Vilageidiotx

Precipice of War - We Write Under The Sign Of The Goat

Them numbers are super serial, you guys. We will use them all the time when we are Rpin'

Lord save them when I start posting about people fighting by swinging power saws on chains.

Precipice of War - We Write Under The Sign Of The Goat

Woop, fixed...

If you don't know about it...

This RP...

...is gonna be epic.

Rise of Empires

Leos Klien said
There's no way on on gods green earth that you could maintain 30 million military personnel and 1.1 billion civilians, think about it, today's largest military is china with ONLY 2 million personnel in it.You'd have a civil war on your hands instantly.The average wage for a soldier is about £14,700 per year (including tax) times that by 30 million and your total military upkeep comes out at 429,000,000,000 per year, instantly bankrupting your nation.Even if you half those wages you've still bankrupted your nation.So no, 30 million isn't going to do it.

This is really a poorly thought out response. Here is why.

Currently, military sizes are low because we are living in a relatively peaceful period in history. There hasn't been a war between two major world powers since the Second World War; the only thing nearing an exception are the proxy wars. The twin facts of nuclear weaponry and a global economy reliant on open borders has made large scale militaries unnecessary.

To get a more appropriate look at how many soldiers have been fielded in the past, we see larger numbers. The peak strength of the soviet union during WW2 was 12 million. That was in 1945, and in a nation with a population of roughly 200 million people. China has enough people to field. The problem becomes economic and structural.

So how do you field that many men? Its not difficult. Governments, unlike people, do not have the same pressure to pay their bills. The concept of a nation adding military costs, even expensive ones, to their public debt isn't too strange. It has happened before. In reality, it is a major part of what makes up many national debts.

But there are other ways of doing it. In some drastic cases, pay is witheld (this typically causes rebellion). Or soldiers could be forced into the military (also a potential cause for rebellion). However, there are ways a person could finance a military. A popular ancient method was to give out land or titles. This played a part in the Roman expansion into Gaul and Iberia - these places weren't worth much, but they had good farming land that an aspiring politician could parcel out to soldiers to gain their love and affection. Feudal military classes figure into this too. This wouldn't work the same way in this Chinese military since 30mil is a lot of people, but it could mean that a soldier is guarenteed a place to live and a stipend of food. If the economy is bad enough, that might be all it takes.

You could also go the Starship Troopers route and have military participation be a requirement for citizenship, or at least access to certain rights. This would especially work if a majority of the military functions as a reserve that is able to hold a job.

Another tried-and-true ancient method would be looting. If this world is particularly damaged by this disease and whatever other set of events caused things to change so rapidly, There would probably be no international protection against something otherwise considered barbaric. One could see using this as a way to subsidized the Starship Troopers method. You feed your family with a job when you are on reserve, and when on duty you loot shit and use that. If China institutes slavery for the conquered or raided, this would help even further.

The final thing to add to this is that there could be more of an incentive to this military than warfare. If you use excess troops to do things that bring economic benefits, like building infrastructure or even bringing in resources, this military could pay for itself.

The important thing to do is not pigeon hole things based on overly elementary understandings. Shit is complicated, yo.

Precipice of War - We Write Under The Sign Of The Goat

The Wettest Part of the Sea

"Burble" burbled the drowning sailor.

Precipice of War - Factsheets and Post Catalogues

COMING NOW - VILAGE'S STUFF

ETHIOPIA INFORMATION SHEET 3.0


LINKS
MCF Infosheet
Sporum Infosheet
Detailed Map

CHARACTERS

Royal Family: House of Solomon (Solomonic Dynasty)
-(Emperor Yohannes V). Deceased. Born June 2nd, 1915. Assassinated in 1974.)
-Empress Dowager Elani. nee. "Elani Aman". Born January 11th, 1922. Description/Introduction

-Emperor Yaqob II. Born January 7th, 1953. Description/Introduction
--Title: His Imperial Highness: Emperor (Negus Negast) of Ethiopia and Unified Africa
-Empress Azima. nee. "Azima bint Hassan al-Soomaaliyeed" Born September 30th, 1955. Description/Introduction
-Sahle. Currently goes by the alias "Samel" Deposed former Emperor and older brother of Yaqob. Born December 18th, 1946. Description/Introduction
-Princess Taytu. Born April 20th 1951. Serves as Foreign Affairs Advisor on the Imperial Advisory Board and is the older sister of Yaqob Description/Introduction

