The leaders were gathered. Five chosen now represented the different subgroups within the Accord. Fritz, a tall and quite muscular humanoid with a doberman's looks, spoke for the canines. Barry, a badger-shaped man with round and robust features spoke for the mustelids. Toros, the largest of the five and the least talkative figure might as well has been taken straight out of the greek mythos, as he had features of an ox with horns and all. He spoke for the herbivores that were still here and decided to stay with the accord. Mica was a fox-like being, and represented a mixture of different species of furfolk that mostly classified as omnivores, but didn't share much of a special family tree. Mica was the one to call this meeting so early after the forming of the Accord. Last to arrive was Riss, a fluffy-looking feline humanoid with long whiskers and ears. As she sat down at the worn table, the meeting came to order.
"Well then..." said Fritz. "I suppose it's time we agree upon what path to walk." Mica gave a fangless grin. "Agreed! How exciting, the first thing we'll ever agree upon! Other than the accords, I mean..."
And so the gathering commenced, to decide the future of the Voren Accord . . .
Race: Furfolk About 50% carnivores, 40% omnivores and 10% herbivores.
Subgroup: Mostly comprised of carnivores and omnivores.
Capital: Camp Voren
Ruler: A small "council" of 5 representatives from the subgroups making up the accord.
Type of Government: Loose representative democracy.
Religion: None... yet.
Geographical Location:
History: The carnivores, herbivores and omnivores always fought each other for the land they inhabited. This small piece of safe, green land slowly became stained red by their conflicts. As the Haven's overlords came to collect tax from the individual groups, they noted that fewer and fewer of these furfolk of the north remained. They also noted that less tax was able to be claimed due to the in-fighting. An ultimatum was given to the three groups; get along or be driven out. Driven out would surely mean death, for nothing could grow in the wastelands.
The leaders of the three factions met in the no man's land that had been created between their respective territories, and treated. The negotiations were harsh and hostile. Eventually, the herbivores, whose numbers were almost equal that of the carnivores and omnivores combined, were fed up. They refused to come to an agreement with their sworn enemies and competitors, and simply left. They migrated elsewhere in the haven-zone as to not incur the Overlords' wrath.
Suddenly left with far fewer mouths to feed and a large plot of land ready to be claimed, the carnivores and omnivores soon came to an agreement that they would co-exist and prosper together. The terms were set, agreed upon, and finalized as the Voren Accord. A few herbivores still remain in the accord, but saw it fit to agree to the accord. Of the previous dozen of subgroups that fought over this part of the zone, 5 subgroups remain.
@Nate1008 I added some icons on the map to show you where the statues are.
@AdorableSaucer I added Dougsdahl on the western slopes of the mountain. I assumed that's where it was? Also, if you object to anything I wrote when describing the small hamlet let me know!
As Lord Silverpine drew the energies from the stone, he felt a strange presence. He could feel the magic flow into him, and it was powerful. It made him feel like everything he could do was bolstered. It was not a large increment in power, but an increment nonetheless. However, he felt it waning slowly. This boost seemed… Temporary, at best. As he feasted on the magic one bit a time, he held it within him and tasted it. He tried to use it, to mold it and wield it, but it wouldn’t let him do whatever he wished. It was almost as if it was specifically attaching itself to whatever affinity he already had and boosted it, rather than allow him use of some new sort of power.
But that can’t be it. Lord Silverpine knew. He could feel it, the magic within the crystal should be bendable to his will… But it just wouldn’t. As if someone held him back by the wrists, keeping his hands just out of reach from whatever he attempted to grasp. He could feel the crystal being drained of the energy it had stored up, and he realized the crystal’s power was finite. As that thought ran through his mind, something else grew within him. The room suddenly darkened. All sounds, scents and visual impressions faded around him. It was as if he sat not in his chair, but floated aimlessly through a void. ”Where … What?” he muttered as he looked around. This sensation was something he had never felt before, yet something so familiar gnawed at him in the back of his mind. It filled him with a sense of … dread.
”So. I have company at last.” lord Silverpine heard a voice say. It came from nowhere and everywhere within the void. ”Who’s there? Show yourself.” he commanded. Silence responded. Then, after a few long seconds, the voice returned. ”I’ve been alone here for so long… I almost forgot there were others.” the voice said. It spoke slowly, with a deep inhumane voice. Silverpine couldn’t tell if it was a man’s voice, a woman’s voice, or neither. If it was a beast or a humanoid, he couldn’t tell either. He couldn’t even tell what language it spoke. Yet he understood it, like a clear thought in his mind. ”I command you to reveal yourself!” Silverpine boomed into the void. Yet again he was met with silence for many agonizingly long seconds. ”I cannot.” said the voice. ”I am… Imprisoned. Locked away beneath the earth.” Silverpine tried to stand up, but even if he felt himself move as if standing up from his chair, he was still in the void. He couldn’t feel the chair, or the ground. ”The Moonstones… They hold great power. But it is finite.” the voice continued. ”I could only reach out for so long. Find me, and I will tell you all. We are alike, you and I… Trust your senses and you will find me. South. Beneath the earth. Find me.”
Suddenly Silverpine was back in his office. He was standing up in front of his chair, like he had intended to. The stone lingered in his hand, still storing most of its power that he hadn’t drawn out. The magic within him that he had absorbed was still within him, merging with his own energies. It would wane slowly, but still it would last him a week or so, he thought. But… should he even tap into these? Clearly, some other being has already occupied them. At least… This one. Perhaps tapping into it was dangerous. Yet the being who spoke to him had something familiar about it. The choice was his to keep it to absorb more of it later, or absorb all of it now to grow more powerful for a longer period. The thought also came to his mind that he should test out his strength.
-
"Mi'lord silverpine." a servant knocked on the door and bowed his head low. "Yes?" responded Jasper, not looking up from his desk. "We've successfully captured some freeroaming animals. We found boar in the forest and to the north by the mountainslopes we caught some goats." Lord Silverpine frowned and glanced up at the servant. "And?" "Well, uh... the herders say they're sickly." said the servant. He twirled his fingers nervously together. "Then go get new ones, you oaf." Silverpine snapped. The servant squirmed. "Well, I... They're all sickly, mi'lord." he said, looking down at his feet. "Some say the lands are cursed. The animals are sickly and frail... We can herd them, of course, but... their yield is not like we're used to." finished the servant, afraid of Lord Silverpine's wrath. Jasper leaned back in his chair, pausing from his work. He knew there was a choice he had to make here. If he let the herders continue with both animals, they'd recover slowly and the settlement's initial growth would surely suffer. However they would still have twice the animals, and perhaps later on both pig and goat could yield what they're supposed to. If instead they chose to abandon one of the animals and focus on the other, surely their recovery would be quicker. They could always return for the other animal later and domesticate it.
Would Jasper decide on one animal, or keep both?
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 1030 Livestock: - Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Low (Improving) Resources:
Timber
Stone (basalt)
Furs
Wealth: - Trade: - Growth: +3% Base: 3%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level. Morale: 76% (People fear your rule.) Foreign relations: N/A
Any merchant would know, the wealth of any settlement or even kingdom depended on trade. More trade, more tariffs. More goods, more gold. And the queen would always collect her due. Additionally, any sailor would know the worth of any coastal settlement depended on it’s docks. To establish a proper trade route, Deepcrest would need sizeable docks.
The Lord-Trader, of course, knew this. The makeshift docks were being reinforced and refurbished daily, and before long after their arrival on these shores the elves could send out fishing vessels. Not that they had many, but they at least had plenty of room to dock and drop off their catch. The docks quickly became the busiest place in the settlement, as expected by the sea-faring elves.
