Total War: Rise of Kingdoms IC

[GameOfChampions]

Madness is rare in individuals, but in groups, parties, nations and ages it is the rule."- Friedrich Nietzsche

Madness is coming to Hanrui once more, nations are rising with powerful individuals at their head. The boundaries between nations are growing and the old rules are being thrown to the wind as this new age comes upon us... this age of war.

The Balance Tips

Deep beneath the main fortress of the Legion of Balance the women who has been known as Lady Lightcleaver slowly walks forwards into a massive cavern with only one thing in front it, shedding everything she has been for the last year including her very identity.

A massive intricate statue of a women holding scales what seems to be a glowing free form ball of light on one side and a deep terrifying ball of darkness on the other. The statue seems almost life like in it's appearance as she approaches.

The women who has been been known as Lady Lightcleaver is acompannied by a stout Dwarven priest who has never before witnesses this ritual and is watching silently from outside the cavern.

She approaches the statue and as she reaches it she goes down on her knees with her head down and arms held out in front of her as if reaching for something. The statue creaks and shatters to show an ethereal women beneath who holds up the scales and says only one word. A word that echoed with power. A word that echoed throughout the realm. A word that could change everything for the women prostrate in front of her.

"Balance"

The scales begin to tip one way and then the other. Many images flash deep within the ball of light; A fleet of Paladins unloading thousands of well armed faithful, a collection of species linked only by their minds as they raise a three sided pyramid, a church in the desert praying for the salvation of their unbreakable people, an ancient elf bent deep over the corpse of an ancient evil with students watching him work, and a happy gnome biting on an ancient coin of gold. The ball of darkness reveals even less images though; a Balor leading dozens of Legion Devil's among a helpless caravan, blood pacts sworn in a city as assassins target the unwary, a coven of Witch-Priests sacrificing a withered old slave who had dreamt of freedom, and a hooded necromancer raising spirits by the dozen to seek vengeance on the living.

The women rises, not Lightcleaver any more, but as Rivva Darkseeker and glows with an all consuming darkness as the statue settles back into its stone form, before the light and shadows fade the eyes glow black and pulses. Sending a massive wave of shadow over all the Legions of Balance She turns to the dwarf and and says a terse sentence, shadow leaking from her eyes.
"Rally the troops we have balance to fight for."


The Heart of Evil

Arcturus leans over the withered old husk of an Efreet, his colleagues had bound and killed it a century ago. Its body kept... mostly preserved until today when Arcturus needed it. He was researching the powers of evil aligned flames. It was the tool of so many evil doers, monsters and humanoids alike. If he could find a commonality among the flames of evil then maybe he would be able to develop some new spells to resist them of vanquish them entirely. He clicks his tongue, he really had put off this dissection to long. The body was barely capable of creating a spark, let alone the powerful flames he needed to test on.

The powerful Archmage glances at the summoning circle in his lab and decides, he would clearly need a live specimen. Dumping the remains of the dead Efreet into the disposal portal he works on the summoning. Only fifteen minutes later a powerful Efreet is before him, ignoring the temptations of power and wishes he circles it. Examining the flames billowing out, 'Yes this will do nicely.' Strapping it to the table with specially enchanted Frost Cold Iron manacles the old elf hums as he begins his work.

It really was hard to focus with all that screaming, honestly it was a being of fire not flesh and blood. It really shouldn't be this worked up over a silly little heart, it would survive without it... probably. Either way he had what he needed. Leaving the Efreet to scream and thrash as much as it was able the venerable wizard wanders into the next room where he proceeds to start up several diagnostic spells.

Only a few hours later the spells finished and he was happily working on his new spell, Arcturus' Enhanced Protection from Evil Fire. The name could be work shopped but what he needed now was a new project.

He hadn't done work on the undead recently...


Sin to Win

Izoran tosses his skull chalice at one of the undead servants in the grand hall how was holding his meeting in. Zezzuzen rolls her eyes and levitates the skull back to the massive Pit Fiend "You aren't going to be able replace that you know. There aren't a lot of Arch Necromancers laying around and any other skull would lose that delicious necromantic spice."

Izoran rumbles and glares at the succubus bit doesn't throw it again "Well what would you propose then Zezzuzzen. We can't open a gate while we're being invaded on several fronts"

It had been a poor month for the Pit Fiend, an entire battalion of skeletons had been ambushed by Legion forces and annihilated them. Then in the middle of the desert these clockwork people had emerged from hiding which meant another border needed to be watched. Then the Jade Wizard had been starting to probe them and test their defenses.

The lithe succubus gets up and struts over to the Pit Fiend, draping herself over his shoulders to whisper in his ear. "The answer is simple my dear, you've millennia of experience and clawed your way to the top of heap in more dangerous lands then this Hanrui."

She flashes illusionary images in front of the Fiend; Legion fortresses full of dead, Jade Wizard spitted on a pike, clockwork soldiers broken and burning. "We do what we've always done my dear... destroy all who stand in our way with sword and hellfire until we can take what we need from the ashes."

The Pit Fiend looks up from the images and slowly a brutal slash of a grin opens up on his face "This is why I keep you around Zezz. Now call the troops together I've got things to do."


The Fire Cometh... Again

Reports flood across Hanrui, whispers among courts throughout the world. A large shadow stretches over the lands as powerful Red Dragon shakes the air, leaving smoking ruins of villages in his wake for the Kobold Tribes to follow. It is whispered the line of Pyresoul once more returns to Hanrui, looking for the remains of its ancestor and vengeance upon the land. Prideful and arrogant it will only talk to the most influential of the nations there, burning the rest as poor inheritors to his ancestors lands.

Rep 3+*
(If you don’t have Rep stat equal or higher than 3, don’t open spoiler below)
A young dragon has come to search these lands again. Inspired by the legend of his ancestor, The Pyresoul, and the empire he forged in these lands the ambitious young dragon has come to leave his mark on these lands as well. Looking for a powerful nation to join with the Young Dragon only wants to join the most prestigious and famous of nations to stroke his own vanity and reputation. Zeilrae the Victorious has arrived for war with several of his vassal kobold tribes.

If you can read this you can also message the leader and interact with them.


Across the World Stage

Nations all around the world are invested in what occurs here, powerful allies to be made or enemies to be made wary of. Hanrui seems to be the fertilizer for new world powers to rise from and the powers that be are watching to see who will enter the world stage first, throwing around the weight of growing influence and reputation as a nation that has made it in these deadly and rich lands.

The nations watch to see who uses their Rep best this turn. Whoever has the most impressive Rep actions wins the competition. Rep actions can be normal ones such as taking a territory, attacking an enemy stat, or raising a stat of your own. It can also be Long Term projects or any random idea you have. This will be 60% actions and 40% roleplaying so ham it up! If you have a high Rep stat that isn't an automatic win! :smalltongue:

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 5
Reputation 6

Look well, and mark not flesh and blood
With flame or steel: throw away odium,
Prejudice, fear, and baseless scorn,
For you have but mistook us all this while:
We live with bread like you, feel want,
Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus,
How can you say we are the monsters?

- Extract from Armistice, apocryphal goblin poem

https://i.ibb.co/sR36CTR/Oprak.jpg


We Who Would Make Honour A Virtue

The flames flickered low among the braziers of the council chamber, wrapping its more ostentatious features in gentle orange shadows. Nine pillars of dark stone - their surfaces reflecting the warm glow like varnished mirrors - stood around the proceedings, the space between them forming an almost invisible circle that bound all of the participants to this place. Each of the pillars rose and joined each other somewhere in the pitch dark above. There, Bruthazmus knew, lay some of the most treasured work of his people. But this was no time to get lost in reverie - not now, when the work was not yet done.

With clawed fingertips, the bugbear attendant gently adjusted his crystal spectacles so that they rested properly on his nose. Meanwhile, his left hand scribbled away desperately on a piece of parchment as he transcribed the furious debate that was occupying the chamber floor. Hazren - a seasoned warrior, and speaker for the Steel-Eater tribe - was busy orating to the Republic's assembly rather passionately. In fact, he was discussing a notion that Bruthazmus himself had put before the council not ten minutes ago.

"... a disgrace that we would even consider this! We would be baring our necks to foreigners, to filthy humans, if we were to open our doors this way. Submission is a sign of weakness, and make no mistake, this is submission!" Hazren's speech elicited a few thumps and nods of approval from around the room, the hobgoblin leader striking his chest twice before stepping down from the Highest Throne and taking his assigned seat.

Bruthazmus was not overly concerned at the objection's acclaim, however - he knew what was coming next. The mutterings around the chamber fell quiet as a second hobgoblin stood up from their chair and began to walk purposefully towards the raised obsidian dais at the heart of the space. General Azaersi stood tall on the Highest Throne, staring each member of the council down before ever speaking.

"Tribesmen and chieftains, peers all; our honoured Hazren is not incorrect. From a purely tactical point of view, we gain nothing if we undergo the course of action discussed here today. In fact, we would be risking the very security upon which our enterprise is based. However, I believe it to be worth the risk. This is not the old world, where we must hide in caverns or up in the mountains for fear of being hunted down like animals. Hanrui has opened her bounty to us, but we are not alone on this continent. There are allies to be won here, not simply enemies in the making. We should avail ourselves fully to the opportunities that diplomacy has to offer before defaulting to traditional methods." The commander in chief of the Republic's armies let each point sink in like a knife thrust, her fierce gaze resting particularly on the war hawks in the room. Her striking silhouette, long blade, and general's epaulets made her seem larger than she really was, but she wore them comfortably. For all of their functionality, they were still effective props, Bruthazmus conceded: she had taken the Keeper's advice to heart.

As he wrote, Bruthazmus let his attention fall on one more figure across the room. Kraelos, high priest to the Brothers in Arms and the co-architect of today's discussion, sat uncomfortably in his own stone chair. The barghest's figure was both old and warped almost beyond recognition of its previous shape, but the aged demon had long since proven that age was no metric of worth. Sensing someone watching, Kraelos turned rheumy orange orbs back at him, before giving a silent nod of affirmation. They both knew what today could mean. From her obsidian promontory, Azaersi finished her address.

"The Ironfang Republic was founded on the ideal of strength by cooperation. What is this if not the same plan, but writ large? My friends, there are many paths to victory. Let us show you one more."


The Invitation

The missives are sent out the next day. They are delivered in almost as many ways as there are destinations: goblin couriers leave the city of Oprak at dusk, traveling overland, while others find themselves in port villages and cities, chartering ships across the shore to distant lands. Messenger hawks are dispatched from roosts, traversing vast amounts of territory at tremendous speed. The word makes its way across mountains, through forests and over plains. Nothing can stop it. It arrives in cities of the bought and sold, in great temples to angelic exemplars, in the scorching deserts of the faithful. Every city in Hanrui gets the same message, bound in a very fine scroll with a red wax seal.

Salutations to the Kings and Prophets, to the Sages and Monsters, to all who would Rule,

We are the Ironfang Republic. Our emissaries approach you as a sign of the deepest respect. As you may know, we have arrived on this bountiful land of Hanrui some years ago, but we have witnessed the coming of many other esteemed groups such as yourselves. The Republic plans to make Hanrui a home to all goblins as well as those who have been hunted in the past, but we see no need to shed by blood what can be gained by words. Too long have our people known the taste of fear instead of friendship - with your help, that can end today.

During the winter solstice of the coming year, the Council of Clans responsible for governing our fair Republic has decided to open the doors of our capital of Oprak to representatives from across Hanrui. There, we will host what we hope will be the first of a series of inter-continental summits, with the aim of establishing policies for the mutual protection of these great lands. All will be welcome, no matter their background or provenance. As a sign of good faith, I will personally be in attendance, along with a great many of the Republic's elders and policy-makers.

Take your time in making your decision, but we trust that you will come to the conclusion that war is not the only way to build a future.

Kindest regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued
Secretary General of the Republic

I am offering up my VIP for REP for the turn to host a private meeting (via PM) to discuss potential alliances and deals for everyone who wants to send a VIP. If the DM is okay with it, I'd ask him to start a private Discord sub-channel on the chat for us to RP out the summit, as opposed to using GitP's message system for multiple people.

I am also staking several points of my REP for the turn as a sign of good faith (exactly how much depends on how many people say they are coming on the summit). If nobody shows up, my REP will go unused for the turn.

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

Captain Goldfinder looked over the different companies. The gnome generals of each brigade wore their smiles well. Goldfinder nodded. "Congratulations on your courage. Each of you has devised a great opportunity for the whole company and you shall be rewarded justly upon your return. We have opportunity here! Opportunity that shall not be squandered by cowards that hide behind their high walls. We will reach out and find what this land has to offer.

We shall conquer beasts that have never before been seen. We'll topple plans of destruction and world domination. We'll kick in, set off, sail through, stab, fireball, solve, sneak by, disarm, fly over, and get every bit of dungeon there is to have! And when we die, it'll probably be sudden and horrific, but we'll do it with a smile on our face!

Remember, their need for treasure necessitates their life of adventure. Treasure fuels our love for Adventure!"

He smiled and nodded. The wizards stepped towards the armies and began their casting. "Charm person! Charm person! Charm person!" It repeated itself until every explorer was smiling.

"Go forth and bring back stories that will last you for the rest of your lives!" They turned and marched.

"Paper, dad." Goldfinder turned and looked at his son. The orc was about four of him tall and had sick purple skin. The shield had the map of their journey carved into it. The axe had notches depicting some rudimentary key.

"Thanks, Grock." He took the scroll and broke the red wax seal. He scanned the document and looked up at Grock. "The Ironfang Republic is calling a meeting. They're proposing that the different factions meet and talk together. Ha! What morons. There's much too important work going on. We have to explore! Cut through the next door. Find the next room." Captain Goldfinder smiled and reflected on his own adventures as a youth.

"Dad! We need to meet with other leaders. This is a rare opportunity to spread our name and create allies."

"No son, that's dangerous thinking. We've got a good setup here. There's untold riches under our feet. Unspeakable evils. No reason to go off and speak with leaders from other countries about trying to fix inequality and making the world a better place."

"Please dad. Let me go and-"

"You go? Ha! No, you're just a boy. No, you'll lead our expeditions. You'll stand at the front lines of battle and map out the world."

"I'm almost thirteen dad. I'm not just a little kid anymore. I want to make the world a better place for everyone."

"No! You'll stay here.. You'll go exploring or adventuring and come back with new tales of glory and that's final!"

"I hate adventuring and I hate you!" Grock turned and ran away. His screams of rage echoed through the mist.

One of Captain Goldfinder's cousins saw the encounter and stepped forward. "Should we keep an eye on him?"

"God's no!" A single tear rolled down Captain Goldfinder's cheek. "My boy's gonna be a hero one day."

Two letters make their way across the lands. Once the letter is delivered the messenger stands smiling until dismissed. When opened, the letters release a puff of mist that lingers and a few lights that blink as the letter is read aloud by the voice of Captain Goldfinder.

Hello neighbor! The Goldfinder company would like to offer services to help you seek out and find that ancient manuscript or cursed ring that your evil plan if coquette requires. Terms are negotiable, but we have a standard rate of 3 mid tier caster scrolls, magic potions, poisons, or just gold for two of our expert navigators. As you are our closest neighbor, we offer you pick of dungeon between your and two of our own to lead your adventurers through.

While I thank you for your invitation, I see no benefit in trying to right perceived wrongs in the world. Instead let me counter offer. We would love to assist you in crashing into any Lairs of monsters that roam around your territory. We are extremely adept at this kind of thing. We offer the services of two guides for about 3 mid tier scrolls, magic poisons, bragging and tales, or just gold. Think of the glory you or one of your companions could gain. Drop all this silly nonsense with saving the world. Nothing good ever comes of it.

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal
[Morale 2]


It was the Festival of Askopar, and the Zephyr had never been one to decline an invitation. Every window and balcony in the city was left open for the warm and friendly wind, the chimes hanging from every frame-beaten out of picked locks and broken chains-filling Khasal with a pleasant melody. Taking full advantage of the wind, gliders and skysails raced off rooftops and tower balconies, joining flocks of feathered serpents and birds of paradise as they filled the sky.

Closer the ground, the celebrations only grew more densely packed. The Zephyr of Liberation despised chains of all kinds, and on the day the whole city was his temple any could be cast aside without thought of reprisal. Even aside from those celebrating repudiated debts, cancelled indentures and dissolved families, it was considered auspicious to publicly forgive slights and end vendettas-and the great and good of the city weren’t ones to reconcile without making a great display of it. And-more for reasons of practical convention than any theology-the Festival was the customary date celebrated as a birthday by the senile, street children and all the otherwise abandoned. The City was, then, full of people with plenty of reasons to celebrate.

As with all other fields of life, the Free City turned a celebration into a competition. On every plaza and across the side of all the grandest buildings artists strove to outdo each other in representing one of the Zephyr’s aspects-a seven-winged dragon, rampant and triumphant among the ruins of its shell and shackles; a pair of young lovers running side-by-side through a field, flesh and skin peeling away as they reached out so that their fingers never quite touches; an anonymous traveller with the world slung over his shouler, revelation and revolution in his wake, and dozens more original or obscure. It had been years since anyone serious about it had limited themselves to just paint of course-some murals moved, playing out myth-cycles and new epics alike, others put the face of the viewer onto the Zephyr.

The most popular weren’t paintings at all, but sculptures of powdered and coloured sand, given form and motion by the accompanying music of enchanted pipes. It went without saying that that display-in one of the city’s grandest plazas, surrounded by roasting pigs and barrels of spirits being liberally distributed among celebrants-had been sponsored and orchestrated by the Artisan of Glass and Wind himself. But Vyas Asraya was nowhere to be seen-it was, after all, far too early to show up to your own party. And the coming Assembly session meant there was a regrettable amount of statecraft and negotiation to rush through, beyond ensuring the crowds were well-disposed to him and his.

The proper place for such negotiations was, of course, a modestly palatial airship, a soarwood yacht floating leisurely among the racing gliders, deck open to the cool air in silent invitation for the Zephyr to involve itself in the discussions, with sufficient space for all relevant parties to lounge or posture as they liked.

Presently the only human of the gathered was replying to some argument or another. “Mountains are nice, but it’s not exactly much to have between us and the literal hordes of hell, is it? Has anyone figured out how you **** up badly enough at magic to leave the devils here even after they’re done using your soul as a chew-toy, anyway?”

In reply, the group’s spiritual authority just smiled and shrugged “Self-sacrifice is always the most effective kind, maybe losing a mage’s duel that badly counts as a ritual suicide? We don’t know it’s something to worry about yet, anyway-their leaders might be tragically unoriginal about means and ends, but we are theoretically on their side-”

“-theoretically?”

“Wait for the messenger to be sent back screaming and sans limbs before we assume they’re enemies?”

“As long as you’re providing a volunteer.”

At that, a weathered looking elf looked up from his notebook and interrupted

“Speaking of messengers, you’ve all heard of the nauseous goblin who came in with the trade ships yesterday? To be clear, I am not going to miss a chance to see the public faces of everyone else who matters on our little patch of paradise, but it’d really helpful if we can wangle an official ambassadorship so I don’t cause any scandals infiltrating the wait staff.”

“Does that mean you’re actually volunteering to handle all the mail from the other islands? Even the tedious and boring **** with nothing worth publishing in it?”

“And you say I’m never willing to suffer for what I care about.”


The Assembly’s session lasted several days, as any attempt to combine a festival with mass public politics invariably would. Still, by the end of the first a few different messengers were riding, sailing and flying out of the city.



The goblin who brought the original letter is sent back within the week, the reply fitting on a single page in a neatly sealed envelope

To Even-Tongued Bruthazmus*of Oprak,

The peace-loving people of Khasal have heard your lovely vision of the world, and have of course embraced it wholeheartedly. As a well-known scholar of current events, the Citizen’s Assembly has charged me with the solemn responsibility of representing them to the wider world, and at the proposed conference.

I dearly look forward to meeting you in person, and of course the other assorted representatives, come the winter.

May Fortune ever find you,
Corin Lettara, Friend of the People



The letter is delivered by something halfway between tropical bird and elf, garishly colored but perfectly functional wings carrying him through the mountains to the palace of Izoran, clearly on edge as he delivers the messages and ready to jump back into the air on a moment’s notice.”

To Bloody-Handed Izoran,

Some congratulations are in order for having liberated yourselves from the mediocrity who first bound you. More pertinently, I’m sure you’re more than capable of reading a map and realizing that we will soon be your neighbors to the East. Whatever your long-term plans for the world, wouldn’t you agree that having at least one friendly border would be a boon? In every other direction it seems the closest you can hope for are wild and permeable mountains.

May flesh never leave you caged,
Lia Misri, Beloved of the Architect, Weaver in Blood and Bone

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/DarkYellowSun.jpg
Source: https://www.etherealculture.com/leosolareclipse-2018?rq=solar

Trust in Shemesh
Shemesh lights the way
Shemesh protects

In Day
In Night
In Light

Shemesh shines brightly
Shemesh radiates warmth
Welcome the Light
Welcome the Warmth

Shemesh is our Home
Our Home is Shemesh
In Faith we are Together
We are Together in Faith

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/DesertStatue.jpg
Source: https://www.deviantart.com/jorgecarrero/art/Neferu-desert-272505331

The faithful of Shemesh have moved from the North and settled in the deserts, the sands, under the radiance of Shemesh. Shemesh is their Hope, Shemesh is their Life. They sing songs of Shemesh, they chant litanies, recite incantations and pray, pray everyday. Their faith sustains them, their devotion feeds them, their zeal sates their thirst, their fervor welcomes the crushing heat of the desert. They look to the Light and know the love of Shemesh.

Their journey continues, their flock has grown since their arrival in these lands. Amongst the sands, along ruins, sand-buried statues, through dunes, along ridges and much more. They seek a place, something special, something Shemesh will look favourably upon. A region for a Capital, one from which the radiance of Shemesh will illuminate all that is to come. A beacon for the other nations of this place, a Blessed site for all to gather.

For there are others, who know not the bliss of Shemesh. Gathered in city-states and nations, across mountains, deserts and oceans, they see Light without all its splendour. Though there is a rumour, amongst some of the new faithful, who have travelled far beyond, that there is another whose Light is bright, though who knows not the true name of the Light. A glimmer of Hope amongst these dark lands, for in the same rumours there are worrying, troubles, indeed, terrifying words. They speak of other nations who seek darkness. Chief amongst them, those close to them, with the Legion of Balance, some dare speak, having embraced Darkness. A frightening idea.

Yet other words are more welcoming, more inviting. From across the ocean, far away, in lands not scorching with Light. A pilgrim takes up the torch and sets out to bring the Light of Shemesh to lands far away. The pilgrim will take time to arrive, for mortal feet do not travel at the speed of Light.

[Writtensanity]

The Truth Flies

Grand Voice Dawn flew over the legions that had arrived on the beach that morning. It had been their largest shipment of believers since they had landed on this new world, and they only brought messages that more were coming in order to spread the good word of the voice. She wasn't sure if anyone on Hanrui could hear it yet, but she knew that every believer on the continent amplified it.

Dawn rose over the ranks and found her perch on a sea cliff just out of the reach of the ocean spray. There were other risen angels there, standing guard over the incoming ships. The angelling guards gave Dawn a short nod as she pushed back them to see Grand Voice Hybert pouring over a hand drawn map that was still fresh with ink.

"Dawn," Hybert greeted without glancing up from his project.

"How is the mapmaking going Hybert?" she asked.

"The truth speaks to my ears but not through my hands," he frowned before sighing and motioning towards the piles of parchment in the corner, "I don't know the truth of these lands yet and every report I get is conflicting."

"A break?" Grand Voice Dawn suggested. If she didn't have her wings she would have sat across from Hybert at the table, but angelic forms hadn't been designed for average chairs.

"I don't think I have time for a break today," Hybert pointed out, though she still stopped her work and gave Dawn her full attention. After half a second she pushed the map to the side, "This isn't really a break."

Dawn shook her head.

"What words are on the wind then?"

"Our initial scouts were deaf for a their initial search of the coastline and inland. They just got back from their second mission when they could actually hear the truth in their ear,"

"And?"

Grand Voice Dawn reached over to the map Hybert had been working on and hovered her hands over the parchment for a moment. There was a brilliant flash and then a symbol was emblazoned on the map. "Across the river in the foothills, we have neighbors."

"Voice be mute," Hybert swore, "How did we not see them before landfall?"

"Dwarves," Dawn explained, we could not see them until the voice showed us the entrances to their many tunnels and the chopped trees from their mining-" Dawn trailed off, the list went on but the point had gotten across. "We should speak to them."

"Do they not hear the voice?" Hybert asked.

"Any who hear the voice would have come to greet us upon on first landing." Dawn pointed out. "And that means we need to share the voice with dwarves," Dawn continued.

"We've spoken to worse and made them listen," Hybert sighed at the logo that was now on his map.

"Of course, Dwarves are reasonable, just stubborn and locked into their old ways." Dawn explained, "it may not be a fast conversion and we don't have the time to waste three seasons trying to find more land for our coming numbers."

"Let the paladins know," Hybert passed on, the time for celebration might be shorter than we thought."






Blessed be all those who are willing to hear the voice ringing in their ears. We have heard your call and shall answer with our holy representatives so that you may hear the will of the Truth from a voice that you can hear with a mortal mind.

Let it be known that goblinoids and all forms of creatures are welcome in our churches and welcome to the bounties of the voice. The calm song of her speaking travels through all ears, whether they be considered monstrous by others or not. It would be our pleasure to share the voice with you.

- Grand Voice Hybert






Good evening or morning to those in Khazn Durn, may the voice echo in your halls soon.