-Prince (Lij) Tewodros. Born July 21st, 1978. Son of Yaqob and Azima. Description/Introduction
-Olivier Gezi. Orphaned during the Katanga Rebellion and maimed by Ras Hassan. Born February 23rd, 1977. Adopted son of Taytu. Description/Introduction

Royal Retainers
-Mvuli Tansi. Captain of the Imperial Guard. Hero of the Katanga Rebellion, where he lead the Lost Battalion through enemy territory. Lost his eye to Caleb Banks, a rogue Mormon Missionary. Lost his leg to a Gorilla. Description/Introduction
-Dr. Malcom Orji. Elani's Dementia Doctor. Student of Doctor Babukar Sisi. Description/Introduction

Diplomats and Foreign Relations Personal.
-Ita Thabiti. Assistant Adviser for Foreign Affairs. Close friend and right hand of Princess Taytu. Description/Introduction
-Fulumirani Digane. Ambassador to China. Somewhat relaxed, if not entirely dull man. Description/Introduction
--Jean Thaba. Fulumirani's assistant. Has a rusty voice, whatever that means. Description/Introduction

Ethiopian Military
- Ras Hassan Yusuf al-Soomaaliyeed. Commander of the Pan-African Armed Forces. Father of the Empress and grandfather of Lij Tewodros. Description/Introduction
- Ras Rais. Commander of the Pan-African Army. Description/Introduction
--Quartermaster Daud Quartermaster. Small, balding, Arabic man. Description/Introduction

--The Army is Divided into "Sefari".
---1st Sefari. Stationed in Gondar. Commanded by General Ojore Sentwala.
---2nd Sefari. Stationed in Chad. Commanded by Ras Zayed.
---3rd Sefari. Stationed in Katanga. Commanded by General Biniam.
---4th Sefari. Stationed in Swahililand. Commanded by General Idrissa, the hero of Ta'if.
---5th Sefari. Stationed in Chari near the border with Spain. Commanded by General Motogusinile
---6th Sefari. Stationed in Sudan near the border with Egypt. Commanded by General Fergessa.
---7th Sefari. Stationed in Hejaz in order to keep the peace. Commanded by General Peyisai.
---8th Sefari. Stationed at the mouth of the Congo. Commanded by General Chisulo Iskinder.

-Walinzi: The Intelligence, Special Forces, and Investigative office of the Pan-African nation. Commanded by Hakim Mossadeq.
--Commander Mossadeq: Description/Introduction
--Agents
---Leyla Masri. Assassinated the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire by changing his heart medication and seducing him.Description/Introduction
---Elias Zelalem. Leyla's Walinzi partner. Description/Introduction

Leyla's Entourage
-Barentu. A large Oromo soldier. Sad man. Description/Introduction

Sahle's Entourage
-Aailyah. Sahle's Girlfriend. Maimed in Cairo by Stanley Barnham. Description/Introduction
-Yared. Krar Player, plays in band with Sahle. Description/Introduction
-Marc. Cornet, Trumpet, and Saxophone player. Known for ability to procure narcotics. Description/Introduction

Sahle's Aquaintances as Samel.
-Stanley Barnham. Known as the "Sheikh of Cairo." Oil-rich man who overseas the nightlife in Egypt. Stabbed Aaliyah in eye after disagreement, shot by the witless entertainer Bozo. Survival assumed.
-Vasily. From Russia. Bouncer at the "Dead Man's Den." in Sevan, Armenia. Description/Introduction
-Sanos Horasian. Often called simply "The Old Man." Operates the bar called "The Dead Man's Den." Description/Introduction
-Oziryan. Armenian Crime Boss in Sevan. Description/Introduction
-Vladmira. Russo-Finnish woman with a flirty disposition and nice tits. Description/Introduction
-Darcho. Shitty Comedian. Description/Introduction
-Davit. Creepy doll maker who makes masks also. Description/Introduction

People of Africa
-Dr. Babukar Sisi. Psychologist. Neurosurgeon. Smuggler. Drug Kingpin. Advisor to the Walinzi and Ras Hassan. Secretly a Mad Scientist. Description/Introduction
-Priest Zerihun Biruk Current Priest in charge of watching over the Ark of the Covenant (tabot). Formerly an Exorcist. Description/Introduction
-Fulumirani's Unnamed sister in Awasa

