisdom. I would climb the distant mountains where these fire giants are said to dwell, and there seek communion with GREAT Cantar. His advice and guidance is best of all, and so shall all suffering be lifted from us once more.' Hiwcantar made to rise, but then the voice of Oiqulm rang out.

'You speak and promise much, Hiwcantar! You promised us before that brotherhood would bring us prosperity - it brought us war and strife! You promised that victory would bring peace and glory - it has now brought us nothing but divine fury and punishment! You promised courage that courage would bring the grace of GREAT Cantar - but were we not promised that grace aforetime? Are you not his chosen? Where are his words and assurances and promises now? Or has he abandoned you? And you promise now that you shall go and commune with GREAT Cantar and seek his guidance - but did you not promise aforetime that he guides you always and will be pleased with us forever if we are obedient and worthy? Have we been anything but?! This is the truth Hiwcantar: we tasted suffering before your coming and we have tasted it since. And so your promises are fallen flat. We have given and not been niggardly in giving, but there is only so much you can ask of us, so much suffering we can bear for empty promises and words. Leave us be, man!' And cries of anger rose up at Olquim's repugnant words, though here and there were what seemed to be murmurs of agreement.

'Why, miserable wretch!' Hiwcantar declared, and Tara turned her eyes on old Olquim and surveyed him with cool disinterest. 'Your words reveal little more than your lack of gratitude, old man. What suffering is there now compared to what was before? Have the three thrice-blessed months not been kind since our victory? Has there not been food in abundance? Why, you have known more prosperity and abundance in these thrice-blessed months than in the entirety of your miserable life - yet you dare speak of suffering and of sacrifice? You speak of my broken promises - yet what but the fulfilment of those very promises keeps you fed even now? Even now that fishermen do not fish and the fields are suffocated by ash, what feeds you, old man, but the prosperity of these bygone months? Have some shame! Why, you are one who causes the shoe to cry out, should it strike your face, "for what sin am I struck?" Away with you and your words of poison. Leave us be says he who has little power or strength! - I can leave you be, old man, in the Great Yellow Scourge or in the midst of the Sea of Souls; what use will your viper's tongue be then? If you can speak no good then say nothing, I have only so much patience - and though your tongue may be as the viper, know that mine is as the cobra snake-eater!' Olquim seemed more irritated than afraid, however, and his scowl spoke as much - but his tongue, for all the old man's scowling and huffing, remained silent. 'Then to the mountain I shall go, if none object.' And none spoke out against this, though a number looked to Hiwcantar with no small degree of astonishment and fear.

And so with the decision made that the great chief would travel to the mountains, preparations were made. Hiwcantar gathered ten of Tilaticantar's finest warriors to him, the mad-eyed Guldandar amongst them. Tara - who adamantly refused to be separated from her father - was part of the company also, despite Hiwcantar's sincere attempts to have her remain. Miksuin and Furrayn were left in charge of the great town's defence and ensuring peace and order until Hiwcantar's return. And so, their faces covered, spears and wicker shields at hand, and long cloaks trailing in the ash, they crossed the Tala and set out along it towards the Tala's source and the distant mountains north.

For their part, Furrayn and Miksuin would endeavour to keep order and, increasingly, would have their warriors - wearing their shields as wide-brimmed hats to keep the ash away and covering their faces with cloth to avoid breathing the foul stuff - venture out to the Tala and further down the river in search of fish and other river creatures for their storehouses. The ash could continue for a long time, and they had to be absolutely prepared for that. Hiwcantar's defiance in the face of the strange rain encouraged these warriors to be both brave and worthy in the face of the unknown - to live on despite the storm. And both Miksuin and Furrayn would see to it that the people came to exhibit such bravery also, for themselves, for the people, and for the good place Tilaticantar.
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Turn 6




The Levogh



The Lycan Covenant



Attolia



The ap-Cantar



The Mustaqilun Tribe



Orr'gavol: The Hammersworn



The Aedelfaari



Oguurec Dekaan






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Orr'gavol: The Hammersworn - Turn 6



Summary below:


In the mountains to the west:



Kadol reached for his forehead and wiped it clean of sweat, leaving behind a trail of rapidly melting ice crystals that had formed on his raggedy goat-wool gloves. Despite the storm carving at the stones outside the mine and the freezing air inside it, the labour kept the young dwarf warmer than any hearth could make him. His mining helmet sat crooked upon his head due to the bandage on his head - one hastily tied after he was found unconscious by the troll skull. While the trauma was minimal, it would be best to keep the small wound out of the sharp wind. He shrugged some weariness out of his shoulders and picked up his pickaxe again.