The Lord-Trader was for one short moment not swamped with work. In fact, she had deliberately chose to take a pause from her work to ease her mind, as she knew stress would only lessen her productivity no matter how much work she had to do. Walking around the settlement, Haelee observed a young elfling running errands. As he was accompanied by a servant, she recognized the boy as Alni, the son of the very architect of the docks. Alni stopped in his tracks as he noticed the Lord-Trader. He nervously straightened himself and bowed deeply to show the respect she is owed. She offered him a simple nod, and he ran off. It wasn’t uncommon for the sons and daughters of lords and nobles to be running errands for their family. Everyone was expected to pull their weight in whatever way they could.
Yet… Here was one who seemed not to be pulling his weight. An older elf, dressed in commoner’s clothes yet wearing an ornate hooded cloak. He was gazing out into sea, his back turned against the Lord-Trader. She walked up to him, annoyed with him instantaneously. How dare he slack off when there was so much to do? As she came closer with her guard, the old elf turned to her, and their eyes met. Haelee stopped in her tracks. Her guards blinked, uneased by their mistress’ reaction to this elf. They knew not every elf of the expedition, but the Lord-Trader sure did.
And this elf was not part of the expedition.
”Who are you?” the Lord-Trader demanded of the stranger. ”Ah. You are sharp.” the old elf responded, not answering her question. ”I am the Lord-Trader Haelee Hune, and Deepcrest is under my rule. You will tell me who you are this instant.” The old elf beckoned her closer with a wave of his hand, then turned back out to sea. Haelee grimaced, but obliged. Her guard followed close behind, their hands on the hilt of their swords. The old man kept staring out to sea. They were still close to the docks, so it was not like this was a secluded spot where one could absent-mindedly gaze into the horizon. ”I won’t ask you again.” Haelee warned him. ”Yes, yes… All in due time.” the old elf said. ”Hear me out, first.” ”I have no time for your games, old one.” ”Oh please, humour an old elf, would you?” ”Fine. Speak then, before my patience wears thin.” ”So quick to lash out… Do I truly scare you that much? Then again, I suppose you would know every single elf on your expedition.” the old man said, ending with a sigh. ”Did you hand-pick each and every one of them, I wonder?” The Lord-Trader shifted uncomfortably, glancing narrowly at the old elf. It bothered her greatly that she did not know who this was, and even more now that he admitted to not being part of the expedition. Was he a spy sent by the queen to keep an eye on her? If so, why reveal himself already? Had they incurred the queen’s wrath somehow? ”Don’t worry. I am no spy. I am no enemy of yours. I’ve lived here for… Oh, gods know how many years. I first came here at the first sign of the moon’s cataclysm.” the old elf said. Haelee turned to face him. Was he serious? Could it be? ”Before you ask… No, I don’t know any other elves in these lands. Then again, I haven’t been everywhere.” Haelee blinked. ”The moon shattered a hundred years ago. Yet you speak as if you’ve been here for longer.” she said, narrowing her eyes at the old elf. He nodded. ”Oh, yes of course. The shattering itself was… Well, recent in elven years. Bare moments in the eyes of history. Yet the signs of calamity have been there for so much longer…” ”What are you talking about, old one?” ”I’m saying I predicted the shattering of the moon a long time ago.” the old elf stated firmly, and turned to Haelee. His fixed his eyes on her, an intense stare piercing through her. ”Yet no one would listen. No King or Queen of any land, friendly or hostile. No beast, human, elf, dwarf or other creature would listen. Who could believe the very cosmos were telling us of this event for thousands of years?” he spoke with a firm voice. He reached out and grabbed hold of the Lord-Trader with both his hands. He took hold of her upper arms by the sleeves of her tunic as Haelee’s guards moved quickly to stop him. They grabbed his wrists and arms and tried to restrain him, but the Lord-Trader stopped them. ”No. Let him be. Let him finish his tale.” The guards obeyed, wordlessly. ”Ah… Forgive me.” the old elf said. ”It’s been so long since I were in the company of my own kind…” Haelee stood unphased. ”Continue.” she commanded. ”It is easier if I show you. Come see me in my home in two nights. I live in the forest, east of here. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you find me.” the old elf said, his face relaxing and his stare easing up from the intense glare he had moments ago. ”Two nights? What is this nonsense?” Haelee objected. ”I cannot show you now. In two nights, the constellations will be in position. I will show you the signs, my evidence, if you will.”
Even if this old elf seemed crazy or senile, Haelee couldn’t help but feel like there was much wisdom and truth to his words. She did not trust him, nor had she any intent of playing into some game of his, but he was not part of the expedition, and as such must have come here some other way. How? Why? What of the moon? Did he really know what would happen before it did? There were too many questions.
”Fine. Two nights. I will not come alone.” said the Lord-Trader. ”Very good. The more, the merrier. Besides, if you bring some witnesses it’d be easier for your people to believe you. What I will show you will shake you to your core.” the old elf said, and began slowly walking east, into the forest.
Haelee observed him until she could no longer see him. Something seemed strange about this… hermit. As he disappeared into the dark of the trees, Haelee turned around, walking with decisive steps back to her study.
There was work to be done.
[Docks have been improved. Fishing resource improved.]
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 765 Livestock: - Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Average Resources:
Timber
Copper (Not mined yet)
Furs
Wealth: - Trade: - Growth: +2% Base: 2%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level. Morale: 100% Foreign relations: N/A
A watch was set over the discarded boats that had been discovered. Rather than just one or two youths, there was a linguist, a small guard of marines should the natives come with hostile intent, three lookouts, another man of upper standing to keep the linguist company and conversation, and so on... The party sat in the shade of the trees near to the boats, and kept watch. Nominally. Throughout the entirety of that next day, they neither heard nor witnessed any natives nor signs of disturbance. Perhaps that was to be expected, some of them wagered; if all of these boats had been broken and rendered unusable, perhaps this was a mitten or refuse pile, and one would not expect a people to wallow about in their own trash like swine. In either case, when the sun began to set, they of course returned back to the camp so as to enjoy the full comforts of the Expedition, and their droll report of the monotonous day was hardly inspiring.
One group wandered a bit further into the jungle, though; they were the ones who found wonders. Overgrown by the moss and vines that favored this tropical clime, there were paved trails and stone stairs hewn into the sides of the gently rolling hills.
In some places there were statues, too! Some were great and powerful, standing upright and approaching four times the height of a man. It must have taken a great deal of skill and labor to sculpt and then move such works. The statues were invariably of people, and they had an odd set of features. Each statue had what seemed to be a disproportionately large head, with a large and long nose and a great protruding brow, a strong jawline, flat ears, and hardly anything for a neck. The statues were hewed from lifeless grey rocks; limestone or granite, perhaps. The eyes were painted a staunch white, though, and it was that bright and contrasting color that first drew let the men spot out the statues from afar. With pursed lips and narrowed eyes, most of them seemed to have regal and commanding, if aloof, airs about them. The statues also had strange hats, carved as a separate piece from a more reddish stone, somehow balanced atop their heads. Perhaps those were a savage people’s cruder version of a crown, meant to signify some sort of authority?
In their excitement to return, the men reported that one among their number had tripped over a large stone. To their surprise, the men had looked the rock over more closely and realized that it had been shaped, and that it was a fragment of a similar statue that had been toppled and shattered. They looked through some nearby stones and pieces and with a start realized that they did not fit together right, and that it had to have been the fragments of at least two or three statues all strewn about the ground there. That, combined with the broken boats, certainly were filling the men’s imaginations with the idea of a fickle and temperamental, or outright violent, breed of creature that peopled this island. Who knew how many other shattered statues might hide beneath the wild undergrowth?
Just before the crack of dawn came, those men set to watch the boats and those that had explored the jungle and found the statues left camp the latter group obviously a great deal more excited than the first. But both were dumbstruck when the rising sun illuminated a nearby ridge, within perfect and unbroken sight of the camp. Upon the ridge, a good space apart from one another, there stood two massive statues that had most certainly not been there the day before, gazing over the encampment and landing site. The night’s watch were even more bewildered than anybody else; they reported having had an uneventful shift in which they’d seen nor heard nothing in the dark. The men cautiously drew closer to the new statues to investigate, and saw that these were not as grand as some that were previously seen in the jungle. Still larger than life, these were only two or three men tall, and they had no hats crowning their heads. In fact, the explorers from the day past noted that they were strikingly different. With noticeably smaller (but still artistically emphasized) heads and differently shaped features, they resembled a man of Parva much more closely than anything in the jungle had. These statues had clothes upon them, too. One was in the style of a marine, the other garbed as a mere worker.
