IC God Game-Krux, Amuiel, and Tyriel

[Samfool]

Hello My Children. says the creator to his children I have news for you..


Your powers will not last you.

In the next two thousand years, your ties to the mortal world will be severed.

This is a sad moment, yet a happy one..

You will watch your world you have created from afar,
But before that,
You shall give them the gifts of your being.

This is your last chance to bless them, to give them the best of this world.

Remember, all life is precious.

Go forth young ones.

You shall learn that this is best for all..


His precense fades, leaving the three to discuss amongst themselves.

[WARRRlock]

Krux paused in the middle of his task. "What?!"

NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

[Samfool]

Krux paused in the middle of his task. "What?!"

NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Lawlz

Amueil alternates between his four personalities rapidly.

All of them shouting.

Except for one..
He is thinking, always thinking..
He speaks, and the other masks quiet themselves,

The world is still ours,
We must not dissapoint our creator
Just as our creations shouldnt dissapoint us.
We must give them every advantage in life that we possibly can.
This is our last stand as active gods.
We must make it worthwhile..

Who is with us?

He questions dramatically,
The other faces agree wholeheartedly.

[Harvest]

"This is a most disturbing turn of events. We must continue to lead our people as best we can, so that in our absence, they will do fine."

[Samfool]

All at once, the masks say Agreed

[Harvest]

"The Adriac Empire is pushing farther and farther east, and I think that soon, they may even touch the east seas." He says, most pleased with his people.

[Samfool]

Amueil knows every moment talking is another moment wasted.
He is still saddened by the loss of the Ebbons.
There are still some left..

Maybe he can save them?
Maybe he can ressurect his dying race..

He commands his Avatar to go and rally all the Ebbons he can and build a city on the other side of the great lake Illumia, named from the Greykin tongue. They are a small, quiet group, but they trade in the mystic arts, and plants with magic properties.


13 points for Tyriel
9 for Me,
8 for Krux
Command Avatar to make Goldrise City- 1 Point
Advance Civilization Goldrise City (Argriculture)- 5 Points
Advance Civilization Goldrise City (Alchemy)- 5 Points

Points for next turn.
[roll0]

[WARRRlock]

Krux's pride in his Greykin was immeasurable. They were his children, he looked after them, loved them, gave them words so they would understand his love....

"My children... Without me?"

A single tear slide down the poet-god's face. The tear fell from the heavens and onto the far south-eastern island of Silorn.

On earth, the Poet-King felt a pain in his heart as the sorrow of the poet-god erupted in his chest. As he lay in his bed chamber, a vision came to him; a vision of a tear, his tear, his God's tear, falling onto the island. He awoke from the vision covered in sweat... he whispered one word...

"Faaltiera-Kreux...."

... The Tear of Krux.

The Greykin had found their capitol. With the gift of advanced seafaring granted by the Goddess of Nature, the Poet-King commanded a full armada of Greykin to begin construction on the holy island, which would soon become known as the seat of the Ahun Duren....

Creating a settlement on the far Southeastern Island, and moving the capitol from the River Town (that will be named soon) to Faaltiera-Kreux, (not sure if I like the name, but I can always edit. ^^)

[Harvest]

Emperor Adrial raises a new army, and orders it to head east to construct a new fortress to provide protection to the the homesteaders.

Command Avatar 1 point (raise army)

Command race 4 points (command army to move east and construct fortress)
total cost: 5

[Samfool]

You guys all forgot to roll -_-

Erick's
[roll0]
Andy's
[roll1]


Beginning of the Round Rolls
If it happens
[roll2]
Who did it
[roll3]
Who they did it to
[roll4]
Was it good or bad?
[roll5]

Also, the evil Lesser God Gos has commanded his Fellborn!
He creates a settlement in the North Eastern Mountains (Erick has the map)
They settle on the lake, making the land putrid and horrible as they pollute it with their bile and infections.

It is named the Viso-Rath


Amuiel sees the poor Ebbon races and feels..
Remorse
He did not mean to place the race into servitude to the human empire..
He did not mean for them to die off in the zombie plague..
He did not mean to corrupt so many into the hideous Fellborn..

Amuiel cannot stand for this.

Gos must pay.

The Fellborn must die

And the Ebbons must be the ones to do it.


First thing is first.
They need weapons.
Not only magics and alchemy from their own resources,
But metal and muscle, that is what wins wars.
That is what they need..

The four masks send ambassadors to the human empire,
They ask for weapons and the knowledge of metal working, and passage through their lands to wage war on the hideous creatures.

The High Councilor of Goldrise, paragon of the Ebbons, and master assassin sends an ambassador to the Greykin poet king, he asks for his favor. Perhaps having the Greykin backing them will make the Humans see their need for assistance in this crusade.

[Samfool]

Forgot my rolls..

Also, the Alchemy is advanced twice, using 10 points.

The rest was simple diplomacy.

Rudementary Alchemy is where I started,
Basic is 1,
Improved is 2.

0 points left, +2 for not having points
[roll0]

[Harvest]

The emissaries from the new Ebbon settlement to the east of Turin, arrived at the Ivory Tower, the name for the incredible palace complex which house the Emperor, so named because of it's pure white stone of which it is constructed from, and because the Palace can be seen from just about any part of the city of Turin, as if it were towering over them. The complex is built an central acropolis in Turin. It is just as much a fortress, as it is a palace. Here, the Archturian Paladin Order are house, serving as the protection of the Emperor, and as his right hand.

The Emissaries are brought before the Emperor by an honor guard, who immediately welcomes them to Turin. He then orders a feast to be held in their honor.

Some of the most suculent food from across the Empire is served, as well as the finest wines from Ahun-Duren. It is obvious from the excitement of it's participants, that this isn't done very often.

After the feast, the emissaries are guided up to a private chamber, where the Emperor waits. They hold discussion about why they had come. After about an hour, the Emperor speaks.

"While I can see why ask for my aid, I can not give it right now. Your people worships a god of disorder, who's mysterious moves often complicate, and sour situations. On top of this, you converted my citizens, and took them to your own purposes. While I do not directly oppose of this, I still find it disturbing. On top of that, the fact that your people settle within the Ahun-Duren's borders shows me you have a lack of respect for sovereignty. Maybe in the future, there will be dealings between our nations. I wish you the best of luck."

He finishes by saying "You are welcome to stay here as long as you desire, as ambassadors."

[Harvest]

Forgot to roll[roll0]

[Harvest]

I'm going to have a new city constructed southeast of my newest fort, about an inch and a half, hugging the mountains. It shall be called: Ceserna.

I will also raise an Legion in the city of Corigon to serve as it's garrison, if it doesn't already one one.

Also, the largest Mithril deposit ever, is discovered east of Turin in the mountains. This greatly increases the prosperity of the Empire.

Command avatar to create city: 1 point
Command city to raise an army: 4 points.
Cause event: 7 points.