"Kadol, our son." Kadol turned his head slowly and saw Qorr Coal's broad, rounded shadow in the tunnel behind him. The dwarf crouched low under the cave ceiling and waddled over. He handed Kadol a waterskin and a loaf of bark bread. The young dwarf gave a quite mutter at the ration, but a sharp snort and a stern nod from Qorr prevented it from becoming anything more.

"How's your head, son?"

"It's really nothing. I've known worse pains, our father," Kadol affirmed.

Qorr nodded in approval. "I didn't just bring the bread, you see. Godrim Thunderhowler called for you. It seems he has taken an interest in you, son. Now, eat up and come along. He's waiting outside." Kadol raised a fair brow and gobbled the stale, boring bread up to the best of his ability. At least the waterskin held ale. He joined the larger dwarf and crawled out into the icy storm. While eyes saw no further than ten metres in this storm, Godrim's ethereal presence seemed to almost exist in a plane far more diverse than what mere eyes could see - even the blind could sense his presence. The dwarf flashed a ghostly grin of teeth, a few of whose neighbours had disappeared over the years.

"Ye're no whelp, lad, I'll give ye that. Lucky or no', that was a loooong fall - and 'ere ye're right back at work. How do you do it?"

Kadol was taken aback by the statement. It was uncertain whether it was the cold or the ghost he was talking to, but he felt his body tense up. He tried to formulate a sentence. In the meanwhile, Qorr dropped a low, "I'll leave you two be," and stepped back into the mine, pickaxe resting on his colossal right shoulder.

"Did ye freeze already? I swear, I've truly lost me concept of time..." the old ghost mumbled.

Kadol snapped to. "Of course not. I'm just a little tired, is all." The ghost waited patiently. "There is no secret. I wasn't that hurt by the fall, and so I could get back to work. Nothing much, our father." Godrim chuckled to himself. "Our father," he snickered. Kadol raised an eyebrow.

"What first made me realise ye was of me own kind was ye lot callin' me that very word. It made me realise the east never really did give up on ol' king Holek's faith in the ancestor gods. That's a relief. The days grew gray and sad in the hills when those rumours reached us, aye..." Thunderhowler's eyes turned to the storm and seemed to stare beyond the veil of snow on the wind. Kadol looked dumbfounded and stepped closer, raising his voice a little.

"No, you've misunderstood. Not even the Union of Copper believes in these... Ancestor gods. No one does. The gods -and- ancestors on the Golumnar, yes, but... It's merely a title we use out of respect for-..."

"Misunderstood, have I?" Godrim gave out an echoing cackle that Kadol could've sworn shook the mountain somewhat. "Nae, this ol' man has walked this world longer than any livin' dwarf, and I know clanspeak when I hear it." Kadol stuttered, "Clanspeak, our father?"

Godrim nodded. "Aye, laddie. Let me tell ye a bit about the Golumnar Clan..."

Back in the Hovel, in the House of the Union of Bronze:



The last of the dwarves were forcing themselves through the crack in the doorway, which door was blocked by snow. They popped into the room one by one, occasionally leaving behind strands of beard and hair hanging in the wooden splinters along the planks of the door and its doorframe. The reports of the recent affairs had just been presented, and that familiar sense of impending doom hung over the crowd like a blinding blanket, resulting in a cacophony of incoherent ramblings and arguments disguised as poor debate. Osman Slag attempted to quell the cacophony, but his words were mere puffs of air against the wall of panic in front of him. Khyber Tin was absent - the old dwarf had come down with a terrible fever in the cold. In his place was a young, bark-haired dwarf, a third of Khyber's age: the Hammermaster's assistant and personal apprentice, Roka. She looked utterly stunned at the moment, incapable of silencing the ruckus as her master could. In the end, it was Quana Forge of the Union of Steel who brought the room to silence by breaking one of the longtables in half with the strike of her gavel. She had been called back, along with a group of her unionists, for a purpose she still did not know - and she grew furious at the thought of leaving her people behind at the mercy of the Abductor.

"Be silent, you oafs!" she roared. "A little bad news and you panic like sheep before slaughter. What has happened to you all? Winter is barely here, but you've grown soft like old carrots. What happened to the skin of the Hammersworn, huh?!" She struck at the table once more. A dwarf sitting by her gave a low whimper. "Let's not forget that, no matter the harshness the gods have thrown at us, we've always persevered. Time and time again, we've stood against challenges like this one, perhaps worse than this one, and succeeded. We've-...!"

"Oh, shut up with your empty words, Quana. We've had bad winters, yes, but this Abductor is a whole new factor in the ever-decreasing chance we have for survival," Erima Rock of the Union of Phosphorous hissed. "Unless the Union of Copper has been keeping secrets from the rest of us, and they certainly have..." A collective snarl came from the Copper Union. "... We've never had to face this terror before. We've no records on how to defeat it, nor any weapons with which to do so, either. We must simply pull back all our miners and try to come up with a solution here."