But all of that made the whole scenario even more bewildering; if they had been designed so carefully to imitate the appearance of the Expedition’s folk, then logic dictated that the statues could not have simply been relocated and would have instead been carved (From scratch, too! These things looked as though they’d take highly skilled artisans and weeks, if not months or years, to raise!) within the past few days, for how could the natives have known what a man of Parva looked like before the expedition had landed? And on that note, it seemed that the natives were already very aware of the expedition’s presence, and that they had watched the men undetected and from close enough to make out their faces and general appearance!
More notable than anything else was that whilst the first statues they’d encountered had their arms simply hanging down by their sides, or crossed, these had their arms pressed against their chests to brandish objects. In the marine’s hands there was held a massive axe (carved entirely from stone, and of the same piece as the rest of the statue) with the tip of its haft reaching close to the statue’s knees, and the head of the thing almost reaching up its chin; there was a wild look to that statue’s eyes, and its nose and lips contorted into a snarl. It seemed that the marines’ bearings had been enough for the natives to recognize them as a martial class, even if they’d taken liberties in depicting this one as bearing a barbaric axe in place of proper weaponry. As in for the other statue, that of the worker, it had some cylindrical thing that was presumably a flute, with one end pressed to its lips, eyes closed, and a happy and serene countenance. Each statue stood attached to its own plinth, but the stone slabs jutted forward enough that there was room for a few objects to be placed at their feet. Beneath the marine were what seemed to be a few perfectly smoothed war-clubs, ornamented with bits of shell and bands of separate wood and carved with a few pictures of the local fauna and the great mountain. At the worker’s plinth there rested a bowl filled with some local citrus fruit and berries.
There were no tracks or obvious markings in the grass as to where the statues came from or how they’d been put into place overnight; it was as if they’d just coalesced from mist. Presumably they’d have been carried out from the dense growth of the nearby jungle? They certainly hadn’t been sculpted on site, as there were no huge chunks of rock cut out from that ridge and sculpted.
The entire expedition was set on edge; it was like the hills and trees had eyes. They were all certainly being watched. The natives knew of their presence, and had made sure to show as much in no uncertain way, yet still they had not deigned to reveal themselves directly. Nobody knew what to make of that, or of the statues themselves.
For whatever it was worth, in their quest to improve the land and enrich themselves, some men had found groves of citrus trees near the edge of the jungle and began clearing away the excess undergrowth and even planting some seeds from the delicious fruits where there was space. This was only the beginnings of a proper plantation that would make the fullest use of that plot of land, of course, but it was still a proper harvesting site and a good start towards enhancing their food supply.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 1020 Livestock: - None. Military: Small corps of trained marines. Militia able to be conscripted up to around 30% of population. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Below Average Resources:
Timber (with rare hardwoods; currently harvested in small quantities)
Fish (large quantity; currently harvested in small quantities)
Bananas and citrus fruits (large quantity in the wild; currently harvested in medium amounts and some cultivated in small groves)
Hardly anything of value was found inside of the abandoned village. The cellars and larders had been completely emptied of foodstores, and hardly any tools had even been left. What had been left were the bulky things, furniture and the like. Everything pointed towards a slow and methodical evacuation of the village. In some ways, that was less alarming because it perhaps meant that whatever drove the inhabitants to leave wasn’t so urgent or terrifying that they had been rushed. On the other hand, maybe it meant that they would be coming back at some point!
The decision of whether or not to occupy the village was an important one, and it still hadn’t been settled. That would have to change soon. They could clear out a space and build their own settlement somewhere in the vicinity, but for the same amount of effort they could just as easily take over the dozens of perfectly furnished and serviceable homes and workshops in that village, using the saved time to fortify and expand it as necessary.
Regardless, timber was going to be necessary and so the logging began. Since no saws or axes were to be found in the village, the clan was left to improvise. Suitable stones were gathered from the lakeshore or broken off of boulders in the woods, then knapped into wedges and fixed onto the ends of sticks using copious amounts of plant fibre and the like. It was easy enough to make a hundred crude axes like that, and then there was no shortage of muscle among the orcs to make use of the newfound tools. They worked in teams andclear cut a swathe of woodland, then went about removing the branches from the fallen trees and dragging the logs back to a single timber pile. The smaller branches were mostly used for firewood, but some robust pieces were set aside for making the fishing spears and other tools. A few days of this saw them build a stack massive enough to start construction on houses, or perhaps a palisade wall.
While this harvest went on, many of the orcs of course helped themselves to the village and spent their nights beneath the still (mostly) waterproof roofs of those houses. Many were growing comfortable, and some had even tried to stake claims on certain places! Still, there was nowhere near enough housing or space in that village for everybody to have a patch of floor to sleep on inside one of the houses, so jealousness and controversy was already starting to arise between those who slept inside, those who didn’t for lack of space and yet wanted to, and then a third faction that remained wary of the abandoned village altogether.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 1030 Livestock: - None. Military: No elite or standing military. Warrior culture, with up to around 60% of the population capable of being mustered for battle when needed. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Below Average Available Resources:
Fish (large quantity, harvested in small but increasing amounts)
Wopwe returned to his dwelling in the canoe after having ensured that his sentencing had been carried out properly. A light rain began to fall, little more than a drizzle, but the droplets of water still ran down his face cold. There was some satisfaction to be had in thinking about the traitors shivering atop the tower, damp and frigid. His wishes were conveyed to the clergy, who dutifully went on to pass the message along to the people. Even from within his home, Wopwe was able to just barely hear one of them that was addressing a small crowd not far away.
“And the Kvune has decreed that additional food is to be levied and set aside over the coming weeks. The temple will store it until such time as the next holy day, and then a great feast and festival shall be had! In the meantime, even as you may go without, stay true to the faith and remember our values. To encourage a return to piety, Kvune Wopwe wishes us to encourage all of you to devote your spare time to the creation of icons and art. We will inspect any such works, and the greatest among them will be consecrated and taken by the temple itself! Anyone who creates such a worthy addition will of course be rewarded…”
The priest’s voice was then drowned out by a heavier rain suddenly emerging to strike the roof harder now. He walked over to a window and looked outside to see the priest quickly wrap up his speech so that they could all disperse and see themselves into shelter before the sudden downpour soaked them. Then there was a great flash, and seconds later a great thunderclap that shook the town! A brilliant bolt of lightning had illuminated the sky, tracing a line from the distant tower straight to the heavens. Perhaps the goddess had seen fit to smite them after all. Or perhaps it had simply been chance--who was to tell?
Well, that was a foolish thought. He was to tell, of course. And that meant going outside to examine the tower in person, and explain the meaning of that divine punishment as he had planned.
Not long after, he was in one of several canoes headed for the tower. Many a clergyman or citizen-witness accompanied him; there was a grim air and they were disgruntled, not just from being out in the heavy rain but also from the sinking in their stomachs as they tried to steady themselves for the grisly sight of what awaited them. The entire top of the tower had burst into flames, if only for a minute or two before the rains had managed to douse them, so it was easy to imagine that the condemned prisoners might be charred beyond recognition.