Roll for next round
[roll0]

[WARRRlock]

The Poet-King passes the Edict of Sanctum, a law that restricts any non-Graykin from entering the holy island of Faaltiera-Kreux without receiving a special grant from the Poet-King himself. This does not restrict the open trade to the island, although there is a special dock that is used to re-fit and house foreign sailors. The Edict also makes it more difficult for foreign settlers in Ahun-Duren mainland territory, although the law does allow many exceptions.

There is now a Hand of Krux garrison in the city of Kreux. It is the headquarters for the Order.

The Graykin advance their seafaring capability to included marine warfare. Ballista and catapult ships now become frequent and the Graykin now have a standing navy stationed in Kreux.

and for my next round... [roll0]


Word of the Ebbon's plan reached the ears of the Poet-King, and when the emissary of the Ebbon State arrived at the docks of Taramanac, he found a whole contingency of the Poet-King's Hand's waiting to escort him by boat to the holy island of Faaltiera-Kreux.

After the uneventful voyage from the mainland, the emissary arrives at the capitol city of the Graykin, Kreux. Built on the base of a plateau upward, the tightly knitted two-story buildings were a sight that the Ebbon had not seen before. The Hand's escorted him up the cities steps, and as he walked he noticed that all eyes were upon him. At the top of the plateau sat the Throne, the seat of power of the Graykin civilization. Build from the very stone of the plateau it stood upon, the tan looking structure arched out of the rock in a glorious formation. Simple and efficient, the Throne lacked the luster of the Ivory Tower, rather instead focusing on the beauty of oneness with the stone on which it stood. Statues of warriors, gods, and mages were scattered across the Throne's gardens, which where filled with exotic floras of every hue imaginable. the walls of the Throne were covered in writing which spanned from prophecy to poems, from ballads to historical transcriptions...

The inner sanctum of the Throne was even more bewildering for the Ebbon emissary. As he entered the Great Hall, he stood bewildered. Before him was a great library, spanning from on side of the stronghold to the other. Scrolls, books, and works of art were on display, and musicians stood upon make-shift stages, singing for the world to hear. At the middle of the library was a small structure which looked like one of the houses he had seen in the town. The Hand's lead him to the building and ushered him inside.

"Forgive those who stare at you on my holy island, for they are not accustom to seeing a Lost Kin in the sanctuary of Faaltiera-Kreux." A voice said, as the Ebbon entered into the building. The room was lit with candles, while the walls themselves were lined with fine draperies depicting epic tales that have been lost over the years... in the center of the room sat the Poet-King. A tall man, as Graykin go, the Poet-King was one of the most beautiful Graykin the emissary had ever seen. He radiated confidence and pride, but there was something else that defined him, a sort of glow that made him feel at ease in the alien land he found himself. The King waved to dismiss the Hands, and then with a gesture waved the emissary towards a pile of pillows, where a simple yet magnificently made meal awaited. The Poet-King then took seat adjacent to the emissary. The Graykin smiled as the emissary began eating, and when he was deemed finished, began speaking in a solemn tone:

"The Lost Kin will not be able to withstand the might of the Fellborn after the fall of Gellohk. The humans have denied you aid, and their fears are reasonably founded as your god stands against the unity and order that Empire thrives from. Yet, there is a certain beauty to the twists of fate that befall mortals, and our Kin understand change. You wish to wage war with the Fellborn? Our Kin have for centuries believe that the way to prove yourself is through the actions and merit of your deed. If the Lost Kin wish to prove themselves in a crusade against the Fellborn, we can provide arms and foodstuff for the initial trial, though you will have to come up with a more permanent solution in the distant future. Our weaponry is not as strong as the Empire's mithril, as we find combat as an unnecessary evil, but it should be enough to get you by."

The Poet-King rose from the pillows and walked back towards the center of the room, towards a veiled antechamber. He paused, for a moment, and turned to the emissary.

Our Kin would greatly benefit from the medicinal practices the Acolyte have been learning in Goldrise. It would be an honor to add their knowledge to our library, where it will be saved and used to benefit those who are in need.

[Harvest]

OOC: you roll 2d6, not 1d20.

[Samfool]

Round 3/20
Beginning Rolls!
+10=Gods did something
[roll0] YES
Which god did it
[roll1] MAGIC GOD
Who to
[roll2] KRUX
and was it good or bad..
[roll3] BAD..

Here is what I came up with..

The Arcane Magics from another realm spilled over into the holy land of Faaltiera-Kreux. This created new, very exclusive, exotic, and deadly anmals in the northern tip of the island. This makes traversing it impossible by mortal means without an army.

That is right, DiNoSaUrS

http://www.chetjohnsonillustrator.com/images/raptors.jpg



The Ebbon Councilmen find the recent turn of events.. amusing.

They speak unto the people of Goldrise, making sure an ambassador from each known nation is present. The elder one speaks, his voice, booming. His resolve, strong,

"As you all well know, our brothers and sisters were taken from us. They were taken by the great plague. We know it as the "T'tacha", and it has devastated us. The humans purged the city many years ago, but it will not be forgotten.."

The elder pauses, letting the moment sink in,

"Too long has it been! This tragedy.. this cruel fate has made us stronger than we ever were before! We were a peaceful people, using our magics to enchant and bewilder others, opening their eyes to wonder! Now.. Now is the time for us to use our magics for other purposes! Now is the time for War! Battle! Victory!"

The crowd is.. silent. This confuses the non-Ebbon races. The elder continues,

"We will destroy the Fellborn! It is our rite into the world! Without it, we are nothing but the leftovers of a broken nation! We must stand together in this! I know, each and every black-skinned soul in this mighty city will stand together!"

Now the Ebbons cheer. Now they celebrate the words, but there are more to come,

"Understand this! We cannot do this alone! We do need the help of others, just as one day, they will need help from us. Who would take our hand while we float away in this mighty river of challenges? We have asked, and our requests have been answered!"

At this time, the elder pulls out a scroll, and begins opening and skimming it for notes,

"The humans, their glorious and noble souls, have decided not to grant them with the materials from which they need to bring down Gos' demons. Their holy and righteous conquest has made them deny this request. I have, in my hand, notes taken directly from the Emperor's mouth! Here are the first words he speaks;

'While I can see why ask for my aid, I can not give it right now.'

In this passage alone, we find our place in the human world.
We are nothing but helpless creatures who need, who crave the assistance of their mighty empire!"

The human ambassador is appalled at the blatant accusation. His lord shall not be pleased, the elder knows this well..

"The second passage reads similarly to the first,

'Your people worships a god of disorder, who's mysterious moves often complicate, and sour situations.'

A god of disorder? He is nothing of the sort! He is no more the god of disorder than the Poet-King's Krux! Nor the revered and respected god Naruu who protects all of nature! The true god of disorder, the true ruler of that chaos is Gos Him Self!"