As you have likely noticed, the blessed emmasaries of the voice have been arriving on the coast over the past months, setting up their camp and finally finalizing the Fortress of First Words. We have been hard at work but we were deaf to your work being done a short flight away.

This has left us in a difficult position, now that the voice has reached this new continent, we must spread the word, and for that we are going to need men and women to add to the chorus. We ask humbly for you to open your ears to the voice and let us know if you hear it. If you do not hear it, we are happy to share it with you.

If you do not hear the voice but wish to help our cause, we would be pleased to accept the foothills just inland of our landing port as we are going to need the land for our coming soldiers. We have 20,000 on the shore and hundreds arriving each day.

We look forward to your reply of how you wish to help the voice spread.

-Grand Voice Lyra









The message is simple, and delivered by an angel who quickly leaves after passing on the scroll.

To All Who Hear the Voice, may she be praised and may her song fill your ears.

To All Who Are Deaf but Willing, May the Voice fill your hearts with her sound.

To All Who Are Deaf and Opposed, May you concede your stubborn ways and open your ears.

To All on Hanrui, A Brighter Future.

The Grand Voices Sing her words.

[Zweanslord]

"WAIT!"

Down below, in the sands of the scorching desert, a large group from a sandstone settlement in the Theocracy of Shemesh looked up at the angelic messenger of the Great Church of the Truth Speaker. Even with the sun behind the angel, the devout peered up, unfazed by the bright brilliance, not looking away from the Light. The shout had come from the receiver of the letter. She had passed on the letter to the man besides her, who was reading it now, glancing to the angel between words. She ran to chase the angel, reaching up with her hands to the skies.

"Come back guardian spirit! Tell us what dire need has summoned you! Maybe we can help!"

The man besides her shouted up as well: "We are here to illuminate a brighter future for Hanrui too!"


Pilgrim Mentawy looked at his goblin companion, sailing the great ocean. How far was he from those like minded now. The boat looked strange to him. Certainly, he had sailed before, but the curves and angles were not that of his birth country, which lay far, far away. The sail felt wrong, but it worked well enough to catch the breeze. Not that Pilgrim Mentawy had been a sailor, but he had travelled through docks on his pilgrimages. The boat belonged to people who had been drawn to its riches and founded a small settlement on the coast of the Northern Continent.

The subject of treasure was often brought up and while his goblin companion was apt to converse on the subject, when Pilgrim Mentawy spoke that Shemesh was the only treasure he needed and began to talk of the wealth he was given by Shemesh, he found the interest of the sailors swiftly waning, suddenly having to scrub the deck. On the other hand, when in the evening he told of his long journeys, the arduous treks, the sights under Shemesh and all the colourful people, he could captivate their stories in long stories which he liked the share.

He gained their begrudging respect and envy when under a scorching sun on the ocean, with all the sailors sweating, he basked in full enjoyment of the heat, thanking Shemesh, as he did his duties on the boat. When his goblin companion and Pilgrim Mentawy departed, he was happy to know he had given them warmth, with perhaps one sailor more willing to look up at the sky to see the blessing of Light. Though the others would likely only see this as a story added about a fanatic follower of Shemesh.

And there in the city Oprak, the goblin courier that had been tasked to carry the message about the summit to the Theocracy of Shemesh returned with Pilgrim Mentawy, a man growing closer to his older years with dark skin from the sun. Moving to the first summit, he stands before the great doors in the city of Oprak, surrounded by goblinoids of the Ironfang Republic, who have called out amongst Hanrui for a summit to discuss its future.

Pilgrim Mentawy asks to attend, a humble man representing the Theocracy of Shemesh. Not a Very Important Person. Carrying no influence, no stake of desert reputation. A humble, devout, person, in high morale. The Ironfang Republic welcomed all, and would have Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued in attendance to host a meeting of international importance amongst elders and policy makers. Pilgrim Mentawy asks to be present, in good faith, as representative, having travelled far in respect, to speak. A hand extended, to see if the words of cooperation spoken are true.

Pilgrim Mentawy of the far stretched Theocracy of Shemesh, a humble pilgrim, an ambassador in gesture, asks to attend the private meeting of the Ironfang Republic, to represent the Theocracy of Shemesh. With the nations of the world watching, what does the Ironfang Republic do?

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Yonren walked unseen amongst the festivities on Tetrahedron Thirty-One. It was a curious mix of celebration and mourning; grief, regret, and guilt warred with hope, relief, and a renewed sense of purpose. Troupes of dancers, their permits having been approved weeks ago, spun gracefully through the streets. In marketplaces and town squares, empath-singers waited patiently for their turn to perform, crowds eagerly gathered for the outpouring of emotion that would soon begin. Githyanyi battle-poets sparred in taverns, each shouting their verses as they traded blows under the careful watch of metabolic healers. Yonren paused and let the emotions wash over his mind; he always imagined that this was what it felt like to be an empath. With a wry smile, he focused and the distracting barrage of discordant emotions ceased. He would have loved to participate in the festivities, to share this day with his people, but as a Speaker of the Council, he had a greater duty.

It was the anniversary of the Shift, when the thirty-nine Speakers of the Astral Collective – Yonren included – had made an impossible choice. Faced with the prospect of imminent annihilation at the hands of a dragon-tyrant, a vast being of flame, avarice, and malice, they had abandoned their reality and sought shelter in a Hanrui that had been untouched by civilization for generations. It had not been without cost. Only seventeen of the thirty-nine tetrahedrons had reached this reality. More than a million people had been lost to an unknown fate, something which weighed heavily on Yonren’s mind. He – like the other Speakers – would do everything in their power to ensure that their sacrifices were not in vain.

At last he reached his destination: a small, one-storied house near the bottom of the tetrahedron. It was unadorned and plain, but it was clearly well-maintained; the small garden in front of it was neat and orderly. He would expect nothing less from its owner. Moving forward, he walked through the door and into the Thirty-First Speaker’s home.

The first thing he noticed was Jasnah’s body lying lifeless on her couch.

The second was the warm chatter and conversation coming from the kitchen to his left. Jasnah’s voice, clear and sharp despite her seventy-six years, rang out as he stepped over the threshold.

“Speaker Yonren, thank you for joining us tonight. It is my pleasure to welcome you to my home.”

Like him, Jasnah was proficient in the art of astral projection. Her spirit, looking like a faint silver outline of her body, sat at one of the chairs at her kitchen table. Sitting next to her were the spirits of two other Kalashtar, Speakers Twenty-Four and Nine. Yonren bowed and addressed each of them in turn.

“Iacantha. Rolind. I hope that you are both well. Jasnah, thank you for your hospitality this evening.” Yonren settled into the fourth chair as well as his incorporeal form could. “We have much to discuss. As the three of you know, the Council has proposed that I attend this ‘peace summit’ that the Ironfang Republic is hosting.”

At this, both Rolind and Jasnah frowned. Neither of them were particularly fond of goblins, the Dragon-Tyrant’s most numerous minions. Rolind spoke in a booming voice: “I do not believe it. It is likely a ploy to win our trust in order to strike when we are most vulnerable”

“I concur” said Jasnah. “It would be unwise to believe them. A goblin cannot change their fangs, as they say.”

Yonren gestured to Iacantha, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. “And you, Speaker? What is your verdict?”

“The Astral Collective was founded not only to bring peace and unity to the world, but as a sanctuary to those who had been cast out for the psionic abilities they displayed. While we have suffered greatly at the hands of the goblinoid people in the past, I too can sympathize with the plight of outcasts. I believe that we should take advantage of this opportunity to investigate their motives.”

Yonren nodded, glad for the show of support. “I concur. This is a new Hanrui; we have another chance to bring peace and harmony to this world, and I will not waste it due to our own preconceptions. Especially with the threats to the North-West, we cannot afford to overlook an opportunity such as this. With your blessing – and that of the rest of the Council – I will go and meet with them.”

The other speakers murmured agreements, placated by his arguments. Yonren smiled and continued speaking.

“Now, let us discuss our other neighbors…”

Morale 6

A second scroll is returned, bound in silver thread. No one can quite remember who delivered it, only that they seemed friendly.

My most esteemed greetings, Secretary General.

We appreciate your invitation, and welcome this gesture of peace and cooperation. The Astral Collective stands firmly in support of this show of unity. We left behind our home – another Hanrui much like this one – that was lost to the whims of a mad dragon-tyrant. We know all too well what price war and avarice can inflict on this land.

Many of my colleagues on the Council do not trust your motives. Some of them let past experience cloud their judgment. But just as this is a second chance for us, so too may this be a second chance for your historically war-like and violent people.

I put my faith in you. I will attend – not quite in person, but I will be there nonetheless. Please disable any wards you have against astral projection; I would hate to have to dismantle them on the way in.

I look forward to our discussions.

Respectfully,

Yonren, Twelfth Speaker of the Astral Collective


The return message is found carved into a large slab of sandstone near the initial landing site.

Greetings, noble pioneers, on behalf of the Astral Collective.

Welcome to our corner of Hanrui. I wish to state that we have no ill-will towards you, and will not stop you from proselytizing within our lands. Any members of our Collective that hear the voice will not be silenced. We hope to work with you and yours in the spirit of peaceful cooperation.

That said, please understand that any military actions towards our borders will not be tolerated.

I hope to meet one of your representatives at the Ironfang Summit this winter.

Respectfully,

Yonren, Twelfth Speaker


The message is hand-delivered by a nervous-looking githyanki. She looks intimidated by the scale of the dwarven workings beneath their mountains. She stammers that she will remain for several days in order to collect a return message, if the King wishes one sent.

Greetings, King Wildhammer. On behalf of the Astral Collective, welcome to Hanrui. I must say that we are pleased to have such lawful and orderly neighbors to the North.

I hope that we can coexist peacefully in these lands. I wish to reassure you that the Astral Collective has no designs on your territories; that said, we would appreciate it if could notify us if you plan on expanding towards our borders.

Respectfully,

Yonren, Twelfth Speaker



The message is delivered on a silver scroll. No one can quite remember how it got there, but many of the spirits in the area are quite agitated.

I will keep this brief and to-the-point.

Necromancy, in itself, is not evil. What one does with necromancy determines if it is evil.

We will be watching.

Yonren, Twelfth Speaker


The message is delivered in triplicate on scrolls delicately bound with silver thread, each planted on a very dazed kobold.

Greetings, most magnificent dragon.

The Council doesn’t know I’ve sent this message. They’re blinded by their prejudice. They’ve seen what a dragon can wreak on Hanrui. I don’t blame them for their caution. I blame them for their cowardice.

See, I’ve seen firsthand what a dragon can do to. I would much rather have one on our side.

So, I have a proposition for you. The Astral Collective wants peace and harmony. That likely holds no appeal for you. Honestly? Sounds a little boring to me too. But let me tell you something – to get that peace and harmony, I’m betting there will be an awful lot of bloodshed. An awful lot of opportunities for glory. And if you join us, we won’t be sitting back and just watching. Oh no. We let that happen once, until it was too late. Won’t happen again.

And then when all of that’s done, and when this Hanrui is united in peace and friendship – what’s left of it, anyway – I can offer you something better. A chance to help us avenge our lost tetrahedrons by joining us in slaying the one you call the Pyresoul in the reality we came from. You can help us take it from him and be greater than your progenitor ever was. It can all be yours to rule. I just want him to pay.

Think it over. If you’re interested, maybe I can get the Council on board and sweeten the deal.

Respectfully,

Kalira, Daughter of Silence

[Hamste]

Chemosh yawns as he is carried out of bed by a pack of skeletons. Another day living the life of luxury. Really more people needed to get into reusing the old things. Like those goblins. Recycling their old champion was genius. Maybe he should send some shades out to see if any adventurers picked up anything interesting. These past people had it good, even if they were dumb enough to leave perfectly good stuff lying around.

He sighs slightly as his skeleton carry him next to Salazar who immediately starts talking about some silly news like dragons. He immediately stops listening as Jenkins comes with his meal of oatmeal and bacon that has been cut into small piece. As Jenkins carefully spoon feeds him, Chemosh hears something that interests him.

What was that last one? He calls out in between mouthfuls.

We were invited to a council by the Iron Fang Republic, sir. It is to tal... Salazar starts before Chemosh cuts them off.

Is their resurrected champion going to be there?

Salazar grimaces slightly before continuing. Er, the invitation said they were going to have some elders there and she is probably the eldest, so maybe?

Worse comes the worst I might at least meet the people responsible. Jenkins, get me my fancy robe. I have a journey to do. Vizier Salazar watch over my domain while I'm away.

With that Chemosh gets carried away. Salazar just smiles slightly before leaving to do actual work beyond just talking to Chemosh.


Chemosh comes to the meeting carried as always by his skeletons. His thin form is covered in a thick robe that he clearly got from the City of Wraiths. It's deep purple color isn't faded but it appears to have been patched up and matted. Most of the button match at least but a few have been clearly replaced. There is a thick smell of must and death around him. He gives a toothless smile when arrives.

A pleasure to be here. Always glad to be invited to these things.



You maybe better served watching your own than trying to watch shadows. Some interesting messages coming from others in your collective.

[Erulasto]

BALAM
The City Stained Red

At the heart of the wicked city stood a monolithic fortress, with tall towers and thick walls that loomed up above the city like the wretched, crooked claw of the Demons that built it. The shadow it cast fell across the land both physically and metaphorically. For it was here, in halls never graced by the light of the sun and kept barely lit through ghostly witch-light and sorcerous pyres that sputtered and bubbled with the rendered fat of a thousand slaves, that the Witch-Priests of Balam came together to meet.

Of them, there were twelve. Each seated upon a grandiose throne of gold and bone and jet, arrayed in a wide circle around a central podium of polished black glass. Within this glass slab sat the insensate form of their Master – the Mad King Zakaius, and First of their Order.

The Witch-Priests and gathered, as was their custom, to discuss matters and events that needed their attention. Not the small squabbling of the petty slaver-princes, or foreign merchants but the Machiavellian plots that they slowly wove across the span of years.

There were messages from abroad that needed their attention, with the rise of so many foreign powers, and a plethora of new markets to exploit.

Despite the positive outlook many of the Witch-Priests had on these new developments, it was almost a unanimous decision that they at least maintain a solid watch of their borders for now. With so much political upheaval across Hanrui, it was possible that someone would try to capitalize on it and take territory by force.

And so, with no further argument, the Witch-Priests summoned Neren – their most feared warlord – and sent him with his armies to adopt defensive positions throughout their territory.



Balam’s entire military is adopting a defensive position. As I understand it, this counts as double value for the purposes of military actions. 3 of the 4 points would defend territory 19 as their capitol, and the other 1 would be sent to territory 10.





The scroll bearing the wax-seal of the Ironfang Republic had been ferried quickly through the crowded avenues and thoroughfares of Balam, before being delivered into the ancient fingers of the Witch-Priests themselves.

Their Voice – Lahan – had spoken the contents aloud, from blackened lips and bloated viper’s tongue, all the while the sussurus of muttered comments and whispered plots had hung on the periphery of his listeners.

The consensus was reached quickly. Goblins and their ilk were valuable at many times, both in the Fleshworks, the mercenary levies and beyond. An entire nation of them, and the other dispossessed was a wonderous new market to explore.

A return missive was sent. The message was carved into the flesh of a slave. A Dwarven mercenary who’d garnered something of a reputation for slaying Goblins in the past. He was shackled, bound and delivered to the Republic capitol by a pair of black-armoured warriors, upon iron-fleshed steeds that snorted fire.

The message was both a response, a gift to the Ironfang Republic, and a message.

A message that, while succinct and blunt, was an admission of the Balamite’s excitement for future endeavors.

”We have heard your words and your entreaties, and we welcome you and your kin at the altar of community. We send to your summit our Voice. He who speaks with our Authority.”


I’m cool with the idea of a summit via Discord channel. I’ll check out the discord link later today. It’s been crazy at work the past couple.

Going to send Lahan (VIP) to the summit.





If there was amusement at the nature or delivery of the Goldfinder Company missive, it would not have been seen behind the strange masks of the Witch-Priests. But while the delivery was, perhaps, questionable…the timing was indeed a thing of perfection.

A response was drafted with haste, and sent back with the same messenger that had brought their own missive. But it was accompanied by a chest of gems and coins. Though not large enough to dent the coffers of Balam, it was a down payment for services rendered in the future.

”It pleases us to discover that we have such indomitable and valiant neighbors. While we do not immediately have any need of your services, it is our estimation that this will change as the days go on. Consider the accompanying chest of coin as a down payment for future services. Please, do consider availing yourselves of our markets. Many useful tools can be found here that may help your endeavors.

And if you come across any prisoners you wish to wash your hands of, we will take them off your hands for a more than fair price.”



Balam will spend a temporary Economy point to buy a future favor, if that’s agreeable.






Beauty that surpassed mortal ken, wrapped in supple flesh and diaphanous gowns of scarlet and gold arrived on a palanquin of bone, held aloft by a dozen strong slaves and accompanied by an honour guard of well-armed mercenaries in black mail bearing the red, rampant Hydra motif of Balam.

The Red Lady had come bearing tidings from the Slaver-Princes of Balam.

”Warm greetings, O Magnificent One.” The Red Lady purred. ”My Masters bid me come to you with an offer that would be most pleasing to both. We offer unfettered access to the Fleshworks of our great city, as both buyer and seller. We have goods from across the world, and slaves uncounted that could be used for whatever purpose your dark heart…desires.”


A trade agreement between two fiendish nations, for slaves and raw materials. Whatever the Brotherhood needs, Balam can provide. Troops. Slaves. Gold. Weapons. Magic.





Gossip travels fast across the breadth of Hanrui, carried upon the lips of traders, merchants and wanderers alike. It spoke of a great call to welcome all those with needs – material, spiritual or magical – to attend the many markets and bazaars of the Wicked City. An open invitation to any who wished to share in economic growth.

And an offer to relieve the other nations of their prisoners, their criminals and their unwanted.

For a more than fair price, Balam would handle these unwanted masses. Why spend your own wealth to keep your criminals imprisoned, when you could earn cold, hard coin for them instead?



Balam is willing to negotiate a trade deal for any nation that wished to benefit from the slave trade to make their way to the Fleshworks or the Red Market.

[3SecondCultist]

The Gates of Oprak

Eygara, ninghast - a word in goblin that translated in the common tongue to ‘blade peer’ - of the Third Class, wondered not for the first time how she came to end up in this position.

She was hardly anybody worth noting. Born Clanless - just like thousands of other goblins who joined the Republic in hopes of a better future - she had no family name or legacy to lean on. She had come from nothing, whelped in the fields and brought up tough. Although thick of muscle and tight of frame, she had never had any particular smarts in the way that a member of a more learned species might appreciate. She was no gifted scholar, no philosopher or writer. Her works were primarily written in cuts and edges; jagged and wounding.

When her time for proving to her superiors came, just as it did for any hobgoblin of a certain age, she had been sent out into the wider world to bring back a prize of great value. The greater the prize, the higher potential for advancement up the social ladder that existed at the end of adolescence. Eygara had wanted so desperately to prove herself that she took the premise of the challenge perhaps a bit too close to heart. Journeying from her home farms, across mountain ranges and seas, the young hobgoblin warrior arrived in the golden heart of Kaoling. There, she had studied for nearly three years at the feet of the Celestial Sword-Sages, just as Aza the Immortal had done before her. When she returned to Oprak, it had been with the secret techniques of the rulers of the cloud temple. Of course, her superiors were not all that impressed: not only had the Glorious General already brought back the majority of the secrets that fabled place had to offer, it had only taken Azaersi three months to reach the same level of skill in the forgotten Celestial Styles.

All the same, her not-so-impressive tale had in fact made its way all the way up to the Council of Clans, for here she was, making anther 'adventure of a lifetime' to collect a pious lunatic and bring them back to Oprak in order to meet up with a group of similar idealists. She couldn’t say for certain that she would have made the same decision, were she in their shoes, but a ninghast was not to question the roles of their superiors. The elders - and Azaersi - had seen fit to open the doors of Oprak to the ruling elite and high ranking representatives on the continent.

As the two of them made it further down the road, the familiar silhouette of the Cinder Spire began to grow in the distance. The solitary peak had been transformed by years of hard labour into one of the most impenetrable fortress-cities of Hanrui, and yet to Eygara it was still a new home. The outer guard would be upon them soon - and no sooner did Eygara finish the thought than she saw the plumes of dust rising from the middle distance. Several hulking figures came charging down the road: the famous hill yaks of the yzobu, mounted knight regiments designed for steady but deadly engagements. On flat ground, a horse would have the advantage, but the yaks were tough and could handle most kinds of rough terrain. They had an escort, it seemed.

The yzobu column stopped not twenty feet away from Eygara and her dusty desert companion. As she pulled back her cloak to reveal the Republic insignia on her uniform - and the three silver dagger-stripes along her torso denoting her rank - the lead rider pulled back his mount, gesturing for the others to follow suit. Within a minute, the pair were surrounded. The lead rider pulled up the face plate of his black iron helm, revealing a lean grey face and crooked lips pulled into an authoritarian frown. Eygara recognized the countenance of Ulrak, himself of the Fourth Class. Technically she outranked him, though she suspected in these special circumstances his orders superceded her own.

"Ninghast, we were not expecting you back so soon. I see that you have brought with you an envoy!" The sergeant paused, taking in the sight of Pilgrim Mentawy for the first time. Ulrak’s patient gaze swept over the otherwise sparse road, noting the lack of any other attendants or dignitaries. The frown deepened, as the hobgoblin turned to Mentawy properly.

"You, step forward. You approach the sovereign state of Oprak, heart of the Ironfang Republic. We have orders to keep an eye out for trains of foreign ambassadors and escort them into the city." Ulrak paused for a moment, digging through his saddlebag before producing a piece of folded parchment. He squinted slightly as he read it over. "It says here that Blade-Peer Eygara was to return with an Archpriestess of Shemesh or envoy of similar standing, not a single sandy traveler. Who are you, that we should let you speak for all of the followers of your god?"

[Zweanslord]

Pilgrim Mentawy stands before the hobgoblin, at ease and relaxed, with a peaceful look on his face.

"May the Light of Shemesh shine upon all! I have come from far, from the sands of the Theocracy of Shemesh. The followers of Shemesh have heard of the intercontinental summit and wish to bring Light to the summit!

I am Pilgrim Mentaway, and I have journeyed through the Burnt Wastes, the High Steppes, the Rolling Sands under the gaze of Shemesh. The Light of Shemesh has been my guide through cliffs, mountains and deserts. I have seen much in my time here in the Light and I have been bestowed upon the honour, the blessing by the Theocracy of Shemesh, the responsibility by Archpriestess Akhteret, our great beacon amidst the sands, to take upon the great journey across the waters to this intercontinental summit to represent our people. I carry the torch of Shemesh, the word of Shemesh, as illumination to dark hearts, welcoming them to the warmth from the rays of Shemesh.

I have travelled with congregations of the followers of Shemesh across the sands, been a spark in the starless night, my journeys and tales are an inspiration to others. I am Pilgrim Mentaway and ready to brightly represent the Theocracy of Shemesh!”

[Writtensanity]

"Ah so the Archpreistess herself couldn't be bothered with politics," Grand Voice Khal said as he approached the goblin and pilgrim waiting outside of Oprak. The Grand Speaker looked up to the grey spires of the gate and sighed, "I suppose I was brash thinking they would have the decency to have someone useful sent."

Behind a speaker, a small group of Paladins followed on horseback, all of which were quite a bit younger than Khal. Above them a small group of angels hovered with slow wingbeats. It had been a long journey here and all of the were ready to get into the city.

"Grand Speaker Khal," Khal introduced himself taking a low bow, his long grey hair dangling in front of his face for a moment, "may the Voice ring in your ears and may it soon spread to the Ironfang Republic," Khal turned to the pilgrim, "and to the lands of Shemesh as well."

The Grand Speaker turned back to the head of the goblins, "I have come on behalf of the Church of the Truth Speaker, I am the head of their economics on this continent and a proper representative of the church banks beyond. My words are those of the voice and of my follow speakers, Dawn, Myra, Sylas, Hybert and Jeleva. We regret that they couldn't be here with us today but due to some unforeseen circumstances it is simply me and my humble paladins who have come to discuss the future of this land."


Khal finished his piece and then glared at the pilgrim before him, "Though if the other nations are sending voices that aren't able to bring change forward then I'm unsure if the Great Church has the time to speak to them outside of mass."

Khal waved his retinue forward to join him in front of the guard. "The mass is every evening at twilight, if you wish to come hear the voice for yourself."







The letter arrives on a scroll which whispers the name of Yoren until it is delivered to him

Speaker Yoren

Perhaps you judge us as crusades that you have seen in the past. Maybe you believe that we are here to bring fire and smite your people. This could not be further from the truth. Your people will never need to live in fear from us, no people shall. Those who are willing to let the voice into the hearts and ears find only a strength that lets them push through this life to salvation and those who do not are welcomed to salvation earlier.

We appreciate your welcome to your lands, and will hopefully be offering our protection and words on your borders soon. For now we must deal with local matters.

Grand Voice Khal





We have no wish to make your kind rich off the suffering of others. May you hear the voice, or may the voice bring you to salvation quickly.

There is no signature.






Apologies for the incident outside of the walls, it was quite surprising to see the Theocracy try such a blatant show of disrespect at an important summit.

I do not know if we will remain in the city if the meeting is to simply be a member of each nation rather than someone who is capable of making change.