POSTS
1:RP Introduction. Sahle dreams and arrives in Armenia.
2:Imperial Women explore Addis Ababa, Parade celebrating defeat of Ottomans.
3:Sahle arrives in Sevan, is hired at the Dead Man's Drink.
4:Party at Imperial Residence. Taytu mingles.
5:Sahle does LSD before a show. There is an attempted shooting.
6:Sisi reflects on Malta, Addis Ababa, and crazy brain stuff.
7:Elani is senile. That sucks.
8:Taytu gets drunk and talks about Egypt and threat of war with Spain
9:Sahle reunited with Aaliyah after shooting.
10:Hassan daydreams, watches gasmask fashion show, talks to Yaqob about tactics and movies.
11:Sisi visits Hejaz, watches a very complicated headache. Walinzi afraid Spain will learn of it.
12:Leyla and Elias ride the ENS Aksum to Port Fuad. Details of the Sultan's death.
13:Leyla and Elias do some actions in Port Said/Fuad.
14:Sahle is introduced to Oziryan, gets some primo shit.
15:The Spanish fire on Port Said, Ethiopians counter. Yaqob talks to people, meets a priest.
16:Fulumirani and Hou talk shop. Beijing is bein' purty. Also, damn fine coffee.
17:Aaliyah gets a new face. Sahle has a crush. Leyla and Elias have some night action.
18:Sisi writes. Leyla gets a cement liver.
19:Rais prepares Ethiopia's defenses. Leyla visits the egyptian spring for wounded chicks

Rise of Empires

Full nation name: The Multiglorious Conglamorepublic and Especially Esteemed Territoryhoods of Cascadia
Location: Oregon, Washington, Montana, Idaho, Alaska, British Columbia, and the Yukon Territory
Leader name: Prime-President Retched Bill
Capital: Fort St-James, British Columbia
Government type: Republican Federation of Dictatorships under the unquestioned rule of the Retched Bill personality cult.
Total army personnel: 500,000 as part of the volunteer standing military. Many more available through the draft.
Total navy ships: None as of yet, though construction of a fleet is under way.
Total air planes: None in the standing military. An aircraft draft could bring in many from the private sector.
GDP: 12. Poorly counted since there are no accountants in public employ as per Retched Bills ruling.
Population: 20 million.

Precipice of War - We Write Under The Sign Of The Goat

Chapatrap said
About 5 months back, I posted this but never got around to actually making it. The general consensus at the time was 'go ahead', so I'm assuming the same is now. What I hope to achieve is a thread where everyone has posted a fact sheet similar in style to Vilage's one on the . If we can include a post catalogue (with the short summary) at the end of everyone's fact sheet it could make it much easier to find relevant information for newbies rather than trawling through pages of IC. I wouldn't ask you to update it daily but maybe every three months or so to update the posting catalogue.So, yeah, expect that to come along in the next few days.

I don't know how the rest of you managed to get along without doing the same thing a long time ago.

I update mine every time I post in the IC. That is the easiest way I do it.

A normal highschool with a twist. (RP and OOC)

Alsum searched blankly for meaning in the flames. It was an empty gesture, born from years of ritual. He saw no meaning. There were four jets of fire, each one ascending from the opened burners of a gas-burning stove top. Their light flickered softly in the clean white acrylic of the stove's surface. It had a calming quality, like the glow of a lamp underneath freshly fallen snow. His mind was foggy. He thought of ancient liturgy, of hidden histories and the narrow snake-like dance of history as it intertwined with superstition. And he thought of what it meant to be cool. A prayer came to mind; an old hymn sacred to his Mandaean faith.

Ul-ablez,
Ul ablez,
Ul ablez al...

I am burning,
I am burning,
I am burning for you.

"Alsum." a voice said. "Alsum." He heard his name and awoke from his trance.

"It is time for you to be going to the school, Alsum." his teacher said. He was an older man, dressed in immaculate white. His beard grew wiry and thick. It had went all grey, except for a shock of black that cut through its center like a spine of starless ether. "You have your mission, and it cannot be denied."

"I have not slept, your priesthood." Alsum answered. His eyes had grown heavy over the night. He had turned seventeen, and that meant it was time for his third translation of the Ginza. He had chose Chakobsa this time, not knowing how hard this would be. It was difficult going. The Chakobsa language was dead to the public academia, requiring Alsum to limit his research to Mandaean sources. Chakobsa, too, was a hunting language. It was quick, brutal, and strained by prehistoric simplicity. Sometimes, he felt it was impossible to explain the subtleties of religion with something so crude. This enterprise was sapping his energy.

