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Poke'mon Battlegrounds.

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Civilization - New Lands, New Glory

On the Continent

Aderyn was pleased that the “Ards” did not wish to fight. Their initial reaction had been sensible enough, what with how short they were compared to the Cewri. But, if neither side wanted to fight, that begged the question: What now? After taking a second to think, he had settled on something. They could just leave the Ards to their own business, and continue exploring the Continent, but the Ards were already established on the continent. Aderyn was no diplomat, but he figured that the Ards could make things rather difficult for them when they eventually had to expand off of the island. By that same token, if they established good relations with the Ards, their knowledge of the landscape would be useful, and they could engage in that all-but-forgotten practice of “trade.”

So Aderyn did not just leave. Instead, he called forward Gethar. Gethar was the greatest hunter amongst the Cewri on the continent, and had caught a large buck earlier that day. Even as large as they were, the buck was much more than the Cewri could eat in a single night. Gethar had already skinned and smoked the meat, and

Aderyn turned back to the Ards, “We catch meat in this land. Much meat. Want share, make friend. Yes?”

Summary

I)Take Diplomatic Action: Offer a shared meal to the Ard Lumberjacks.

Civilization - New Lands, New Glory

Man, does it feel good to see this kicking up some dust again.

It's a bit too late 'round my parts, and I'm a bit too tired, to write a post that's up to my standards, but I'm here. I really have no idea what to ask for for that extra event, so @Chenzor, I say "Surprise me." And don't worry about getting it done right away—I'm not exactly pressed for events for the moment, with the Sky-Lord and the meeting with Cyclone's lumberjacks going on.

Civilization - New Lands, New Glory

@Chenzor, you couldn't get rid of me if you wanted to.

Civilization - New Lands, New Glory

I'm keeping an even keel. Glad to hear from you.

Realm Builder

Hello there! These are still very much a WIP, but I hope to finish on the morrow. As it stands, the night grows dark, and I grow weary.

Also, these incorporate ideas from other world-buildy RPs that never got too far off the ground, and that I've had jostling around in my head for a while. Hope you don't mind.

Salek-Torval

Name: Salek-Torval

Population Size: 64.

Settlement Type: Camp, by technicality (See Below).

General Visual Description: Nestled in a large crevice in the side of a tall mountain, Salek-Torval is a monstrous palace and fortress, built of blocks hewn of the granite plentiful in the Cragspire range. The outer wall is imposing—easily fifty times the height of an average man. Its bricks are larger the main structure’s, being just over half a man’s height. The gate is left open, so that shipments of supplies can reach inside.

Beyond the wall is a large courtyard. Here, an expedition consisting of the entire current population of Salek-Torval has made their primary encampment. This expedition, led by the world-renowned wandering scholar Akthlotep Ter’ras, is here to study Salek-Torval, after having initially discovered the site in the autumn, but having been forced out of the mountains by the onset of winter. Also strewn about the courtyard are what appears to be stables for some sort of large mount.

The entrance to Salek-Torval proper is a monstrous edifice, covered in myriad carvings and stonework that reveal the first great mystery of the place—be it through luck or (more likely) some enchantment, it has not been decayed or eroded in the slightest. The detail on the carvings is staggering; many full-body images (at what appears to be life-size) have been carved to show individual scars and, in the case of the larges image (easily thrice what would have been Giant’s height) individual hairs atop the figures head and its beard. The edifice itself extends no taller than the wall, but only just so.

The impressive stonework is a constant throughout Salek-Torval. In the first of what totals three levels, Statues of warriors, life-size for a Giant, with swords planted in the ground at their feet and long-unlit sconces in their cupped hands. On the floor all throughout the first level are swirling carvings, painted in deep violets, blues, and dark grey-greens. Aside from the statues, this level is sparse—this is where the soldiery here operated, using long-rotten wooden furniture that did not ecieve the same protection as the stone. In the room furthest from the entrance is a massive iron door, sealed shut by some puzzle mechanism, that leads to the catacombs.