Grand Speaker Khal

[Zweanslord]

Pilgrim Mentawy of the Theocracy of Shemesh stood at the Gates of Oprak, with his focus quickly shifting as Grand Voice Khal approached. The devout man did not react to the words spoken, because he gasped as he saw the hovering angels of the Great Church of the Truth Speaker. Not a gasp of awe, but an expression of worry and concern. "Shemesh protects us!" Stepping forward to the speaker, the horseback paladins and the angels, Pilgrim Mentawy spoke loudly.

"By the Light of Shemesh, I am Pilgrim Mentawy! Please tell me, what danger is afoot, what darkness is threatening?"


Nebtise looked up high and prayed. Scarce little did she realise she had arrived until one of the deck hands of the boat snapped her out of her concentration. She had arrived at the coasts where the Great Church of the Truth Speaker had arrived and made their home. Continuing her journey, she made her way to the Fortress of the First Words. On her way, she learned of ever so strange things. Not Light was held paramount here, but Voices. Called Truth, no mention of Shemesh was spoken. Estranged, she had reassured herself by prayer to Shemesh, who was with her on her journey. At the Fortress of the First Words, she stood before the guards at the gate. "May the Light of Shemesh illuminate all. I am Nebtise from the Theocracy of Shemesh, following a spirit guardian's beacon. A letter was delivered to our people by the very same spirit guardian. I have come to ask: In what great peril is the Church of the Truth Speaker?"

[n0ble]

“Father” Mycognicist Jerran Dissomer stifled a groan and scrunched his eyes tighter against the light that threatened to seep through his retina. He ran the odds on whether or not a groan would get him out from whatever the boy’s words were waking him towards. Sleep had been a precious commodity these past few days, one that had seen the Doctor’s fatigues compounded and his energies worn down. He grunted and twisted to his side, away from the words and the work that came with them. Like everything else in the commune, time had to be triaged and measured out. Applied appropriately. If he wasn’t so damned tired Jerran might have found some irony in the sentiment. As was time was in as short supply as everything else. Minutes to seconds more. He relaxed his eyes a bit, but not too much. A few stray shafts of light had started peaking through slats stacked to walls, and he didn’t want to let them in. A few more minutes in bed then he would see who saw fit to disturb him at this hour. A pair of fingers prodded at the meat of his shoulder, and Jerran let out a slightly exaggerated groan at the contact.


“Father.” More prodding. The boy was always touching at things he shouldn’t. Picking and peeling at the surface to expose what was underneath. Much like his mother in that regard. “Its Kerrick.” Dissomer let out a groan and this time there was nothing exaggerated about it. Kerrick meant the guard and the guard meant the Hegemon. The doctor righted himself and blinked a few stray spots from his eyes. The sparse two-room that had been his home since-since-Ten years-stood back with the same indifference it always had, sharing the same mottled brown tones as his step-sons clothing. Next to his bed, a screechwick was sputtering away, leaking seconds into the house’s putrescence as it burned down to the part of the wick responsible for the word’s namesake. Jerran gave the wick an apathetic look, then licked his fingers and snuffed it out. He ran a few thin fingers over his face, then stood to the full height his gangly frame afforded. It was an always awkward fact of his relationship with the boy that their respective heights made it seem that he was looking down on his step-son. It helped that he actually was today. Jerran sighed and began to get his surgery kit and tonics from the small cabinet that warred for space with the screechwick’s nightstand. He considered putting on a fresh workshirt, then thought better of it. Any task requiring what he was bringing with him would just spoil attire.

“It’s the Hegemon’s son.” Jerran shook his head and looked back to Kerrick. The miasma occluding the commune’s sky was particularly pervasive today, but nowhere near as bad as it could have been. Some days it was sufficient to make day seem as night and night seem as days. Or was it some nights? Jerran shook the mad thoughts free from his head. He needed his mind ready for solutions towards whatever afflictions had beset his future and thoughts about the miasma detracted from that.

“Eh?” Jerren grumbled and adjusted the thin film of cloth that passed for his face-filter. It was slow going through Onestreet. What would have been ordinarily packed with commerce and people was instead laden with a great layer of mycology, piled high like sediment-layers. Those who couldn’t get inside during such downpourings took to the local shelter. And if they could reach there then the fungus or the air got them.

“The reason you were sent for. The Hegemon’s boy, Chructus?” Kerrick’s words were halting and sparse, like he was trying to choke back a weeze or some other thing that would convey weakness. It was hard to tell, for just like Jerren he wore a full headmask to keep the miasma out. Still, the Mycognicist thought he could eke out something underneath the muffle of the guards filter. “Ah.”

“You don’t want to know?”

“Know what?”

“What's wrong with him.” A bit of a weeze snuck out under the guardsman’s words, stilling him into an uncomfortable silence. Jerren let it be as they trudged on, down through the Onestreet of their communes namesake, silent and disparaging of each other. One way or another Jerren would discover what was wrong. He didn’t need to waste time or energy quantifying it with words.

The Hegemon’s residence had been situated on the second highest hill in town. The other tallest had been host to the Commune’s watchtower before tremors had knocked it askew. The aloofness that the second hill had been chosen-prized-for now only served to isolate leader from community. And bring them closer to the particulates that perpetually suffused the air. Otherwise the house remained like all others in the commune: squat, brown, caulked with waxes and fats where the wind blew threw slat-holes and, unlike most residences, crowned with a second story that bespoke of a high position within the communes hierarchy. Jerren might have found it an honor, but recent months work had leeched ideas of honnor from his marrow. Well. That and the house was an uphill walk.

The doorframe-a seemingly baroque affair carved with warding symbols from Balam-was flanked by two guards of a similar stature to Kerrick. Each one had a headmask on that was bleached near white, a far cry from the fresh red cloth used to denote the Communes guards amidst the spores. They must have been waiting a long time. Jerren wasn’t envious. If his findings were anything to go by anytime spent outside was best spent with a purpose in mind. Otherwise it was just time spent dying. Jerren in behind Kerrick without a word or so much as a glance at either guard. He tried, then failed, to dull down his sympathies for them both. Mycogniscist and guard captain passed through the threshold into the Hegemon’s house. The two guards outside slackened with relief, and followed.

Several adherents of the Boastful Tiger sat in a circle amidst the main living space, each joined arm-in-arm-in-arm with one another. Thleta, the Hegemon’s wife, sat in the center of the farce in silent contemplation, her face completely stone. Jerren ignored the scene and marched towards the second floor, willingly oblivious to the prostrations and bids made to a god he’d long since abandoned.

The Hegemon was of goblinoid stock, seemingly capable of looking crestfallen and wrathful all at the same time. He looked at the child-his son’s-form like one would an invader to a foreign land. Like there was something unseemly on his progeny which could only be scourged away through sheer will. And conveyed through a narrow glare. A small little Shemesh pin was the only decal on the otherwise black outfit the Hegemon was wearing. Jerran had to admire that. Black made it harder to see blood stains, which in turn might have helped with the comfort of others. As was what looked back at him was further cause for silence.

The Hegemon’s boy was, externally, fine. His breathing was shallow, if a bit narrow, and there were a few dermatophytyes about his skin, though none more so then the average person. By the Truth. Jerren’s stepson had a worse case this past harvest. Back when there were Harvests. Jerren sniffed through his mask and cocked his head at the faint smell of alcohol, then adjusted the lenses on his goggles. Ah. Yeasts and cheilitis. That combination of symptoms wouldn’t have yielded unconsciousness on its own. Or could it? A buildup like that could have yielded an excess of alcoholic fermentations. Too drunk on nothing. Accounted for the shallow breathing. “Do you have any sputum?”

“Hm?” The Hegemon looked away from the boy, and some cord of sympathy in his gaze bade Jerran to think on removing his moving his mask. It was common sense that stayed his hand. “Sputum, uh. Spit? Maybe a from a rag or something? It’d be…easier than doing an invasive culture.” Something twitched in the Hegemon’s face at the mention of the word invasive and Jerran exhausted a bit more mental energy in noting not to use the word further. “Look it-it wont have to come to that. If we can induce some coughing and I wont have to-“

“Godsdammit!” The hobgoblin thumped a meaty fist into the bedpost against which he braced himself, then seemed to slump a bit more on it for support as the taciturn militancy he held dissipated. “I-I have some. Few hours old.” The man slipped into goblinoid and Jerren lost his accounting of what was being said, but got the general gist of things. Specimens taken in advance of his arrival. Etcetera. He snapped back to paying attention, shaking his mind from numbness. “-y the drawer over there. Quarantined ‘em. Mycognicist?” Jerren blinked under his mask, looked to the Hegemon, then the drawer, then back again. He shook his head again and made his way over. Shouldve left me resting. Do more good from there. He trudged towards the drawer and the window above it, numb to the gale that ensorcelled the house despite his ears keenly registering. Registering it. By the Tiger he needed to sleep.

He stumbled over to the drawer, mindful of the window under which the drawer sat. He’d just reached it and had opened one of the drawers er-drawers when it all went to ****. The gale outside swelled to a peak and dashed the window open glass of his left lens open wide. Open wide. The howling that had been confined outside raged within the room, mingle with the chorus of chants downstairs into some sort of unholy liturgy. Jerren grimaced, blinked away a few spores from his exposed eye and tried to think past thoughs of contamination. And the Hegemon’s shouting. He lurched forward like a drunk and drove his elbow into the corner of the window, slamming it shut as the Mycognicist drove his full weight into it. It slammed shut and, abruptly, Jerren found his face making contact with the window’s glass, spiderwebbeing it with it fissures. He gasped with pain and tried to peel his bloodied face away, but not before he saw the entire town laid out before him.

And the glorious-by gods glorious-garden the hilltop view afforded him.


By the Shemesh. How much Tiger-damned longer. Barrac squeezed his fists and eyes a bit tighter and cursed his luck a little more. He was sure that Thurnin had swapped around the chits so that he’d have to go last. Just to goad him. Thatd be just like Thurnin to do. F*ck him. And whatever it is I’m standing on too. It had been too easy to sneak out after his father-step father, Barrac had to remember that, even if it was a little thing-had gone out to see to the Hegemon. Barrac had given him a full ten minutes before sneaking out across one street in the opposite direction. He’d counted on the spoors. It’s why he’d brought his out headmask and three best filters. What he hadn’t counted on was the depth of the spoors. Barrac had almost gelt as though they’d clung to his pants, threatening to tear or pull apart the alchemiwax that sealed them at his boots. He’d been patient and careful and that had made him late. Which, in turn, made him late for the game. Maybe there is something to be said for step-father’s lessons about cause and effect after all.

The children had no name for it.

Well. They did. But it was as nondescript as labeling their game as the game. So they called the object on which Barrac stood the “shell” but Barrac knew better. Jerren would have called it something like “chitin” or “carapace” but those words had too many syllables for Barracs liking. The shell fit just fine. Except for when it was it his turn in the game. It was scant comfort that others felt the same way. But then again standing on the xenomaterial with his arms outstretched to the haze of the spoor-squall was comfort none in the commune took comfort in. But children had to test their dominance over one another and medicine was in short supply was boredom easily gestated, so little competitions like this one ensued from time to time. It didn’t make them any less dumb. Or important.

Must be done soon. Thurnin had lasted the longest so far, so he was the person to beat. Kryph had stood on the bugshell for a grand total of thirty seconds before squealing and running back to the moss covered rocks the group was hiding behind. Tornaegev was behind Thurnin at-at. Barrac shook his head free of the cobwebs. Five minutes. Hrista and Thrista had both stood for two minutes and had yet to go respectively. Which was good. Meant he could talk to Thrista if he won as runner-up and could make fun of her into conversing with him if she lost. By the Tiger she was pretty. Barrac stood a little straighter at the thought and ignored the mushrooms that grew on the shell’s outer exoskeleton. Was the wind picking up? How ****ing long had it been?

Barrac blinked under his lenses and tried not to think to much about that thought. Thurnin had been time keeper and when it was his turn. Barrac’s mind turned back to his journey from home. His home. It had been mothers before she passed and so it was his, not Jerren’s abode like the Mycognicist claimed. The momentary anger was almost enough to clear past the memory of Old Garrowgar, croaking away amidst the miasma despite being waste high in spoors. One of his lenses had shattered and flowered over with hyphae-that was a word Barrac knew from step-fathers tincture induced sleeps-budding out into a series of colonies that obscured the veterans right eye in a violet display. Barrac hadn’t heard the kernel of his mumblings but for their cadence, and by their choked volumes guess the old veterans meanings. Garrowgar had come all the way from Silvermist to settle away from conflict, yet found new conflict trying to even speak.

Alone and on top of the the shell, Barrac thought he heard the same murmurings again, conveyed on the swish and flow of the wind as it carried spoor to soil.

How long. How long had it been? Barrac needed to piss, and not just from lingering anxiety. He’d snuck an sip of fungus-rum from Jerren’s cabinet before leaving, in anticipation of the game and shell to come. Boy had that come back to bit him the taint. Barrac grimaced and thought about looking back at the others and calling it quits. Surely he’d gone longer than two minutes. That meant he could try and talk to Thrista again-

Vaguely, some in between the pop and whizzbang that followed, Barrac recognized the sound as a screechwick. It made it all the harder to hear the snickering and laughter that carried over the gale that was picking up, but some how his ears sounded it out. Barrac tumbled from the shell face first. Lens-first. At an angle that meant his lens bent, then snapped in two. Barrac coughed out a breath as the wind was knocked out of his chest as he hit the ground. He jerked his head up. In time to see a refracted version of Thurnin leading the others around the shell. All of them except Kryph were laughing and backslapping amongst themselves. Loud enough that Barrac could hear them laughing through the wind. Over the ringing in his ears. His broken lens cut Thurnin in half, like part of him was a little bit over his midline. Barrac coughed again and scrabbled for his filters, hunching over it so that none of the spoors got on the adhesive part. He stuck it over the bottom part of the lens and let out a half-sigh half gasp, then fought back the urge to take off his headmask and gulp down air. That would be stupid and he was feeling a stupid of a different kind.

Laughing. Everyone was laughing and tittering over the rustling of the spume that the wind carried. Barrac blinked back tears and clutched at the dirt. His fist were knotted with a rage that carried him forward into Thurnin’s midsection, shoulder-first. He drove the wind out of the older boy like the fall from the shell had done for him. The momentum and sheer shock of the blow was enough to carry both of them down onto their backs and knees respectively, with Barrac on top. Thrust downward with a pair of gloved knuckles and drove them into Thurnin’s neck. Just enough to make it harder for him to get that breath back. It was the only useful thing Jerren had ever taught him.

Normally, in the scraps and fights that the boys held for dominance with one another, there were certain rules. One didn’t aim for the heads or the groin, nowhere that would call attention to the conflict once the test of masculinity was over and the winner had been decided. One also didn’t bite or scratch either. It was the grappling, and the strength of those who participated that decided the outcome. Barrac abided by nothing. He hammered a gloved fist into Thurnin big bug-eyed lense, shattering it into mirror of his own optical. He drew back and repeated the offensive, heedless of the spoors and their whisking in the wind. Tears made a blurry outline of Thurnin’s face, and on the third blow Barrac felt something give in the older boys face. He must have. How else could their be screams over the wind?

Other voices were being raised in tune with Barrac’s gnashing and shouting. He felt two pairs of vice clamp over his biceps then heave. Barrac held on to Thurnin’s safesuit and lodged a knee right in his solarplexus blind with rage but for the small splinter of gratitude which he held in his heart. Apparently Jerren’s anatomy lesson had left an impression. He followed it up with another blow and Thurnin screeched and pushed over as fear overcame his pain. It connected with Barrac chest just in time with another hoist that saw him pulled clear of Thurnin’s form. Barrac launched a febble kick at the enemy’s shin, but missed as he was yanked out of range. He struggled, a little bit miffed, a little bit stung to see Thrista helping Thurnin up and still very angry. He wasn’t done yet.

Barrac bit at the air cushioned in between his mask and face. Instinct laden rage told him to go forward, to tear his mask from his face and beat and bite and tear into the enemy until there was nothing left. A more rational part-the part that found sense in Kryph’s yellings on his left-felt shameful defeat at how wrong giving up felt, even if it was the right thing to do. The wind ebbed a little and Kryphs shouting got louder as more sense eroded away at Barrac’s rage. He slackened a little. A lesson maybe? He didn’t want Thrista to be afraid. Come to think of it he didn’t want anyone to be afraid of him. Maybe a little more respectful-

A lone figure strode through the haze of wind and spoor that, alarmingly, had begun to pool on the ground. Barrac squinted through one and a half lens at the figure-a woman-and slackened even more. All the blood had left his fists and jaws to pool somewhere else.

She was beautiful and that made Barrac all the more glad for the violence he inflicted. It meant that everyone, even the ones who’d hauled him away, had their backs turned to her and that meant that the view was his alone. Her hair was a white blue flecked with bits of blonde-gold and a soothing green, all the more impressive for the fact that it defied whatever pull Mother Hanruni exerted on it, stand tall in a large beehive of a spume. None of the spoors in the air touched her, nor did any of the soil she walked on mar her dress and gown. Her face was almond perfectly shaped, framed by a pair of dark green eyes that, at least to Barrac, spoke of a secret sadness, talked of in verses that only they were party too.

She was among them now, and Barrac felt his rage ebb to flecks in the face of her radiance. Every spore that struck his face-when had he taken off his mask?-was rapture on his skin. The grass plucked at his feet beckoning him towards her. He knew he had to be fast. The others-the others-the enemy seemed to have the same idea. He would have to be fast. But first he would listen to what she had to say. Her words were borne by the wind, carrying promises of a beautiful world. A beautiful Hanruni. All for him.

Behind Barrac, the carapace shivered and rose in time with the others underneath it.


Hanruni. Hear my prayers. Let me dream again.

Daena Stellacy stared through eyes that were no longer her own at the handiwork which she had wrought. Months of similar incidences had worn away at her will to fight back. Too tired to resist such a simple a gesture as caressing someone across the face. There was a time when her will could have moved hills for the communes. Heh. Stellacy blinked-but-didn’t as the thought thrust into her synapses. Still hanging on, mm? She steeled herself against the influence. Against the plant or the formian or whatever it was that they had found in the tunnels. And you never will know either. She tried, and failed, to wipe a hand across her face. Anything was better than what she was seeing.

Each the of the figures around her-biomass, the fungus corrected-had begun gestating. Stellacy’s new eyes, the ones pioneered and commandeered by whatever malign influence suffused her, highlighted every detail. Skin cells fought a rapidly losing war with invasive fungi. Eyes and livers had given way to fronds of mushrooms and lycans, each a separate strain unto its own. Each of the figures (biomass) were rooted in place as the fungus made her dance about them with a cold indifference, so that she might see her handiwork up close. The tenants of the Lucky Herbivore had said that all life was sacred and should be marveled upon, regardless of form. If the fungus had allowed for it, Stellacy would have vomited. Heh. She felt herself swell as the last of the gestation protocols was instilled into the youths below her, then proceeded onwards, towards the town.

Had she known its name once? Her pact with the Herbivore had necessitated travelling from town to town. Every town had its own name for the rostrum as, like most religions, you were either in or you were out with the Herbivore. Or the Church of Tru-Stellacy doubled over as the fungus exerted a contortion over her body, doubling her over ever as her left eye snaked outwards into an oracular apparatus so that she could view her own punitive transmogrification. No. No. NonononoNO. I am. The servant. Of the Lucky Herbivore. I will not. Yield in the fac-Havent you heard? It’s the Tiger now. Stellacy was turned upright as the last of her arm re-collapsed back into itself. The Fungus marched her onward, with only the motion of her body to register locomotion.

As Daena trudged on, the haze that suffused the town thickened until it was lost to sight. Until there was nothing left but the soft patter of spoor on people-biomass-falling to the ground as the plant overwhelmed their defenses. Stellacy was aware of this peripherally. The fungi-plant? Is there a difference?-was showing her something else. She was-

-ack before the tunnels with Old John Strong and Smudge and the Mad. Sitting around a table discussing their fortunes of what what was to come. . “I says we go forward frontways, like a bull. Such is the only surety of victory. Decisiveness. Boldness. Strength. Those are the things that determine a victor in conflict.“ She felt trapped, lodged at the table and unable to move from it. “Ah but can strength nae be turned back onisself twentysome, were someasscuh villain might employ a dastardly trick afore this fair party of folk?” Part of Stellacy, a real physical part that replaced the injuries she has sustained in her capture by the formians, twitched at the words of a long since dead Murko. She felt the twinge in her: left eye right lung a 3 full tracts of intestine and many too many muscles that all ached from the sensations the memory impinged upon her. And locomotion. Stellacy balled her fists up just as she had in the memory: clasped together under the table, with both sleeves obfuscating any frustration that might have shown. Smudge’s turn now. “What say you, Sister Stell-“

The tunnels now. It always came back to the tunnels, in one way or another. Whatever was in her liked to trot out the memory and put it on display. And the irony of it was that it worked: everytime the failure replayed Stellacy found the few writs of inaction she had left debased and shirked of courage. Getting smaller and smaller. Everyday. She looked up from the soil of the tunnels towards the sterness that Old John strong held in his face.

“Stellacy, with your light we cannot fail, woud you guide us?”

“Daena, with you its ok. With you Im…not scared anymore.”

“Cisterna Stellaciky with your accumensa and cognifications wefoursome will see this set right”

Correct. No. No **** you. You don’t-You don’t-You don’t get to have this-this part of me you don’t. So **** you. **** the herbivore. **** Old John Strong and his decrepit pride. **** Smudge and their affections and **** Murko and the idea that I should have done more than I could h-Something shattered inside Sister Daena Stellacy’s mind, never to be put back again as her thoughts aligned themselves with the bitterness of what gestated inside her. A spectrum of sensations bombarded her. A great volcano of spumes powering skywards. An alien configuration in the sky, laden with xenolife. A great all consuming sorrow, prefaced by abandonment then coddled in indifference. Limitless indifference.

She opened her mouth to scream, and the village (Onestreet) was revealed for what it was. Stellacy damned the Herbivore for the last, and perhaps final time in her life. She-Stellacy-moved and her arm moved with her. She-her and the fungus, that was what it was- stared down at her hand, at every cell replete with the possibilities within. At every myofibril and hyphae, every tendon and chlorophyll, every osteoblast and fungus ridden fissure. All of it beautiful and full and so, so yearning to break free and expand upon the mother that rejected it. Stellacy asserted herself. It was important that the plant knew what her goals were. That meant they could better align. Upon the deities that reject it.

Onestreet was on display: a commune in which no thought or want or need existed but for Their own. All had shuffled to the center of the state: a great pale obelisk set in stone. Stupid. Stellacy cried-nae wept- with joy as her fingers blebbed into trusses of-of-of vines that clutched at the statue, only to push inwards, violating the statues sacred marble as it pushed outwards to encapsulate the whole of the structure. Stellacy couldn’t remember what the statue had stood for. Didn’t care. Had never cared. They had to designate some sort of staging area.

She screamed again and this time the fungus-that was what it really was, she’d known it she’d always know I've always kn-screamed with her. The whole of Onestreet, their vocal chords momentarily sedate in torpor, sprung to action and wailed with her in the agony of a lost faith. Lost trust. As one, as every person animal or structure yes structure for They would leave nothing behi-, sprung into motion, all of them-the biomass-gestating and devouring and procreating and sporulating towards the other ones-the other Stellacy (Stellacies?) in the sky. Stellacy raised her hand towards the molten orb that dared to backlight the sky-her sky. Their sky.

The biomass began to orient itself, some of it moving to place itself at the optimum position, some growing new forms inside itself. They directed it all like a master maestro might conduct a junior orchestra, deriving it into a great pillar of matter that pushed upwards. Not a hyphae out of place. Stellacy took moment to marvel at the column of flesh and fungi and promise that erupted upwards, away from Hanruni. Limbs twitched amidst hyphae amidst mold amidsts yeasts as every cell teemed with life and Their promise. Unity and community. Always. Stellacy stepped and let the column take her upwards, timing each step on a hyphae step until she was at the tower’s apex. Just as the column reached its apogee. They held out a hand-a fist like the youth had held or like what his non-father had held when he struck him- and eclipsed the sun in her hand. Brightness swelled out around the edges of her main hand and Stellacy smiled in time with the fungus, glad for the synchronicity and its accompanying sense of belonging. Mother (herbivore).Do you see me now, so far above you and yet umbilicaled to you by our own failures?

Stellacy paused. There was an absence in her senses. A lack of response that spoke to those who yoked under the Herbivore’s service. She spread her arms wide at the temerity-the indignation-of ignorance. Stellacy-and-The-Fungus spoke with the Oneness of their being. "Sapients. Biomass. Hanruni. Know that when I-




scream into your soul, it is with legion voices,
When your marrow and eyes slough from their orbitals, fit for naught but dirt and soil
Know it is devoured with endless mouths.
When your minds are reduced to squabbling and portioning out scraps to the least worthy,
Know that it is at the cognification of an omniscient mind.
When I shatter your wills, know that it comes at ten decatillion limbs.
I will take you to a unity without end. Welcome me or dispair, but know that your biomass will be added to the Combine.


Hey all, glad to see everyone in the game! Oh and also I declare war on everyone.

[GameOfChampions]

Legion of Balance
Mor 5

A lean sandy haired man in casual commoners clothes disembarks a standard trade ship, shouting goodbyes to the sailors he seemingly befriended before heading down the docks towards to Oprak. Taking in the sights of the city, and relishing the chance to interact with goblins and not be worrying about getting stabbed, he slowly starts to acquire a feel for these new 'good' goblins. Well they definitely seemed to fall in the 'good' side of the scale so it seemed like ol' Lady Balance called it right again.

The common looking man approaches the great building the summit is being held in, as he approaches he holds out the symbol of the Legion of Balance. He calls out "I am Randy, an associate of the Legion of Balance who was inducted for my... unique abilities with the Goddess of Balance. I have been empowered by her to come and channel the idea of Balance."