The old man coughs, his voice wavers, and his body trembles from both rage and illness commonly acquired by the older generations. He steadies himself as the human ambassador stands, not knowing weather to leave or stay to hear out the rest of the speech,

"On top of this, on top of all the slander, after all the insults, the blatant disregard for our culture and society, he goes on to say these words:

'On top of this, you converted my citizens, and took them to your own purposes.

"Who is he referring to? The proud Ebbons that he used as nothing but assassins? Nothing but tools and weapons? he goes on to say,

'While I do not directly oppose of this, I still find it disturbing.'

"Do you know what the people of Goldrise call disturbing?

You Emperor.

You and your outlandish palaces and extravagant garments, food, and wines!

You live in luxury while you cannot be bothered in assisting us in a war against the unholy! Something your Archon-Masters are sworn to abolish! You are no more holy than the fat merchant or the rich prince!"

The human ambassador has had enough, he leaves the auditorium, but can still hear the magically-enhanced voice of the elder as clear as the sun shines. He speaks more,

"Our brothers, the artful and poetic Greykin are not so pompous and land-lusted as the horse-blinded humans! Even if the Emperor thinks this way..

'On top of that, the fact that your people settle within the Ahun-Duren's borders shows me you have a lack of respect for sovereignty.'

I think not! We have settled upon their lands no more than the Legion has! They have even gone so far as to claim the burial site of thousands of our kind! Their boots tread upon the ground which our ancestors bones are kept! The human city on the lake, and the many forts built bordering the Greykin lands have been far more intrusive than our haven!

We are not an unreasonable people, we shall forfeit the city Goldrise as a sign of good faith! We choose to ally ourselves with the honor-bound peoples of the south! The poet king speaks of how their 'Kin have for centuries believe that the way to prove yourself is through the actions and merit of your deed.' Spoken like a true warrior! Spoken like a true king! Spoken like a true friend!"

The greykin ambassador is surprised at the intensity of the Ebbon's standing, moved by their passions, but also confused and wary. The elder continues,

"The Poet-King goes on to say,

'Our weaponry is not as strong as the Empire's mithril, as we find combat as an unnecessary evil, but it should be enough to get you by.'

This is the humble nature the humans have yet to acquire! This is what separates the Ivory tower from the Stone Walls of Poetry and Art! This is what separates the revering of nature by planting its wondrous creations and the rape of the war machine created by the power-hungry heathens!

We will stand by our long lost greykin brothers, we will destroy the Fellborn, we will survive, we will prosper, we will obtain victory!

Tonromai is pleased by the strength in the Ebbon's heart.

He orders his avatar to to pull any and all Acolyte of the Masks to the great city of Goldrise.

The Ebbon-kind begin learning from the greykin, and the greykin begin to learn from the Ebbon in turn.

The Ebbon know their place, and are sure not to step on any toes of their Krux-worshiping teachers, but they are proud to call them friend.


Command Avatar to Command Order (Alcolytes) to move out of the human cities and into Goldrise 1 Point

The rest was for RPing only ;D

I hope you enjoyed the Ebbon speech!

3 left, +3 for having under 5..
rolls for next turn, [roll4]

[Harvest]

OOC: Just to clarify, in case you weren't aware, not all of them were used as assassins... only a small percentage. The rest went on to live as ordinary citizens. Also, your leader sounds like a raving lunatic fascist, which makes me very nervous.

IC:

It had been some time, and the Emperor had given it thought. He still feels that the Ebbon are not ready for metal smelting for the use of war, however he feels that it would improve the quality of life for the average Ebbon citizen. Steel tools would make farming easier, and wood collecting possible. While very Distraught over the propaganda of the preacher of Goldrise, he's not one to make an enemy of them as of yet. He personally writes a parcel to the Ebbon leader.

"I've have decided to give your people the knowledge of Steel working. It is with my hope that your people will use this to better their lives, as steel tools will greatly ease the burden of the common man. With this, we can teach your farmers the proper ways of agriculture, so that your people may never go hungry. I am also willing to pledge a Legion to help train your troops basic drill, and to fight with you against a common foe which our people fought against as allies once before, and it would be shameful of us to not honor that now. If you so choose to accept, I can relay orders immediately."

With that, he finishes the letter with his signature, and the official seal, before pressing it with a wax seal. He hands it an aide and then turns his attention to pile of papers on his desk. They were all pressing matters of concern. A well containing disease in a large village here, a fire devastating a section of town there. Each requiring his full attention. It was his duty, and he feel compelled to serve his people. For six-thousand years it has been so. As usually, his dinner was served on a wooden plate, which sat to the side until his hunger pains he could bear no more. Usually, this was by the time it had gone cold. It wasn't uncommon that he would fall asleep at his desk.

Every 4th Lunz of the month, he would make rounds among the city and talk with his citizens to see if he could do anything to assist. Of course, they all had something to say. He would do his best to alleviate the problems of his people, but there are only so much resources he has at his disposal. Even though he was the son of a God, he was still mortal in many ways. He was tired.

During this time a technological breakthrough is made: Item Enchanting.

Advance civ: 5 points

4 points remaining

[Harvest]

Roll for next round [roll0]

[WARRRlock]

@Andrew: Map updated for Mythril deposit and new city.
@Sam: Goldrise changed hands on the map. My not have happened yet, but I'm putting it down now anyways. ^^

Annnnd roll for next turn [roll0]

The Greykin are pleasantly surprised by the passion of the Ebbon's stance, and for once, they begin to be a little relaxed around outsiders. Still a fairly seclusive people, and slightly hesitant to abandon their xenophobic ways, they begin to question their long standing animosity toward the Ebbon's.
The Kin open the trade borders to the Ebbons, bringing with them large shipments of blades and armament from Kreux, as well as a small contingency of master smiths along with the shipment. Also, fish and exotic fruits came from Taramanac and Maakun respectively, providing the Ebbon's with enough food to make the exodus to the east.

Krux is pleased with his people, he sees that they are learning to adapt to change. During this time, the Greykin expand their offshore territory eastward, to the Knollos Islands, a moderately tropical island where they discover large amounts of new flora and herbs that possibly have medicinal potential. They establish the island capital of Ald-Samic.

[Samfool]

4/20
Beginning Rolls!
You know the drill-
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

Fellborn take action! They build walls to defend themselves out of wood, rock, and flesh. Diseased barbs stick out of the wall, scratching anything with a poisonous wound who dares to scale it.

The Goldrise city is not yet taken, they must amass an army first!


The Ebbons have learned much from the Greykin. They soon learn how to smith the most basic of metals such as copper and tin. To much surprise and relief, the Human-Archon cities send metal-smiths to train them in the next step. They now know how to work iron into usable weaponry and tools.

Grateful to both of the nations, the Ebbon attempt to teach as much as they can about alchemy, but progress is slow. Teaching two nations the art of a newly-founded medicine is difficult to do. They learn more by teaching than they do by training themselves. The Masked Ones lead the teachings.