As they drew closer, there was nothing to fill their ears save the pounding of rain, no screams of agony or pain. They climbed up the tower, and lo and behold, they saw the twisted corpses all scattered across the iron cage, contorted in position of agony, all except one! The man coughed and heaved, his ragged breathing immediately catching the attention of the guards. Across his flesh, a strange pattern had been etched. The lightning’s scars painted him the mark of the goddess, and for a moment all was still. Then one of the clergyman knelt down in worship. Half the guards followed his lead, and the other half were frozen in shock. Only one had the quick wit to look towards Wopwe for direction. “The goddess appeared before me, in the thunder’s flash,” the survivor spoke. His ragged voice was only a whisper, but it seemed to cut through their shock and the sound of the rain as sharply as a thundercrack. “She spoke to me, and chose to spare me, as I am to be Her voice and recite Her holy words.”
Another of the clergymen knelt. “Share your wisdom with us, O prophet!” he cried out.
What was Kvune Wopwe to do in such a situation? This had turned very sourly, and now he perhaps faced an even greater threat than the traitors’ failed coup had been. Trying to insist that this man be left in the cage to die would be futile; the people would never accept such a decree, as it seemed apparent to all that this man had been spared and marked by the Divine itself. But could he suffer freeing this man, one of those that had violently tried to overthrow his rule, and allowing him to assume some role as a Prophet? Perhaps now, while there were only about a dozen witnesses, Kvune Wopwe could try to make a move...he could try ordering his guards to kill the man, and then perhaps those two clergymen (if they couldn’t be made through threats or bribes to swear silence) to cover up the whole ordeal, but would that even work? Would his guards even listen if he gave such an order?!
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 760 (The executions Livestock: - Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Infrastructure: A well-built and established town, a small logging camp Food level: Average Resources:
In all possible directions, groups of Ragora hunters ventured to find wildlife to hunt and bring back for their great hunt. As the lands were new to them and seemingly bountiful, the lizardmen had no problems finding plenty of game. Many travelled to the great statues that dotted the peninsula, thinking of the ruined beings as gods or some old monument to greatness. Due to the foliage and great overgrowths however, it was still impossible to say what race they were made to depict. Most of them lie in ruin and rubble, with a few limbs or stony weapons poking out from the ground.
”Izakk!” a young hunter called out to his comrade. ”I’m coming, Grakk.” responded another young hunter. Their group had made camp at the base of one of the few statues that still stood upright. ”Look!” said Grakk. ”There’s an inscription on this great statue. Some old forgotten language! It must be!” Grakk had removed some hanging moss from the base of the statue and found a flat rock wall covered with markings and depictions. ”What do you think it means?” he asked his friend, excitedly. ”I’ve no idea.” said Izakk, staring at the runes in awe. They were both too young and inexperienced to know anything of runes or ancient civilizations. They could however decipher some of the more obvious hieroglyphs. ”This one looks like… A lizardman?” said Grakk, pointing at one of the markings. ”And that one looks like the sun!” said Izakk, pointing to another. ”It looks like the lizardman is praying to the sun.” Grakk brushed off some more moss. ”There are two suns!” he said, as the moss revealed another creature, not lizardman of appearance, seemingly praying to a sun-like object. ”That’s not a second sun.” said a voice from behind the lizardmen. They spun around, spears in hand and snarled at the stranger. They did not recognize it as one of their own, or any race the two young hunters knew of. Then again, they had not seen much of the world yet. ”Who are you, stranger?” demanded Izakk. ”And how do you speak our tongue?” The figure was hooded and cloaked, hiding much of his shape and appearance, though Izakk and Grakk thought they could make out a humanoid face beneath the shadow of the hood. The figure lifted a five-fingered pale hand, signaling he was unarmed. ”Calm yourselves. I come as a friend.” Izakk snarled in response. Grakk pointed his spear at the figure. ”You’re no lizardman. Who are you?” he demanded. The stranger lifted his hands slowly to pull back his hood. As he did, he revealed himself to be a dark elf, an old one at that. Not that Izakk and Grakk knew what a dark elf was, but they vaguely recognized the stranger as some type of elf or human. ”I am but an old man, and I must admit I thought I was alone here for a very long time… It seems I was wrong.” said the old elf. ”But now’s not the time for musings. That ‘second sun’ as you called it is no sun. It is the moon, as it appeared long ago before the shattering.” he continued, and pointed at the markings. Grakk glanced curiously back at the hieroglyphs. ”What? The moon used to be like the sun?” he hissed under his breath. ”Yes.” responded the old elf. ”Now look further down. See how the moon seems to be weeping. It is telling of the shattering - how the moon fell apart into thousands of pieces and was scattered across the night sky.” Grakk stared at the markings in amazement, forgetting the stranger had snuck up on him only moments ago. Izakk’s growl brought him back to his senses, however. ”Why are you telling us this? What do you want from us?” said Izakk. ”Your people have venerated the sun and moon for generations… I’m surprised you didn’t know this already. I can teach you…” said the old elf. ”I can teach you how to interpret the markings and rediscover your old heritage.” Izakk and Grakk exchanged a confused glance. The stranger lift his hands and brought on his hood once more. ”But we must wait. In two nights, the pieces of the moon will be sufficiently aligned for me to show you the secrets of your past. Meet me here then, and I will teach you.” said the old elf and turned around to leave. Izakk stopped him with a question. ”Again, why are you telling us this? Why make this offer to us, stranger?” he asked, demandingly. The stranger paused for a few moments, then threw Izakk a glance over his shoulder. ”I’m but an old man seeking to educate the next generation.” he said, and disappeared into the wilds. As if vanishing, Izakk and Grakk could not find him again no matter how much they searched. But what do they do now? They know nothing of these kinds of things… Should they tell the elders? Or should they keep this to themselves? Should they completely ignore the stranger’s offer?
A) Inform the elders and leaders. Surely they will know what to do with this information. (Your choice if you still want to meet the stranger or ignore him) B) Izakk and Grakk keeps the informations to themselves, and decides to meet the stranger in this place in two nights. C Izakk and Grakk decides this is was but nonsense from an old hermit. They tell no one and try to forget about this.
Results of the great hunt will yield next turn.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Settle D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 921 Livestock: - Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 40% of adult population. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Low (Improving) Resources:
Timber (Low)
Furs
Wealth: - Trade: - Growth: +3% Base: 3%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level. Morale: 90% Foreign relations: N/A
Not long after Harald had left the halls, an aide ran into the room. ”Apologies, Yarl Thorfinn, but there’s a matter that the guildmasters say they want to discuss immediately.” the aide said with nervousness, with a hint of embarrassment of not having been able to keep the guildmasters at bay waiting their turn. Thorfinn furled his brows as the guildmasters only moments later came into the hall. Most of them seemed in outrage. ”Yarl Thorfinn.” said the representative of the Engineers’ Guild. ”These fools dare accuse the Engineers’ Guild of theft and treason!” Thorfinn didn’t even have the time to respond before the representative from the Warriors’ Guild came up behind the first representative. ”And rightfully so! The Engineers’ Guild have disregarded our laws and stolen from the great clan’s resource stores!” he said. Thorfinn recognized him as Grimli, an old warrior of great repute but who had passed his glory days long ago. The Engineers’ Guild representative turned to face Grimli and frowned deeply. It was Uthmar, an Engineer said to be a genius yet a little erratic. The rest of the clan representatives came after Uthmar and Grimli, and were arguing amongst themselves. It seems the Inventors’ Guild was on the Engineers’ Guild’s side, while the Runecrafters’ Guild was on the Warriors’ Guild’s side.