As he approaches he stops and closes his eyes as he clutches the symbol to his chest, divine power starts to coalesce around him in a powerful aura. As he opens them his eyes burn a deep black, his entire body leaking divine power carelessly as if he has power to burn. When he speaks his voice shakes the air and a powerful female voice overlays his own "Balance has come to this summit. We will judge the scales between good and evil accordingly.

Hail the Forces of Good,

The Lady of Balance has spoken. She has decreed that the scale has tipped towards the forces of Good in Hanrui and this cannot stand. Balance must be found among all things, from Nations to Heroes. Reduce yourselves from your pedestals and crusades to the path of neutrality of face my judgement and the wrath of my Legions.

Regards,
Saladrahal,
The Goddess of Balance,
Supreme Commander of the Legions of Balance

This is not a deceleration of war but a warning from the Legion. Continue to fight for the forces of good and risk war.


Brotherhood of Sin
Mor 3

A small but powerful Imp, wreathed in dark magics, approaches as a powerful Pit Fiend lounges on his throne with a skull chalice slopping blood red wine all over his chest. "The Brotherhood always has need of amusements, gold and weapons. Our legions need armaments, food, and supplies to spread through the world. However, why should we trade when we can take. Our legions can sweep across these lands, take what we need and summon what we don't find with our dark magics."

After their audience the envoy is given the run around until they leave.

Solid proposition but no reason to do so. Your low Rep is working against you here.

Greetings to the Flesh Weavers of Khasal,

We will always desire friendly borders, however why should we not destroy our enemies on all sides. Break all who stand against us until all our our slaves, subjects, or a destroyed. Then we will be bordered by none except who we wish. The Flesh sculptors would make fine vassals. Swear to us and you may yet live to see a friendly border.

Izoran,
The Unchained,
The Bloody Handed,
Slayer of N'crahteps,
You Future Master

No real reason and low rep equals targets not allies.

GM

Greetings Psionic ONes,

Your magics are not my own yet you are powerful and news of your appearance has shocked the world over and intrigued many, myself included. I am especially intrigued by your mention of my esteemed ancestor, it would be a magnificent thing to see the Pyresoul in his prime... and possibly to bring him down in the ultimate sign of power. I await to hear your offer and reasoning for my esteemed self.

The Magnificent

[St.Just]

The Free City of Khasal

An excerpt of successful motions of the Autumnal Assembly, Year 9 of the City, as compiled by Far Shores Brokerage and News

-As the Zephyr finds offensive locked cages and closed doors, it is unbecoming for a city partially his an arcane and forbidden prison. And so the City offers a bounty to all brave souls willing to risk life and achieve glory plumbing its depths. (proposed by a partisan of the Magnificent Vyas Asraya)

-As the City has begun to reach out into the world in trade and diplomacy, it is only natural that its own borders should grow and it should establish colonies and protectorates to more firmly secure itself upon the continent. And so Vyas Asrays, Beloved of Glory, is charged with the raising of an army and the establishment of peace and liberty along the Broken Coast. (proposed by a partisan of the Magnificent Vyas Asraya)

-Since everyone else with a shred of self-respect is getting together to start writing maps and treaties, and since it would just embarrassing to not attend, Corin Letera is charged with travelling to the city of goblins and representing the City’s interests there as Ambassador. (proposed by a partisan of the Esteemed Corin Letera)

-The Next Assembly will be held on the spring solstice of Year 10, and be preceded by the Festival of the Muse (proposed by the Exalted Lia Misri)
Morale 2/Essentially Public


The scroll is read aloud, to much laughter and jeering. The angel’s retreat is marked by a barrage of rotten vegetables and a few skyracers making a game of trying to pluck a feather.

Somewhere along the journey back, the angelic messenger might notice itself being followed by itself in miniature-or an excellent attempt as such in origami, anyway. The magic animating it expires moments after it traces the angel’s path back to its origin, unfolding neatly into a reply.

All are welcome to preach as they like in the Free City, but anything made of nothing but whispers and masks won’t be well received by the crowd. If your voice wishes to be heard, then it should send a representative to make its case. I, at least, will be happy to hear it and offer a reply.

-The Magnificent Vyas Asraya, Great Man of the Republic.





The strange messenger reads the reply himself, or at least seems to-his eyes changing colour as soon as he opens the letter. When he finishes, he shudders and convulses for a moment before replying

“And what would we swear? And who are ‘we’? I might agree to whatever groveling you require, and when it becomes inconvenient I might tear out the tongue that so defiled itself, and replace the knees that deigned to kneel with some more proud. Just as my city might do the same. Shall we elect a king to swear fealty to you, so we might make a spectacle of sacrificing him when the charade wears thin?

Perhaps I spoke too grandly. Style yourself Prince of the Earth if you like-in the long run I am already damned, and the distant future doesn’t much concern me. But you have only so many armies, and so many lands to march them against. Might it not be prudent to focus first on those who already consider themselves your foes?”




The Intrepid Atena Nalara (Tier 1 ADV) and 4 ADV will get as far into the Old Palace as they’re able.

[Writtensanity]

The flagstone steps of the Fortress of First words whispered to the paladin as he climbed them. It seemed like every day the staircase got longer, winding down the cliff-side closer to the ocean. For a while the Paladin’s had simply used a natural pathway to move from ship to shore, but there was now time to let the Fortress of First words feel like home.

Home was a weird concept to the Paladin, he was thousands of miles away from the orphanage that had never really felt like a house. He was separated from his adventuring party who had been his first family. He had spent his twenties finding a home in the tents between towns but once he’d heard the voice...

The Voice had become home.

His party had understood once they heard the Voice. A calm reassurance that seemed to only be talking to you. The Voice, she, had time for everyone. She have conversations instead of scriptures, discussions instead of speeches. She was a never-silent companion through everything you needed to do. There wasn’t a home you needed outside of the voice.

The Paladin pushed open the large doorway of the fortresses’ side courtyard and the repurposed ship wood creaked as it got out of the way. Inside the walls of the fortress there were groups of Paladins shuttling materials back and forth, everything from grains to metals being heaved around in bags from the old world. The Paladin slipped between the ranks of workers and carrier on, deeper into the fortress.

Though the Paladin had found home in the Voice, he was one of the few who still spent his time looking for something. In the old world that had meant wandering the wastes to find new treasures to bring to the church. Over here in the new world it meant charting paths between mountains and rivers, making a map of Hanrui for the church to follow.

At least it had been that.


A week before Grand Voice Sylas had pulled him home from his journey out into the wilderness. The ancient angel explained that there was something that needed to be explored back at the fortress, but wasn’t willing to explain anything more outside of the fortress walls.

The Paladin took a left and started down a dark and damp staircase that had been hastily carved by magic down into the cliff. The light warmth of the fortress snapped to cold as soon as he was below ground. The mirror was close.

“ D̝̖̙̹̥̳͇̕o͓n̴̠’͈̙̠͍͕ț̷̗ ͓̟͎͚͓͢w̞̤̻̤͝o̧̱̜͉r̴̭ŕ͕ͅý̦ ͎̙͓̰̗̦ͅ,̰̭̭͓͍͡ ̖̜̠̖̪ͅm̲̜̻̗̹̝ͅy̤͡ ͏͚v͓̜͉o̭̪̰̦̩ͅi̡͚͔͙̘c̪̖̝̖͍͖e͚ ̸̥̻̜ͅi̴s̢̳ ͎͖̣̜͡ẉ̤í̫t̙͡h̶̻̞̲̯͖̠ ̤̀y̞͍̲͙o̧̠͓̳̠̖̮u̪̮͖̙͔”


The Paladin smiled as the heat of the voice filled his chest like a hearth. As long as she was there with him, he was prepared to go into the lands beyond.

At the bottom of the staircase was a room filled with silver strings that cross-crossed across the floor with every strand eventually ending on the edge of a large mirror that was laid out on the floor. The Paladin took a step toward the mirror and his footsteps rang silent on the stones. For a moment it gave him pause.


“Th̛͜e̕͟ ̴͢f̷̢͝à̢̨i҉͞th͡f͠u̴̢͞l̨ ̵́͏ẃi҉l͝l ̴͘͟ne͢v̴͘e̛r͏ ̷̕͞ḱ̛͟no͞͠͞w͘͞ s̡͟íl̛͜͡e̷nc̸͘͡e͢͡ ̴è͜v̧͡ȩ̴n ̡̢̀in҉ t́͏hà̷t͘ ͠p̵ļacè̷̀.̵“

The Paladin nodded, he was listening. He was ready for anything to come from the other side of that mirror. The Shadowlands beyond meant nothing to him.



I am sending The Grand Voices Hybert, Dawn, Jeleva and Myra along with my two points of ADV into the shadow mirror.



------

Outside the Fortress


Angel Vintra sighed as he fluttered down from her perch on the battlements. She had seen this man following her across the deserts and over the oceans. He had been tenacious if nothing else but she had been hoping that he would leave.

The instructions with the letter had been clear, it was to be dropped off at each nation and then you flew away, no question on answer period, no negotiations, that was all for the voices.


S̡̖̞p̡̳̼̞̬̣͔̪e̴̙̲͎̘̭͙̜̪a̴̦͓̳͇̝͚̖͢ķ̼̝͈͈͇̟̀̀ ̸̭̹̞͖̙͔͓͘t̷̴̳̠͉͍̖̭̕ò̬͎͕̘̪͇͙̰͞ ̛͎̱͢h̝̱̯͟i̵̢̝̝͘m̖͙̗̥̪̤̹͈͟͠ ̼̖̝̤̦̩͟s͕̫̯̯͙̙̼̗̻͠o̲̹̙̼̱͢͝ ̦̥̝͓t̳̰̣̪̠̜̯h̻͇̼̦̫̲a̷̰͔̯̯̠̺t̢̝̝̠͚̜̝ ̧̠̮h͏͡҉̱̟͖e҉̨̦̝̦̭ ̸̱͟m̡̺̙͓̱̖̙̜̫͟á̩̩͡y̹͎̝̤̠͘ ̼͕̗͕̙̙̳̫͠b͓͕̲̫̤̤̘͎͡e̶̡͚̺͈̬͠ ̢̮̰͝h̵̘͖̖̦e̸̶͓̪̭̙̦͕̘á̱͚͕l͏̸̫̠̮̺̬̠́è͎d̪̝.͙̟́͠ ̴̡̡̙͎̲̯
̸͍̲̘̯̦̱̦S͝͠͏̙p̴̶͙̪̲̞̙͙̤͓ę̷͉̹̥a͢͢͏̘̼̻̤̞k̛͏̲̪̭͖ ̣̤̝͕ ̸͕̖̬͕͖t̶͉͎̺̘͖͓̖͟o̵̡͕̬͉͈͍ ̦̙̜̻h̰̘̬̩̕i̟̬̬͍̭͔̥̠m̯̜̱̱͉̦̦͘ ̻̖̰̟̪͎ş̘̯͉͘̕o̯͉̟͡ ̧̟̱͍̟̺̦̳͓t̛͈̳h̸҉͎̪͕̹͕ͅa̷̷͏̯̹̹t҉̼͔͙̟͓ ҉̰̪͇͝h̶͍̫̹̗͍̫̩̖e̹ͅ ̥͓̹̕͝m̦͢a͍̙͖̼̺͞ý̴̘̥̘̯̪̪̺̜̠ ̶̞̳̫̳̘̪̘̰͝͞b̡̻͕͈͚̟͜͡ͅe͞͏̠̲̟̲̪̞ ̝̬̣̤̬̬͎͕͈͜t̨̛͙̞̫͎̱̬̳r͇͙͉͙̞u̜͉͡͞ş̴̣̯̱̙̦̯̻̝t̢̫̮͓͚e̵ ̰̦́ͅͅḑ͓̘̰̦̝.͓̙̠̙͜͞ͅ
̹̕͟ͅS̡͘҉̱̝͖̰͈̠͎̠̫p͖̼̬̳̳̭e҉̼̙̯̟̪̪͖̯̙à̗͕̞͖̝ḱ̕͝ ̜͔̲ ̢̨̖̺t̢̧̢̗͙͉̯̬͎̙̬̪o̟̞͓̦͖̖ ̫̯͚̕͠h҉͕̝̦͓̺͇͉͙̩͢i͇͙m̟͇̟̩ ͔̲̺͓͕̮̤ͅs҉̴̳̭͘o̺̜͙̞̟̗̥ ̴̝͕̩̞̙̩͡t҉̨̤̲̱͕̞̦h̸̩̭͓ͅa̷̶̸̹̠͙̙̮t̢̛̟̹̠̠̦ ̦̯̰̯̰͞h҉͈͉̺e̵̬͙̮͞ ̶͢҉͉̰͚m̟̭͞à̳͈̯͇͞y̴̶̟̳͎ ̧̤̠͘͘u͎͎̬͜n̵̠̤̪͓͈d̻̜͍́ḛ͓͚r͕͇͈̮̱͙s̭͠t̴̰͙͡a̶͉̠͡ń̺̰ ͇d̖̭̬̀͠.͏̗̺̱̫͍̹̘


Vintra landed on the steps in front of the of the pilgrim of Shemesh that had come to the fortress.

"We are in no great peril pilgrim. Our guardians are our angels, and many of them like myself were once human as you are. The sound of the voice carries us to a higher power. Vintra started her next, less welcoming point but

B̲̜͕͕̖̟͓̹̜͓̟̀̀͝͠e̷̤̺̫̼̕͜ͅ ̷̣̫͇̘̭̖͈̰̭͝k̺̻̺͉̜̯͔̮̳̤̻̟̼͘͘í̧̦̞͇̼̯̺͔̮͍̼̲͖̱͉̘̺̝͟͡ͅ n͏̧̮̗͍̱͝͝d҉̸̴̣͈͕̦̩̪̺̬̝̦̳̰͢ ̴̸̞̱̦͉̭͓͜͟s̸͍̤̠̯͙͉̺̘̬͎̳̗̰͔̮͝ǫ̛̳͎̭͓̯̬̺̹̣̲̫̥̙͡ͅ ̝̖̙ ̸̱͚̜̥̭̝̮̥͉̠̘̗̩̫̼̬̤͢͟͝ͅt͏̸̶̴̦̠̥͖̜̯̘̤͓̥̯̘̀ḩ̸͔͉͈͕͙̱͖ ̙̼̫̪̤͚̲͚̟̯a̶̷̡̼͔͝ͅt̷̡̛͕̯̲̹͚̹̗̻̜̣͍̟̟͍̭̩̲͕̀͢ ̵̶̛̻̥̯̖͚̱̙̫̘̣͔͉̜͝ͅh̸̟̪͓̰̹͍̣̝̖͘͘͜é̴̛͎̟̦̞̪̣͈̻͜ ̵̧̫͓̱̣̘̫̀ͅm̶̡̠̝̙̪̬͖̩͖̳̤̰͘a͏̧̛̛̫̩̗̪̳͈̝͈̱̙͖̙͙̤͙̪̀ͅͅy ̸̮̺͖̱̬̰̣̲̰͉̕͘͟ ̵̡̳̭̳̩͉̟̥̰̬͎̭͉̖̘͈͇̤h̶͘͏̡̱͇̖̭͚̫̟̹͖̺̤ͅe̴̺̰̤̗̮͢͞a̷̡͟ͅ ̦̗̜̞̤̘͓͕̺̝̥͉͔͕̰̠̖r̸̡̝͍̙̟̗͉͓͜ͅ ̷̴̙͖̖͙͖̳͎̲̣̟̗͈̯m̴̧̭̙̻̮̤͈̬̥͍̺̖̙̣̟͘͟͠ͅe̛̳̯̼̲̖͈̥̥͍͚͈͡ ̼͉̩͙̗̱͚ ̷̴̟̭̱̺͔̫̲̤̺̜͍̠͕̱̳̪̜̠͠y͏͕͉͖̟̟͚̙͔͈̕o̡͏̷̠͙̗͙̯͉̥̝͈̠̫̀ͅ ̬͎u̫͖̖̜̭̯͚͙͚̦̬̯͙̞͜͢͢ń̸̼̗̩̳͓̞̯̮̲̯͝͠g͏҉̵̧̱͍̭̺̥͚͔̦͎̩ ͇̺̙͉̫̲ͅͅ ̷̢̛̫͈̫͚̲̟̪̗͈̥̱͓̬̥̦͝o̵҉̱̠̟͇͡ṋ̷̜̰͕̗̼͎̞̟͈͓̀͘͘͝e̴̶̫̖̺ ̼̼̯̣.̸̴͖̗̻̳͔̗̳̟́̕̕ͅ

"If you wish to see our fortress you are welcome to walk our halls and hear our history. If you are simply looking to offer aid we are honored by your attention but your aid isn't needed at this time." The welcome from the angel sounded different from her original greeting, as if her words were only partially her own.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Legion of Balance

Djehu stood before one of the Paladin fortresses of the Legion of Balance and did so with some unease. He took a deep breath and his mood lightened, the unease fading. Looking up, he knew the Light was always there, even if shrouded by clouds. Moving forward, the tanned man, hailed the guard at the fortress.

“The Light of Shemesh is radiant. I am Djehu of the Theocracy of Shemesh. Saladrahal has sent a message to the Theocracy warning to move to a path of neutrality. I have come to illuminate the path to know what it means. May I be permitted entry to learn what balance it is the Legion seeks?”

[GameOfChampions]

Legion of Balance


Theocracy of Shemesh

“The Light of Shemesh is radiant. I am Djehu of the Theocracy of Shemesh. Saladrahal has sent a message to the Theocracy warning to move to a path of neutrality. I have come to illuminate the path to know what it means. May I be permitted entry to learn what balance it is the Legion seeks?”

Soldiers rest at ease along the battlements of the fortress, wearing blackened steal armaments and flying a flag with the scales of balance tipped towards the shadowy void on the left and the blinding light on the right raised higher. Only a few weeks ago this fortress would have seen the reverse, soldiers in brightly polished gleaming steal with white enameled shields and a flag showing the light weighing more heavily.

Soon the senior Paladin in charge of the fortress joins the pilgrim, leaving the fortress to parlay outside the gates. "Greetings Pilgrim of Shemesh. We will not allow you within our fortress but I will parlay with you out in the sun. You have received our warning yet we do not expect your faithful to head us. Were this only a few short years ago we would have fought by your side and defended you with zeal. Now however the balance tips in the other direction, with the forces of good so prominent in these lands. With this inequality between the forces of good and evil we only expect disaster to befall this land. Unless large forces of good abandon their path for neutrality or evil we will be forced to rectify this imbalance with force. We do not expect your adherents to abandon your god of light or bringing radiance with you as you travel through the dark and dangerous, nor the other nations their gods or morals. That is admirable and we do not expect otherwise but that leaves us with our one course of action."

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Djehu looked at the battlements filled with black, the scales of balance visible on the flags with weight going towards the shadowy void. His eye is drawn to the blind light raised higher, until the senior Paladin speaks up before Djehu. The tanned man listens and nods in agreement with parlaying out in the sun. There is a smile as the light of the sun shone over Djehu. It was replaced by a thoughtful look as the Paladin continued.

“The Light of Shemesh illuminates us. Thank you for parlaying. Here is a good place. I am glad you do not expect us to abandon the ways of Shemesh, for the Light of Shemesh is radiant and everlasting.”

“Yet you bring reason for great concern! You speak of disaster to befall these lands. So please, cast light on this matter so I can better understand. What happens if there is an inequality between the forces of good and evil? What darkness looms in disaster?”

“I am curious about the warning and wish to learn more about your place in the Light. What is, to you, good and evil? Am I correct you consider the Theocracy of Shemesh, the Church of the Truth Speaker, the Astral Collective, the Ironfang Republic, the Pillar of Wisdom, the Dwarves of Khazn Durn and Silvermist the forces of Good? And the Fungal Combine, the Free City of Kasal, Balam, the City of Wraiths and the Brotherhood of Sin as evil? Or are there neutrals amongst the last named? Why are each of them to you, good or evil?”

“Under the Light of Shemesh, how do you weigh when the forces of good and evil are in balance, or are not? Simply a count of factions, so that is by what I just said seven to five, thus an imbalance, whereas if it were six to six, it is in balance?”

[GameOfChampions]

Legion of Balance

The Paladin shrugs, the shrug of a career soldier who has seen much of the world. "The same disaster that befalls any area solely dominated by the forces of good or evil. Where Evil rules good cannot abide, crusades sweep in and good destroys all that may be evil. Where Good rules Evil must tarnish, torture and rebellions corrupt the forces of good until they can no longer be called such. The teachings of our goddess and our own experience, tells us that a balance between the two is needed. it keeps the powerful forces of both sides ambivalent to the situation and the local forces to occupied there to make trouble elsewhere."

We have judged your nations by morals presented, gods followed, and our goddesses whispers. She is ever correct. Our purpose has been determined, we will fight along the side of evil for the next ten seasons. Then our goddess will weigh the balance and set us on our path once more. If at that point balance is in place between nations of good and evil we fight to uphold it ruining those who would cast down another."

"We do not trust nations to tell the truth under the threat of war. A nation deemed as good may plead neutrality when our armies march near but rarely do they mean it and even more rarely do they not slip back into old ways."

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Djehu listened to the words and considered it. Fleeting moments pass, before he looked at the Paladin again.

“Shemesh is good, so difficult to argue with you there, unless you have a different view of what is good. This balance sounds odd to me, though. Are you saying if Good wins, it will grow complacent and not notice a festering Evil corrupting it, or it draws many Evil from elsewhere causing disaster?”

“If the latter.. would it be right for me to say that the continents of Hanrui, each individually, should be in balance as well, so that the forces on each continent are too occupied to trouble the others?” The man looks up, then back at the Paladin, hoping he has gained a bright insight.

Doing nothing for the Midturn.

[GameOfChampions]

Legion of Balance

A small grin slips across her face for a second before returning to passive determination. "We tend to look upon areas that share the same sphere of influence and interaction rather then physical landmasses."

"We find that it can either or both. Some nations grow complacent and unwary to the forces of evil growing among them while others simply draw the ire of powerful forces. Sometimes it take years, other times decades or even centuries but it is always... inevitable. The longer we wait the worse it ends up being."

[GameOfChampions]

Midturn Results

Legion of Balance
Mor 5
The Legion of Balance sent 2 Adv into the Minotaur's Labyrinth and cleared 2 floors. They gained ancient potions ((+) Temp Adv), and a set of Mithral Dwarven Full Plate (+1 Mil Item).

Brotherhood of Sin
Mor 3
The Brotherhood of Sin sent 4 Adv into the Necromantic Palace and cleared 4 floors. They came back with scrolls for Zezzuzen to help her magical power, an ancient piece of art ((++) temp Rep), and a Berserker Axe (+1 Mil Item).

Pillar of Wisdom
Mor 4
The Pillar of Wisdom sent 2 Adv into the Warped Cave and cleared 2 floors. They came back with ancient scrolls ((+) temp Mag), and a Wand of Simulacrum (+1 Mag Item).

Ironfang Republic
Mor 5
The Ironfang Republic sent 2 Adv into the Crystalforge and cleared 2 floors. They came back with a small chest of ancient silver coins ((++)) temp Econ), and an ancient potion ((+) temp Adv).

The Fungal Collective
Mor 6
The Fungal Collective sent 2 Adv into The Open Cicatrix and cleared 2 floors. They came back with an ancient potion ((+) temp adv), and a piece of an ancient passage array.

Free City of Khasal
Mor 2
The Free City of Khasal sent 4 Adv led by the Intrepid Atena Nalar, Ruby-Eyed, Ruin-Seeker, Cartographer of the Perfected Map [Tier 1 Adventurer] into The Old Place and cleared 6 floors. They came back with an old wand((++) temp Mag), a handful of gems ((++) Econ), and a room of beautiful ancient statues ((++++) temp Rep). There were no complications.

Church of the Truth Speaker
4 Mor
They sent 2 Adv led by The Grand Voices Hybert, Dawn, Jeleva and Myra into the Mirror of Shadows and cleared 8 floors. They came back with ancient texts to help the martial abilities of The Grand Voice Dawn, a crate of ancient potions ((++++++) temp Adv), a large tapestry ((++) temp Rep), and an ancient necklace ((+) temp Econ). A Young Adult Shadow Dragon was unleashed from the dungeon!

Silvermist
Mor 6
Silvermist sent 3 Adv into the Feral Troll Tribes Den and cleared 3 floors. They also sent 2 Adv into the Pirate Fortress and cleared 2 floors. They came back with a bar of gold ((++) temp Econ), magical reagents ((++) temp Mag), a Flametongue +(1 Adv item), and an ancient saga of adventure ((++) temp Rep).

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to Legion of Balance

Djehu contemplates what was said.

"Illuminating. So an abundance of good, you say, will lead to, in time, a large disaster as bastions of good fall to corruption or ire. Which will be a disaster of far greater scale than local conflicts when good and evil are in balance. Did I cast the light correctly from the Legion's point of view?"

"What sphere of influence and interaction does the Legion acknowledge here in Hanrui, if they differ from landmasses?"

Public message to the Great Church of Truth

Nebtise looked shocked at the ahem explaining before her. "You're not in danger?" She cast her head high to the sky, opened her eyes widely, then she looked at the angel again, with a wary look. "Are you sure?"

Looking unconvinced, Nebtise looked at the angel and the fortress. "Alright. The Light of Shemesh guides me. May I be illuminated and cast light on the path before me." She then looked at the angel and offered a friendly smile. "Please, be my torch in this place, show me around and tell me about it and yourself. With help not needed, perhaps we may instead get to know another?"