"Can you not see that we need iron to -make- those weapons, Magister?" Quana snarled back and struck her hammer into a poor, splintered plank of what was once the fine table. Erima's lips carved a smirk on her aging face, and she took off her appraisal goggles, giving the glass lenses a gentle polish with the hem of her azure robe.

"But, dear sister, it appears I was wrong. The solution is right there - you'd slay the beast in but a mere strike! I mean, look at the mess you made of the table!" Quana's skin grew visibly red and her teeth could have ground gravel into sand. Osman lifted a hand, but could not say anything before Daven Glint of the Bronze Union stepped forward.

"The Magister may have a point," the grey-bearded, white-robed dwarf said. Quana would have tackled him to the ground had not her fellow Steel unionists held her back, but Daven lifted a palm of peace. "I did not mean her attitude, which, to be perfectly honest, Magister Erima Rock, is quite unbecoming of you." Erima Rock turned away with a huff. Daven continued. "I did, however, notice the strength in your blows, our daughter Quana Forge. As you all know, dear fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, the scale has tipped - and not in our favour. We all feel it; we all see it. The Duality has been off balance since the Calamity, and it is time to pull luck closer to us once more." He snapped his fingers and two other dwarves, both robed in white, came forward with a thick stack of paper held together by woolen thread, forming a coverless manuscript. They set it down on the central table, which was thankfully still intact.

"I assume that you are all familiar with our Lawscript." There came a collective sigh from the crowd. Daven chuckled. "Good. Good foreman Osman Slag, we beseech you." Osman rubbed his temples and looked up. Seeing all the eyes glaring his way made beads of sweat form on his face. He started his talking, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Yes?" he voiced. Daven nodded.

"Good foreman. As scholars and debaters of the philosophies and the laws of our people, we have come with a proposal to, if not handle, at least better reinforce ourselves against the Abductor menace. We propose a change to chapter on war and military activities in times of peace's paragraph ten." Osman groaned and waved a hand. "Which regards what?" he muttered loudly. "Regarding laws of conscription, good foreman," Daven said patiently. Osman leaned forward and rested his chin on his fists, his fat nose laying on top of his dirty knuckles like a potato on rugged soil.

"Very well. What would you like to change it to?" he finally said. Daven opened the manuscript and flipped through the pages until he reached the one he wanted. He snapped his fingers again and once of his assistants brought an inkwell and a pointy stick.

"We propose to add forced military training for all adults once every week. A day shall be chosen when no hammer strikes hot metal, but instead strikes shield and hauberk. Let every father, mother, sister and brother learn how to toss a javelin or swing an axe. We're used to banging at rocks that will never move unless we make them - we must broaden our skills and use them to better defend ourselves. Such is our proposal, foreman. What say you?" There was a long silence. Golaq Gold of the Union of Gold seized the moment and stepped forth, placing his lean, toned stature next to Daven's older, frailer one. He ran a hand through his golden beard and flashed Osman a grin of teeth engraved with beautiful markings and runes.

"Good foreman. While I absolutely agree with the Great Thinker's proposal to make us do all that running in the woods and stabbing at dummies and yadda-yadda-yadda, I must raise an important point. Halting all production for one day will severely damage production speed - which already is at an all time low for our people. Of course, defense is important, but what's there to defend if not our lives' works?" He shrugged and looked around the hall. There were occasional nods among the heads in the crowd. "I propose we find a different solution," he added. Daven nodded patiently and thanked Golaq for bringing his argument into the debate, to which Golaq smirked and bowed low, almost mockingly low, before the older dwarf.

"No, I prefer the Great Thinker's idea, Golaq. We can delay the production a little. It's not as if we have tons of ore to be worked at the moment. We can resume full scale production once the menace has been dealt with," Osman declared. Golaq, turning red with a mix of fury and embarrassment, merely straightened himself up, nodded and stomped back to his union. Daven Glint bowed before Osman and thanked him dearly. He made some corrections in the manuscript before dusting the ink with fine sand and closing the manuscript. He returned back to his union afterwards, followed by the two assistants who carried the Lawscript.

"However," Osman added, "I still agree that we must find an additional solution. Joron Scroll of the Copper Union, step forward." The old, white-bearded dwarf stepped forward and bowed before the foreman. He had a joyous look in his eyes that fit none of his usual characteristics. Osman motioned for him to speak and the Logmaster took out a newly written scroll.