Curiously, Thorfinn recognized two more representatives from the Traders’ Guild and Craftmen’s Guild. They seemed to disagree with both the side of the Engineers and the Warriors. ”Quiet down, all of you! You will speak your turn, and act as is appropriate!” Thorfinn commanded in a booming voice. The representatives quieted down and inclined their heads at the Yarl, but exchanged angry glances with each other. ”I will hear you all out, but this is the last time you burst into these halls unsummoned in this manner. Understood?” Thorfinn continued. The gathering of representatives nodded, and muttered their apologies to the Yarl. ”Grimli. Explain your accusation. Do you have evidence of this claim?” Thorfinn asked the old Warrior. ”I do, great Yarl.” Grimli said, and stepped forward. As he was old, tradition and respect was important to him. Thorfinn could see he was ashamed of having acted so disrespectfully. ”First, let me apologize for this rude manner in which we bring this matter to your attention. It was not our intention of being so… Dramatic.” Grimli said, and threw a hateful glance at Uthmar as he spoke the last word of the sentence. ”As you know, the resource stores are accounted for weekly, and watched daily by aides from each of the guilds. Lately, many stores have been lost to the tunnel collapses, and those we still have access to are running low on supplies of ores, materials and tools. Resources all the guilds use in one way or another, and pay the crown accordingly in tariffs.” Grimli continued. Uthmar rolled his eyes at the long and formal speech. ”Get to your point, Grim.” said Uthmar, annoyed. Thorfinn silenced Uthmar by raising his palm calmly. Uthmar obeyed. Grimli shot the engineer another angry glance before he continued. ”Lately, we have been noticing our supplies are running out faster than expected. Especially those of metal ore, gunpowder and a few chemical ingredients. As my aide was inspecting one of the stores, he came upon an errand-boy from the Engineers’ Guild, stuffing different supplies in a knapsack! He was caught red-handed stealing from the store!” As Grimli finished, a murmur rolled through the small gathering. Thorfinn raised a brow. ”Sounds like the word of a lone thief to me. Should he not be dealt with according to our laws, Grimli?” said Thorfinn. Grimli nodded. ”Aye, and as such we apprehended the youngling. However, as we gave him his opportunity to explain himself, he said he was only following the instructions of the Engineers’ Guild. Specifically, the orders of Uthmar!” said Grimli, and pointed a finger accusedly at the Engineer representative. ”He does not even deny it, great yarl! Uthmar ordered his aide to steal from the store to use in his own machinations!” finished Grimli, and took a step back. Thorfinn frowned. ”Is this true, Uthmar? Have you orchestrated theft from the Clan?” Uthmar shook his head. ”Of course not! This is all according to Clan law! Each guild gets to withdraw a certain amount of resources as they require it in their work! The Engineers’ and Inventors’ Guilds have been hard at work with making tools, machines and other devices to help our Clan survive the disaster that has befallen us. As such, we have used our right through the Law of Necessity to withdraw slightly over our quotas.” said Uthmar, calm and collective. It seemed Thorfinn’s authority had lent some order to the bickering representatives.
Thorfinn knew the law of necessity, though no one had enacted it for a couple centuries so the praxis was a bit out-dated. Uthmar was a very clever dwarf, but he was not sinister. If he had taken more supplies than the quotas allowed, it had been for a reason. Still, he had done so underhandedly and as such betrayed the trust of his fellow Guilds. While that itself is not a crime, it is important that unity among the Guilds is maintained, lest they be overcome by greed or anarchy.
Thorfinn nodded and stroked his beard in thought, then he faced Grimli. ”Do you object to what Uthmar is saying, Grimli?” he asked. Grimli shook his head. ”No. But I disagree. The Law of Necessity cannot be invoked in this manner.” the old warrior said. Thorfinn nodded once more, and then turned to the representatives from the Traders’ and Craftmen’s Guilds. ”And you, gentlemen? You seem to agree with neither Grimli nor Uthmar.” he asked them. Filin, the representative from the Traders’ Guild, was a young brownbeard and was clad quite ornately compared to the rest of the representatives. ”I cannot bring myself to agree with theft or the prosecution of one of our most esteemed guilds. However, I believe this can be settled in other ways. Monetary, for example.” said Filin, holding his chin high. ”Go on…” Thorfinn responded, crossing his arms. He knew Filin was probably only here to attempt to gain something out of this ordeal. ”The representative from the Craftmen’s Guild and we of the Traders’ Guild suggest that the Engineers’ and Inventors’ Guilds pay an increased tariff of their … Shall we say, extra acquired, goods. By compensating the other guilds for the deficiency of resources they are using, we can continue to maintain good relations and all get what we want in the end.” Filin finished. He almost sounded like a politician, Thorfinn thought. Then again… He is a politician. Grimli grunted. ”Great Yarl, it’s not about monetary compensation. It’s about honor and trust, and the fact that without metal with which to forge new weapons, we could fall to an enemy. No, the balance simply must be maintained.” he said.
Which representative will Thorfinn agree with? A) The Engineers’ and Inventors’ Guilds. The steady inflow of new tools and devices is imperative to our continued survival and the increasing growth of our great Clan. The Engineers and Inventors will have their larger share of our resources for now, until we can refill our stores. The Warriors’ and Runecrafters’ Guilds are sure to be upset by this decision.
B) The Warriors’ and Runecrafters’ Guilds. Without weapons, our warriors cannot protect us. What Uthmar has done is go behind the backs of his fellow guildsmen and stolen from the Underhall Clan. For this, he must be made to see the errors of his ways. The Engineers’ and Inventors’ Guilds are sure to be upset by this decision.
C) The Traders’ and Craftsmen’s Guilds Agree to the suggestion that the Engineers and Inventors simply pay an increased tax on the goods they need, to ensure that everyone feels a just exchange is being made. Even if this decision seems like it satisfies all parties, the Traders and Craftsmen are the ones who really benefit from this, however, and agreeing to this may be seen by some as Thorfinn giving favor to them.
---
Later that evening, as Macdoug and Deepstone ventured out with their warriors onto the fields of Dougsdahl, they stopped for a moment outside the mighty entrance to their halls to observe the setting sun. They hadn’t been out here for so long, it was almost nostalgic to see the sun again. Sending scouts ahead of them, the main party slowly descended through the mountain pass. They did not know what would await them at the fields, and so they were preparing for anything. A few paranoid warriors kept looking all over the mountains back and forth, expecting some sort of ambush.
Dougsdahl consisted of a few storehouses and burrows for dwelling. Farther away, a small watchtower doubling as a bunker loomed over the only road out of the valley. Just beyond the watchtower were the great western woods--cold, dark and misty. Not many dwarves had ventured into those woods, and even fewer had ever returned. As the warriors made their way through the streets among the dilapidated buildings, the sounds of whatever animals they had heard before gradually quietened. Madoug and Deepstone ordered a halt, and the group readied themselves. A muffled scraping sound could be heard from one of the houses, further down the road. It was the remains of what once had been a tavern, and as such the most visited building in the small village. ”Ready yourselves, lads.” said Deepstone, quietly. The warriors were ready already, however. Slowly, out of the doorless entrance of the ruined tavern, crawled a ghoul-like pale being with hideously long teeth, deep sunken black eyes and disproportionately long arms ending in spear-like claws. What was so terrifying about this ghoul was the fact that it had no lower body, and no jaw. Its tongue dangled lifelessly down where its jaw was supposed to be, and it used its long arms to crawl along the ground, dragging the rest of its body with it. Perhaps the most terrifying part, however, was that it vaguely resembled a dwarf.
”By the Stoneshaper…” one of the warriors gasped under his breath. As if the creature had supernatural hearing, its head jerked towards the group of dwarves. As it spotted them, it shrieked and gurgled and charged straight at them. Macdoug readied his axe. ”Slay it in Thorfinn’s name!” he cried, and the dwarves charged together in unison. The ghoul slammed one long limb into the first-charging dwarf, throwing him back. The second, third and fourth dwarves however guided their axes true, and sunk their steel into the ghoul’s flesh. It gurgled and yelled in pain, and at last a fifth warrior managed to lop its head clean off with a well-aimed strike. As the head rolled down the street, the dwarves followed it with their eyes. They were too shocked of what they had just witnessed to speak to each other. The head came to a halt as it bumped into the wall of another of the ruined houses, and as it did another scraping noise could be heard from it. Another ghoul stretched its long limbs out of the window of the dwelling, and stared at the dwarves, who formed back up and readied themselves for another fight. One after another however, more ghouls started to appear in the windows and empty doorways of the ruined houses all around them. The dwarves were around 50, and Deepstone did a quick count of the ghouls he could see and concluded they weren’t more than a dozen, but who is to say there aren’t more just below another rock?