[Hamste]

The Wraiths Morale 7


So we all went to the same peace meeting so we are all are at least somewhat work together. While we were there I got to thinking. What if all 3 of our nations worked together on a few delicate missions? With that many spies all working together it would be easy to rob a variety of potentially violent and profitable elements. Say for example we were to rob the Fungal Combine of a few valuable resources. You know weapons, magical items, luxury goods and the like. We could easily cripple their war efforts and make a much large profit than if we all individually targeted different nations.

Obviously the Fungal Combine aren't prime targets but I figured they would be the ones we are least argumentative about. If you have any better suggestions, I'm more than willing to listen to them.

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

The fire threw its heat onto Captain Goldfinder. It had been a week longer than he expected, and if Grock was here… but he wasn't. He muttered an enchantment and nodded.

"Update Nippwittlelict." He waited soon a response came.

"Success. Reefs cleared. Small islands next. Must return. Zero. Worth."

Captain Goldfinder smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. He looked around they grey that surrounded him without the noise, he wouldn't know that there were a hundred people here.

Out of the mist, a human officer of some rank came dragging a gnome. "Sir, this one… has created something."

"Oh?" Goldfinder smiled at the other Gnome.

"Yes Captain! It's a gas bomb, but it melts and rend flesh! It's just as effective against them as it is against us!"

Goldfinder nodded. "Good! Get him the materials he needs. We're pushing through to another level."

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Morale 6

I'm not sure if this is meant to be OoC - I'm replying as though the original message was IC.

The Astral Collective is willing to entertain the idea of cooperation towards a peaceful and prosperous Hanrui, as evidenced by our participation at the summit of nations. Direct collaboration in the manner you suggest, however, is currently out of the question. Perhaps in the future we would be willing to lend our aid against a greater threat, but for the moment we will not work with either of you outside the dictates of any agreement decided at the Ironfang summit.

Between your low rep and alignment differences, the Astral Collective is saying hell nah.

[Hamste]

The City of Wraiths Morale 7

Unfortunate, but I understand.

Yep, that is how Chemosh writes. He isn't overly formal.

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 5
Reputation 6

The Gates of Oprak

To say that Eygara watched the growing calamity with concern was something of an understatement.

First, the Pilgrim Mentawy - her charge for better or worse, as he had assured her that he would be enough to speak for the will of the followers of Shemesh - had been challenged by Ulrak and the rest of his yzobu regiment outside of Oprak’s walls. That was when the dawn crusaders had arrived. Within minutes, what had become a minor breach in protocol had devolved into a potentially continental gaffe, and it was all her fault!

Even as she watched, Ulrak and his troops were busy creating a loose cordon around the Pilgrim. The troops stayed back, but kept a perimeter to prevent Mentawy from running or charging ahead towards the distant city gates. Eygara felt her heart pounding. Her place was not to apologize, but as the champion of Shemesh was challenged not only by the gate guardian, but also by the Grand Voice Khal, the hobgoblin knight stepped forward.

"Grand Voice, Blade-Peer Ulrak, the fault here is mine. I was not diligent in checking the credentials of this traveler to speak for the flocks of Shemesh’s faith, and for that I must present myself to the elders for discipline. For the time being, I will also recommend that Pilgrim Mentawy be denied entry from Oprak or any council, and that a representative is returned to Shemesh’s people with a request to speak with the Archpriestess herself." After she was finished speaking, the mounted trooper turned to offer his farewell to the representative from the Church, having already moved his soldiers aside to clear the road for their delegation. As he met her gaze then, the gate captain’s eyes softened their mien. Riding his yak over to her, Ulrak paused before shaking his head.

"I will witness and pass on these actions, Eygara. However, I do not believe it will be the will of the council for you to be stripped of your position. Instead, I will send a hawk up to the Hall of Conquerors to inquire after next steps to deal with this... Mentawy character, along with your own recommended course of action. When we get a reply from them, we will proceed in due course."


Greetings esteemed civilians,

We are the Ironfang Republic, come here to this great land of Hanrui in order to better the lives of all goblin peoples. However, our mission does not preclude the well beings of other races, so long as they can prove that they can coexist peacefully with members of our race.

At the moment, our diplomatic efforts are caught up in other matters, but your input is important to us, as I plan on expanding the Republic’s armies north and west over the coming months. As is the custom for our people, expansion efforts will be led by my military forces, although we hope to keep all casualties to an absolute minimum. Therefore, we ask courteously that you refrain from resisting our march, and when you see my banners on the horizon, willingly join the Republic’s embrace.

Under the leadership of the Ironfang Republic, I can guarantee that you will be part of a prosperous and thriving enterprise. You will not be evicted from your homes; you will find that willing membership in the Republic means protection from monsters and other errant threats, regular food on the table, and order and civilization. The Republic wishes to bring only peace to Hanrui - let us both now be part of that movement.

- General Azaersi
Spending 2 ADV to clear a few floors into the Crystalforge. Results have already been posted.

[St.Just]

The Free City of Khasal


[Morale 2/Everyone but the NPC paladins can read]



Given the, ah, limited headway we’re making in the larger council, I can only say that I find your optimism and faith in diplomatic engagement deeply admirable, Master Chemosh. Regardless of what sort of binding results this endeavour has, I really do find both of you quite personally admirable, and hope to keep in regular correspondence over the coming years. You both share a tragically rare view of the wider context of the world, and it’s always refreshing to converse with those who already know all the necessary context.

Now, as to the particular suggestion brought forward in your last message, I must say that on behalf of myself and those in the City who share my particular skillset, I must decline. We simply have more pressing concerns closer to home, and are all tied up in the near-term besides.

In the future though, well, mutual cooperation and mutual benefit are both lovely sentiments to be able to put into action.

Best wishes and sincere regards,
The Esteemed Corin Letara, Friend of the People



The message is delivered by glittering constructs of glass and light, relaying the recorded voice of Vyas Asraya in full fidelity before falling apart in a shower of sparks. Remaining in the centre of the town square or throne room is a crystal bird holding a scroll of paper on which to write a reply. Depending on the message it carries back to Khasal, it will become a dove or a crow.

Hail to the people and princes of Quepta!

I speak with the voice of the future, and I come to offer you a choice. Your lush and pleasant land is caught within the vice of history, with only two possible escapes.

In one path you make the first choice of many, and welcome my armies and those of the glorious City of Khasal as brothers. You will be honoured as free and equal citizens, free to enjoy every sacred privilege that is your rightful birthright. You will achieve all you are truly capable of, and find that freedom defended by all the force and skill of civilization’s greatest savants.

In the other, you make the last choice you or yours will ever have the privilege of imagining. You bar your hearts and gates alike. Divided and suspicious, you are ideal victims of the Legions of chain and scourge. Your children will curse your names, if they are allowed time to remember them between the mine and the rack.

Speak amongst yourselves, and speak truly. Whatever consensus you arrive upon, record it and place it in the talons of my bird, so it might be returned to me.

Choose well.



[i]The messages are delivered by perfect origami swans of perfumed purple paper, soaring and flitting onto the writing desks and bedchambers of chiefs, petty nobles and patricians alike. Once touched by the intended recipient, they unfold to be read-and once a response has been composed (whether formally or simply in their mind), the letter reforms its text to reflect it, and refolds itself to deliver it.[i]

Hail to the Lords of the Broken Coast!

I write with joyous tidings, and an invitation to prosperity and progress.

The citizens of our glorious City have taken it upon themselves to explore the palace at our heart, and through their efforts recovered idols sublime in appearance and miraculous in aspect. Our scholars have discerned that they represent the gods and heroes who once graced your vital land, and so it is right that they might be returned to once against grace your temples and market squares.

Please, accept my hospitality, and voyage to my beloved City of wonders. In my house and amongst my people you will feast and celebrate unmolested, and see all the glories which surround our lives. And if all goes well, when you return to your home with new treasure, we will count ourselves blood brothers, and fellow citizens.

May your dreams burn themselves upon the world,
The Magnificent Vyas Asraya, Beloved of Glory, Maestro of Falling Stars, Great Man of the Republic.

[Writtensanity]

In the lands bordering the Church of the Truth Seeker, the skies are busy. Angles fly out at dawn near the end of the season to each town, village and tribe. They are carrying scrolls and speak with a chorus of voices in the town squares reading off the message.


To the citizens of the nearby lands,

I speak for Grand Voice Sylas, of the Church of the Truth Seeker.

Have you heard it? The whispering in your head that you ignored and called the wind. The call for you to change your path? The soft words to steady you through troubles?

I know many of your hear it, as I have heard it too. The Voice calls out to each of us individually and asks nothing. It does not need an answer, it does not need your devotion, but it is in your best interest to pay attention.

As the Voice spreads, the church follows. We humbly march in its wake to wave our banners high above blessed lands. We come to welcome new brothers and sisters into the fold of the Voice and her wonderful truth.

To those of you who have not heard it yet; rejoice, as the day your life changes has yet to come, but be warned, holding on to your old ways and ignoring those around you is a sure way to destruction. The Voice MUST call our across the lands and the church must follow.

Salvation awaits us all after this life, but a life spent spreading the Voice is a more noble path than skipping to salvation. If you must resist our arrival even as your peers welcome us with open arms, we will deliver you to salvation for the good of those willing to speak for the Voice.

Do not be scared children, the Voice speaks to all in time, but she sometimes needs time to find the words.

With the love of the Voice behind me.

Grand Voice Sylas

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 5
Reputation 6

Dear esoterics and grand philosophers,

We of the Ironfang Republic are dismayed that our conference at Oprak was cut short without a tangible alliance to show for it. However, I have taken note of the strength of character of the Astral Collective. The candor and integrity of your Twelfth Speaken Yonren particularly impressed me at the summit. Therefore, I will be sending along an envoy in the coming months to discuss extending talks between our nations as a matter of course. I hope that your interests and ideas for the preservation of Hanrui can align with our own in the future.

Furthermore, as a neighbor, the Republic has a small favor to ask of you. The Vales of Nen Tim [49] near the base of the Spearhead Peaks are currently situated directly between our two territories. As a point of courtesy, we will refrain from sending any of our forces or foreign relations agents into that region. However, we would ask that you return that courtesy. Our expansion efforts are currently aimed in directions other than potential allies, and we hope the same is true of your great nation.

Sincerely,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Ironfang Republic
Greetings crusaders and followers of the Voice,

We of the Ironfang Republic are dismayed that our conference at Oprak was cut short without a tangible alliance to show for it. However, I have taken note of the conviction of the Church of the Dawn Speaker. The piety and zeal of your envoy the Grand Voice Khal particularly impressed me at the summit. Therefore, I will be sending along an envoy in the coming months to discuss extending talks between our nations as a matter of course. I hope that your interests and ideas for the preservation of Hanrui can align with our own in the future.

Furthermore, as a nation without an official religion, we have noted that several hobgoblin scholars have taken up the way of the Voice. Many of us here at Oprak are curious about such a phenomenon, and would like to converse theology with your own prelates. Kraelos - a figure of some renown in our Republic, and the high priest of the Brothers in Arms - has expressed some interest in visiting your Fortress of First Words in the upcoming season. Please let us know if you would be amenable to such a visit.

Sincerely,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Ironfang Republic
Dear monarchs of the halls of Khazn Durn,

We of the Ironfang Republic are dismayed that you could not attend our peace summit in our city of Oprak. The delegates have since returned home, but we wanted to reach out to you personally, as we believe that our two nations share both borders and ideals. Therefore, I will be sending along an envoy in the coming months to discuss extending talks between our people. Dwarves and goblins have not always been friends, but we hope to change those relations moving forward. I hope that your interests and ideas for the preservation of Hanrui can align with our own in the future.

Furthermore, as a neighbor, the Republic has a small favor to ask of you. The Lantern Hills [38] that border the Sindar Ocean are currently situated between our two territories. Our commander in-chief General Azaersi has already made contact with the locals of the region, as we plan to expand our territory in that direction. We would ask that you refrain from sending your own forces to counteract our own expansion. In return, the Republic is happy to give your kingdom exclusive rights to [39]. We hope that this cooperation can be the first instance of many to come.

Sincerely,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Ironfang Republic

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

The Light of Shemesh leads the way
A brightly lit city awaits
A town kindled to the flames
Emblazed to a beacon of a city
Awashing Hanrui in Radiance
Behold Medju
The Capital of Light!

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/ShiningCitySmall.jpg
By Akila Yuki. http://akilayuki.blogspot.com/

The devout of Shemesh move onward, awakening the Light, kindling the flames of faith. They search a place for their luminous center to stand. Not only a source of worship, but of worldly governance and diplomacy. A symbol for the rest of the world to know the Theocracy of Shemesh by beyond the religion, the faith. A presence on earth, amidst the sands. To acknowledge them as nation, they claim, even as it will serve as a beacon of Light for the faith.

A market of goods, such as divine symbols, a forum of words, praising Shemesh, a bastion of defence, in faith of Shemesh, alleys, reflecting the Light in glass, magical songs and incantations, filled with holy scripture, tales of adventure in travel, to spread the Light. A Capital of Light, to be worldly and diplomatic, to establish connections and receive diplomats and merchants, yet already caught up in the vigour of faith, drawing those who already lived in that fated place to the worship of Shemesh with blinding insight, to see the brilliance of Shemesh.


Medju, the Capital of Light, will be found.

[LimSindull]

Some treacherous pirates and ravanous trolls have come under care. Would these be suitable? We hope that you find either coin or representatives available for the payment of those you have not paid for yet. ((OOC)) Sending 1 Military, offering 2 more ((Ooc))

[Janwin]

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn

King Thurgrin held his usual court where the citizens could call upon him for whatever matter they needed. It was a fairly normal affair, largely revolving around which settlement needed what goods, the comings and goings of trade vessels, and the updating of information regarding mining and production quotas.

But these normal affairs wasn't all that King Thurgrin had in mind at this time. He had the future of his Clan to consider, and their longevity in this new world. Much work had yet to be done. And the scouts had reported neighboring settlements to the northeast and west.

"Durstrim, my son. Come that we may speak.", the King beckoned his eldest son and General.

"Aye, father. What will you 'ave of me?"

"Send out yer scouts, lad, and find whatever land be unclaimed and able to grow crops to feed more mouths. When our riches flow back to the old world, more dwarves will surely come, and we must be ready."

The younger dwarf bows swiftly. "Aye, father. As y' wish."

The King then beckoned his Forgemaster, "Kargrin. Put all yer efforts for the season into building the hold. These mountains will be our home now."

A gruff nod from the wizened smith and he simply leaves the room to begin his work.



To Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued:

Our sincere apologies in not being able to attend the summit. It seems the messenger was delayed in making it up the mountain, for this second message only arrived shortly after the first.

We would have been honored to attend and share your belief that the best path forward for prosperity is through peace and building strong relationships with ones neighbors.

We are happy to agree to your territorial terms, and have no interest in expanding westward into such lands. We will expand around the harbor to provide security to the trade vessels coming in and out, and are further happy to guarantee safe passage to any of your vessels that need to make use of it or travel by river through our territory into your lands.

We look forward to a long future of prosperity for both our peoples.

King Thurgrin Wildhammer

Greetings to our northeastern neighbors.

In all truth and honesty, we have no idea of what voice you speak. We presume it is some sort of religion that you follow, though we've nothing in our books of history that speak of it.

In regards to the foothills south of your settlement, we would be willing to allow you that land uncontested for your arriving citizens, though we do have concerns about it being so close to our Hold.
Perhaps a trading partnership would help to encourage more trust for the future.

King Thurgrin Wildhammer

To Yonren, Twelfth Speaker:

Greetings to the Astral Collective.

I have no doubt that we can coexist peacefully in this new world. The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn has no interest in waging war on this continent if it is not forced upon us. Similarly, we have no plans involving your territories; aside from hopefully eventually the free travel of trading caravans.

As to expanding toward your borders, in full truth our expectation is to eventually need to expand south to hold the entire western shore of the great lake. Food does not grow well in the mountains, and thus we shall need the farmland to feed our people. We have no interest in expanding further south than that.

We look forward to speaking with you further in the future and building positive relations between our nations.

King Thurgrin Wildhammer

[GameOfChampions]

Turn 2

At his best, man is the noblest of all animals; separated from law and justice he is the worst."- Aristotle

Spring gives way to the burning hot summers and cool autumns of rest of the year. Dirt is baked under the sun, perfect for stomping feet of armies or the travel of emissaries. Summer is the season of war.

Expansion

Armies march, diplomats coerce, money talks, and spies extort. Across these lands towns, villages and resources are being snapped up. The methods vary but the end results are the same. Devils spread to the north and south planning their next moves, the Legion slowly starts its march towards way as it heads north, and wizards march their guard into new lands.

In the southern continent the nations rush to take the few lands that are eft leaving the northern half of the continent completely occupied by Ironfang armies, Khazn Durn Shield Dwarves, and Paladins of the Voice. The three nations are all getting closer and closer, pushing the boundaries.

The Perished Isles are dominated by the City of Wraiths as they expand to take even more of the main island covering it with their undead and joining the few towns there to the fold.

The Northern continent boils as the devils and the free city seem to be on a collison course, stopping just short of crossing armies as they grow their dominion. On the other side of the great mountains the Funga Combine slowly, but steadily, spreads their gift to the neighboring forests while the Theocracy of Shemesh expands to the deserts with faith and varied other means.

And is at a premium and it is running out.


Collapsing Economy and Devastated Populations

The city-state of Balam has been brutally attacked which has led into rebellion among their own! The agents of destruction targeted the lifeblood of the slave city, freeing and murdering hundreds if not thousands of slaves from the Balam lands and crippling their slave trade. This caused several of the preeminent slave traders and witches of Balam to band together and secede from the Balam motherland.

While Balam was suffering their own attacks the City of Wraiths was brutally assaulted by powerful magics out of nowhere. Targeting the few trade partners of the City to drive them away with mind magic while hitting their stockpiles of wealth, transmuting it to useless wood or dirt. The City of Wraiths is not happy with the economic crisis as they cannot afford many of the necessities any more.


The Dragons Roost

Zeilrae the Magnificent, descendant of the mighty Pyresoul who made nations tremble has graced Hanrui with his presence and his might. He comes to walk the same path of his ancestor, to conquer the vast ands of Hanrui and burn all who stand against him. However he is younger then the Pyresoul and lacks his powerful magics and vast devoted armies.

To rectify this Zeilrae deigned to join a powerful and worthy nation who had the standing to match his own. The Astral Collective wooed him with promises of power, wealth, and intriguing propositions. Granting him a mighty mountain temple for him to roost when he isn’t burning down their enemies in a storm of fire and fang.


Summit on the World Stage

Having seen the influence and draw that the Ironfang Republic has on their fellow nations, not to mention the steps they are taking to draw their neighbors together. This seems to be an ally that would benefit any nation who could befriend them, should they survive. The Ironfang Republic is flooded by offers of friendship and favors to help aid them in their struggle and ingratiate themselves for the future.

The Ironfang Peace Summit has drawn the eye of the world, will it rise again? Become a symbol of peace to both the mighty and the weak? Or fall into ruin and disrepair until forgotten?


What a Time to Be Alive!

Despite the temptation and drive of so many nations to snap and declare war there has been none. The common folk around the world cheer and go about their lives. Happy to just be there and not rounded up into an army or on the business side of a spear. Soldiers breathe sighs of relief as they don’t go into the meatgrinder of war cheerfully fulfilling duties they may have once deemed as ‘boring’.

From the new Wraiths of the Perished Isles, to the new adherents of Shemesh, to the new coastal towns of the Dwarves. New citizens are acclimating to their new nations taking pride in their leaders and watching the new armies that protect them with glee.

Those more in tune with magic, the occult, and the pulse of mortality seem to notice a little something extra seemingly going around. The faintest whispers of three ancient spirits a trio of siblings from time lost unleashed by new mortals looking for joy and happiness. Just the slightest whisper of joy and nudging wishes towards fulfillment, not like the reality warping power of their early days where they whisked nirvana and wonder into reality as easy as breathing.

Untouchable, untrackable and on the last legs of their life and power these whispers nudge mortals towards a better, if altered, state of mind.

Morale this turn takes one less to upgrade.


Magical Anomalies… Worked out?

A large use of magic caused some weird ongoings half a continent away in the small innocuous village of Helmain several small rifts the size of a fist opened up Not large enough for any large creatures to come through but the forest these small rifts led to were able to pollinate some of the plants in the village, causing them to show distinct magical properties while imbuing the area with powerful natural magics.

Many of the villagers started to gain strange eldritch powers while others bounded down the path of natural magic with ease advancing in months what took masters years. These new paragons of magic are still simple villagers though, unaware of the consequences of flaunting their new magics so openly and not even thinking of the idea that there are some that might want them for their own. Even as rumors spread across all the world of this wondrous event.

Territory 45 gains 2 Mag, whoever takes the territory gets the 2 Mag that comes with it.

[LimSindull]

Slowly it eeks forth. A tale of Adventure and Glory spill forth from the mist. Traders sell copies, Bards and minstrels sing the tales, and traveling minstrels invade nearby lands. Eventually every land will hear it.
From the deep mist, what did they see?

A child come forth alone, yet free.

Come hither young orc, the Captain must see.

He stood tall, he did not flee.

Look up child, you’re times not done,

Come with me and we’ll have some fun.

You’ve much to learn and far to grow.

Adventure and you’ll never know

And end to suffering and plight and craze

Your life will be lived in a gloomy haze

Of terror and fear and cold hard days.

Lesser men will whisper praise,

There will be no end to your deeds.

You’ll vanquish monsters and find unease.

The glory you’ll know will never fade.

Come and learn from the Mist’s silver haze.

Young Grock grew strong and learned what’s right.

To fight for gold and stories and sometimes light.

The world would bear a weight untold

To those who sit behind walls with gold.

The heat of battle will tempered wit.

And his rage for blood was never spent.

Pirates sailed and plundered loot.

Young Grock put them beneath his boot.

His axe wrote red their treaty to sign.

It was a glorious, brilliant, and lovely time.

The Trolls would pillage and burn and kill,

But our hero Grock would find the hill.

That hid the Trolls and their ill will.

He tracked and hunted and led his men.

He slaughtered trolls in their own den.

Grock had found his peace within,

And would be ripped away by words of men,

Come forth they cried, help us build a light.

But they coward in darkness and were afraid of right.

He pleaded and begged them to clasp in arm.

Instead they cried, let us do no harm.

Grock spoke of pain, his words unheard.

He could not sway weak men with word.

His hope wouldn’t die and he rode alone.

And as he came, he would ride towards home.

But Assassin blades soon would come.

Grock was brave and strong and true,

So listen closely or you will too,

Find the world is not ruled by chance,

But swords, and spells, and even romance.

So if fate leaves you to assassins blades

At least leave a tale to be made.

[Writtensanity]

Salvation

"Steady, steady!" Soundblade Johanna held out a hand to the Paladins behind her and dropped down to the ground. She folded her wings behind her and took a step towards the small army that had come to meet the forces of the Voice outside of the Hangruard city gates. She could see the doubt in their eyes, they didn’t want to fight a war they knew they couldn’t win.

“Those of you who hear the Voice!” She called out across the battlefield, “join us in liberating your brothers and sisters from their bonds! Listen to her and let her speak true to you!”

First there was silence in response to Johanna, as all of the cities defenders stood stalwart across from her, but she waited.

Then there was the clatter of a single armoured knight pushing through the ranks. One of the captains tried to get in his way but he cast them aside with almost inhuman strength. After bashing his way through the front lines he ended up in the no-mans land between the two armies. The sun gleaming off his armour as he cast his weapon and shield aside.

“I hear her,” he choked out, “you’re right, she’s here.”

Johanna flew forward with inhuman speed to take position beside the one deserter. As the dust from her landing cleared more of the army had dropped blades to the ground. “Is he the only one that hears her?” Johanna called out to the lost souls, “anyone else, let her know you believe.”

The Hugruard army started with shake with deserters who were trying to push through and leave the ranks. They wanted to join their brothers and sisters who had arrived as invaders. They clawed and pleaded with the men around them to stop holding them back. Slowly they started breaking free and running to Johanna, who took off the ground and hovered over the escaping souls.

“To those who do not hear her!” She called out, “do you relinquish your power to the one true notion of peace and harmony? Do you welcome her into your hearts even when she hasn’t been in your ears? Do you surrender your lives to the service of the church until the day you hear her too?” Johanna winced as she finished her questioning. She always wished this part could go different, but it needed to be done.

“You’re loony!”

“Madness!”

“It’s magic trickery!”

“I’m not betraying our king!”


Johanna sighed, “Salvation it is then,” she unsheathed her blade and the sound radiated across the battlefield. “Chorus!” She called.

“SHE SPEAKS THROUGH US!” Church Army and the deserting knights shouted back.

“They do not concede their place in the lands of suffering,” Johanna continued, “and they will not be part of the chorus.”

“THEY DO NOT LISTEN!” The chorus responded.
The men of the Hangruard army started reaching for their weapons that had been put away in the chaos of desertion.

“Any of you who hear the Voice in the next few minutes,” she said as a final point to the scrambling forces, “join us in deliverance.”

“SALVATION!” Johanna and the rest of the chorus cried together as they dove into the disarrayed forces that were still assembled against them.



——


Peace

Less than a week after Hangruard fell and the surrounding lands surrendered to the church, envoys were sent out to the lands south of the Fortress of first words. The angels arrived in the foothills to find the peoples of the villages there, waiting for them with offerings and gifts. Though not all of them heard the voice, they had quickly learned that it was easier to accept what was coming next than it was to try to resist the church.