Up a flight of—befitting the place—tremendously large stairs is the second level. While—much like the level below—only stone remains, there are a variety of clues that this was where the general populace of Salek-Torval lived and worked. Nooks in the wall with holes leading up to the open air that must have been for cooking, shelves carved it no the walls, and so one. The statues of the previous level are gone, but in their place are normal sconces protruding from the walls. There are a number of spiraling staircases leading to the next level.

Here, there is not any discernable means of lighting. Nevertheless, the walls were clearly meant to be seen. They are covered with murals, depicting battles, funerals, coronations, peasant farmers, craftsmen, and so on the list goes. In short, it was a scholar’s dream come true. On this level is the largest room in all of Salek-Torval—the altar-room.

Settlement Garrison and Defences: While, like the rest of structure, Salek-Torval’s defenses remain entirely intact, they were also designed for individuals with twice the height and thrice the strength of its current occupants (if one ignores the catacombs), and render the indomitable wall all but useless by leaving the gate open so that supplies can come in unimpeded. As a result, those who now live and work within Salek-Torval are protected by little but their remote location—itself a non-insignificant deterrent to would be attackers—and weapons with which no more than ten of their number have properly trained.

Structures of Interest:

• The Wall: The Wall of Salek-Torval is easily fifty times the height of the average man, and cannot be scaled because of its smooth exterior. If the gates are closed and barred as designed—no mean feat for its current occupants—than it would be impenetrable to almost any attacker. Furthermore, something about the wall has given it a resistance to magic. Though any mage strong enough to topple a whole section in the first place would little trouble overcoming this defense, anyone else would find it impossible to punch a hole in the wall. The gate is easily four times a man’s height, and thus roughly twice the height of a Giant. It is left open, so that shipments of supplies can reach those inside without the immense difficulty of actually opening the gate.
• The Encampment: Where the expedition studying Salek-Torval is currently camped. It is itself is nothing impressive, pitched tents of leather, lined on the inside with fur for the colder nights. Food is stored and prepared off to the side, under the watchful eye of Telerius Voth, camp cook.
• Akthlotep’s Tent: As both the leader and wealthiest member of the expedition, Akthlotep possesses the largest tent of everyone there. It is tall and broad (for a tent) affair. The outer layear of leather, to keep out rain, has been dyed swirling colors reminiscent of dawn—which is entirely out of place in the stark grey of the outer stonework. The interior is lined with all manner of fur, to keep warmth in during the night. To one side is an organized mass of crates containing various papers and artifacts. In the middle is a table, on which is, at various times, a map of the surrounding mountain range, maps of Salek-Torval itself (made by members of the expedition), and documents related to the supplies in the encampment and those scheduled to come up the mountain. The tent both serves as his place of sleep and the hub of the expedition—being where ventures into the main structure of Salek-Torval are planned and recorded, and where all notes, drawings, and recovered artifacts from such ventures are stored.
• The Altar-Room: The walls of Salek-Torval’s altar-room are adorned with the gods worshipped by the Giants—A man, blue of skin, wearing a crown of stone beneath the sea; A man sitting on a throne of clouds; A man, frozen in ice, wearing a crown of iron, and holding a scepter; A woman, clothed in mist and fog; A woman, smeared with the grey-black of ash that extends beyond the discernable edge of her body. At the center is the rooms namesake—the altar. It is, as one shoucl really expect by now, a massive thing. The base is clearly granite, like everything else, but the altar-top itself is made of quartz. It appears to be removable, but the expedition team has yet to successfully remove it. Were they to do so, they would find the mechanism to reveal the path to the embalming chamber, hidden in the wall on the far side of the altar-room.
• The Embalming Chamber:

People of Interest:

• Athklotep Ter’ras, The Wandering Scholar. See Below.
• Telerius Voth: An imposing man, serving as cook for the expedition top Salek-Torval. He always acts like a jovial man, but rumors abound of the horrible things he’s done to people who try to take more than they are rationed. In truth, most of these are lies he spread himself, to dissuade people from doing just that. He has served with Akthlotep for years as the cook on his expeditions, and is one of the few people in the camp with any true combat experience—having served as camp cook in a mercenary company before joining on with the wandering scholar (“You don’t get by with those sorts of men without knowing how to fight,” he is known to say).
• Zhesan Hooth, Priest-Lord of Salek-Torval:Zhesan is, by all accounts, the last living Giant in the world—though “living” may not be the right word. He was sealed in the embalming chamber by the one who would become the Great Lich in the Catacombs, and it is by his direction that the spirits sealed away with him keep the Great Lich confined down below. While his own spirit is still tied to his body, it is only barely kept as such—his physical form is necessary to keep the Great Lich and its undead contained.

Settlement's Leader: Athklotep Ter’ras , The Wandering Scholar: A dark-skinned man from a land far to the south, Athklotep is well known amongst the academics of the world for his discoveries and theories of nations and peoples long lost, and none have brought him greater acclaim than those he has made about the Realm of the Ancient Giants—as well as being one of few people alive who are fluent in the Giants’ language.

While beginning to grow advanced in years, his life on the road has helped him develop a strength and skill that still remains. While time will inevitably wear away what he is physically, the day wear he hangs up his travelling cloak and his blade is yet far off.

He came to the Cragspire Mountains on a shadow of a rumor that his instinct, well-honed over the years, said was worth looking into. He found Salek-Torval.

Location: Deep in the Craspire Mountains, a very sparsely populated mountain range in the northeast of Eramar.

Salek-Torval Catacombs

Name: Salek-Torval Catacombs

Inhabitants: Angry Spirits, Undead Giants, Great Lich

Lair Type: Catacomb

Alignment: Neutral

General Visual Description: As with settlements, I don't expect schematics. Just give an overall visual description of the lair, and what the players can expect it to be like if they visit it.

Population: How many monsters are there? Choose between 1 and 30, to avoid making them too unapproachable.

Places of Interest: List any places of interest, such as shrines, ancient burial tombs -- anything the players might want to discover when they're there.

People of Interest: Does the lair have any captives that can be rescued? Are there any monsters there that are unique from the rest?

Lair's Master: The chieftain, boss, overlord, lich -- whatever creature governs the lair. Please include a brief description of them and their powers.

Location: Either indicate with an image editing program on the map provided, where you would like it to be, or describe it to me - I'll do my best to put it where I think you mean.

The Dreamwalker Project

This was not what Gruffydd had thought would happen. [i]Maybe if I’d actually [/u]thought I would have seen it coming. Gruffydd’s gaze was drawn downwards, and his expression of contempt melted into one of shame. His thoughts spilled out into muttered speech—but in Welsh, the language he still thought in. “Mae'n debyg y gallai fod wedi bod yn waeth, ond mae angen i mi gael hwn o dan reolaeth.”

He looked up again at Keigo. “They’re right, it was a joke, and I should have seen it from the start. I was, I will admit, annoyed with—well, a couple of things, really—and I allowed myself to direct it at you, while you held direct responsibility for none of it. That was wrong, and I am sorry.” His apology was, as he had long ago learned custom dictated, with a bow. Not a particularly deep bow, as—despite his direct and somewhat grave phrasing—he understood this infraction to be relatively minor. But he was not one to beat around the bush in a situation like this, so both apology and bow were necesarry.

Gruffydd’s rather abrupt change in demeanor had caught Keigo off guard, but the underclassman got out a rather confused expetence. That done, Gruffydd stood straight up and, without missing a beat, delivered his fellow third year and elbow in the side, perhaps a tad more forceful than was necesarry, but the message was clear: “Alright, now it's your turn.”