-
Meanwhile, along the many passes and slopes of the Everwinter Mountains, the huntsmaster and her rangers searched for animals to be domesticated. While they had spotted a few goatherds, they had not yet managed to successfully trap any of them and bring back. Somehow the goats were crafty, and way smarter than they look.
The hunt continues, but the hunters won’t be successful until next turn.
-
Harald and his warriors set out into the wilderness. Who knows what they will find?
This turn consisted mainly of the expedition readying themselves. More to come.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 816 Livestock: - Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Low Resources:
Timber
Copper
Stone (different sorts)
Wealth: - Trade: - Growth: +2% Base: 2%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level. Morale: 100% Foreign relations: N/A
@Reia Yeah, if you'd like a "random spawn" so to speak that is arrangeable.
Also Cyclone summed it up pretty good with: it varies from stone-age ogres to 16th century dwarves. For example I think currently we have muskets, so gunpowder IS a thing but it's not very wide-scale at all.
Land ho. New lands. Oddly enough, this wasn’t where Jasper thought he would end up. This continent wasn’t on any of his charts. Was this crude luck or were his acquired sailors so worthless they somehow had sailed into an entire continent on accident?
No matter. He could feel it. This land was ripe with living creatures. Deathholme would be the capital of a new empire that not even death could stop. While living subjects were necessary, powerful beings could transcend their mortal coils - much like Jasper himself had done. He was a Death Knight now, emotions were useless and so were mortal concerns. Yet, he was to be a strong leader. His people feared him, for not all of them had yet been indoctrinated to the cult’s teachings. And even those who were… Well, they still were right to fear him. Fear was an excellent motivator. The promise of power too.
Overlooking Deathholme, Lord Silverpine had to decide which task was to be done first. Constructing the settlement had already revealed what the nearby area could offer. The forests around them provided excellent timber, and basalt could be mined from the cliffs nearby. The wild boar, deer and moose that roamed the land provided furs as well. But what to focus on next…? Resources? Food for his subjects? Scouting the area? Perhaps he could delegate…
-
Only a few days after arriving, a strange feeling swept across everyone in the settlement. None felt it as strongly as Jasper, however. He recognized this feeling. Knew it well, even. The unmistakable feeling of undeath, like a mist blanketing the entire land. Jasper felt it strongly when he first became what he is today. Suddenly, he felt a strong urge to travel south, into the mountains that blocked the horizon far away. These misty, cold lands drew him into them somehow. One thing was clear: they aren’t the only undead on the continent.
”My lord.” A servant interrupted Jasper’s thoughts. ”What is it?” he hissed back at the servant. ”When we dug the foundations for the storage, we found this.”
The servant presented a strange, tealish stone. Within it were crystal-like shards, glimmering like gemstones stuck in a chunk of rock. The object wasn’t larger than a palm, but when taking it in his hand Jasper thought as if the weight of the entire world resided in this one piece of rock. He dismissed the servant without another word. Clearly, this stone had some sort of magical property. Jasper decided to...
A) Attempt to absorb the magic within, to strengthen himself. B) Store the stone to study later. C) ...do something else.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 1000 Livestock: - Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Low Resources:
Timber
Stone (basalt)
Furs
Wealth: - Trade: - Growth: +3% Base: 3%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level. Morale: 75% (People fear your rule.) Foreign relations: N/A
In no time, the slaves and overseers had constructed the beginnings of a settlement. The surrounding lands had plenty of animals to hunt and lumber to chop. The river as well as the sea had plenty of fish, and not far to the east was a small hill where the rocks were stained with a greenish tint, hinting at copper veins beneath the earth.
There was, however, something strange about the land. While living creatures were abundant, it was as if an overhanging feeling of death seeped from the northern mountains. The entire mountain horizon was dominated by distant, towering mountains. Mist and clouds seemed to seep from the rock and blanket the lands beneath.
”Father, is our journey over?” a young elfling asked his father as they, together with their servants, had set up their dwelling and was putting it in order. ”Over?” the older elf asked his son. ”We’ve sailed the seas for months and finally made landfall. We’re creating a new home. The Lord-Trader said we’d conquer these lands now. So the journey is over?” the son persisted. ”Did you feel like your journey was coming to an end when we left our ships?” asked the father. ”Well, no, I…” ”Exactly.” the father gave his son a grin. ”Imagine. This entire continent… It’s on none of our maps. No one has even heard of this place. Truly, our journey has not ended, my son.” He turned back to a chest that had just been hauled over from the rest of the cargo. Presenting an ornate black and silver key, he opened it. The chest creeked and the son could see gears turning and pieces shifting. ”Our journey has just begun.” the father finished, bringing out an item from the chest that the son recognized to be the customary weapon of their kind. It was forged from the finest metals, and the hilt was extravagantly decorated. True elven craftsmanship had gone into making this exquisite weapon fit for a lord.
What weapon did the father present to his son? The weapon you choose will be the dominant one wielded by your soldiers. Dark-Elven infantry is revered across the lands, and feared. The one you choose will be the main weapon your elite soldiers will be trained in and carry throughout your campaign, until you actively choose to change it.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 750 Livestock: - Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Low Resources:
Timber
Copper (Not mined yet)
Furs
Wealth: - Trade: - Growth: +2% Base: 2%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level. Morale: 100% Foreign relations: N/A
The landing had gone smoothly. This exotic island would be a perfect home for the expedition. Long, bright beaches with white sand stretched to either side of the horizon in parallel with those of the barely-visible silhouette of the smaller island across the bay. A variety of vegetation, much of it decidedly tropical, carpeted a slightly hilly landscape, concentrating into a forest to the east. To the west, a huge mountain loomed with a powerful presence, so tall that it cut the clouds. A river flowed from it, making its end into the sea where the men had decided to make their landing. The settlement was styled Encampo Nuvo Parva, and so far things were going well. The island was home to a variety of birds and the surrounding bay’s shoals offered a wide array of fish both familiar and foreign, so for now the expedition was able to sustain itself through toiling to reap those bounties.
Along the river were many trees with small, green thumb-shaped fruits clustered together, as well as some exotic citrus. Many were sour and underripe, ruined by the unseasonably cold trade wind. Still, they were abundant enough, and were gathered in great quantities. Though they could hardly be used as a staple as things were for fear of turning stomachs and causing diarrhea, in limited quantities they were fed to the afflicted sailors and used to treat scurvy.
A forest of tents soon cropped up a ways inland, and in the ground around its perimeter were driven stakes cut from the various hardwoods and other trees to be found. For now it would be an exaggeration to call the abatis lines a true palisade wall, but given time they were be able to improve those fortifications. If they saw fit, they could even dig trenches and perhaps divert the river to create a flooded moat, and then use the excavated soil in earthwork fortifications. Some raised gun platforms would go a long ways towards making defense of this river mouth and its surroundings more feasible.
While the anchored ships were emptied of all that remained of their dwindling supplies and all was ferried ashore, some of the marines went further inland to survey what parts of this land they hadn’t been able to see from the coast.
To their surprise, and even alarm, further upstream they found an embankment of at least half a dozen small, abandoned boats. Rather than having been neatly dragged up the riverbank to safety where they’d presumably be safe in the event that some deluge or storm created a flood, it looked as if they’d been haphazardly thrown down and abandoned.
They were outrigger canoes, very small (such that they felt cramped for even just one or two of the men to sit in) and probably only intended for use up the river and maybe out in the bay within sight of the island’s shore.They were in various states of completion, with one notable specimen having been fully carved. The vessel’s makers had even started painting it; there were beautiful and stylized pictures of clouds, the already-familiar silhouette of the great mountain that dominated the island’s skyline, and some of the recognizable local wildlife and fruits. But there was also some sort of squat humanoid figure, half-painted...the paint had smeared there, and then the vessel itself had seemingly been struck repeatedly with an axe or clawed at with a rasp, for where the little humanoid’s head should have been there were only holes and gouges in the ship’s hull, and this particular canoe had been flipped over and (seemingly intentionally) hurled into a boulder that protruded from a dense thicket of plants. In that violent process, the fragile outrigger had broken and some of the woven plant fibers attaching it to the main hull had torn.