The capital of the Southern lands was renamed to Angelhost by the locals before the church arrived, and the residents introduced themselves as casters of great power who could be taught in the Devine ways of the church.



——

The Shadow Flights Back


Grand Voice Sylas was already grabbing his weapon as the tower started to shake. The voice had told him that something was coming. Outside of his window, a shadow given form rocketed out into the sky above the fortress. Massive leathery wings unfurled to block out the sun and gave over a new domain. An Adult Shadow Dragon had pierced the guard of the adventurers that had gone into the realm of shadows and slipped out into the lands of the church.

“Freedom,” the beast hissed as he gazed over the fortress, “so much light to consume. A world to slather in dark and-“

A sharp ringing, like the sound of talons on pavement cut the dragon off as it turned to look to the top tower of the Fortress of First words. On the balcony, blade drawn but unarmored was Grand Voice Sylas. The dragon looked over the angel and started to laugh, smoke-like shadow escaping through its teeth.

“An angel?” The dragon asked, “do you think your light can burn me? Do you think I fear the sun?”

“Don’t let the Pilgrims from Shemesh hear you saying that,” Sylas responded as he took a step off the balcony and caught himself with his wings. He held his blade lightly and uncorked one of the ancient potions they had fetched from the plane of shadow. It was time to see how well these things worked. He downed the potion and it felt like electricity in his veins. “I’m personally not partial to fighting with light.”

“This won’t be a fight,” the dragon spat before starting a dive at Sylas, “I am Exzir the Watcher and the new ruler of these lands.” The shadow lashed out with its claws first. Sylas ducked below the blow only to find the maw of the dragon open and ready to cover him in shadowfire.

The angel uncorked another potion and heaved it up to the dragon’s mouth, the glass shattering against one of its teeth. Green acid poured from the bottle and Exzir roared in pain as the ancient alchemy ate away at his teeth. With the dragon staggered, Sylas rose for the killing blow.

The ancient sword ‘Her Shout’ clashed against the scales of the dragon. The sword was powerful but each piece of the dragon’s hide was a fortress wall, thick and study. Sylas retreated in the air before Exzir was able to recover from the acid in its mouth.

“Coward,” Exzir spat with a new lisp, “do you think your tricks with save you?”

“No,” Sylas answered and changed his grip on his blade, "I just believe that they will let me do this alone.”

“You foolish-“ Exzir stopped his speech as sonic waves built up around ‘Her Shout’. The dragon changed its words into a breath of shadowfire that engulfed Sylas.


Sylas could feel his light and flesh burn away as the fire lashed at him, pulling at his armor and skin. He closed his eyes.

B͏̵́͡E̶͞Ģ̶̀͝O͞͝N͝҉̡͡E̵͘͜͜͠

Sylas lashed out with his blade, a sonic wave echoing off it through the dark fire and into the dragon breathing in. The spew from Exzir’s mouth turned from flame to blood as the sound slashed his innards. The dragon coughed and faltered in the air.

The healing portion on Sylas’ belt restored the angels’ skin as he swallowed it down a cracked and burned throat. He steadied himself on healing wings.

Exzir reeled in the air, barely able to keep himself aloft as the angel healed in front of him. He wasn’t going to be defeated like this. He had been pushing to get out of the Shadow plane for decades. Months of watching the angels go in and out waiting for the right opportunity and now he was going to die in his first combat? He wasn’t about to let that happen. The shadow dragon mustered all the strength he could and channeled it into his wings, taking off towards the sea and lands away from this angel he’d run into.

“”Begone.” Sylas went to sheath his blade before he heard the whisper.
S̡̢̀͢a̡̕͡͡ĺ̷̛͟v͢҉a̕͝t͟͝͠i̶͡ò̸̡͜͞ǹ͘҉̀



Sylas slashed his blade at the air again, and a second burst of sound screamed out of it. Exzir was faster than Sylas could fly, but the words of the voice weren’t something that could be escaped. The dragon crashed into the ocean with blood spewing from its clipped wings.

“Salvation.” Sylas repeated.



____

Letters and Replies


The Ironing Republic.

Thank you for reaching out so soon after the conference, this letter was practically waiting on my desk as I walked back into the fortress of first words. Impressive delivery service.

I share your dismay at the results of the summit but I cannot say I was surprised. Hoping that every nation on the continent would agree to such peaceful terms was wishful thinking. Even asking some of the less honourable nations to agree to declare their acts of war was too much. That being said, I do believe there is a lot of change that could be made on Rivaness by discussing terms with nations of similar minds, like us as the Astral Collective. If nothing else we seem to have an aligned moral compass.

With the summit having come and gone with our non-aggression pacts in place. I would like to speak to the Astral Collective as well your esteemed representative, though they don’t need to stay for the theological lessons, I would appreciate having them there for the political discussions. 

Of course, you offered for a private conversation, so if you would prefer that I am of course also willing to welcome you into the fortress alone. Perhaps we could even visit Angelhost, I’m sure their magicians could teach some of yours a few new divine spells.

All the best, and thank you for taking the first step towards a safe Hanrui

Grand Voice Khal


OOC: Khal is offering to meet as a VIP for private messaging again if that’s what you’re asking for. He would like for the Astral Collective to come along too if possible as it would save a VIP trying to speak to them.


The Dwarven Hold

Good evening, I write on behalf of Grand Voice Dawn and Soundblade Johanna.

Thank you for keeping out of our way doing the Churches expansion into the territories around your lands. As your scouts must have seen, the Voice compels people to work on her side, even those that were standing against us just a moment before.

It seems there was a misunderstanding of our first letter. When we requested that we have access to lands, we were not speaking of the lands to the South of you, as you had no ruling claim on them. We were speaking of [42]. Seeing as there wasn’t a response in time we avoided moving into the area to avoid an accidental conflict. As the Church continues to expand we are going to need lands in order to keep pushing forward as a calming whisper in the world.

We understand that this is a large logistical request, and that the lands in [42] may be important to you. If that is the case we are disappointed but understanding, and would simply ask that [39] and [44] be left to the Church for our coming troops.

Now onto the topic of trade.

Trading with the Dwarves is something we are eager to do. Though we find it hard to find a resource that we do not share. Both of us have high military standing and a strong economy. Where your people have a larger reputation in Hanrui, we have magical abilities that are the one thing we have on offer.

We would be willing to consider a trade route for the coming seasons where we enchant weapons for you in return for raw resources. Please let us know if that is something you would find helpful.

[OOC: I am offering MAG for ECON, numbers to be discussed.]



The Astral Collective:

Hello friends in the Astral Collective, I write on behalf of Grand Voice Khal


We were pleased to meet you during our time at the Ironfang Summit, though less came from the summit than we were hoping. The church shares your opinion that the collective present made a full treaty impossible morally.

Though you are far from us, you are one of our neighbours on Rivaness, and one of the nations that the Voice speaks the highest of. She has seen into your past and shares your sorrow for the Hanrui that lies beyond.

It is imperative that we do not let that happen here.

I, Khal am set to meet with the IronFang Republic in the coming months, though I have asked for your peoples to attend the meeting, I can assure you that if they want privacy I will commit another one of the Grand Voices to speak with you about the future of the land we live on, and how we can stop the evils forming on Kyrsull and Nex.

Even if you have not heard the Voices yet, we know that you carry many of her words in your hearts.

If you cannot meet with us, we do wish to discuss trade and will speak over less private means like letters if that is how you prefer.


Voice Ghald, on behalf of Grand Voice Khal.



The Free City Of Khasal

To the Magnificent Vyas Asraya,

I was surprised to see someone other than you representing the Free City at the Summit. For some reason I had thought it would be you attending and lending your voice. Though I suppose there is now a pact of non-aggression between us to help foster a friendship.

We have seen your kind in the church before. Curious, wanting to learn and wanting to follow their eyes and ears rather than their hearts. Luckily our voice speaks, if our angels were considered masks and whispers, tell me how loud the Voice would need to call to show your people that she is something that can be studied?

To peace,

Grand Voice Khal.


The Legion of Balance

It’s unfortunate to hear that you are so against the forces of good. Your legion and goddess could do so much to help stamp out the evil that is spreading on Hanrui, but instead you choose to enforce it.

Saladrahal, Goddess of Balance. Rethink your ways before the tide of good overtakes a pious people.

Grand Voice Dawn.




The Dawn Arrives


Grand Voice Dawn knelt on the marble floor of the cathedral. Stained glass coloured the light that was dripping down from the rising sun into a prismatic array that splashed over her wings. She had been up for days pouring over the books from the Realm of Shadow. Fighting techniques that were easily converted and augmented with divine power, but after days Dawn had found herself at a standstill during the night, pouring over pages that could teach her nothing else but just short of a breakthrough in her work. There had to be something more that could help her, something more that she could do to prove her devotion.

Footsteps behind her echoed throughout the church as another of the chorus joined her in front of the grand statue of the voice’s wings. The member of the chorus didn’t have her wings yet, in fact, Dawn didn’t even recognize her from any of the ships that had come into port. She must have come in this morning.

“Rise,” the girl whispered as she knelt down beside Dawn. Dawn glanced over to the woman. “She’s telling you to rise,” the girl continued as she closed her eyes to hear the voice, “but you’re too distracted to hear her so she’s asking me to speak for her.”

“I-“ Dawn went to speak, something like that wasn’t supposed to happen, but every voice in the chorus heard the Voice just the same, so she wasn’t going to question the messages of another. “Tell her thank you,” Dawn said as she picked herself up off of the ground. Her wings felt heavy, like lead.

“You already have,” the girl responded, “but now she needs you to listen for yourself.”

Dawn stood beside the girl for a moment as her wings seemed to weigh her down, tight and stiff but somehow not uncomfortable, like they were supposed to be like that. Like she was supposed to walk.

The light of daybreak snuck through the open door to the cathedral, and more members of the church poured in to hear the voice. Dawn took a step toward the door and the first in the line of many passed her.

“Rise,” the man said.

“Rise,” the old woman behind him commanded.

“Rise,” the two children that tailed her pleaded.


Dawn pushed through incoming crowd toward the open door.

“Rise”

“Rise.”

“Rise”

Dawn shoved out into the morning sun, the sea air washing over her as she stopped at the edge of the cliff the cathedral was built on. She stared down at the waves crashing against the rocks below her, her wings were practically bound from how heavy they felt, but she knew she had to keep going.

She’d die.

Dawn went to take a step backward, but she felt a hand on her back.

Grand Voice Sylas spoke from behind her, “Rise, Dawn.”

“RISE!” The voices in the church behind her yelled.

“Rise,” Dawn reassured herself before taking a step backward, this time to begin a running start.

“RISE” the church chanted.

Dawn leapt off the cliff and went to spread her wings, but they were still lead. She fell, tumbling towards the sea, spinning in the air. She careened toward the ocean rocks, a flash of white beside the sea cliff.

Ŗ̸́͡I̢͢͢͡S҉̴͢͢E͜͏͡

Dawn didn’t spread her wings, but reached out with her hand. Her fingers caught the edge of some rock and she slowed her fall. Her arm cracked and groaned from the effort, but she held onto the outcrop and snapped to a stop, her fall broken.

The angel hung on the edge of the rockface, cold sweat dripping down her back as she started to pull herself up the side of the cliff, each handhold more obvious than the last.

By the time she was nearly at the top Dawn could unfurl her wings.

R̸̢͢͟i̴͏͡ş͞͏͜͠ȩ̡n̷͘͜.͢҉̨́͠

OOC: Dawn is now a tier 2 VIP 1MIL 1 ADV

[Hamste]

Morale 7

Chemosh returned to his realm. It wasn't as triumphant as it should have been. They had expanded and done a great good but were still punished for it. There was hope still though, the culprit was obvious. They might have destroyed people's livelihoods but at least they held to the same zero casualty rate mentality that had served the necromancers so well. It could be repaired, they just needed to take back what was destroyed from those who assaulted them.

He sighs as he goes to Salazar to get some notes written.


Did we happen to have the same targets in the last couple of months? We spent our time freeing the slaves of Balam but there was no way that was all us.

We were wondering if your time spent watching us made you reconsider your position or not? We would love some assistance with dealing with the aggressors who decided that people should starve and go homeless purely for their race. Even if you don't want to assist with that, we have to check to see if we can get any economical aid. We really need it and we can give some things as collateral.


Asking to trade one of my permanent stats for a permanent stat in economy temporarily. I just really need a 1 in economy and I'm willing to trade other stuff for it (though preferably not magic or morale seeing we kind of need those not to get more stats destroyed)






How goes things your lands? Are you willing to talk more about working together on a target now? We have a specific one in mind, and we could use some more people all working together to end it quickly and to get as much loot as possible.




We heard about the news and wanted to send our condolences. If you have the resources we can try to raise him as an undead, if you want.


The City of Wraiths are offering to raise him, but it would mostly be fluff with you spending the resources to make a new vip.

[St.Just]

The Free City of Khasal

Hubris is a Coward’s Word

The City of Wonders

Vetali, the priests said, was one of the first titans, who had never forgiven the gods for the creation of the world, for caging her and her vision in bars of time and space. And so she guided and tutored foolish mortals, leading them to heights of art and artifice so glorious they surpass the god’s design, and so shatter the prison of the world.

On the day of her Festival, it certainly felt like she might be getting close. The air tasted like ozone and the sun looked like an oil slick smeared across the sky. The unseasonably hot and dry spring wind carried chittering and sibilant whispers just barely too quiet to properly hear, and everyone quickly grew accustomed to ignoring motion in the corner of their eye.

In every public square and plaza, there was some sort of competition or demonstration, both tributes to the Muse of Glory and extremely public chances to win the adoration of the crowd and potential patrons. Everything from rhetoric to poetry to sculpture and paint to acrobatic and duelling, interspersed with grand displays of treasure and heralds boasting and telling tales of their employer’s accomplishments.

And in the courtyard of the Old Palace, and the Assembly Grounds, and the grand arenas in the city centre, the real competition was underway. The fabric of reality was threadbare and stretch taut as every theurge, metaphysician, arcanist and warlock in this new world’s greatest nexus of magical talent competed to put on the most sublime and dazzling display.

Presently, the judges of the contest-cultists of the Muse, wearing robes sewn together from pages of banned literature and blasphemous theology the world over-stared at a vast planar orrery, the vision in its centre flicking from hell to heaven to primal void. When it returned to the material world, it showed a vision of a small forest village in a distant land, littered with small tears in creation and filled with miracle-workers.

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

Glass and Wind

The ambush had been perfect, or close to it. Several dozen armed men and orcs surrounded the small elven party, blades drawn and arrows notched. And for all that, their leader didn’t seem the slightest bit worried as he stared down the bandit chief.

“I extended you invitation. I offered you a future. It is not too late! Accept my gifts, be welcomed as my brother in the City! All this might still be forgotten.”

The reply was almost snarled as the chief pressed a blade against his throat. “How stupid do you think we are, you knife-eared ****? That we’ll be bought with a few trinkets and cheap tricks?”

“Your peers have, to the benefit of all.” Still calm and unworried, there was a dangerous glint in the elf’s eyes now. “But if you refuse my generosity and insult my honour, I see no point in continuing this-" He whistled and made a practiced arcane gesture, and cloud of blades, each an intricate work of stained and shining glass, shot forth from his mount’s saddlebags, dozens upon dozens of scalpels, sabres, and everything in between flying unerringly towards the unfortunate orc. His screams were neither quiet nor short-lived as his skin was pierced in a score of places and dragged into the air, newly formed shining blades starting to recover his skin for a future work of art before they bothered killing him.

A smile playing across his lips, a dozen massive blades floating around him, Vyas Asraya too in the remaining bandits. “I ask again, who leads you? There is yet time to accept my offer.”

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

The Devil You Don’t

Quepta was barely a city-a glorified town, really. But it was the largest in the province, and it had accepted Khasal’s offer of incorporation and defence, and so now it was treated to a parade. A dozen different free companies marched proudly down its main streets, vibrant and garish uniforms often marred with ash and blood from ‘liberating’ those towns that had proven less susceptible to reason. Above them trotted Astral Knights, mounted on unicorns and nightmares and able to freely walk across air like packed rock, and the ifrit and rakshasa committed to the City’s cause, in a bewildering array of wondrous forms.

While seemingly every soul in town lined the streets and looked out the windows to get a good look at their new ‘fellow citizens’, any effort spent looking for Quepta’s real rulers was wasted. The City Fathers and the army’s Captains were safely ensconced in a storeroom quickly converted to host a massive and beautifully detailed map of the region. Clearly leading the discussion was Lia Misri, the Mother of Monsters-looking like she was dressed for and would much rather be at the Festival back home. (Her attendants for the moment were three lepers she had passed by on the road. They now looked perfectly, well, perfect, more suited to portraiture or a harem than anything else. At least unless you looked too closely at the teeth, or asked what happened to the bandits who’d attacked shortly after).

“The outlying villages and towns are fully secured now, either the devil’s didn’t want a fight this early or they’re coming after us from some other direction. Captain Ratri has reached the pass and the shades sent ahead haven’t even had to kill anything. If we press on now, we could-”

“And abandon us? What if they teleport past you? Or possess all of us? Or-”

”Captain? Father? If you keep babbling I’m gong to replace your voices with something I actually enjoy listening to, understand?”

One painfully awkward beat of silence later, she smiled and continued.
”Invading hell without preparation is just asking nicely to get tortured for the rest of time. And if they want to try and be subtle, I’ll enjoy the practice on something immaterial. If anyone’s really that suicidal, I promise you there are more dignified ways of going about it.”

“The Assembly has debated and voted, and we have a frontier. Quepta will be remade into a fortress-city worthy of the title, in free and equal federation with Khasal. Congratulations, if you’re in this room, you’ve been charged with carrying that out. Now, unless you’re volunteering to set up my equipment, please leave.”

It was weeks and months to properly restore order to the province, and it would be years to give all the new Citizens a proper understanding of their new political role. But between the presence of the famed mage taking the city as the site for her laboratory and the constant arrival of new material for fortifications and construction, Quepta’s population was soon swelling form old world immigrants and local landless farmers alike. Soon it might even deserve the title of city.
-------------------------------------------------------------

Correspondences [Morale 2, just read]



The message arrives much as the last one did, a beautiful origami swan flying under it’s own power to land and unfurl itself on the Grand Voice’s desk.

Hail Grand Voice Kal of the Speaker’s Church

I am ill-suited to games of ambiguity and hidden allegiances, and bow to the wisdom of the People when they charge one who speaks the serpent’s tongue fluently to attend a council of his peers. A treaty of peace is a lovely bit of paper, but I find myself curious as to how it will hold when there are no longer mountains and seas between the City and the other signatories.

Now, what is an angel but a messenger, a pleasing shape put around power and given a song to sing? And if a messenger throws its purpose upon the ground and flees rather than defend it, why should anyone else be troubled to? If your Voice wishes to be heard, she should send followers who can make her case, and not simply demand the dominion of sovereign souls.

Surely you have messengers who do not flee at confrontation?

To Glory,
The Magnificent Vyas Asraya, Maestro of Falling Stars, Lord of the Broken Coast, Great Man of the Republic.




The message is delivered by sea, carried by what seems like an ingenious melding of leopard seal and orc.

To the Captain of the Mists,

My condolences for the loss of your champion, and my compliments to the skill of your poets. Luck extracting whatever measure of satisfaction from the assassins you desire.

While living, he once told a friend that he considered adventuring against the Legions of Hell a noble and worthy endeavour. Is that, I wonder, a popular opinion amongst your company?

May your dreams burn more brightly than the sun,
Lia Misri, Weaver in Blood and Bone, Protector of Quepta




Salutations, Master Chemosh!

As I wrote in the summer, it’s always a pleasure to receive your correspondence, even if the results of the summit were something of a disappointment. But, as to your present proposal-yes! Well, properly speaking I will need to hear specifics and gather some interested parties among our citizenry, but the capacity and interest certainly exists for the moment.

On less happy subjects, as I understand it your coven is undergoing a bit of money trouble at the moment, yes? If you might require some assistance I believe that I could quite easily organize a consortium to offer you a loan on extremely reasonable terms. All in the name of future cooperation, of course.

Best wishes and regards,
The Esteemed Corin Lettara, Friend of the People

[Hamste]

Morale 7


Thank you for considering the alliance.

The main target is the Pillar of Wisdom. It is pretty clear they did the attack, given the amount of damage they did and the lack of theft. There is no one else with the magic and motive to do it unless the Truth Speakers decided they wanted to break the pact they signed, which seems unlikely. As for the terms, I suggest we do an equal amount of work breaking through the defences and then what we get is what we get. The ultimate goal of course is to cause a peaceful collapse, an economic collapse or a morale collapse seems like the best choice. The mages should just start leaving if either were to occur.

We are open to a loan, we are checking with the Astral Collective first, due to their higher pool of funds and higher chance to do it for economic aid. If we can't get the aid from them, we could give some things as collateral. To be returned once we repay the loan and what ever fees you would want to negotiate.


I need a hard stat of economy so there are a few options. A temporary exchange of one of my hard stats for that and then me repaying it back to you plus the additional fee. If you have the 5 temporary economy to make an economic stat (or anything large enough to make an economic stat), I would also gladly accept that and then repay the loan over time. I just really need one economy at the beginning of the turn.

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal

Morale 2



A very interesting proposal, and your logic certainly seems sound. Of the two possibilities, I believe that my friends will be rather more interested in the, ah, material option, if you understand my meaning?

Now, you mention ‘equal effort’-a noble sentiment I can certainly get behind, but a rather vague one when it comes to actually doing the accounting. Just how much are you willing to invest in this project?

Now, as to the loan-I’m sure you’re well-informed as to politics, and so are very aware that my dear City has found itself with a potentially hostile border. A detachment of Revenant
and ghouls that might help fortify it would be ideal collateral.

As for additional fees, I don’t imagine that much will be required. Perhaps a promise of future cooperation along the same lines, with a focus closer to my home than yours?

Best wishes and regards,
The Esteemed Corin Letara, Friend of the People

[Hamste]

The City of Wraiths Morale 7

Salazar rolls his eyes as Chemosh continued to talk on and on. Changing slight things and talking about possible changes.

Maybe it would be best if you wrote the note, sir? Or maybe just let me do the editing
While you rest?


Hah, good one Salazar. The grand duke of death writing his own notes. I guess I could have some no name do it but this way we get to spend time together. Isn't that fun, Salazar? Now where was I?
Chemosh says smiling a toothless smile. He looks off into the distance for a second before droning on.

Salazar just tries his best to keep the annoyance of his face as he goes back to writing. He could only hope another conference would be called or that Chemosh would get distracted working on the runes so he could go back to doing his job.


Ah right, forgot they can read your mail. To clarify, when I say equal effort I just mean for getting in. We obviously don't need the same amount of detachments or anything. It will take about 4 units of spies to get everyone into position if I'm right and they haven't reinforced their defences. So we split that work evenly then what ever remains robs as much as possible. We could also do ratios of the total stolen if you prefer that. So if you send 5 people and I send 10 I would get 2/3rds of what is stolen. Either way works for me. As you are helping you would get first dibs but I do doubt they will run out of things we want.

As for the solution to everyone reading your messages here is a few word switches you can do. When you are talking about attacking a place you can say what number of your standard detachments are going by saying that you will be visiting some place at some time where the time is the amount you are bringing. The place you go actually dictates what you plan for your main force to be. So military you are going to some place where the second letter is an i, spies the second letter is e, magic the second letter is a, if you plan to bribe them then use the second letter as o, if you want to use your reputation then y and finally if you are planning to use adventurers then use the second letter as u. If you plan to bring as many additional forces as possible then have the 5th letter as what ever vowel you want. If you ever want to attack a specific place, then try to include a word from their country's name or a derivative of it near to the sentence. Seeing I specifically asked for the Pillar of Wisdom, you won't have to squeeze pillar or wisdom in but once they aren't a major threat I am open to places to attack.

So for example of the code, I plan to go visit Benby soon, maybe 10 days from now? It may be wise to meet up then.


Now decode that just to make sure the code makes sense.

If you got 10 units of spies and some amount of reputation you have it correct. I also used wise which is close to wisdom so I want to attack the Pillar of Wisdom. I will usually ask to clarify anyways what target you want because again anyone who can read my mail read me explaining this to you and we don't want confusion.


Seeing anyone who can read my plans can also read the code I just laid out I will just say fully what I plan to bring. I plan to bring 10 units of spies, 3 more units of something that will synergize with what ever you bring but probably reputation and some adventurers to act as a distraction, Mr. Jenkins and my Vizier. Sadly, I myself will be busy working on the defences. We have enough magic that we should be able to hold out but if I'm not there, the magic might become unstabilized.

If you actually want to meet up just choose a place that doesn't have a vowel as the second letter. This method also doesn't actually say important leaders who are coming. There isn't much to be done unless I started describing a bunch of code words for each leader we have and then it would probably get obvious.

Also, of course we can supply some soldiers as collateral. They shouldn't be needed for the war against the Pillar and there is still enough territory that it is doubtful any one will try to invade soon.

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 6
Reputation 6

Round the Mortal Temples of a King

In an unassuming back room in one of the many halls of the Circle of Songs lay the most important non-goblin in the Republic. Kraelos was something of an anomaly, his shaggy white fur an indicator of both age and status among barghests but extremely unusual for anyone else. About ten feet long from tip to tail, he reclined on his side on a plain carved wooden bench as he luxuriated in the warmth of the nearby fireplace. As he meditated, his thoughts drafted back inevitably to the course that his nation had charted in recent months.