The Ebbons are now honor-bound to push foreward, determined to become strong enough to destroy the wretched Fellborn. Soon, the Councilmen of the Ebbons write up a formal apology to the humans for their deeds, their faith in their conquest is now shone, and the Ebbons are eternally grateful to all races involved.

Amueil smiles upon the races,

His gratitude shows in the form of a stone.

This is no ordinary stone, this stone accesses part of the knowledge stored in the god's psyche. The privileged races may ask one question, only one question. This is granted to the Humans, Archons, and Greykin as one. They must work together in this decision.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, in the woodlands west of the two nations, the Minos are growing strong and powerful. They begin expanding their reach to the fringes of their protective woods. They create the city of Kurton on the north side of the mountain range they call "The Shield". It protects them from the cold coming from the north, and now holds their newest establishment. They learn how to survive in the new lands, adapting as the animals do.


Used allll my points
Advance Civ (5) Advanced Alchemy
Command Race (4) Create City
Event (7) Stone of Knowlege (Center of Goldrise)

[roll4]

[Harvest]

The Emperor acknowledged the Ebbon's apology, and forgives them, saying he understood why it was said. He also looks on curiously at the gift that has been presented. He could not think of anything to ask, and instead waits for the others to make suggestions first.

Also.

Empire scholars, taking from what was taught to them about Alchemy, new ideas come to there head. If Alchemy is the art of medicine, using observation, and experimentation to learn how to best to heal body, then why not apply the same principles to other things? The Scientific Method is born is born, and soon the field of Alkahestry* is born. Combining magic with this new scientific method to create a field that would breakdown materials, and reassemble them into new, and better ones. The ultimate goal of these mages was to discover the formula to create a material capable of acting as a universal magical catalyst, and extend life indefinitely. It was often called the Philosopher's Stone.

From this great breakthrough in thought and process, a new order is formed: The Brotherhood of the Stone. They act very secretively in their pursuit of the Philosopher's Stone.

The Empire, not seeing them breaking any laws yet, grants them charter for their guild.


Advance civilization twice 10 points
create order 6 points

[roll0]

*Alkahest was a theorized univeral solvent in Alchemy, during the middle ages. So that's why I'm using it to name my new field, since it breaks down and reassembles materials.

[WARRRlock]

The Poet-King rolls up the scroll and sets it down. He dismisses the messenger. The Humans had obviously insulted the Ebbons, based off the High Chancellor's speech. Yet when the Ebbons became angry, the Humans promptly backed down and offered what they had previously refuse. Was the Ardaic Empire afraid of the Acolyte of the Mask?

Maybe they should be.

Greykin in northern Faaltiera-Krux begin to notice strange lizard-like creatures roaming around the island, attacking their cattle. One group of Kin decided to capture and try to domesticate the beasts. It is successful, and the Greykin begin to appreciate the seemingly ferocious creatures. now these dinosaur-like creatures called Gnaars are trained as "guard dogs" and beasts of burden.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Another god appears! He claims he is the son of Krux and Narru, but that cannot be right... Can it?

Koth is born. His sphere is that of his mother and father, wild as his mother, emotional as his father, Koth is the god of rebellion and revelry. He comes in the form of a young man, the image of whatever the looker deigns most beautiful.

[roll0]

[Samfool]

Erick, you must advance your race to get mounts (like the warhorses)
Beginning Rolls
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]


Working on their military might, the Ebbons continue to learn at the feet of their masters in combat. The Greykin finish teaching the ways of steel working, and the Human-Archon armies begin to teach the militarily-naive Ebbons how to hone their battle skills. Their armies will be powerful and mighty. The Four Masks begin consulting the elders, and they bring forth the best of the best to combat the Fellborn. Where will the women and children go? Maybe the other races can help. Messengers are sent to each country, hoping to house their women and children while they make the journey to the wretched demon's lair.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Minos are stronger now, and their nation is advancing well..
They begin creating crude methods of animal training, honing their skills in wild mounts to further their reach into the world. They adventure to the north and the west, seeking more land..

Whats this? A city! There are others? Who might they be? The Minos' Chieftains decide to send messengers to the city with a simple goal, make a peaceful first contact. Their differences in languages was too much to bear. Maybe the Greykin can help? They are masters of language..

7 Points
Advance Civilization (Minos Wild Mounts) 5 points
Command Avtar, (Ebbon Create Army) 1 point
[roll4]+1+3

[Harvest]

Hundreds of people begin to go missing across the Turin. Little trace is left that can even remotely point in the direction of the perpetrators. The Empire's investigation reveals nothing of interest, however they keep on the cases, as they begin to talked about more and more, leading to a great worry among the people in the Empire.

Also, The Empire encounters a strange new race with the appearance of a half-man, half-bull. Their language was incomprehensible, so they left somewhat frustrated, but no open hostilities took place.

Archturus, fully aware of the relationship between Narru and Krux, but sees as more of a failure on his part. He had been too occupied with his children on Silorn, that he had forgotten to be a man to his wife. realizing this, he seeks to impress her. He combines the earth around swamps, the moss on rocks, the bark of trees, mixing them together into the shape of a large humanoid, covered head to toe in mosslike, green fur. Narru fills their veins with the sap of golden oaks, and breathes into their lungs the winds of the forest. It was then that the Atheln were born. Large, wise, thoughtful and slow moving creatures they were. They held and innate sense to guard the forest from all threats, and were loyal only to the forest and Narru, and sought no benefits of civilization, preferring to live off of nature as the rest of the animals, whom they felt more affinity for than the other humanoids.


6 points to create race
1 point left
[roll0]

[WARRRlock]

I forgot to add the 10 points from the previous to my recent roll. I now have 17. Just letting everyone know.

The emissaries sent to Kreux return to the Ebbon council with a letter addressed to the Head Councilman. It has the seal of the Poet-King on it, and read:

"While I understand the lodging of the children and women are important. I decline your request. The long standing animosity between my people and the Lost Kin is going to take a long time to forget. I fear bringing in women and children of the Lost Kin would cause paranoia and prejudice to take hold of our society, causing chaos and conflict between the two peoples. I wish no harm on either Ebbon, or Greykin. I would advise requesting safe haven in the Ardaic Empire, where the Ebbons are looked upon as less suspicious. Possibly on the eastern frontier, where they would be much easier for your warriors to return home to.

If the Ardaic Empire declines, I would recommend holding Goldrise as an Ebbon settlement.

May the grace and valor of your fallen brethren aid you in the coming fight."

The Poet-King is made aware of the threat to the Ardaic Empire for the first time. He is concerned, but does not know enough about the situation to act upon his suspicions. As the threat has not reached his borders, he turned his attention to other pressing matters.