The Expedition has had their illusions of being alone on this island utterly disenchanted. But what was Sir Gabraldi to do when the marines reported back with their findings?
A) Send an expedition to search for these native Boat-Builders, for it would be good to be more cognizant of their location, technology, and numbers before deciding how to deal with them. Presumably they dwell somewhere further upriver or in the nearby jungle, so it would only be a matter of time before a search party encountered them. Perhaps some sort of diplomacy could also be initiated, and it might be better that first contact be established before the locals find foreign invaders and a fortified landing site on their lands. B) Take a defensive stance, making entrenching the camp’s position the utmost priority and ordering the men to stay as close to the encampment as possible. If the people only leave to conduct vital foraging and always do so in large parties escorted by armed men, they would be at the smallest risk of ambush or kidnapping. The shattered and discarded boats suggest that the natives might be divided and warring at best, or perhaps just unpredictable and prone to anger. It will only be a matter of time before these Boat-Builders discover the Expedition’s presence, if they haven’t already, and when that happens it will be best to have a defensible, vigilant, and strong position in case these foreigners are hostile. C) Take some other course of action.
Then, of course, there was also the question of what other actions the Expedition would take. Even if they sought to go on the defense and wait for the natives to make an appearance, work could certainly be done to improve the military’s readiness or or the people’s morale.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 1000 Livestock: - None. Military: Small corps of trained marines. Militia able to be conscripted up to around 30% of population. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Low Resources:
Timber (with rare hardwoods; currently harvested in small quantities)
Fish (large quantity; currently harvested in small quantities)
Bananas and citrus fruits (large quantity in the wild; poor harvest with low quality; currently harvested in small amounts and not cultivated)
It was a long, long march for the Bloodhowl orcs. Fortunately it never seemed as though they were in any imminent danger, so they took their time negotiating the foreign lands at a steady pace and foraging from the country around. They fished as they followed the river all the way from its mouth, down its neck, and finally to its heart that was the great lake they now found before them. Especially once they reached the more forested parts of the riverland, there was also a wealth of berries to gather, game to hunt, and other means of sustenance. That such a bountiful land could be so empty and devoid of people was a strange notion.
Throughout their journey they never noticed any civilization or other people; the signs were there of course, in the form of the occasional tree that’d been felled for a camp’s firewood rather naturally blown over, or in the few bits of ruined waterskins and other discarded refuse that was buried in the muddy riverbank. Some small paths between the woods were too wide to have likely been mere game trails, and as they journeyed farther up the river, the deer and other game became scarcer. They were not accustomed to such subtleties however, and failed to note any of those indicators ast hey passed them by.
When they finally found a spot that they deemed worthy of claiming, it was within sight of a great lake so large that they couldn’t see the other side. Were the water not so sweet and pure, they might have thought it to be another sea just like the one they’d sailed across just a few months prior. Here the land was surely blessed by their enigmatic gods; the lake could provide, and boulders and timber aplenty to make tools and erect permanent shelters. But perhaps erecting those shelters would not be so necessary after all, for one of Grimtak’s companions had stumbled across something just a short ways into the forest. “You should see this,” the hunter told his friend. Grimtak of course followed him into the trees, and the two made their way up a small creek and past some seemingly well tended groves of trees, and then finally into a bit of a clearing.
Within the clearing there was a settlement, but it was desolate. A light breeze of wind blew through the site while Grimtak took it in. It hadn’t been empty for very long; there were few signs of disrepair, and no holes in the roofing or walls for the breeze to whistle through. Some grass had started to sprout up and grow between the cobbles and stepping stones of the unused pathways, suggesting it had been perhaps a few months since those little roads had been walked. In total there were about two dozen small cottages and buildings, all of which looked to still be in perfectly good condition from a distance.
“I lurked out here and watched it for hours,” the hunter told Grimtak. “Thought they might be hiding inside the houses, but there’s been nothing. Not a whisper, not even a shadow in the windows. What should we do? Tell the others? What do you think the elders would even say?”
The Bloodhowl Clan is already presented with a major dilemma. They could:
A) Immediately begin investigating this strange settlement, searching for any treasures or things of use that might have been left behind, and perhaps seeking clues for what may have happened to its inhabitants. Maybe the clan could even occupy it? Why break their backs and sleep under the rain for months working to build their own houses when some are right there for the taking? B) Leave, and quickly. This doesn’t feel right, and there’s no telling if the place is cursed or if the inhabitants will come back. C) Take some other course of action.
But of course, after making their decision there would still be other work to attend to.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 1000 Livestock: - None. Military: No elite or standing military. Warrior culture, with up to around 60% of the population capable of being mustered for battle when needed. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Low Available Resources:
When the Rhaetians stepped through the window to this strange and foreign world, it was with a grace that lesser races could only dream of. Their feet landed upon the ground so gently that the grass did not bend and the fallen leaves did not crinkle, and the procession of warriors and tradesmen and scholars, wizards all, followed their senses as they sought out the nearest source of magic. Attuned to such things as they were, they followed the magic-laden wind until they came to see a small lake in the distance that radiated an invisible power, the Moonwell.
A few small huts and other crude shelters sullied the land around such a sanctified place. Undeterred, the Rhaetians approached, but to their horror those with the keenest eyes were able to behold the lurching forms of trolls, skulking around the Moonwell’s gently glowing surface. The dark creatures chanted and danced around the lake’s shore, worshiping its power, whilst some worked foul magic by drawing up the water into ewers and bowls, then pouring it into the center of strange chalk circles adorned with skulls, torches, and rings of salt.
Realizing at once what had to be done, the Rhaetians emerged from the wooded foothills like ghosts and descended upon the unwary trolls. A barrage of magical attacks almost instantly destroyed several shelters and killed some of the trolls, but the beasts’ bewilderment turned into savage rage within moments. Some of them snatched up the closest things resembling weapons and then charged headlong to meet the elves in battle, perhaps trusting in the magic of their own potent charms and fetishes (many chiseled from moonshards, glowing eerily in the darkness of the night) to protect them. Such was their might that a few of even the most skilled Rhaetian warriors were overpowered by the great trolls that were fighting near-naked and with only tomahawks, spears, or makeshift bludgeoning weapons as arms.
Some of the other trolls called upon their dark powers and tapped into the Moonwell’s magic, then conjured their magical attacks. The ground rocked as fire, light, shadow, and other forces were animated and wielded to deadly effect. Considering that they were taken by surprise, the trolls put up a ferocious fight, but in the end they were inevitably slain.
They immediately occupied the trolls’ camp and began erecting fortifications near the Moonwell, naming this new bastion Arhnore. Most of the trolls’ possessions and supplies were immediately cast away or burnt; they took for given that such action was warranted, lest traces of the foul trolls or their equally vile magic contaminate noble Rhaetians. But in a small rocky cliff, beneath the twisted and gnarled roots of a tree, there was a crevice. And as the warriors peered into this cave, they heard a wheezing. They drew their fine blades and entered cautiously, and there inside they saw the final relic of this fallen tribe of dark trolls -- a single survivor, seemingly ancient with long white hair and cracks in his tusks. He clutched at a still-bleeding gouge in his side, the wound so severe that it was probably only the prodigious regenerative powers of all trolls that had kept this one alive.
He looked at the Rhaetians with dead black eyes and spat, but then he tugged at a signet ring upon one of his fingers. The beast’s finger was like a sausage, so fat and the ring so tight that the had to break his knuckle with an audible crack to get the ring off, but he did so with little more than a grunt before casting it at the elves’ feet.