The summit had been, in all measures of the word, a success. Bruthazmus had lived up to his monicker, setting forth the motion first before the Council of Clans and winning over most of the elders. Then he had done what no other goblin in history had done before: he had reached out to states across the continent, and his summons were heeded. Kraelos - like nearly everyone else on Hanrui at this point - had read the official records of the Solstice Summit of Oprak, though his understanding of the events had also been complemented by individual testimonies of several of the chiefs. By all accounts, Bruthazmus had accorded himself and the Republic with honor, and the attendant nations had struck a non-aggression deal that favored all involved parties. The Republic had come out of the entire affair with a strong international position, and Bruthazmus’s office had been hosting meetings with ambassadors and petitioners for weeks.

And then Aza took the army and invaded the Lantern Hills.

To be fair to his pupil’s choice, she had observed the regulations set aside in the Articles of Iron. Fair warning had even given to the local governments, all skirmishes had been contained, and the entire operation was concluded with civilian casualties kept to an absolute minimum. All the same, the Immortal General’s expansionist enterprise threatened the very foundations of the Republic’s newfound image. Kraelos thought back to the conversation he’d had with Aza before her departure, of the words spoken and lines drawn. Brothers knew, he regretted his part in that squabble. She had made good points, besides: the Accords made them strong, but playing peacemaker was not the goblin way. She had been reckoning with seditious, warmongering officers and rebellious elements in her ranks since their arrival on Hanrui, and the more the Accords restricted the troops, the more restless they became. He had tried to dissuade her, to remind her of the failures of her time and how they might succeed together, but she had stormed off before they could conclude their discussion.

Her choices had brought him - had brought the Ironfang Republic - to a crossroads. On the one side lay Bruthazmus’ bright new future, one marked by treaties and deals struck around tables. On the other lay Aza’s blood-soaked past that held onto honor, tradition, and individual strength. As in most things, Kraelos forestalled his own judgment and thought back to the stories of Jang and Kherak. They too had disagreed once in the past about the path of the goblinoid races, and their conflict led to a period of deific turmoil. Among the rarer chronicles of that history, the Dhakaani had called it Maz’karan, the Epoch of Trouble. During that time, the goblin peoples had fought over the right course for their race, trying to resolve the question of history versus destiny. For years, he had considered the Republic the best of both worlds, but as long as their foremost champion was so conflicted, he was not so sure that such a dream could be achieved. Which way was best: holding onto what came before, or adapting to meet a new era?

Kraelos stared at the fire for hours, and the answer still eluded him.

Two copies of the same letter are sent out to different addresses in the same semi-rough scrawl, with only minor changes made between each document.

Dearest Speaker,

As my confederate stated in our earlier correspondence, I would welcome the chance to visit the Fortress of First Words in order to deal further about the fate of Rivaness and of Hanrui as a whole. I will confess that my own curiosity about your faith’s practices comes from several lifetimes of studying contrasting religions and their use as a basis for political action. In this regard, I expect that your Voice might be quite exemplary to study in person.

The presence of the Astral Collective hardly bothers us. In fact, our own foreign relations experts have already reached out to them in recent months in hope of securing a second sit-down, due to our shared ideals and methodology. Between us, we represent the lion’s share of the political power on this landmass upon which we find ourselves. Only the Dwarf Lords of Khazn Durn would remain uninvited... and we were hoping to speak to them as well in due course.

Would it be possible for the four representatives of our continent to meet privately and talk about the future of Hanrui? Based on the summit, I believe that we can all do a lot more good and benefit greatly from working together, as opposed to tearing each other apart. As of yet, the Republic has refrained from tipping anyone in their kingdom off about our communication, but if they are to be brought into the fold, I believe that speaking openly might be a wiser course of action.

I await your reply,

Brother Kraelos

Keeps Death His Court

"And he walks among the treetops...," Azaersi whispered to herself as stood at the ready in the blooding ring. A few wooden stakes and several hundred soldiers surrounded the pair on all sides, raucous cheering echoing out in waves over the beach. She took her time facing down her opponent, taking him in. Teraxian had ogre-blood, which gave him a great advantage in both strength and reach. He gave her an open sneer, discarding the mask of false servility he had been wearing on the campaign so far. It made for a refreshing change of pace. The lieutenant dragged a sword of slag-fired steel nearly six feet long through the sand, grinning nastily at her as he raised it in a mocking salute. She did not draw her own weapon.

"And is taller than the trees..." With a nod, the challenge began. No sooner than the signal was given, Teraxian was moving. The greatsword whistled down towards Azaersi’s head, but she didn’t care. She saw the blade’s trajectory in the arm of its wielder before the swing had ever begun. Sliding half a step to the left, the general watched in satisfaction as what would have been a killing stroke became a disastrous overextension instead. Teraxian was not the first to mistake strength with victory, but he certainly was good at it. Not yet pulling out any steel, Azaersi punched her treacherous underling with her gloved mail right in the side of the knee as he passed her, causing him to buckle and nearly fall.

"And his voice through all the garden is thunder set to bring..." Azaersi’s words were audible now as she stepped forward towards the stumbling Teraxian. Grimacing at his leg, he did his best to walk it off. All the same, it had slowed him down... and it gave her the opening she needed. Charging at the lieutenant and slipping under his guard, the hobgoblin drew the adamantine dagger from her belt and opened her enemy’s throat in one single, fluid motion. Eyes wide, the half-ogre brought up his sword for another two clumsy swings before collapsing to the sands and bleeding his last.

Goodbye, Teraxian. You were never as clever as you thought you were. Wiping the black blood from off of her dagger before returning it to its place on her belt, General Azaersi turned towards her troops. The faces that looked back at her were mostly her own kin, but she saw goblins, gnolls, a few ogres and even a minotaur present. Her recruitment officers had not seen fit to discriminate, a fact which Azaersi was proud of, but there were many here that she did not recognize. It wouldn’t matter, in the end. They would desist or they would die. Standing tall, the bald general strode proudly to the front of the mass of her soldiers.

"All of you who count yourselves a part of this Republic, you have signed away the right to raze and pillage at your whims. According to the articles of war, fair spoils shall be given to victors according to their measure. During the sack of Leamin Town, these articles were ignored in favor of unacceptable and rapacious violence. This is a professional army, and I will not have our name tarnished the way it was in the past!" She was shouting now, pacing up and down the same stretch of beach as her words fell over the crowd. "We will not give the world over a chance to judge us by the standards of monsters! The old ways are dead, just like Teraxian here. If any of you have a problem with that, you can challenge me and join him in the hereafter."

Azaersi waited patiently in the silence for a successor to the malcontents, for another Teraxian to step forward. Nobody did. After a few minutes, she dismissed the now-cowed soldiers and began the walk up to her hillside pavilion. Halfway up the slope, she was met with the stooped figure of Raeling, her aide-de-camp. "Report," she rasped.

"The last of the resistance fighters have been located and neutralized, general. The Lantern Hills are yours. Commanders Yrthin and Maugrim have been assigned to set up patrols along the main roads and begin preparations for the movement by sea to Beauvalais Island." The goblin then began to list the other troop movements so far, as well as status updates from Oprak, before Azaersi raised one bloody hand to silence him.

"What about my ships, Raeling? I need at least four seaworthy vessels within the fortnight if the expeditionary force is to be ready in time."

"Yes yes, of course general. We have acquired the craft and pilots from the Vallenor docks for the season, it is only a matter of sailing them up the coast to your encampment." Raeling raised an eyebrow in her direction. "If you do not mind my asking, general... where are you planning on going?"

Azaersi clicked her fangs and curled her lips into a sharp smile. "To where the fighting is thickest."

The scroll that arrives in palaces and keeps across Hanrui is deceptively simple, on good quality vellum and bound with a single blood-red band. Stamped in wax are the official seals of the Republic, as well as the insignia of a bird of prey with wings of daggers - the personal sigil of Azaersi.

Greetings, princes of Hanrui,

My name is General Azaersi, from the Ironfang Republic of Rivaness. Some of you may have heard of me. Our Republic’s leadership has declared an era of peace across these lands, desiring to put an end to all violence. While this dream is a noble one and I hope to one day see it realized, the truth remains that there are many uncivilized threats that have yet to be eradicated, and there is glory yet to be won.

The forces of the Republic are prepared to lend a hand to deal with today’s most imminent threats. We have readied an expeditionary regiment of 3000 of my finest troops - plus support and sapper crews with goblin munitions - to sail across the Sindar Ocean. I plan on leading this force myself. However, ours is a professional army and we do not work for free. We are prepared to fight for coin or favor to our new homeland of Oprak. One final condition: the Republic has signed treaties of strict non aggression with the Free City of Khasal, the Church of the Truth Speaker, and the Wraiths of the Perished Isles. As such, any contract undertaken cannot see our armies fielded against those polities.

If you agree to our terms and conditions, the fearsome army of the Ironfang goblins will fight for your safety and prosperity. By season’s end, we will decide who our most worthy client is.

- General Azaersi

So here it is: I am loaning off some of my military strength - 5 MIL for the time being - and an extra 1 point of ADV for the turn. If anyone is planning an attack against a neighbor or just wants some reinforcements, having extra protection in the form of elite hobgoblin corps led by my nation’s Military VIP will come in handy. If this is successful, I might be able to arrange a long term contract.

As of right now, my asking price is 4 ECO or REP, in any combination. That price may increase if I get competing offers. I will field offers of employment from everyone who asks, but I am taking REP and alignment into consideration when making deals.

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

Captain Goldfinder stood in front of his tent. No one was left who would do anything, no one was left who would oppose his warriors. No one one who would challenge his power, or so Captain Goldfinder believed. He was a loner, a thinker. A man with ideas. He had set his task to create a movement. A movement on the idea to create a perfect society. A movement that would cost him more than he bargained for.

His bards worked far into the night to create a story. A tale of adventure and turmoil. Few could ignore the tales and songs sung to them. The tale was put out to create change. To grab the ear of the nations that stood against darkness.

“It isn’t all bad.”

“How can you dare to whisper those words to me. I have given everything I can. Now, there will be no mercy. We will reach out with one purpose."

I cannot as a father watch you break the spirit of my son. If he is brought back, in what manner of monster will he be?

Your words fall on tormented ears. It is my rage that the demons will find you all sleeping in the night. Yet my son was not incorrect in his motive. The legions of hell make for good adversaries. We will push towards your lands with all of our strength. We hope that we can find a peace between us. The demons will stretch out upon this land with no end. We will drive to take lands on the coast (23).

We hear your offer. My son wished that our countries could work in this way. I am sorry, I was wrong to tell him to turn away. For when he fell, I was the only one who cared. When he died , he died in vain. I must warn you, and though it’s something you may not understand. I take away the weight his shoulders had to bear. We ask your support in taking the lands that demons would settle. We are willing to pay (4 eco) for your soldiers. This fight is not your yours, but we hope that you will find it in your heart, having heard the Tale of Grock (5 rep) to help us in our endeavour.

We see the act of taking the lands beside us as and act of war. You have failed to inform of this movement. As there is a common enemy between us, we assume that you meant no offense. Pull all of your forces from this land (22) or I will be forced to act as if your armies march towards us.

[Janwin]

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn

King Thurgrin marched back up the mountain along newly reinforced roads, leading his contingent of honor guard, lawmakers and engineers back into the Dwarf Hold. As he passed by the new battlements and surveyed the defensive works, he nodded with pleasure as the Hold took form into a stronghold befitting a dwarf king. The glint of shields and armored dwarves and the unmistakable form of artillery emplacements made for a pleasing sight.

"Good. Been hard at work while I was away."

As he entered the hold through the massive, reinforced gates, he made his way to his throne room.

"Send for me son and the Forgemaster."

He sits down on his throne and surveys the room. They had added some more intricate carvings to the walls while he was away, and the work was making the room start to come together. Eventually it would be suitable for hosting foreign dignitaries, but it would have to do for now. His neighbors were large and with vast militaries of their own, so treaties would have to be made.

As Thane Durstrim and Forgemaster Kargrin enter the throne room, they bow to their king.

"Good! The work proceeds well, I see. Good work, lads."

"Aye, father. We've raised a new company o' shield dwarves an' trained two batteries o' rock throwers an' spear chuckers. They've been assigned t' th' walls as a permanent guard."

"Good. A good start. Make sure a company is sent north to our new lands. We've promised our new citizens security for their fealty, and, by my beard, I'm not breakin' me oath."

"As ye wish, father."

The King then turns his attention to his Forgemaster. "Ye've done well, Forgemaster. The road up the mountain be smooth an' easy to travel. That'll make tradin' much easier. Yer task now be to spread th' roads t' our other provinces. Link our lands togeth'r, an' all our people will prosper."

"Aye, me king. That'll be done."

"And have yer smiths forge somethin' nice. A nice shield, sized fer a hobgoblin."

The Forgemaster looks a bit perplexed. "Ye wish me t' spend time forgin' fer a hobgoblin, me king?"

A stern look is returned to the Forgemaster. "Aye. An' I know tha' may be unpleasant, but we must put aside old grudges if we are to survive in these new lands. Fortifications, nay matter 'ow big and 'ow strong only go so far if ye 'ave no friends."

The Forgemaster nods. "As y' wish, me king."



To the Grand Voice Dawn Johanna,

On the topic of territories, ceding our port and harbor [42] is out of the question. You would ask us to give up our trade link to the rest of the world.

I can understand one's need for lands for their people to inhabit, and such is why I offered to not contest the lands east of our Hold [43] even though they are of such close proximity. I seek peace on this continent, and it was my hope that this gesture of good faith and trust in my neighbor would show that clearly.

I have no objection to you continuing to expand southward. I had figured you would wish for the fertile grassland on the east side of the lake [44] to feed your people, and thus have made no plans for expansion into that territory to leave it available to you. As to the territory that guards the harbor [39], I have already guaranteed protection and safety to those living there per an agreement with the Ironfang Republic.

In regards to the proposal to trade raw resources for magical services, such may be agreeable. Allow me some time to confer with my Forgemaster to determine what is available at this time for trade.

By my hand,
King Thurgin Wildhammer

To Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued,

Greetings to our western neighbors. Firstly, congratulations on your recent expansion toward the coast. In the coming seasons we are planning on building roads throughout our territory and we would like to inquire if you would be interested in linking with these roads in order to forge the bonds of trade and cooperation between our people. We have included a small gift for your General with the ambassador bearing this message as an example of what our smiths can forge and as a gesture of goodwill to your people.

The second topic that we would like to discuss is a mutual defense treaty. Our two nations have the strongest militaries and highest reputations among the free people of this new world, and a mutual defense treaty would guarantee both or nation's safety and security for the generations to come. None would be wise to attack either of our nations as the other nation would be bound by honor to come to their defense, and the armies we could muster in that unified purpose would be unbreakable.

This would not be a treaty that would require the other nation to enter war in the case of aggression by either party, but would require both parties to defend the other in the case that an invader attacked them. I know that the Ironfang Republic is seeking peace in this new world, and so is the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn. Let us work together toward this goal and guarantee each others' safety in doing so.

On the third topic, I would warn you of some concern I have in regards to the Church. They have stated interest in their most recent missive for the territory of my trade port [42] and in expanding toward your lands [39]. The manner in which they speak is of concern as it seems quite intent on expansion, including into sovereign territory. I fear they may seek to destabilize this continent.

By my hand,
King Thurgin Wildhammer

[[Included with the message is a fine shield made of Kingsteel (mithril) bearing the sigil of the Ironfang Republic in silver and gold. ((Giving 1 ECO this turn.))]]

Greetings to all civilized nations of this new world,

The Dwarven Hold of Khazn Durn is open and willing to trade with any interested parties. Whether you have need of fine metalworks to improve your throne room, the finest weapons and armors to defend your homeland or engineers and advisers to help plan and build fortifications, the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn is willing to negotiate a suitable price.

In Honored Service to the King,
Forgemaster Kargrin Firehammer

[Writtensanity]

The Church is more interested in a meeting without the Dwarven hold, they were unwilling to attend the peace summit, and we are worried that such lack of care about the future for greater Hanrui might point toward an economic obsession.

We are discussing with the dwarves separately as well, but for the time being a meeting of three may be easier to organize politically.






This time, the letter is delivered by a small retinue of angels who stop with the later and wait for it to be read.


We are willing to field your questions, may these humble servants of the voice be found satisfactory.






We appreciate you considering out request for your lands. We understand that it would be a great amount of charity even disregarding the trade routes that you use the sea for.

Additionally on the topic of [39] We had not gotten news of your promises of protection in the North, we did not wish to offend, if the people of that land are under a strong banner we are pleased with the arrangement. Though we do ask that any who hear the voice are allowed free passage into our territory, they will be welcomed with open arms.

Please keep us advised on manners of trade.

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 6
Reputation 6

Dearest Speakers,

While it was not obvious at the time of the summit itself, it has since been made clear to us here in Oprak that their absence was due to inaccessibility and inclement weather on the part of the messengers. By the time a reply could be given, it was too late. However, since the time of our initial correspondence, the Holds of Khazn Durn have been cordial, lawful, and forthcoming with their own foreign interests.

The Republic asks kindly that you reconsider your current position on sitting down with the dwarves. We can vouch for their integrity, which they have proved in the last season through fair-handed territorial divisions. Our finest minds in the Council of Clans have come up with a course of action that we believe might benefit all four of the nations that currently occupy Rivaness. It would only be fair that King Thurgin be permitted to send a representative to such a meeting as well. However, since we are meeting on your grounds, the final say is up to you.

I await your reply,

Brother Kraelos

Basically I’m taking the offered out of game excuse that Janwin offered me as to why their faction didn’t attend the summit - I don’t think their nation should be excluded just because the player wasn’t active for a week.
The reply is prompt, delivered by carrier hawk to the slopes of the dwarves’ mountain stronghold within a week of the parcel being delivered to Oprak. The missive is gilded and has been penned in an immaculate glowing script.

To the good King Thurgin Wildhammer,

Please allow me to be the first to thank you for the gift you sent along with your previous message. It has been well-received by its intended recipient. We hope to return the favor shortly, in a manner that we hope is commensurate to your offering. Rest assured that your proposal has not fallen on deaf ears. The collective spirit that the Republic has tried to foster at the summit has not waned with the passing of months; we would be delighted to discuss a peaceful transition of authority over these lands so that the Kingdom of Khazn Durn and the goblins of Oprak might live harmoniously. Your idea of shared roads would be a great movement in that direction, and a mutual non-aggression pact is something that we can action right away.

Of the Church of the Truth Speaker, we were actually hoping to sit down and discuss territorial concerns with you and them together, as our three nations are so close in proximity. The very last thing that the Republic desires would be an open conflict with either the Church, the Astral Collective, or yourselves. Such squabbles would lead to unnecessary loss of life and coin for all parties involved. However, the Republic has no current desires on the deep water ports of [39], having already brought the Lantern Hills [38] under our protection last season. We believe that we can sway the Church from demanding your lands of [42] as well, given enough time. The Republic is sending an emissary to discuss terms with both the Church and the Collective shortly - we hope to include you in that conversation. After all, a monarch of your stature should never be dictated terms by an outsider.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary-General of the Republic
The reply, when it comes, is little more than a short scrap of paper rolled up in the talons of a hawk.

The Republic has heard of the Tragedy of Grock, a story which has moved many in our homeland. His candour and expressiveness was well documented at Oprak. Given the ease to which you have met our requirements, we will tentatively accept your offer, provided another group does not step forward with an even better one before season's end.

- General Azaersi

[Writtensanity]

If you would all agree, I would like to speak with representatives privately from each of your nations in a conference about the future of our land Rivaness, as well as the future of the lands around it and how the tides have been turning.

Thank you for your consideration. Grand Voice Khal will be available to meet with you all during the Winter Moon.



I am committing Grand Voice Khal to a Rivaness Summit.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to Legion of Balance


Public message to Legion of Balance

Djehu contemplates what was said.

"Illuminating. So an abundance of good, you say, will lead to, in time, a large disaster as bastions of good fall to corruption or ire. Which will be a disaster of far greater scale than local conflicts when good and evil are in balance. Did I cast the light correctly from the Legion's point of view?"

"What sphere of influence and interaction does the Legion acknowledge here in Hanrui, if they differ from landmasses?"

Withouth receiving an answer, for reasons unstated, left in darkness, Djehu eventually returned to the Theocracy of Shemesh.

Djehu made his way to the Legion of Balance again. A shorter journey this time, as the border has moved adjacent to the territory of the Theocracy of Shemesh.

"The Legion of Balance has moved closer to the Theocracy of Shemesh. Earlier, you issued a warning to the forces you see as Good. It is obvious you move to the Light of Shemesh, not in welcome, but to dim. What may disuade you from that course?"

Public message to the Great Church of Truth


Public message to the Great Church of Truth

Nebtise looked shocked at the ahem explaining before her. "You're not in danger?" She cast her head high to the sky, opened her eyes widely, then she looked at the angel again, with a wary look. "Are you sure?"

Looking unconvinced, Nebtise looked at the angel and the fortress. "Alright. The Light of Shemesh guides me. May I be illuminated and cast light on the path before me." She then looked at the angel and offered a friendly smile. "Please, be my torch in this place, show me around and tell me about it and yourself. With help not needed, perhaps we may instead get to know another?"

After having left when her question met only silence, Nebtise returns.

"Greetings, I am Nebtise of the Theocracy of Shemesh. The Legion of Balance threatens our borders in Darkness. I hope to find a voice of reason here. Do you have advice on how to deal with them?"

Public message to Ironfang Republic

Another male messenger from the Theocracy of Shemesh approached the Ironfang Republic.

"Greetings, I am Ninezzi of the Theocracy of Shemesh. Your message has been received in the Light. Do you have a way to cross the oceans with the armies you offer?"

Public message to the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn

A female messenger approaches the dwarves.

"Greetings, I am Khiti of the Theocracy of Shemesh. Your message has been received in the Light. Do you have a way to cross the oceans with the services you offer?"

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal
Morale 2, yes you can read them.



This all seems like an extremely clever system! That said, I’m afraid the proposed timeframe is a bit outside my ability to coordinate and organize-continental concerns do still need to be seen to in the coming season. On reviewing the books, I believe I myself can commit to arriving in Nex in roughly 8 days for more detailed discussions? If all goes well, I’ll also arrive with a chest full of rubies and leave with a ship full of ghouls.

If all that seems reasonable and fair?

Best wishes and regards,
The Esteemed Corin Lettara, Friend of the People





The letter is delivered across sea or mountain by a small feathered serpent. As some small proof against alteration, the message is not carried on it but within it, only revealed when it sheds its skin upon arrival, the discarded scales coming off in a single sheet already filled with precise and elegant calligraphy.

Greetings to Azaersi the Immortal

You have already received one offer to fight in the same war, and I would not be distraught if you accepted it. But still, I look through a mountain pass and see a vision of Hell, teeming with all its slavers and chains. An army to hold the pass, and to train the companies and militias I have gathered here to a standard worthy of being called soldiers, would be easily worth all the treaties and accolades the City can provide, and all its gems and treasures besides. [3 REP, 2 ECO]

May your flesh never be a prison,
Lia Misri, Weaver in Blood and Bone, Protector of Quepta




To the Grieving Goldfinder,

The warning is appreciated, and you will find no opposition form the City on the matter. I can only hope for peace between us as well, for I certainly have no quarrel with those who risk life and limb seeking riches and glory.

Lia Misri, Blessed of the Architect, Weaver in Blood and Bone

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Three months earlier

Kalira had lived a good life.

Well, if you wanted to be technical, “good” might not be the best way to put it either. She had served her nation well, no? She had sacrificed everything - including herself, dozens of times. In almost all her lives, she had throw herself headfirst into peril in the defense of the Astral Collective. The whispered affirmation from her collective consciousness was little consolation. It wasn’t them she needed to convince.

If you wanted to be even more technical, she’d lived a good fifty or so lives; her various other selves swam in the back of her mind, patiently waiting to add their input. Maybe she could argue that innocents would die? No, that was idiotic; the other hers agreed. They’d executed kalashtar before. Rarely, but it had happened. They would do it again.

Then again, staring up at the Council of Speakers, their faces twisted in anger and disbelief, it was almost worth it just to see them this shaken up. Maybe she should recruit dragons more often.

“-temerity of taking such an action unprompted, and without the blessing of the Council. Kalira is a useful operative, evidently, but she has vastly overstepped her station. A dragon would be one thing, but the very descendant of the Pyresoul, the being who lead waste to our home? MIllions died when we escaped his tyranny! She has made promises that we will not - shall not keep!”

Ahh, that would be speaker Rolind. What a self-righteous ****. He looked like he was about to get an aneurysm. Gods, that would be hilarious. She felt a small pang of guilt at that - or was it one of her other selves? Thank goodness she was powerful enough to conceal her thoughts from any telepaths in the room.

“-light of her behaviour, there can only be one option. Banishment. We cannot allow someone with her knowledge of our operations to roam free on this Hanrui. Kalira must leave this reality and find another. Does anyone have any objections?”

Kalira felt a chill run down her spine. No! They couldn’t. Everything she’d done, it had been for her people. Couldn’t they see that? She had to explain it to them; this was the only way. She struggled against her bonds; they had gagged her after she had made her initial plea. Her eyes desperately scanned the room. Each of the seventeen Speakers had projected their consciousness into this hall; it was inefficient for them to physically travel to a central location for each meeting. Surely someone on the Council would come to her defense? Poliras, maybe? Qualithei? But as she waited, no one said anything in her defense. She bowed her head, holding back tears. Gods, was this really how it ended?

Speaker Rolind’s projection leaned back, his expression dripping with smug satisfaction. “Very well then. Since no one has any-”

“Wait. Perhaps there is an alternative.”