Also during this period in history, we see the the Ahun-Duren monopoly on southern trade has expand and almost completely cover the southern seas. Thanks to a intellectual breakthrough in naval engineering, Greykin ships now have advanced their navigational charts, as well as tweaked their ship structure, making them much more stable on the open sea.

Ruling from The Throne deems it necessary to establish a Hand of Krux stronghold north of Maalkun, directly on the mainland. The stronghold was created in order to protect sea trade in the southern seas, serve as a refitting point for Greykin ships, and assert their footing a little more on the southern mainland. it is rumored among the Greykin that the creation of Stronghold Rhros was a direct order from the Poet-God Krux, although rumors can't always be trusted.

As the Greykin Empire thrives, a new outsider has come to the Ahun-Duren is search of followers. Koth, the God of Wild Abandonment, asserts himself into Greykin society, enchanting many youth in the cities of Kreux. His enthralled followers begin to argue against conventional Greykin society, and insist on taking the emotional momentum of the Kin to an almost absolute. Out of these followers Koth creates the Son's of Koth, (supposedly a direct mockery towards Krux's paternal ability.) The Son's of Koth argue that only in altered states of awareness can one truly be in touch with their own emotions, and begin to create a special substance know as "emmersia" out of wine, special mixtures of herbs, and an odd ingredient that only the Son's knew about. Emmersia is a hallucinogenic drug that produces feelings of extreme euphoria, and is extremely addictive. Many users admit they remember the voice of the god Koth speaks to them when they are under the influence, but they never have any idea what was said when they become sober. The Kruxmentarii realize it is a threat, but they're undermanned as it is, but due to the rising addiction rates, action will soon have to be taken.

The first batches of Emmersia to arrive in the Ardaic Empire are smuggled out on rafts to the mainland, where they are carried by Gnaar to Corgion. Corgion becomes their major outpost for Emmersia sales.

Create order 6
Advance Civ 5
(should I start rolling for Koth too, or should I just do what seems natural? Opinions?)
Next turn... [roll0]

[Samfool]

Create order 6
Advance Civ 5
(should I start rolling for Koth too, or should I just do what seems natural? Opinions?)
Next turn... [roll0]


Do what feels natural.


Begining Rolls:

[roll0] Yes!
[roll1] The world/lesser gods!
[roll2] Leeot!
[roll3] Bad!

The sun shone down upon the cursed Fellborn, piercing the city walls of bone, animal flesh, and wooden spires. The light reaches the demon-kin, it reaches their cold and broken hearts.. his rays warm their death hearts. He awakens them, gives them a choice. Not all of them choose the path of light, but many do. They leave the haunted halls, venturing further north, into the chilling embrace of the north. The fire from their god will grant them the strength to survive.

Gos will not stand for this! He will have them destroyed!

..This. Means. War.

[Samfool]

The denial of the Greykin for sanctuary for their defenseless is disturbing. Hopefully the humans will be kind to the ones who have no stake in war. They do know battle after all..

The Elders and the Masked Ones approach the Emperor with the proposition "House our weak and defenseless, out of the goodness of your hearts."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Minos are confused with the humans nasally sounding speech. They sound like mice compared to the guteral sound of the Minos. They pray to their idol, the Great Horned One. He was their first chief, the first to bring the clans together into one collective. Each clan was allowed to keep their name, but they must answer to the Crowned One. The leader of the tribes, but not the controller. He wears the horns of the previously dead Crowned Ones. This makes his headdress hard to move about, but his combat headdress is smaller, more compact.

Their battle-hardened nature molds them into a warring tribes, honing their skills in combat. This has always been, but now they see the organized military of the previously-unknown humans. They soon leave the human lands and begin building a fort on the outskirts of the woods to protect themselves. They need to organize the same way the humans did.. their nature prevents this from happening however. They must come up with another tactic..

Command Race to Create Fort- 4 Points

[roll0]

[Harvest]

"I see no reason not to grant your people asylum here, I have a perfect spot for you to squat on. It's about 40 square miles of farmland. All that I ask is that a portion of the crop harvested goes to my stores. The rest is yours to feed your people. I feel that this is a fair deal, until your people have found your own land to settle." The Emperor says to the leader of the Ebbons.

-------------------------

The Minos left the Empire's borders. No ground was gained, and the language barrier prevailed. The Emperor decides to ask a favor of the Greykin. He pens a request to the Poet-King.

"Friend,

I ask for you help. We have recently come in contact with a new race. They are very large, and could quite possibly be very dangerous. In that regard, we humbly request your expertise on language to help us in forming relations with these people, so as to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.

-Adrial."

During this time, a new city emerges Southeast of Ceserna, touching the coast of the gulf, named Morwyn.

-a developmental leap in Alkahestry is made throughout the Empire. Soon, many new materials are being made, often supplementing Alchemy with it's healing arts.


command avatar to build city: 1 point
Advance race: 5 points

4 points left.

2d6+8



OOC: Humans no longer exist, remember lolz.

[Harvest]

Roll for next turn
[roll0]

[WARRRlock]

The Greykin warrior elite assemble at Stronghold Rhros, the Greykin fort on the Southern Coast. This is part of a shadowy recruitment campaign lead by the Kruxmentarii (the priesthood of Krux). In the front of the Throne, on the island of Faaltiera-Krux was a stone tablet. Erected during the cold season the previous year, the mysterious tablet was an invitation.

"You of the Faith.
You of the Word.
You of the Spear.
Rider. Warrior. Scholar. Son.
Children. I have need of you.
When winter chill arrives again.
To Stronghold Rhros.
The Call has been made.
There will be no going back."

The words on the stone were whispered across Ahun-Duren. From the fishing villages of Taramanac to the northern coast of Faaltiera-Krux, faithful warriors, channellers, and hunters heeded the call. As they arrived at the Stronghold, they were met by the Golden Hand, the seasoned veterans of the Hand of Krux, as well as the Poet-Kings personal bodyguards. The Poet-King had left the Throne. He was at Rhros.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Poet-King ascended to the balcony. The Stronghold's inner sanctum was filled with the greatest of Greykin adventurers, warriors, and Drift warpers. Raising his arm to silence the murmuring crowd, the God-King lifted his hand. The crowd became silent.

"So you have come.

I speak to you, not as your king, but as your god.

There comes a time when a father must let his youngling stand on his own. There will come a time when my powers will falter. The Era of Gods will end. Archturus, Amuiel, Gos... even I will fade from this world. The other races have no knowledge of this, and with these words in your mind, you become the guardians of a terrible secret, a secret which binds you all together. There will be no turning back.

To this, a few murmurs in the crowd, a few nervous glances.

I summoned you here for a purpose. For I will not leave my children unprotected. As I worked from beyond your sight, you must continue on my legacy. You will become Grey Order.

As diplomats, you will use your words to the Kin's advantage. As warriors, you will protect our lands and the spirit of the Kin. As hunters, you will silence those who dare to do my children harm. You will be my firsts. The eldest of my children.