"We are preparing the beds for Sunday." the elderly priest informed. "You will rest when it is time to rest, but you have other duties now. Remember who you are."

"I am Alsum." Alsum responded.

"You are Also, also." the priest replied. He took no joy from his own pun.

"I am Also." Alsum agreed. "I will go to school, but I will require what is required."

The priest nodded and clapped Alsum on the shoulders. "You will have what you will need. We have always guaranteed this. That is a truth. Now, go down, child, and prepare the world."

The Mandaean enclave was a gentle blend of the old and the new. Its walls were cobbled from varied stones. There were thin slabs of sandstone and hefty blocks of granite. There were porous volcanic bricks and clay-tinged river rocks. Their colors came together like a rainbow, red and yellow and orange and white and black. And brown and grey. No set of stones went without the brown and the grey.

There was, too, furniture that spoke of the old world. Candles and candelabras were common, much more so than the gas lamps that took care of the rest of their lighting. There were Victorian couches, and Egyptian beds. Pillows filled the corners and covered the floor, red satin and velveteen purples mixing with with oranges, goldens, and blacks. But there were modern things as well. The gas stove was not only new, but it was also a holy item. There was a phonograph on one table and a boombox on another. Mandaean laptops lay on the floor as well. Their cases were made from richly colored woods engraved with images like those found in Hindu temples. Despite their ancient trappings, these laptops were very much modern. Alsum cherished his, and lamented that it could never be shown to the people of the School known as High.

When he left the comfort of his monastery home, he was struck by the cold mountain winds. It was snowing, and the blizzard danced around him. The stone foot-paths that connected each part of the monastery was buried in white, and green Lebanese pines bent from the weight of the cruel ice. He heard the cold wail, and felt it biting at his skin. This was no matter. He grabbed onto the zip-line, one hand on each handle. From behind him, carried beyond the violent scream of the weather, he heard the priests' voices rise together in hymn.


Home in the valley
Home in he ci-ty
Home is not pretty.
There is no home for me.

Home in the darkness - those words entered his head as he looked down into the valley below. Swirling snow obscured the rocky mountain cliffs. He knew what was below. He had taken this route before. He took a deep breath and jumped.

His hands were frozen solid to the wooden pegs that held him to the zipline. He could only hear the angry howl of wind and snow, underscored by that the whine of the zipline wire itself as he wheeled down it. Ice spat in his face and blinded him. He contemplated this place, high above the plains. Here had been the ancient marches of the Mississipian Empire. They had fought the Anasazi in these lands, in a time before Europe knew of this continent. He was imagining the experiences of the Mayan chronicler who had seen it all. When the snow gave way, he saw the countryside and examined it with thoughts of history on his mind.

Three hundred feet below him sprawled an endless expanse of dry scrub broken by colorful patches of green and red. There were circular fields too, something that you could not see from the ground. His hands held firm to the zipline, and he descended. It looks as if earth was reaching up to smack him. Even now, after thousands of rides down the line, the view inspired something in him. It was different from the feeling of blind illumination he received from the uncapped stove. It was different from terror. No, this was a feeling of seeing the world at its own speed. It was the understanding of life from the outside. It was the privilege to see the universe as God did.

When the Earth finally did reach him, it happened all at once. He held his breath and struck the ground with a roll. Even after he stopped, his body still felt the pull. It was dizzying. It felt as if he was balancing by one foot on a precipice, constantly slipping only to somehow catch himself before each inevitable plunge. He breathed deep and waited for the feeling to subside. His eyes burned.

He steadied and stood up. This place never changed. He saw the aging farm house, and the clothes line that attached so seamlessly to the zipline he had rode down on. He looked up from where he had came and saw nothing but steel-blue sky. He remembered the saying. 'Some mountains are so tall that you cannot see them. How strange it was that such a thing could be so literal.

He looked back down at the clothes line. There were two steel cross-shaped poles, both draped in sheets. He remembered why he had came. It was time for school, and for his work. He turned around and ambled toward the back door.