The Dreamwalker Project

Gruffydd was getting very annoyed at this point. He had not thought it possible, but there was more inane drivel here than in his own classroom. He would have put an end to it quickly, if he had found Keigo in the small crowd that had gathered there. It turned out that, despite generally knowing where they were, it is difficult to look for someone when you don’t know what they look like.

But after a few grating minutes—including one mocking underclassman whom he chose to ignore—he was able to puzzle out which one of them was Keigo. As he approached him, Keigo made a rather interesting suggestion to a supposedly fearless classmate of his. While, in the back of his mind, part of him knew that he couldn’t really blame Keigo for this when he had jumped into the headfirst, Gruffydd needed to let off some steam. Plus, he was being a little shit. While the girl he was talking to was acting polite, it was clear to him that she had no interest in this cacophony—she just lacked any sort of enthusiasm for it all.

“My, my, how positively noble.” Gruffydd’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, “You’re Keigo, right?” With the underclassman’s affirmative, Gruffydd continued, “I just have to tell you how courageous that is. You go around telling everyone about how somehow got this mysterious code, to text from this mysterious building, and then suggest that someone else go and try it out. How unspeakably brave of you.”

The Dreamwalker Project

Ach, sorry for taking so long. I was in no condition to write something sensible yesterday, and today has been far less cooperative than I had expected. But now I have something up. Finally.

Oh, yeah, sorry about scaring a bunch of class 3-2 half to death there, but I couldn't resist.

The Dreamwalker Project

Gruffydd’s laughter cut through the air like a knife. At least, his friends reacted like it had, intent as they were on the tales of the mysterious building and its mysterious magic. Or whatever they thought was going on. HE could see in his peripheral vision that he had attracted some attention for it. No matter.

“What’s so funny, Iorwerth-san?”

Aside from how you still can’t pronounce my name right, Sano? It had bugged him at first, when he had first moved here, but there was almost nobody in this country who could pronounce a Welsh name properly, so he had gotten used to it. Now he even found it amusing. But that’s not what this was about. No, his friends were being stupid, so he was going to have some fun.

“Doesn’t it seem odd to you,” Gruffydd said, a grin plastered on to his face, “that it would be so easy?” A wry chuckled wormed its way out of his throat, “You know I’m a big fan of old stories, right? Well, whenever the supernatural comes on to the scene, and its offering something, there is always a price. What does it mean, I wonder, that whoever spread this rumor neglected to say what that might be, hmm?” He leaned in to the others as he went for the kill.

“How horrible it must be, that they’d be so worried about scaring everyone away.” It would seem that quite a few people had paid attention to his little performance—while not entirely silent, the classroom was a lot quieter than it had been. Not like he minded.

Sano Masao was the first, of those he’d actually been talking to, to speak again, “Iorwerth-san, you shouldn’t say things like that.”

Gruffydd grinned. “But you opened yourselves up to it. Besides, it’s the truth.” And it was—these people really had no appreciation for the old stories. “And besides, if there is any actual merit to these rumors, fear is the appropriate response.” Sano blushed with embarrassment, as did the others. Before any of them could say anything more, Gruffydd stood up, slinging his bag on to his back. “Anyways, I have a few things to take care of. Just remember to be careful if you send texts from any strange buildings, alright?” And with that, and one final chuckle, he slipped out of the room.

But for all of his joking, Gruffydd had to admit to himself that he was just as enraptured by the rumor as anyone else. In part, because he had been right—if there was anything behind the rumor, there would be a price to pay. And there’s no way it’s about finding your ‘soulmate.’ Maybe talking to the dead. Maybe. And he had overheard something, in all that dribble back there.

“There's no way Keigo didn't write that himself.”

“He swears he didn't!”

Alright, Keigo, let’s see how this story of yours pans out. Probably nonsense, which’ll be good for a laugh. But if not—however unlikely that is—they’ll need someone who has some idea what they’re doing, or they’ll wind up dead and hanging from an antenna, or something. The second-year wasn’t someone he was overly familiar with, but it as chance would have it, he did recognize the name. And he did know which class he was in.