In the middle of the sanctum stood an arch. With a snap of the Poet-King's fingers, a bright purple flame arose from the center of the arch.

"There is no turning back. The first step of your true life begins as soon as you enter the flame."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With that, the Grey Order was born. A shadow element of Greykin society, they are spoke of in rumors. They're duty is to the preservation of the Greykin race, and operate inside and outside of Ahun-Duren. Their initiation into the Order is shrouded by mystery. Rumor is that many initiates do not survive the joining ordeal. Those who do are marked for life, their natural abilities are bolstered, but they suffer from diminished life spans. Their "official" base of operations is Stronghold Rhros, although even there the Order is not often seen by visiting eyes.

During this time the Son's of Koth become more and more powerful in the Northern provinces, the eastern coasts of Ahun-Duren are littered with emmersia caves. The Son's also begin to directly oppose the teachings of Krux, by means of sabotage and desecration of holy sites. The Grey Order is sent to wipe out these upstarts, but progress is slow and many lairs are overlooked.

Meanwhile, a shadowy figure arrives at the Ivory Tower of the Archons. In his hand is an unmarked message, written in response to the requests for translators. The messages states that not only will the Greykin send their finest translators, they will also bring offerings of peace to the Minos to cement their goodwill towards this unusual race.

As far as the relation to other races go, word spreads quickly of the sanctuary offering to the Ebbons by the Archaic Empire, and of the Ebbon's drastically changing opinion on the Greykin. As a result, racial tensions begin to rise, and while the Poet-King issues no mandate of isolation, many groups inside the Ahun-Duren begin pushing for firmer foreigner laws. However, since the Kin's laws on foreigners is as tight as a virgin, many of these groups are denied appeal at the Throne.

Create Order 5
Command Order 2
[roll0]

[Samfool]

Beginning Rolls!

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

[Harvest]

The Archons are overjoyed with the news that eh Greykin would assist them. They organize a party to venture into the lands of the Minos, to initiate proper dialog. With them is the Emperor himself, who has deemed this extremely important to the Empire.

So, The Emperor, his honor guard, scribes and scholars, and of course, the Greykin ambassadors, all traveled northwest, into the lands of the Minos.

[Samfool]

The Minos scouts see the Archons and their grey-colored friends who they assume are simply part of their race. They send a messenger with the customary feather of peace, and present it to the Archons. They of course do not understand this custom, but the scout is persistent. He does not let them pass beyond the fort, and does not allow them to leave. He waits of course for the Great Chieftain to arrive with his many warriors and battle-scholars.

The Archons see them, a small army of beaslty-looking half-bulls. They are covered in thick spots of armor over a thinner scale armor. They grunt and screech, making all manners of noise, and at first, the Archons prepare for a fight. Soon, the Great Chieftain emerged from the ruckus, and met the head Archon. They seemed peaceful..

The talks are slow to start, but somehow the grey "men" as they call themselves make the process smoother. Their language is much more subtle than the Minos', and many things are lost. The deliberate grunts and huffs are hard for the men to grasp, but it is possible. The Minos have to closely examine each word in order to speak Archoni tongue.

They make much progress on this day, and the Minos present one of their finest possessions, their own. They offer one of their sons in exchange for one of the Archoni sons. They present the same offer to the "Greymen" as they soon begin to call them. This way, each could learn about each other, then come home and inform their respective homelands.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Ebbon war drums sounded, the warchanters shouted their songs, and the illusionists put a message in the sky; "Yu Moi'nu Tumada, Yu Moi Ludago" loosely translating to "For Your Honor, For Our Glory" in Archoni.

They are ready, and they will destroy the wretched Fellborn. They are ready, and they will end the reign of Gos. They are ready, and they will gain the honor the Archoni and Greykinic peoples have.

They begin their march, the Ebbons will be victorious, and then they will collect their women and children, making a new home elsewhere.

Next round I will roll for the War
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The pulsating voice of Amuiel burst from the great stone places in Goldrise.

"ASK YOUR QUESTION, IT HAS BEEN TOO LONG."

[Harvest]

As the Archons waited, they began to feel uneasy. Language barriers can be such the pain. It nearly caused a battle to be faught, but luckily, Archon discipline kept everyone peaceful, but still anxious. The majority wanted this to be over, but they knew the importance of this prevented them from just leaving.

Finally, the Minos leader appeared. The Greykin's use shined, and although there was difficulty in the translations, understanding was achieved.

The Minos' offer was that of a hostage exchange. The would take one of their children, and they would take one of the Archon's children, so as to learn more about the other.

Adrial agreed. An exchange would be a good start. The Greykin translated his words:

"Yes, let us exchange. For we both grow from this."

As he said this, he present the Minos leader with a gift. A mithril bastard sword, of the finest make. The blade etched with Archonic runes. The grip made from an ancient oak, harder then iron, and wrapped in the finest leather. The sword was one from his own personal collection of blades.

[WARRRlock]

The Minos's offer of a child is greeted with fervor by the Greykin "emissaries." The emissaries, really Children of Koth acolytes who intercepted the message from the Emperor, replacing the Ahun-Duren messenger with one of their own. Along with the Greykin child, the Greykin offer another gift: a caravan full of the finest wine in Ahun-Duren. The Children continue to comply with the Empire's requests, establishing a connection between the Archons and Minos, but they also being to wheedle their way into friendship with the Minos on a closer level than the Archons, a benefit the Children held over the Archons, being able to break the language barrier much easier.

While no real signs of aggression or deception, the Archons are happy with their dealing with the Minos. The Children begin ever so discretely hinting to the Minos the... flaws in the Archons and their Imperial "might."

The wine brought by the Children's caravans is spiked with Emmerisa.

OOC: @Andrew, remember that there has been no sign of disturbance yet, so try not to play like you know what is happening. For some reason I feel like I should mention that, I mean no offense.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Ahun-Duren, another situation is stirring, as the disappearances of Greykin near the borders of Ahun-Duren and the Empire continues, prompting a response from the Grey Order, who are sent to investigate the disappearance.

The Throne also commissions Greykin explorer and sends them towards the eastern ocean of water, tasked to map the area and bring back any oddities that they may run into. A new port town known as Ahul is established located southeast of the Archonic city of Morwyn to refitting and offer lodging for eastern adventurers. It also ensures the grasp of Ahun-Duren remains unchallenged in the southern coast.

[Samfool]

The Ebbon's drums pounded in their minds, the war chants reverberated in their hearts. This is their moment of glory, this is their time, and victory is so close that they can taste it. Soon, the shouts stop, the march of the Ebbons comes to a halt. The elder, who is leading this assault along with his generals and war chiefs, says a few words;

"This is it." he starts, his old, trembling body is barely enough to keep him standing. A few guards helped him up, but they dare not try to assist him in standing on his own two feet. That is considered a great offence in Ebbon culture. The Elder speaks softly, but his illusion magic makes his words heard throughout the army, "This is our moment. The time of the Ebbons has arrived! We shall kill these wretched Fellborn, and then take our place amongst the other High Races! Let us take up arms, mask our presence, and show these damned demons what we can do!"