"Firstly, good foreman, we would like to congratulate you. We have, indeed, found a clue about how to unlock the ancient art of runesmithing. In the long run, that may be a way to defeat the cruel Abductor. This 'sorcerer-king' may be our salvation, one to bring runesmithing back into this world and usher in our next great age. However, we must first thoroughly research the 'ice king'..."

"Ice king?" Osman inquired. "Is that some cryptic character your disks keep mentioning?" Joron cleared his throat and took out the disk from which his team and he had made their discovery. He read the verse aloud and clearly for all to hear. The reception was mixed, some nodding and cheering in approval, others getting very uncertain after hearing about the ice king's deceptive nature. Joron looked up at Osman, who seemed to be leaning more towards uncertainity.

"As I was saying, more research is required before we can trace the path of the sorcerer-king. There is, however, one more solution." Joron rolled out the scroll he had pulled forth earlier and revealed a drawing - or more specifically, a diagram of some sort of instrument. He beckoned over Erima Rock, who reluctantly shuffled over to stand by Joron's tall, skinny stature, and Roka, assistant to Khyber Tin, who had gathered herself somewhat from earlier and strode over with her head held high. She placed herself on the opposite side from Erima. Joron put the schematic down on the table in front of Osman and the foreman examined it thoroughly.

"We call it the Thunderhorn, good foreman. Modeled and shaped to produce the loudest possible sound any instrument can make, we shall use it in the same way as Godrim Thunderhowler shouts to keep the Abductor away from our miners. The Union of Mithril's mastery of craftsmanship will ensure that the schematic the Phosphorous Union in collaboration with us of the Union of Copper drafted, will be followed to the most miniscule detail. However, in order to work the metals required for it, we will need better forges and smithies - good foreman, we beseech you-..." Joron's proposal was interrupted by a guffaw from Osman. The Logmaster and his companions were left somewhat deflated, but Osman waved and wiped a tear. "No, no, I love it, Logmaster. It's just that your plan could not have fit my own any better. Quana Forge, Golaq Gold, get up here." The two dwarves stepped out from the crowd in a hurry - both looking to have calmed down from earlier fits of rage, at least enough that it wasn't visible anymore. Quana Forge raised her fist in greeting and Golaq Gold punched his fists together and bowed in Gold Union fashion.

"Your assignment, Quana and Golaq, will be to expand the smithies and improve the forges post-haste. Made the forges bigger so they can burn more brown coal at the same time - make the blowers three times bigger. The coals shall not have any shade redder than orange when burning, is that clear? We shall make the lignite smelt iron even if we'll have to blow on it with our own mouths." Quana's face lit up with joy. She gave a loud and honest salute and swore that she would complete her task post-haste; Golaq did not seem as eager, but he still swore his oath properly. Joron, Erima and Roka also appeared to be satisfied.

"We will get to preparing the materials, our father Logmaster," Roka said. She pulled her hammer out of her belt and raised it in Mithril Union salute and shouted, "Glory to the Heaven Smith and the Forge-Saints - and their blessings upon the Hammersworn." Her shout was met with cheers from the crowd. Joron and Erima both seemed pleased and gave each other a nod characterised by something that could almost be called respect. They said their oaths and walked out with their respective Unions.

The remaining dwarves debated and talked for a while before the rations were divided up and each went about their business once more. Every Hammersworn dwarf did, however, feel a charge in the air. This new threat in the west had everyone on edge - within everyone's heart lurked a prayer that spring would come sooner rather than later.
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Bright_Ops The Insane Scholar

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The Mustaqilun Tribe [Turn 6]


Rukdug sat on the 'throne' that had been made for the Warchief with a thoughtful look so deep that it was dark, the only sign of movement being that of his hand; Without even looking towards it, his fingers fiddled with the strange iron disk that was so far the only hint of an outside presence...

The fact that the item was made of iron in and of itself confirmed that there was iron somewhere in this land, as well as a people who could mine and work it. But this was just a minor distraction; A mere attempt to find some kind of bright side to a situation that seemed to be getting worse by the moment.

Fifteen orcs, just... gone. No signs of struggle, no witnesses to anything strange... it was just as if something had snapped its fingers and fifteen living, breathing orcs had ceased to exist silently while no one was looking. Wolves that no one had been able to find any evidence for apart from the burnt bones located down in the tunnels and theories spreading about how this whole turn of events came about. The suggestion that it was his decision to bring back the bones of the two child like creatures had caught his interest; He doubted it, but out of frustration and a desire to try and cross it off the list just in case, he had ended up yelling at the stupid things to knock it off if they actually were haunting them because he had plans to send people out to try and find where they originally came from and hopefully make a good first impression by returning their bones to 'em.