In the window of the door, he saw himself. So different from the boy they knew at school. He wore robes of pristine white, and a small white cap on the top of a bush of curly black hair. It was time to change that. He knocked. Before his knuckles could strike a third time, the door swung open. "Alsum" the little bearded man said. "You are late. I am thinking you are late." he grabbed Alsum by the wrist and pulled him inside.

There it was, a banal midwestern kitchen. Linoleum floors with floral designs, stained yellow from years of smokers before this house came into Mandaean hands. Wood cabinets, a refrigerator covered in letter magnets, a collection of Elvis collector's plates. Alsum could smell the stale scent of mildew. On the kitchen table, there were dozens of bottles and jars and boxes, all food or drink or vitamin. They were arrayed neatly, but randomly. Amongst them were unlabeled bottles of colored liquids. Alsum's eyes wandered, and he stared at the collection.

"Alsum." the bearded man snapped. "Alsum. Also. Hello."

"Yes, your priesthood." Alsum answered meakly. The priest looked at him with uncertainty. "Are you feeling how you should be feeling, Alsum?" he said.

"I am tired." Alsum rubbed his eyes. "Just tired."

The priest nodded and smiled. He picked a small bottle from the table. It was orange, and on it was a picture of a little silhouette jogging.

"5-Hour energy?" Alsum said. "Is this the poultice that am to be prescribed?"

"Oh no no, that would not do." the priest replied. "Such a thing is pedestrian and weak. You will be awake for a long time, and you will need you strength. This is a different thing. A greater thing. It will help you to be the Also that you need to be."

Alsum read the label. "6 Hour Energy?" he asked.

"Yes." the priest replied. "This is not a public thing. Only a few have access to its power. It is for the military, and for NASA, and for professional gamers."

Alsum grabbed it and hugged it to his chest. "I will cherish this life's fuel. I will not sleep until Sunday, and I will need all of this." he paused, waiting. "Isn't there another thing I am meant to have."

The priest remembered. "Oh yes! Of course!" he piped up. He grabbed a small plastic bottle of green ooze. "Prepare for school. I will prepare for you preparing." The two nodded at each other, and Alsum swigged the green goo.

He felt it. He felt it all. Adderall to widen his mind. Caffeine made him more aware, and testosterone increased his libido. And there were the male pheromones that he would exude throughout the day. There was a small hint of cocaine and liquor to loosen his inhibitions. And there was mint, so that his breath would smell amazing. This was the stuff. This was the invention. It was a social cheat, and a fuel that any person would wish for. Yet only the Mandaeans owned it, and they did not share. This was their stuff. This was Awesomesauce

He moussed his hair and combed it back. He put on his tightest skinny jeans, and a pair of two hundred dollar sneakers personally signed by DMX. Under them he wore a pair of very hip hop socks. He sprayed a subtle deodorant, and than a strong one that would quickly dissipate and leave a pleasant musk. Finally, the crowning touch. His T-shirt was sewn by an award winning team of Vietnamese seamstresses who had been saved from slavery and flown all the way to California to work in a Tee Store owned and promoted by Vince McMahon. This one was a slim number with bulging seams. It was blue - not the deep blue of the ocean, but a calming baby blue like that of a newly laid robin's egg. On it was the likeness of a muscle-bound viking. Above him, and below him, a phrase was spelled out in bold, capitalized print.

"HEY MAN"

"WE GOOD"

It was a masterpiece of garment engineering, with the right amount of youthful sneer. He put it on and stood in front of a mirror, looking into his own eyes. He began to repeat.

"What is up."

"What IS up."

"WHAT is UP"

"What's up."

"Whatsup"

"Whasup."

"WHAASSUUUPPPP"

He went to school.

A normal highschool with a twist. (RP and OOC)

Name: Alsum Daoud. AKA "Also". AKA "Awesome Dude."
Age: 17
School Year: Junior
Gender: Male
Appearance: Middle Eastern. Tall, wiry frame. Long neck, broad jaw with tufts of wiry hair on the chin.
Personality: Secretive, but sociable. His many friends know little about his life outside of school. He always manages to stay on top of popular trends. He gets along with virtually everyone, socializing openly with people no matter what their status is in the pecking order.
Crush: None at the moment. Outwardly, he flirts with the more popular girls, but nobody can say that he has a preference for any one.
Relationship status: Single
Skills: Superb social skill. He is intelligent and has excellent control over his emotions.
Schedule number: 2

Precipice of War - We Write Under The Sign Of The Goat