There are no words to describe the spectacular show of lights, colors and sounds. The Ebbons were insured a victory, or they will all perish trying.


Ebbon's Roll
[roll0]

Fellborn's Roll
[roll1]

What modifiers do we have?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Mino's religious leader, the Head Shaman took particular interest in the wine, he felt as though it 'opened his mind' and 'freed his soul'. The Great Chieftain did not partake. He saw it as dulling the senses, restricting the warrior's mindset, not enhancing it. Soon, there were tensions between the Shaman and the Great Chieftain. They began arguing about how the tribe should progress. The Chieftain said any and all outsiders should stay as such, outsiders. The Shaman said that they should accept them into their homes, for they are allies, not enemies.

As for the attempt at building tension between the Minos and the Archons, the only ones who would commune with the Koth-worshipers were the Shaman-aligned Minos. The ones who sided with the Chieftain would have nothing to do with what they called the "Grey'd Ones".
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amuiel's mind.. it is plagued by what he calls "The Beast". It is the Mask of Anger, Fury, Revenge. It has consumed him, made him into the beast that he is. The Ebbons feel this, he still has an intense connection with them. They are tortured by this rage, this intense need for revenge. It will destroy them if they do not destroy it first..

"GOS MUST PAY FOR WHAT HE HAS DONE TO MY PEOPLE"

The Fellborn will die by their hand. He knows it.

[WARRRlock]

Lets take a look see at our advancement chart! (Only adding up advancements that could be involved in Warfare)

Metallurgy:
Ebbons: Steel (3)
Fellborn: Steel (3)

Military Tactics:
Ebbons: Basic (2)
Fellborn: Basic (2)

School of Illusion:
Ebbons: Advanced (4)
Fellborn: Rudimentary (1)

School of Alchemy and Medicinal Arts
Ebbons: Basic (2)
Fellborn: No knowledge

School of Engineering:
Ebbons: Rudimentary: (1)
Fellborn: Basic (2)

Add with combat rolls:
Ebbons: 16
Fellborn: 9

Total:
Ebbons: 28
Fellborn: Completely ****ed.
Winner: Ebbons!

The wardrums of the Ebbonic army beat, vibrating throughout the Fell Peaks. The host of Ebbons have arrived at the Fallen Pass, the entrance into the dark territory of the Fellborn. Once a normal mountain range, the land itself has been twisted by the taint of Gos's dark powers, rendering the land sickly, a monument to the evil that lurked within the the mountains... A hulking mass of black stone; a large fortress comes into view... Viso-Rath is now in clear view of the army.

After the elder has spoken, the Acolyte of the Mask prepare themselves for battle. The lights were silences, the pass was covered in a shroud. Amuiel's anger channeled through them, making them hunger for the blood of their enemy. Unnatural mist fell on the Peaks. Hanasi Atmaci, units of three to five Ebbons, began to scout ahead and indicate enemy positions.

The rest of the warriors prepare by channeling energy from the drift into their armor and bodies. A small group of elders stand in the back of the host, standing silently with their hands in the air. They are clearly the ones responsible for the fog. A spark of light is seen flying about the fortress, indicating the way in, and the Ebbons begin their assault on Viso-Rath.

The entrance had already been cleared by the scouting team, a few Fellborn guards lie on the ground, pools of blood spurting from the knife wounds in their chests. Unit after unit of Ebbons spilled into the fortress, silently eliminating the Fellborn. By the time that the Fellborn realize they are being attacked and organize, less the one half of their population remains, the rest slaughtered at their feet. The Fellborn make a last stand at Viso-Rath, but the Ebbons easily pick away the unorganized and weakened defenders. Blood is plentiful in the halls of the Fallen, and for miles the howls of the Fellborn can be heard... Slowly, the howling lessens... and then there is silence.

A cheer broke the silence. Then another. Soon, the valley was filled with the voices of Ebbons, celebrating.

Victory.

[Harvest]

With the conclusion of the dealings with the Minos Tribal Band, the Emperor returns to Turin. He doesn't rest for long, as the Empire is forever in need. A week after his return, Emperor Adrial appears before a large crowd of Archoni Citizens, eager to hear their Emperor. He motions his hand, and the roar of the crowd is silenced. The Emperor finally speaks.

"Citizens of the Empire, I thank you for your time. I come before you with a great proclamation. Today marks the start of the Frontier Expansion Initiative. Under this initiative, any citizen who wishes to move east to the Empire's frontier can register with the Office of State Affairs. Upon registering, the applicant is assigned 40 acres of land and a seven-hundred-fifty Trien grant. Citizens, make note, this grant can only be used to purchase items that can be used in the development of the land." he pauses for a very brief moment "Grant Triens will be specially marked." He says obviously targeting the less than honorable citizens. "Citizens who register for this program are expected to work the land they are given for a minimum of twenty years."

He pauses for a moment to let the crowd take it in. Many of the poorer plebs begin to cheer. Finally, a chance to get out of the slums. Some of the more entrepreneurial Patricians see great opportunity in this program. A way for them to advance further, and maybe even become a Patriarch! The Crowd begins to rise in noise. The Emperor motions his hand, and once again, the crowd is silenced.

"I also wish to announce that the Legion shall be constructing many new roads to the east to aid in trade, and development. Guard stations will be built to increase the ability of the highway patrol. The Legion will also be assisting in the construction of new frontier cities. Three new Legion fortresses will be constructed to secure the Frontier into a safe place for Citizens.

On top of this huge construction effort, I am most please to announce the construction of a mass aqueduct system. This system will bring water from the newly formed Aquemons, bestowed upon us by Archturus, to the surrounding land, that will certainly be in desperate need of freshwater.

These massive projects will require many hands to complete. Any citizen willing to work can register for a job at the Office of State Affairs.

Furthermore, I have also instructed the Cesernian Lancers to increase it's recriutment to include plebians, so as to meet their primary mission of guarding the frontier."

"On a final note: I would like to speak about the Bullmen of the west. I have personally had talks with these people, and they are honorable. There should be no problems between us and them. This should be enough to abate the fears of our traders and travelers. It is very likely that trade deals will be formed in the near future."

The Emperor smiles and raises his hand in a salute to the crowd. He makes and about face, and elopes back to the palace. His Paladin guards ever watchful. The Crowd slowly disperses.


http://img844.imageshack.us/img844/7571/ahrin.png

Note: The Cities are forts are not there yet/finished, that's just where they are going to be.