While his thoughts ran deep and drew most of the Warchief's attention, he occasionally focused on the matters that were being discussed around him; Orcs who didn't know what was happening who were just talking loudly, fearful orcs panicking about the disappearances... some of the craftsmen asking for permission to use the firestones once again. Even as he continued to fiddle with the iron disc, Rukdug couldn't help but feel his thoughts drift back to those bloody stones...

Only to stop playing with the disc as an idea poked its head out of the depths of his mind; He remained deathly still as he followed the thought completely, carefully investigating branching paths in order to ensure it was a sound idea without any flaws that could be uncovered with a small amount of logical thinking. The volcano had erupted around the same time as the stones were found... and tasted the blood of one of the prospectors. Before they disappeared, the shamans had thrown around the theory that the stones were of a demonic nature...

The caves of the mountains hadn't caved in on their own... Someone had intentionally sealed them in order to try and lock these things away. If the stones were demonic (and there was strong evidence that this was the case), they likely were connected to the demon that made them... a demon who's awaking was announced by the eruption of a volcano... and the people who originally sealed the caves were trying to stop it from getting stronger because some stupid outsiders had dug up the demonic stones and started feeding them blood...

Several plans rose in his mind with how to use this information... through several were quickly either discarded or simply put on hold; As much as he would had wanted to gather as many troops as he could together to go and visit the volcano to try and locate the being connected to the firestones and destroy it, Riverforge wasn't in a position where he could do that... his people weren't in a position where he could do that.

That needed to change.

Taking a deep breath, Rukdug silenced his 'court' by raising from his chair to his feet, silencing the current speakers as he looked around to see who was actually present. Spying one of the better builders and one of the more veteran miners, he quickly gestured for them to come forward as he started his announcement loud enough for all present to hear. "Ever since we unearthed those demonic, blood loving fraking gems they've been nothing but trouble. The fact that a volcano went off when we found the stupid things should have been enough of a omen, but we allowed ourselves to be blinded by the promise of power. We've paid enough for this mistake... now it's time to correct it."

"Get a couple of miners and builders together, take some guards with you and go down to the firestone tunnels... I want you to collapse them. Not just the entrance either, I want those wretched bloody gems to be crushed and shattered under a literally shrak ton of rock. Once it's done, wall the entrance to that tunnel off. Engrave a freaking warning for all I care, but I want it clear that those damn things remain buried."

He knew that there were going to be orcs who would object to his announcement to destroy and seal away the firestones. Even as they objected, he drew his sword from his side to make it clear just how serious this decision was. If anyone failed to get the hint and back down, he was going to kill them; Better to execute them now than let them undermine his authority and risk them doing something stupid like trying to unearth the firestones again. Fate would tell if he needed to spill orcish blood today... and if so, how much of it.

...........................................................

Even as teams went down to collapse the firestone tunnel, Rukdug moved on to other matters that Riverforge needed done to strengthen their position. Since the disappearances had began because of the Firestone, hopefully sealing those tunnels and making it clear that there was no intention of messing with them again would make them stop. As much as he wanted to get several things done at once, until they learned one way or the other that whatever was making them disappear wasn't doing it anymore he couldn't risk spreading out his people to work several projects at once.

Gathering all his remaining hunters together, he split them up into groups of ten and gave them a clear command. "I want you to go out there and gather us a herd of goats. The boars are a pain in the ass to tame and I want us to have a second, hopefully easier to work with source of meat and milk. Hell, having a steady supply of wool alone would be worth it. Gear up and and don't do something stupid like wander off alone."

...................................................

With orders given and the course set, Rukdug did the only thing that he could do. Taking one of the larger, more agressive boars that was selected for slaughter, he had it brought before the totem of the Rut Unuabu (Silent Skullcrusher) before having some of his militant orcs hold the boar steady as he raised a club to cave its skull in, much like the large feline beast might have attempted to do. The offering made, Rukdug respectfully knelt before the totem that he had ordered made: Designed as a banner made from the hide of the Rut Unuabu, the beast's skull sat at the top, while the crushed skulls of both the bear in its cave and Morog's own dangled from its lower arms.

In complete silence, he asked the spirit of the Rut Unuabu for insight into finding those who stalked his people so that he could stalk them in turn in the event that sealing the tunnels wasn't enough... and simply to be a better hunter in general.

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Prior to the events of the festival, Caelis sat with the several parties who had various ideas and claims to the newly domesticated cattle. Some wanted the cattle to be privatized and available to be purchased. Others believed that those who worked to domesticate them should keep them. Finally, the last voice believed that the herd should be kept as communal property. These three ideas seemed contradictory at first glance, but Caelis came to realize that there was a way to make everyone happy. They just had to wait a bit, which was something that elves were certainly capable of. They were among the most patient races in the world after all, what was waiting a year or two to an elf?