It was oddly ornate and exquisitely made, but was dead and pulsated no magic, for it had only dull black onyxes rather than the brilliantly glowing white moonshards that some of the other trolls had worn about on their trinkets.
The troll’s mouth did not move, but its magic was nonetheless potent enough that it could speak. Even as he laid against the wall in the deepest recess of the hole, and they stood by the entrance, they heard the troll sorcerer’s ragged voice in their minds as clearly as if he was whispering into their ears from only a hair’s width away. ’You have bested me and my tribe, and unlike my foolish brethren, I know when to surrender. That ring is a sorcerer’s sign of power, and to surrender it is the ultimate humiliation. Enjoy your triumph, little ones, for my kind are bound to serve at the whims of any who come to bear our rings. So bring my tribute to your warlord or great shaman, and then we shall be as brothers, slaves to the same master.’ He cackled a bit at that last part.
The telepathy carried more than mere words; it also betrayed the troll’s every intention and thought. The loathsome beast barely felt any sorrow or sense of loss for its dead fellows. He was of course simmering with rage at the present situation, though he kept it coolly suppressed, and the troll seemed just as disgusted by the elves as they were by it, too. Yet through all of that, there was an honesty and candor to its mind. It meant what it said, and harbored no plans of betrayal.
Still, there was the question of whether Princess Aranalda would accept such a thing even as a slave.
A) Accept the offer, at least for now. The beast is clearly a powerful sorcerer and would of course have knowledge of the land, and those both make it a potentially valuable resource. It could always be slain or banished later, anyways. B) Kill the monster; even if it is being earnest in its surrender and offer of servitude, its mere existence, much less presence, is insult enough that there can be no mercy. C) Take some other course of action.
And then of course, after making that decision the Princess would have to decide what her people were to do whilst the construction of their settlement began.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 700 Livestock: - None. Military: A few skilled battlemages. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Low Resources:
Timber (not harvested yet)
Wealth: - N/A Trade: - N/A Growth: +2% Base: 2%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level. Morale: 100% Foreign relations: The Troll Sorcerer: Neutral
Kvune Wopwe’s recent seizure and centralization of power had certainly brought a new era upon the Entmoian people, but some among the tribespeople wondered if the move boded well for them. Though he of course had garnered the support of many members of the great families before proclaiming himself Nupa, there were inevitably many opponents.
The Entmoians, being long established in their swampland home, had many advantages: they knew of the swamp region and of their immediate surroundings, they had decent (if not impressive) stockpiles of various resources from past years, and their home at Entmo had long been self-sufficient. They subsisted off of the swampland through a combination of fishing, gathering, and the occasional bit of hunting. Of course their settlement had not simply materialized out of nothing, either; a small logging camp felled willows and other local trees for timber.
Even now with their old ways being rapidly overturned, there wouldn't have been much to complain about, if one of the most prominent families hadn’t just tried to stage a rebellion to assassinate Wopwe and ‘check the clergy’s rampant and undeserved power’. The plot had been discovered just before it had boiled over into arson and violence, but there were still no less than 30 men and women that had been arrested; in such a small community, most people were friends (if not some sort of kin) to at least of the dissidents.
That of course meant that Kvune Wopwe walked a fine line in deciding what was to be done with the traitors!
A) Offer mercy, and grant them pardons...but not immediately. As penance, they will first have to somehow repay the Nupa and the tribes. Perhaps they could be enslaved for some time as indentured servants, or banished from Entmo with orders to form a penal colony elsewhere and deliver the fruits of their labor to Entmo. Either way, their toil could be used to end this dark age and fuel a new phase of industry and expansion. B) Sentence them all, or at least the ringleaders, to execution. Treason cannot be permitted, especially of the highest sort where they attempt to overthrow the entire ruling body and undo all of the progress that was made in the past years. C) Take some other course of action.
And then of course, after making that decision the Princess would have to decide what her people were to do whilst the construction of their settlement began.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 750 Livestock: - Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Infrastructure: A well-built and established town, a small logging camp Food level: Average Resources:
It had been a hard journey for the Ragora Tribe. They had no home, barely any tools to work with and their supplies were running direly low. What little dwellings they had to shield them from the weather were makeshift, and could break from a rough gust of wind. If starving and low of morale, the Ragora were sure to waste away. Their entire tribe could die out in the following months or even weeks if their leaders did not act decisively. Yet, lizardmen were not known for their intellect or their unison. Their leader, Thrall, thought it best to focus on infrastructure for now. His people could not live in huts made of twigs and furs! No, even if they were nomadic for the time being, they could not forsake their way of living. Counting their supplies, Thrall was sure of his plan. The supplies they had left and the amounts foraged from the surrounding lands would be enough to carry them until they had made better homes for themselves. The forests was teeming with life, and the ocean had some shore fish that could be hunted easily enough. In the surrounding area where the Ragora had made their temporary home, the lands were flat and green with grass stretching far, with a few patches of woodland to provide shade, lumber and a habitat for small animals.
Though where there was abundance of prey, there should also be predators. So far however, the Ragora had not found any. In these savannah-like lands, surely there should be some sort of apex predator? One thing was certain, the scouts and hunters were both happy and cautious.
Before long, a scout returned from the west. He had found the edge of the land, the ocean. Apparently their location was on a small peninsula, for all they could figure out. What was more however was that the scout saw, far in the distant when the day was clearest, a mountain stretch into the sky further to the west. There’s probably more land over there, on the other side of the strait! Not long after that, more scouts returned to report their findings. Many reported that along the coast, on both the west and east side, they had found statues ten feet tall. They were overgrown with shrubs and other greenery, but they vaguely resembled some sort of humanoid, chained to the ground by a sword. The ones that still had their limbs and hadn’t crumbled too much seemed to longingly reach out towards the sea. Some stood, others knelt, but all faced the sea and all had a sword through their body that stuck to the ground. Also, they all were disrepaired and in the process of being claimed by nature. Obviously, they were made by some civilization a long, long time ago...
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Settle D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 900 Livestock: - Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 40% of adult population. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Low Resources:
Timber (Low)
Furs
Wealth: - Trade: - Growth: +3% Base: 3%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level. Morale: 90% Foreign relations: N/A
The kingdom shuddered from their recent dark times. A misfortune some called it. Others called it a calamity. All agreed they had to push through if they were to survive, to carry on the legacy of their forefathers.
“A stone of wishes”, Thorfinn had called it. His followers and retainers were… sceptical. A stone cannot grant wishes. Sure, many a myth and legend spoke of precious gems found deep underground that were said to hold magical power, but a stone that makes statues? Surely there was something else to it. They did not disbelieve him, for they had seen the statue be reshapen from stone and thin air, but a stone that grants wishes? Actually… The more some thought about it, the more it made sense. Perhaps it was a gift from their forefathers? A helping hand in their time of need? But then rose the issue of why the assassins had gotten this gift first. What exactly were these stones, and why did it hold such magical power and then burn out into dust?
So many, many questions. So few answers. Uthmar lit his pipe as he contemplated. He was taking a break from his engineering-work, seeing as he had very little to work with at the moment. While pondering, he spread out on his working table a large parchment. A blueprint of some sort, with loads of diagrams and components and instructions and notes written on it. So much was there to see on this parchment, anyone but the most skilled engineers could tell what was on it. Uthmar sighed. His dream invention would never work. He needed something potent that could enhance it and power it, and such a thing did not exist yet. Perhaps he should go about inventing that first? Bah.
It seems the lands and mountains are calm, for now. It’s almost too quiet around the kingdom, but the dwarves had other things to worry about...
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 800 Livestock: - Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Infrastructure: N/A Food level: Low Resources:
Timber
Copper
Stone (different sorts)
Wealth: - Trade: - Growth: +2% Base: 2%. +-0% from morale. +-0% from food level. Morale: 100% Foreign relations: N/A