[Samfool]

The Ebbons are elated for their victory! The Elders have come together in order to decide where they will start their new empire. They must move their women and children somewhere, and the Assassins can protect the boarders. They have decided on the southern tip of the mountain range the blasted Fellborn once lived. They vowed to never let the bastards leave, they were the Ebbon's greatest enemy, and their greatest victory. They are part of the world now, they are one of the Great Races!

The Elders send messengers to both the Archons and the Greykin, both of them with the same message that the Fellborn are dead, and that the Ebbons claim the land east of the Mountains. They will start their empire there, and expand no further East for respect of the Archons, so long as they respect the boarders they have set up.

They establish their new city, Silver's Hill. The Ebbon craftsman make makeshift yurts at first, but after a while, they begin to make them more sophisticated. Soon, they have a pleasant looking city, and begin building a castle on top of one of the many smaller hills on the end of the range. The yurts are centered around it, and two wooden walls are erected around both the castle, and the surrounding town. The farmers seek out fresh lands to establish their own lives, many of them former soldiers.

The army is instructed to spread out and search for any more Fellborn in the immediate area and eliminate them. They are then told to scout about the boarders in order to protect the new found Empire.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Minos Great chief is ready to eliminate the Immersia-obsessed Minos Berserkers from their tribes. The Head Shaman is told to meet the Great Chief in the Great Hall for a meeting. The Head Shaman's head Priests and the Immersia-dealing Greykin marched into the halls throwing flowers and food to all the spectators. They are laughing and having a merry time, playing instruments, but it is seen as an offence in the Great Chief's eyes. He sits in his fury as the Head Shaman marches in wearing nothing but a string of flowers attached to his horns. Some chuckled, but they were silenced by the unnerving humming of the off-key Minos. They were on the drug, and everyone knew it. The Head Shaman bounced up to the Great Chief and bowed to him. The Great Chief has had enough, he nods to the soldier off to the side. The soldier stands and grabs the Shaman by the horns while the Chief throws off his headdress. He lifts his axe far above his head, shouting in Minos tongue "THIS ENDS NOW!" He brings the mighty axe down upon the back of the outstretched neck of the Head Shaman. The axe tears through the hide of it's target and cuts clean through to the other side. Everyone in the room is appalled, and the soldiers are on edge. The soldier with the Shaman's head throws it to the Chief who drops his axe and snatches the head by the horns. He screams as he holds the head above his own. He shouts to kill every other Minos on Immersia. The civil war was on. The Minos were at arms.

[WARRRlock]

To the High Tribune of the Kruxmentarii

I write to report the success of my current objective. In Maalkun I boarded one of the Talivoth-Anu Clans mercantile vessels, under the guise of a seafarer looking for work. At the time this letter was written, I have arrived at Ald-Samic, where we a re-stocking and recruiting locals for an upcoming expedition. The Talivoth-Anu, as expect, are continuing with their plan of eastern expansion. The Talivoth-Anu feel that they can beat the Archonic Empire to the eastern shores by exploiting the Southern Coasts and establishing trading outlets as they expand. They have enlisted Kin of all trades, from craftsmen to mercenaries - all with the promise of great reward at minimal risk. I fear that not to be the case, however- something my fellow hirelings fail to realize.

Recently, rumors have been spreading in Maalkun. I have a very strong feeling that our southern expansion (as well as the Frontier Expansion Initiative that Esteemed-Lord Adrial recently proclaimed to his people) will not go unchallenged.

Sailors tell tales of strange men to the east of our waters, huge, barbaric looking men- much similar to the Archoni, in most aspect... but rougher and of a much different ilk than our Imperial neighbors. My speaking with the head of the local Hand of Krux branch reveals that recently, small scouting parties by Maalkun officials have been sent to observe and take note of the eastern lands. Little to no information has been garnered, as many of the scouting parties have not returned. Those who HAVE returned report their finding of large settlements hugging the interior of the Southern Reach Mountain Range. The description give leads me to conclude that these settlements are not the work of the Archons, Ebbons, or any other state we know of. The returning scouts chose to exercise caution with these settlements, which, I can only assume is the reason they survive.

These mysterious mer are hostile, territorial, and efficient- to say the least.

I cannot reveal this information to the Talivoth-Anu; least they realize what I am not a simple seafarer. Gathering attention to my post this close to the border would be detrimental. Of course, I leave it into the hands of the Tribune as to whether the Talivoth-Anu Clan should be informed or not, or if the expedition should continue at all. However, if it does, I humbly request one or two additional Brothers.

May the Wilting Rose guide your hand,
Sentinel Meloth Maalkun-Vorros
Twenty-Third Brethren of the Silverguard

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Tribune of Kruxmentarii- the council of High Priesthood, silently watches as the messenger finally rolls away the message. With a swift bow, the young courier exits the room, leaving only the fifty three priests.

There is long pause. Suddenly, the room bust into life, each priest struggling to give their opinion all at the same time. The bickering and debating went on for several minutes, until suddenly, a young priestess (one of the newest members of the council) stand and bows in the direction of the hooded figure silently perched in the middle of the council- the Archfather. The voices dim.. and then die.

"Archfather, I, Matron Ano Ahul-Verrimethi humbly request your permission to speak."

An ancient hand emerged from the robes and gestures the Matron to continue.

"Giving up our control in the southern shores would be detrimental to Ahun-Duren. If we simply halted the expedition, Ahun Duren would be locked out of the innerland by the expanding Archonic Empire. As our alliance stands, our states have civilly avoided each others expanding borders- partially in fear of conflict if the borders interlace. We must not allow that to happen! The innerland has resources that our islands lack, resources that fuel our nation- if we allow the Empire to control those, I can envision that years from now, our Sons and Daughters will be under the rule of a foreign power... Even the grace of Krux may not be enough to protect us. "

The priests are mostly silent now. Some are nodding their head in agreement. The Archfather raises his hand, and says in a dry, solemn voice, "We shall see." With that, he rises and exits the chamber- an indication that he has gone to speak with the Poet-King. The Tribune moves on to the next issue.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why couldn't you see them?"
The wizened old Kin kneels before the silent God-King. It is dark, and the candles surrounding the Throne's Sanctum flicker- constantly dancing to a wind that does not exist.

"When we created our children, we gave them the choice, as many guardians do. Some of our children chose to leave us. It is saddening, but the choice was theirs to make, and the choice to believe and choose for oneself is a gift that Archturus, Amuiel, and I could not bear to take away.

"They are like us?"

The half man, half god raises his eyebrow at the old priest. The Archfather has served him well for many years and will soon be departing to the Meadow of Tears, Krux's domain.

"Yes... and no. These people have severed their connection to their patrons an makers. The Kin are Kin because you are of Krux, the Archons are Archons because they are that of Archturus, and the Ebbons are Ebbons because they are of Amuiel.

The Gods cannot see them, for they are lost to us. Even if they had been under the patronage of another god we would have been able to see them- yet these mer are not,

which only mean one thing.

They are one of the Triumvirates creations.