Caelis said "What we are discussing about is not finite. Nay, the cattle herd can be grown to the benefit of all. Would the wealthy of you want to spend 20 gold coins for one cow when in a year you can purchase two for the same amount of gold? Would you brothers of the woods want to deny your fellow brothers who ensured that you and your family were fed while you worked to domesticate the herd? Would those who advocate for communal ownership deny those whose merits are deserving of praise and reward? There is a simple solution to this. I ask you all to allow the herd to stay together, under no one's ownership, for two years so that it may grow. After those two year, we shall distribute the cattle much like the gold. A large portion will be given to all for private ownership, but the rest will be reserved for use by all. Thus, all I ask of you is a mere two years. Unlike us, the cattle mate much quicker and produce many offspring. In that short time span, I am sure all will be happy with the resolution."

With that meeting over, Caelis met with the horsemen once more and spoke to them. "With the herd now domesticated, we can continue our journey to more fertile lands. I ask you all to ride north and explore the area and try to find a place best for our people and our new herd. May the spirits guide and protect you."

---

Caelis stood with awe at the sight of the shady and sinewy figures of spirits that had appeared before them. Before, they were blessed by the presence of the animal spirits who now protected them, but now these strange figures had appeared. Were they truly ancestors? Or were they malicious spirits, luring the Attolians into a false sense of comfort and familiarity? He couldn't tell, but Caelis bet that the animal spirits would be able to tell if these spirits were malicious or not. Thus, to draw the attention of the spirits and away from Lady Saphira, Caelis loudly called out and bowed "Welcome! Esteemed guests! Please, come and join us in our feast!" as he held his arms openly out and indicated towards the plentiful feast that they had for this festival.

With that, Caelis began to look around for the animal spirits and silently prayed that they would come and guide him through this confusing and uncertain time.

---

Summary:
Events:

1. The Elves are asked to wait a mere two years to allow the herd to grow and breed, which will then partially given to individuals for private ownership while the rest will be kept communally just like the gold. After all, to an elf, what's a short two years of waiting when for the cattle, two years is a lot of time to mate and breed unlike Elves?

2. Caelis attempts to draw attention from the spirits and buy time to see how the animal spirits act. He prays that the guardian animal spirits would help them if they were malicious spirits, but if they are not, then the spirits would be allowed to properly join the festival and feast as esteemed guests.

Action:

Caelis asks the horsemen to take the horses once more and to go scout/explore the north for a proper place for the Attolians to begin settling now that the herd is domesticated.

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Oguurec Dekaan


It was a nice morning, the air was crisp and the goats were silenced for once, though that probably just meant that they were going deaf which was not too much of problem since they were just food for the goblin that inhabited the valley. However, there were barely anything that could be called homes, mostly still tents which housed many of the goblins while a few had what functioned as little shanty houses. Not because of their own laziness, but because of disputes between goblin families often ending in an explosive duel which would cause much collateral damage and set back many construction efforts by individual families. This was not something that was often thought about since it was just a way of life for these blue-skins, but someone had made the mistake of catching the tent of Uxu Amberheart, tearing it asunder and leaving her scorched and blackened. Nevertheless she was heavily angered over this, demanding the culprits of the duel be brought to her so that she may exact revenge.

Revenge she wrought from the two, conjuring an explosion massive enough to send the two back to their own tents without having to worry about the traffic of other goblins or the twists and turns of the tent-town. Granted there was still the problem of the duels that Uxu would have to further deal with. For many hours she consulted with her close friends and the her Kooch Hor mages about a solution to this problem, yet her consultants had nothing to offer as disagreements flared during the meeting and led to even further violence, which Uxu dealt with simply and deliberately.

It was at the dawn of the next day that she sent for someone to fetch her some mud-tablets so that she may write into effect, a new law to govern their society and allow them to actually build permanent homes for once in their lives. Upon the tablet was written so, the Dueling Law

Daan Drol'dec Kal

-There shan't be any gits who duel in a heavily populated settlement under the control of the Mage-leader with explosive magic or anything that may cause heavy collateral damage. Even if it is more fun with heavy destruction.
-Any git who violates this law shall be punished with cleaning the goat pin and being blown sky high to the goat pin.
-Any git who dares question this law will politely be blown back to their home by the Kooch Hor.
-If a git causes damage to my home again then you best be ready for what happens next.
-All of ya are dumb gits, take your duels somewhere else.
-Don't scare the goats.
-Lunch rations this week will be goat meet with grass and tree bark, please consult ya neighborhood cook if ya have any special requests. Wait don't write that last one down.




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The Aedelfaari - Turn 6






Events were spiraling out of Eric's control with each passing moment. He only had short amount of time to take in the chaotic scene that was unfolding before him and to try and make sense of all of it. This would prove to be a challenge in its own right for this day would confront Eric with an array of things for him to discover for the first time. The most shocking among them possibly being the tree that walked. Over the past few days Eric had congratulated himself over taking the strange encounter with the Deerman in stride and turning it to the advantage of his kingdom, now he saw that there was so much more for him to learn about this forest and just how over his head he had found himself. He could only thank the angels above for granting him enough wisdom and humility to offer the hand of peace to these creatures and to make of them an ally.

It was a shame the same could not be so easily done for these new comers but perhaps that was for the best. For these were no windswept traders or explorers but self proclaimed reavers! Any pans of peace talks or desperate measures to deescalate this matter faded from Eric's mind. For one could never have peace with corsairs and raiders. As a man descended from such types himself Eric knew this better than anyone. To scavengers and honorless hounds such as these safety could only be bought through tribute, for to give a pirate and inch was to give them a mile.

This was not just luck, this was an act of divine providence proving to Eric yet again that the angels had guided them here to meet the lord of this forest who had wrecked these bandits of the waves so that the Aedels could meet them with an advantage before falling prey to their vile appetites. With his heart steeled for what was to come Eric could look upon the shifting battle lines with a calm eye and take in his foe and troops with a leader's eye. The Aedels outnumbered the pirates two-to-one and that was before he counted the writhing army of wolves and bears that was amassing by their side. He had no doubt these pirates were a hardy band but they would be hard pressed to beat such odds.

Yet these strange weapons they menaced at the tree line were reason for him to pause. Eric had never seen such strange inventions but they seemed to embolden the pirates more than simple clubs should. The worst of all being this tube of iron that was being shoved to the edge of the ship by the repulsive troll that was hailed as their leader. Eric had to assume there was some arcane magic at work within if they were confident that it would allow them to do battle with the oaken giant that had emerged from the woods to throw one of their crew as if he were a skipping stone on a pond. Ad still through all of this the lord of Woodhenge whose music had once acted in defence of the woods and had summoned the storms that had brought this about. Surely if he could be reached then the winds and storms could come to their aid again or something to that effect!

"So be it." Intones Eric in all solemnity as turned from the sailors gathered below him to swiftly rejoin the ranks of his men and animal allies.

It was with an agitated stride that he found the bear that had so often acted as a mediator between the two groups. "I know not if you can truly understand me, but you seem a knowledgeable fellow so I can only hope my point is clear enough. Send your birds! Send your birds and your fastest climbers to those on the ship. Their weapon will kill your champion, we must stop them until we can reach the ship." And like a mad man Eric went on to wave his hands back and forth between the trees and the beached ship, the red skinned troll in particular. Upon mentioning their champion he spared on wave of his hand for the walking oak tree but only once in case he confused the message.

There was only a short amount of time left to him to explain, as both forces were becoming impatient and readying themselves for the attack. The time for grand plans was done. Eric had time left for one last gambit. He had no doubt that the forest lord had heard the mighty roar of his tree champion and had still been silent but he could still hope that if he sounded off a war horn of his own then the deer would know that his ally had joined the battle and would respond with a stirring war song of their own.

And thus did Eric ap Edrin, King of Aedelfaar, raised his sword to the heavens and a horn to his lips.

AAAAAHHHHUUUU! AAAAHHHUU AAHHUU!

"CHAAAAARGE!" Rang out the cry of the king and a wordless battle cry rose up around him as the Aedel men waved their weapons with vigorous intent. "For Aedelfaar and the Angels!"

And like a stampeding horde the Aedels ran from the treeline, weapons held high and numbers mixed up with packs of wolves and charging bears. As they ran Eric let his voice roar until he was hoarse, all the while he waved with his short sword to usher his men on and to see them spread out where their greater numbers would show their worth. For if they were to range further to the sides (much like the wolves that ran at their sides) then any archers hidden among the pirates would have a harder time finding targets. Better yet, once the two groups met the Aedels who spread furthest could lap around the sides of the smaller line, leaving the brigands to fight on two fronts.

Eric could only hope his message for the birds had gotten through to the bear. Until then he ran among his men, raising the war call and readying his sword arm.

Back in Waebury


The people of Waebury were not deaf to the growing confrontation if nothing else. The roars of the unseen tree monster reached them in their humble huts and the shrill cry of Eric's horn soon followed it. All while the shouts of the assembled men and beasts carried across the small field like a distant rumble. The Aedel women and children were not strangers to the sights and sounds of war but these strange sounds that came out of the forest each day were enough to put even the sternest soul on edge.

As one of the learned men of the town and self made pillars of the community alongside Eric it was the place of Priest Ecgberht to find a way to busy the dread filled minds of his flock in this dark time. In rough-spun robes he walked out among the people, his shaved head and beak like nose making him look very much the stern servant of the angels.

"Come now, are we to be found cowering and mewling away when our men return? We have not been made so weak by the shrinking of our clan as to be made useless I think. Remember the words of the Elder Angel Sauriel; Dow hast given thee hands so that you might work, and Dow hast given thee a world rich with pieces to be turned to purpose. To lose ourselves to worry is to squander the tools given to us by Dow and their angels so that we might forge our freedoms through our own strengths. So I say to you brave Aedel women to remember your hands and to put yourselves and your children to work so that their victorious fathers might return to a proper welcome."

And so it was with a heavy hearted energy that the women of Waebury went to work. Fresh water was taken from the well and ragged clothing was torn into strips so that it might be washed as the water boiled to ready bandages for the wounded. There was some talk of fetching fresh supplies, since much of the medicines the wise women had brought had either been used or spoiled on the voyage over. In the end it was agreed that some of the women would brave the forest edge to gather tree barks and plants that would be of use in making poultices and mixtures that would ease the coming pain.

These brave mothers would bring their sons who had been too young to go with the king to battle so that their energy could be put to work and they might act as escorts as a man should. It was agreed by the village elders that such peoples would seem less threatening to the spirit of the forest and might be welcomed by it in this troubled time. Stories had spread how it had heard Eric's voice when he had spoken to it plainly from afar and had been pleased by their songs praising the angels. So they would go protected in faith it was said and would make sure to speak their intentions clear before entering the forest and to softly speak the prayers of their people so as not to disturb the woods while still garnering the favor of the all hearing divine.

Such it was that Waebury did not wait still in dread as her people hoped for the best.
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Mol'nan Tribe - Turn 6(1)


So it was, that man and elf met ogre.

So it was that battle broke out.

And so it was was peace was made and trade established. And for many decades little else but trade was their interaction with ogres. These decades were many, near becoming centuries, but nothing lasts forever.

In the wake of a war between this empire of man and elf, The Empire of Gilden, against one calling himself the dark lord, fear spread along the empire's borders. Fear towards anything not human or elf. This fear gave way to actions that bread hate and revulsion. Soon many ogre kin went missing, though in our blindness and ignorance we did not know the cause and did not suspect the empire. It wasn't until some seasons later that they were found, but...

We were given the choice, either lose our captured kin's lives and fight to the end, or leave our lands... our homes. Upon learning that they were ready and willing to end our way of life, we chose the only path we could.

Survival.

And so it was that we were lead and loaded aboard great, wide, wooden vessels on which we all fell into a deep slumber...




It was dark and stormy as they woke, the only light coming from what little sunshine made it through the storm clouds. The ogres were shaken to consciousness when the enchantment of the boats wore off just as they beached. Once the grogginess of such a deep sleep went away, they looked around to find many of their number were not here. There were many boats that they were loaded onto, and it seemed that a lot of them had gone missing.

Once all were ashore, the decision was soon made to head further inland, dragging what boats they could behind them. It wasn't until they reached the base of some mountains and found a spot next to a small river that they stopped. Thankfully the storms had stopped.
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The Lycan Covenant


Vlath returned to the village with great haste,flanked by the two void champions on his return he shouted to all near by "Brothers and Sisters! The Gods have gifted upon us their champions today! Not only this but they have gifted us with purpose! Know that even now our Gods fight a foe deep beneath the waves to defend us while we settle on this new land! In their mercy not only have they provided us with these great defenders and the storms to hold off the beasts below but they have informed me of the enemy on the land!The We must find these vile creatures and eradicate them! We have already claimed their obelisks from their pathetic gods but next we will take their land and their lives in the name of the TRUE Gods! All of those who would wish to fight these foul heathens must seek out Grash Bloodfang and prepare to train under him until he deems you are prepared for the coming battle! The Silentpaws will seek them out and any resources that may be of worth to us so that the Goldtooth may bend it to our will! They will search farther and harder! Every week I decree a scouting party must be sent out until this foe is found! Once they are located they shall return and our glorious crusade shall begin!" Vlath spoke to all who would listen in the village, ensuring the Silentpaws were prepared for the long scouting missions and ordering the Goldtooths to begin producing what weapons they could from the lumber-whether that be clubs for Bloodfang or javelins for Silentpaw the Covenant would have weapons ready for war soon.

Vlath then began to seek out Vera and those who had captured him,assuming he did and his zealots had not done it already, Vlath would personally rip the heretics tongue out before proceeding to hear anything fro his zealots.


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