Kalira’s head snapped up. Yes! Speaker Yonren. He was well-respected, as the ‘face’ of the Collective, and was renowned for his wisdom. He could save her.

“Perhaps she could be censured instead. We could remove her psionic abilities, so that she could retain her freedom.”

No! That was worse. Oh, he meant to be kind, surely, but that was a fate worse than death. She had spent her whole life honing her abilities. She could sneak into any room unseen, extract any stray through without a trace. Gods above, she could even erase someone’s mind. She’d done it before, in desperation. Without her powers, what was she?

A smile spread over Rolind’s face. “Yes, I do admit I like that idea, Twelfth Speaker. All in favour?”

Kalira watched helplessly as thirteen of the seventeen members of the Council raised their hands. That was it, then. The end of her story.

“Very well. By majority vote, the Council of Speakers sentences Kalira to indefinite psionic censure; the sentence will be carried out-”

“BEFORE YOU ISSUE YOUR SENTENCE, WE WOULD HAVE YOU CONSIDER OUR WORDS, SPEAKERS.”

The words were like a sledgehammer, smashing into Kalira’s skull. All her selves cried out in unanimous pain, the sound muffled by the gag. By the looks of it, all the Speakers were likewise affected; several of them had to reconstruct their astral projections, their concentration broken.

Kalira raised her eyes to the obelisk at the back of the room, caved with arcane runes. It was a vessel for the most powerful psionic entity on the plane, a gestalt of all the great Speakers to have come before. It was the Zenith. She had never been so grateful to hears its words in her mind.

“KALIRA’S ACTIONS WERE UNDOUBTEDLY RECKLESS. SHE HAS ENDANGERED OUR PEOPLE BY INVITING A DRAGON HERE, AND POSSIBLY TARNISHED OUR REPUTATION IN DOING SO. WE AGREE THAT THERE SHOULD BE CONSEQUENCES FOR HER BEHAVIOUR.”

“HOWEVER, ALL OUR CAREFUL CONSIDERATION DID NOT SAVE THE ASTRAL COLLECTIVE FROM THE PYRESOUL. THIS COUNCIL’S PLANNING WAS NOT SUFFICIENT TO PREVENT HIM FROM TURNING OUR JUNGLES TO ASH. PERHAPS RECKLESS BEHAVIOUR IS WHAT IS REQUIRED TO SAVE HANRUI.”

“GOBLINS TO THE NORTH. NECROMANCERS TO THE WEST. PERHAPS WE SHOULD NOT BE SO QUICK TO JUDGE THIS ZEILREI. HE MAY WELL NOT POSSESS THE BLOODLUST OF HIS ANCESTOR. PERHAPS HIS TALENTS CAN BE PUT TO USE. AND IF NOT… WE WILL HANDLE THE DRAGON OURSELVES.”

As the Zenith finished, silence fell across the hall. Unsurprisingly, it was Yonren who first spoke. He was used to speaker on behalf of the Collective. “I find myself in agreement with the Zenith. Thank you for lending us your wisdom.”

“Wait! And what of Kalira? You mentioned there should be consequences.” It was that snake, Rolind. Of course he couldn’t let the challenge to the authority of the Council go unpunished.

“YES. I PROPOSE THAT SHE BE PUT IN CHARGE OF ALL OUR COVERT OPERATIONS ON HANRUI. SHE WILL REPORT DIRECTLY TO THE COUNCIL, WHERE YOU CAN CAREFULLY SCRUTINIZE HER ACTIONS. SHE WILL TAKE HER ORDERS FROM YOU.”

This time, the silence was not contemplative but shocked. Kalira couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What - no way - can they - WHAT - how; a dozen voices clamored excitedly through her mind.

“It is an unusual proposition, but we will vote on the Zenith’s suggestion” said Rolind through gritted teeth. “All in favour?”

Kalira counted six hands. Eight. Nine. Come on. Rolind was against her, but all she needed was one more vote. The council required a minimum of ten votes to make a decision. And there it was! Ten. Ten of the speakers had their hands raised. She couldn’t believe it. A promotion? She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Gods, what a sick joke.

“Very well then. It is decided. Kalira will be put in charge of our espionage. If we have no other business to discuss, I motion that we dismiss this session of the Council.” Nods all around. The glowing runes on the obelisk faded as the Zenith left; it never rested, constantly moving from household to household to speak to the people of the Collective.

“Kalira, you are free to go. We expect you to report to the Council first thing tomorrow morning. And please… refrain from offering any other beings sanctuary in the Astral Collective for the interim."

Her bindings disintegrated; they had been constructed of psionic energy. She grinned. Things were looking up.

“Perfect. I know exactly where to start.”

Yonren sighed, watching the younger kalashtar leave the hall. He hoped they were making the right decision. I suppose I had better summon Kriik-Krilr and Zina. We’ll need to build somewhere for the dragon to stay.

MORALE 6
REPUTATION 5

The message is delivered by courier, who informs each recipient that it was dictated and recorded verbatim.

GREETINGS, ESTEEMED NEIGHBORS.

ON BEHALF OF THE ASTRAL COLLECTIVE, WE ACCEPT YOUR PROPOSITION TO MEET. THE COUNCIL WILL SEND SPEAKER YONREN TO MEET WITH YOU.

WE WISH TO NOTIFY YOU THAT THE ASTRAL COLLECTIVE WILL BE EXPANDING INTO [TERRITORY 45] THIS SEASON. WE HAVE HEARD RUMORS OF ANCIENT MAGICS THERE, ONES THAT WE HAVE VERIFIED TO BE TRUE. WE WILL BE SAFEGUARDING THESE FOR THE BETTERMENT OF HANRUI AS A WHOLE. THIS MATTER IS NOT UP FOR DEBATE. WE HOPE THAT THIS DOES NOT INCONVENIENCE ANY OF YOUR NATIONS; WE HAVE NO FURTHER DESIGNS ON ANY OF THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES.

-THE ZENITH OF THE ASTRAL COLLECTIVE


Chemosh finds the note in the pocket of his second-finest bathrobe.

Greetings, Lord Chemosh.

I do not have the same reservations about necromancers that my brethren seem to hold. I believe that our actions define us, and so far you have not seemingly done anything evil. In fact, if your claim to have struck Balam is true, then we are grateful for your actions and are willing to re-consider participation in the non-aggression pact.

We did not strike Balam last season, though we had laid the groundwork for a future strike; perhaps that facilitated things.

Regarding your economic problems, we would be willing to provide you [1 TEMPORARY ECON] for your use next season, in return for the promise of twice that at a future date.

Please let us know if this is something you would consider.

Kalira, Daughter of Silence
Spymistress of the Astral Collective


A tired-looking kalashtar materializes in a nearby inn, where they ask for a pen and paper. They write the message and hand deliver it, offering to take a message in return.

Greetings. I hope this letter finds you well.

I am deeply saddened to hear of Grock’s passing. I was quite fond of the young man when I met him at the Ironfang Summit. Given your grief, the Astral Collective is willing to overlook the rather negative depiction of myself and the other representatives.

I had told Grock that we were potentially willing to provide aid to your nation, provided that you prove yourselves to be more reputable. In the light of his untimely demise, the Astral Collective would like to reiterate our offer of help.

Our offer of aid is twofold. In exchange for whatever espionage and magics you possess, we will investigate Grock’s demise for you and provide you with the names of the ones responsible. We are also willing to strike at the Brotherhood of Evil this turn. They are a threat to Hanrui as a whole, and it would be our privilege to eradicate them.

Please let me know if this acceptable.

Yonren, Twelfth Speaker

OoC: We are willing to use [10 ESP] and [2 MAG] investigating Grock’s demise and/or striking at the Brotherhood of Evil, in exchange for [2 ESP] and [2 MAG] from you for the next three turns.

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 6
Reputation 6

To our fine neighbors in the south,

The Republic's leadership is incredibly pleased to hear that we can all sit down together to discuss our current situation and the years to come together. Brother Kraelos has already left Oprak with a contingent of his priests to the Brothers in Arms, and should be traveling through dwarven lands on the way to the Fortress of First Words in time for our summit. All of us here in Oprak hope that our delegates are received with as warm a welcome as we gave during our own summit. Before he left, Kraelos expressed interest in keeping our borders open for the time being. We hope that such a notion would make travel to the meeting all the more simple.

The Republic has no quarrel with the magics in [45] going to the Astral Collective. In fact, many among the Council of Clans believe this to be the optimal outcome - the Collective is comprised of reasonable people who have psionic talents, leading us to believe that arcane power is best left in such learned hands. Brother Kraelos had planned on discussing several matters of a similar nature, but since I am here to reply to your correspondence, it behooves me to inform you as promptly as I can.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary-General to the Republic

Ready to start this VIP sit-down whenever you all are!
To the Weaver of Blood,

Your offer is as intriguing as your title is evocative. The terms you offer to the Republic are indeed more favorable than those we have already gotten from our previous client, although I do not currently see enough of an incentive to break our bond with a nation of adventurers which is held in high esteem across Hanrui. Khasal, on the other hand, is known to truck with the very kinds of dark forces you would like to see held at bay. If your city-state were to sweeten the pot further, me and mine might well find our way to your side instead.

- General Azaersi

A 25% higher bid isn't quite enough to overlook the discrepancy in reputation and optics from where my faction sits. If you were to bring the margin of difference up to 50% by adding one more point of ECO or REP - or coming up with some other minor side benefit - then my faction will likely back you with the 5 MIL and 1 ADV.
Ninezzi finds when he lands in Rivaness that the countryside of the Lantern Hills is swarming with goblins, and he is soon brought before a commander who appears to be a minotaur in plate armor of all things. Letting out a snort, the officer - called Commander Kosseruk by her soldiers - leans down to the pilgrim.

"While we are not in the business of discussing ongoing operations, know that General Azaersi is currently taking care of the matter. There is no route that will elude the Ironfang for very long."

[Janwin]

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn

Any who wish to take up residence within your territory are certainly welcome to do so. We are not a nation of slaves, but a nation of civilization and law. Our citizens are free to do as they feel right.

We would be honored to attend a conference to discuss the future of Rivaness and to build friendship with the civilizations flourishing there.

King Thurgin Wildhammer

To Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued,

We look forward to a future of prosperity for both of our peoples, and agree entirely that squabbles over territory would not benefit anyone upon our continent and would only lead to an unnecessary loss of life and trouble for the common people. I have recommended to the Church that they expand southward, and that the lands to the east of the great lake would be available for their people if they need it.
Hopefully they will find such amenable.

Should you be intending to attend the summit, I would be honored to travel east with you. It would give us time to learn more about our neighbors.

King Thurgin Wildhammer

To the other nations of Rivaness,

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn has no objection with the Astral Collective launching an expedition north to seek out the rumored magics. We dwarves have little use or interest in such arcane matters, and are happy to leave them to someone who might better understand them.

I look forward to meeting all of you at the future summit.

King Thurgin Wildhammer

[GameOfChampions]

Brotherhood of Sin
Mor 4



We see the act of taking the lands beside us as and act of war. You have failed to inform of this movement. As there is a common enemy between us, we assume that you meant no offense. Pull all of your forces from this land (22) or I will be forced to act as if your armies march towards us.

See the act however you wish. March your weak armies towards us, hardy adventurers do not an army make while we bring the wrath of hells and death if you dare.


Legion of Balance
Mor 5


Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to Legion of Balance

Withouth receiving an answer, for reasons unstated, left in darkness, Djehu eventually returned to the Theocracy of Shemesh.

Djehu made his way to the Legion of Balance again. A shorter journey this time, as the border has moved adjacent to the territory of the Theocracy of Shemesh.

"The Legion of Balance has moved closer to the Theocracy of Shemesh. Earlier, you issued a warning to the forces you see as Good. It is obvious you move to the Light of Shemesh, not in welcome, but to dim. What may disuade you from that course?"

Public Message

"Our warning has expired and now is the time for War. We shall not be dissuaded but may it be a comfort that you shall not suffer alone. May the Balance find you in the afterlife.

Public Message To
"Your Church forces the forces of Good and your Voice upon the neutral. This cannot stand and we will be seeing you and your unbalanced church soon."

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal



The Intrepid Atena Nalar will take 4 points of ADV into the Old Palace

[Writtensanity]

The Church of the Truth Seeker: Mor 5, Rep 2




Grand Voice Dawn (1 MIL, 1 ADV) is going to bring the Church's 2 ADV as well as

Grand Voice Jeleva (MAG 1)

Grand Voice Hybert (MAG 1)

Grand Voice Myra (MIL 1) into the dungeon.

4 from base VIP, 3 from ADV and 2 from the extra VIP points should be 9 more floors into the Realm of Shadow, bringing me to floor 17. Bring on those complications!






If you want out advice when it comes to the Legion of Balance become a beacon of light that Shemesh claims to be. Make them fall upon you for questioning the good in the world! Bring the fight to them and strike them down in fervent belief. If they want war, you shall give it to them!





We will see you in the coming months. Grand Voice Khal shall meet you when you arrive.






Is that a declaration of war?

[Zweanslord]

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/SunMandala.jpg
Source: https://www.dreamstime.com/royalty-free-stock-photos-sun-mandala-image20707818

Theocracy of Shemesh

The Light of Shemesh Shines
The Lands are Illuminated
Visible and Bright
Warm and Hot

Shemesh protects us
Ever radiant
Ever watchful
Ever caring

Public message to the Legion of Balance

Djehu sighs as he looks at the representative of the Legion of Balance. “Your news brings sadness to my heart. May you once see the Light, instead of fighting with Darkness.” And with that, Djehu leaves to bring the message to the Theocracy of Light.

Public message to the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn


Public message to the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn

A female messenger approaches the dwarves.

"Greetings, I am Khiti of the Theocracy of Shemesh. Your message has been received in the Light. Do you have a way to cross the oceans with the services you offer?"

Khiti awaits before the Dwarven Hold, waiting for a response in diligent patience.

Public message to the Ironfang Republic

“Thank you for your answer. Do you accept something other than coin or favour as well? Our coin alone is insufficient and our influence is tied up in defense against threats against the Light.”

Public message to the Church of the Truth Seeker

“Thank you for the advice, we will listen. Do you have any recommendations on how to go about it? That is a path I am no expert in, and I wish to bring advice from an expert such as your Church back home.”

As Nebtise stayed at the Church, eventually a second messenger arrives. He acknowledges Nebtise.

“Greetings, I am Ihoser, from the Theocracy of Shemesh. The Legion of Balance marches on the Theocracy of Shemesh and will seek out the Church of the Truth Seeker as well, if not now, than later!

The Theocracy of Shemesh requests the aid of the Church of the Truth Seeker against the Legion of Balance!”

(EDIT)

Public message to all, except the Legion of Balance

“The Theocracy of Shemesh offers three groups of pilgrims and seekers to assist in whatever venture you seek this season in exchange for soldiers, missionaries, diplomats or the strength of your prayer. While the Theocracy seeks to make a stand against the Legion of Balance, know that the requested aid is not expected to be used in conquest of land, as the Theocracy of Shemesh knows of no route across the seas that is safe enough for such a war effort.”

OOC: Offering the use of 3 Adventurers this turn in exchange for the use of Military, Reputation or Morale this turn. It's not intended to be used for taking territory, so no route is needed, as the GM specified on Discord earlier that only for taking territory a route is needed. Ofcourse, if you do have a route available, intentions may change, but I don't expect that.

[LimSindull]

Grock will go into a new lair by himself (equipped with Flametounge) for 1 lvl (1 vip =2 Adv)

5 adv will Continue one level in the Troll Dens.

I am trading with Shemesh and using their 3 adv to explore the next level of the Pirates Island.

This should leave me 2 adv left

We here you from across the mountains. I'm willing to exchange some of my gnomes to help improve your control over those who follow you. Your adventurers will be most welcome. ((ooc))Offering 3 mor for 3 adv((ooc))

We are willing to to make this trade. If you can use your might to help us cut down our enemies, we will happily supply you with magic and agents over the next three turns.

[Zweanslord]

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/MedjuCapitalOfLight.jpg
Source: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/4bkGJ8

Medju, Capital of Light, Theocracy of Shemesh

Look upon the Radiant Walls of White
The Beacon illuminating the Lands
Amidst Desert Sands in the Heat
Shines Medju, Capital of Light!

Territory 15 is Medju, Capital of Light

Founded by the latest wave of Shemesh migrants, Medju, Capital of Light, has drawn many more to the banner of Shemesh. At its center, the Beacon, a bright fire to illuminate night and day is kept going indefinitely. Lying amidst the deserts, but along a river which eventually flows along the mountains to a waterfall spilling in a lake, giving rise to another river flowing to the seas. It is the center of the Theocracy of Shemesh, where paths congregate and the faithful pray and meditate. Pilgrims travel to this holy site, where Archpriestess Anhkaret has blessed the Beacon.

Yet it stands in danger so soon upon its founding, as just beyond the border, past the river, the Legion of Balance has claimed the territory, their banners of darkness waving in the same desert winds.

The gates of Medju open and through it travel three caravans of pilgrims and seekers, heading out a long journey, to avoid the forces of the Legion of Balance, the Fungal Combine and Balem, to find their way to the foreign lands far away, their path illuminated with a mission.

Public Message to Silvermist

“The Theocracy of Shemesh accepts your offer, the pilgrims and seekers will be on their way. Your offer is final and no further offer for the pilgrims and seekers, casting light where they go, will be accepted by the Theocracy of Shemesh. May the Light of Shemesh be radiant and banish darkness where you go.”

Public Midturn/End of Turn

Three groups of pilgrims and seekers (3 Adventurers) make their way through the lands of Hanrui to assist Silvermist in their efforts!

OOC to all: No longer offering 3 Adventurers this turn.

[Janwin]

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn


Greetings to the Theocracy,

Our trade vessels are able to ply the seas to travel anywhere, though we have not yet built sufficient fleets or supply lines to provide shield dwarves to the other continents.

In Service,

Forgemaster Kargrin Firehammer

Sending 2 Adv into The Mine of Kurn Duz. If one dies, they'll withdraw.

OOC: how does this summit work? Do we do it here, in another thread or in Discord?

[GameOfChampions]

Turn 2 Midturn

Legion of Balance
Mor 6
The Legion of Balance sent 2 Adv with potions, (+) Adv, into the Minotaur's Labyrinth and cleared 3 floors. They gained several rare pieces of ivory ((+++) Econ). They lost 2 Adv in the dungeon from a surprise attack by several Minotaur warriors.


Brotherhood of Sin
Mor 4
The Brotherhood of Sin sent 4 Adv into the Necromantic Palace and cleared 4 floors. They came back with a black diamond ((+) Econ), several rare potions ((++) Adv), and some rare mind manipulation magics for Ashmodel the Ever Burning Mote.


Pillar of Wisdom
Mor 5
The Pillar of Wisdom sent 2 Adv into the Warped Cave and cleared 2 floors. They came back with ancient potions ((+) temp Adv), and a Staff of Arcane Power (+1 Mag Item).


The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn
Mor 7
The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn sent 2 Adv into the Mine of Kazn Duz and cleared 2 floors. They came back with ancient forge techniques for Forgemaster Kargrin (xp for VIP), and a pair of ancient potions ((++) temp Adv).


The Fungal Collective
Mor 11
The Fungal Collective sent 2 Adv with potions, (+) temp Adv, into The Open Cicatrix and cleared 3 floors. They came back with several rare reagents ((++) temp Mag), and a Blood Venom Whip (+1 Mil Item). A rogue Formian was unleashed from the dungeon!


Free City of Khasal
Mor 2
The Free City of Khasal sent 4 Adv led by the Intrepid Atena Nalar, Ruby-Eyed, Ruin-Seeker, Cartographer of the Perfected Map [Tier 1 Adventurer] into The Old Place and cleared 6 floors. They came back with a pair of old potions((++) temp Adv), an ancient dungeonering journal for Intrepid Atena (xp for VIP), and an Assassins Dagger (+1 Esp Item). The adventurers tripped several traps that flooded parts of the dungeon, Dungeon locked for 2 turns.


Church of the Truth Speaker
Mor 5
The Church of the Truth Speaker sent 2 Adv led by The Grand Voices Hybert, Dawn, Jeleva and Myra into the Mirror of Shadows and cleared 9 floors. They came back with a memory gem to help the abilities of The Grand Voice Hybert, a crate of ancient potions ((++++) temp Adv), a powerful magical artifact that can influence monsters, and a small dragon horde full of coins and jewels ((++++++) temp Econ). Your adventurers trip several traps that kills 2 Adv and locks the dungeon for 4 Turns!

Monster Redirection Artifact: You can pay 3 Mag to redirect a monster from your territory to another players or a neutral one, if you have Esp higher than a players Mor who has a monster in their nation you can redirect those in the same manor and for the same cost.


Silvermist
Mor 7
Silvermist sent Grock with his Flametongue into the Beholder Caverns and cleared 3 floors. They also sent 5 adv into the Feral Troll Tribe Den and cleared 5 Floors. They also sent 3 Adv into the Pirate Fortress and cleared 3 floors. They came back with a bag of silver coins ((+) temp Econ), old magical scrolls ((++) temp Mag), a pair of magical mirrors that seem to be for communication, an ancient pair of tapestries dedicated to an ancient Star Born Goblinoid ((++++) temp Rep), and what seems to be the torso and head of an ancient Warforged warrior that shut down when it lost the bottoms half. They seemed to misplace some loot during a trying fight and unleashed a Kraken from the Pirate Fortress!

Magic Mirrors: Can do PMs with another player of your choice without a VIP invested in it, though the mirrors are equipped to VIPs and take an item slot. However the other player can choose to destroy or keep their mirror, thereby rendering it destroyed or locked into being with them.

Sentient Construct VIP: You have 1/2 of the pieces needed to activate the artifact VIP.

[Writtensanity]

MOR 5




The note seems haphazardly scrawled, like it was on the way to a meeting.

We cannot lend believers at this time to fight for another God. Though we do stand with you in spirit and our brothers in solidarity and will be making moves towards destroying the evils that are on the continent of Kyrsull. For now though, this season is not the time for action.

Grand Voice Khal,






After our most recent adventures into the shadow realms we have come upon a way of getting rid of an monsters that might have been unleashed, if your areas. If you happen to have a monster that you would like removed, please let us know and I am sure we can arrange terms. We are aligned against those not striving for good afterall.

Grand Voice Sylas, Slayer of Exzir.

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

Hypothetically... if say... a Kracken appeared and ravaged a city... is that the kind of monster you are looking to vanquish?

[Writtensanity]

We would be happy to help you with your tentacled problem. Some Adventures for pathmaking or Economic assistance and we are happy to rid you of the problem.

OOC: 4 ADV or 4 ECON to take care of the Kraken for you during EOT.

[Zweanslord]

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/SunSymbolClarity.jpg
Source: https://awakeningvisions.com/art/zen-decor/

Theocracy of Shemesh

Shemesh is Blinding to those of Darkness
A raging Blaze seering their bodies
Those of Darkness seek Everlasting Night
In the cold their bodies whither

A verse told, to show that those who seek to quell the light are doomed to bring about their own downfall, for all living needs the Light. Ofcourse, with undead roaming about, more verses are needed for additional clarity, but it is not undead the Theocracy of Shemesh faces. It is the Legion of Balance, marching on their borders, waving dark banners, clad in black armour, their blades denying the Light. And yet, it is not the only thing the Theocracy of Shemesh has to watch out for, because growing its defenses is the Fungal Combine. While not bordering the Theocracy, it is advancing its borders, albeit slowly. Reasons enough for concern in the Theocracy, which becomes more evident by the day...

Public message to the Church of the Truth Seeker

Nebtise and Ihoser leave with the message back to the Theocracy of Shemesh. Eventually, Nebtise returns, carrying a glass orb with her. She requests to see the most important person they will let her see, after a lengthy ritual and ceremony involving the glass orb. Anybody with magic skill beyond that of an apprentice should be able to determine that almost all, if not actually the complete ceremony, was unnecessary, though Nebtise is resolute it was needed. It did include a lot of praise to Shemesh.

Afterwards, a small mirage appears above the glass orb, hardly two hands high. In vague contours and the shifting of a fata morgana, the image shows Archpriestess Akhteret! Nebtise is very impressed! She exclaims she is blessed to perform a miracle, despite possessing no magical talent.


http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/Archpriestesssmall.jpg
Source: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/AYNVW


“May the Light of Shemesh reach us all. Greetings, I am Archpriestess Akhteret of the Theocracy of Shemesh!

I beseech upon Grand Voice Khal, Grand Voice Dawn, Grand Voice Jeleva, Grand Voice Sylas, Grand Voice Myra, Grand Voice Hybert, their Voices and chorus, please, hear my plea! I desperately ask for your aid on behalf of the Theocracy of Shemesh!

The Legion of Balance threatens with Darkness on our borders and seeks to strike down the Devout, the Zealous! Please, I ask for your kindness, your voice, so that in Light and Sound, we may show that Darkness is not a path to follow.

I, Archpriestess Akhteret of the Theocracy of Shemesh, ask for cooperation, I call on your Zeal. I beg you, please, ever so kindly pray for us. I ask for your prayers, so the Legion of Balance may cease this course and Darkness may leave them!”

OOC: I’m begging for Morale assistance!

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

We find ourselves in the unfortunate position of being forced to accept your offer.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Morale 6
Reputation 5


The Esteemed Corin Letara thinks it an intrusive thought, at first. Gradually, however, as the fragments of thought arrange themselves into a recognizable pattern, he comes to realize that it is a message projected into his mind - an offer masked as his own thoughts. A whispered proposition. Not a deal with a devil; nothing so nefarious. Just a suggestion of mutually beneficial arrangement between mutually exclusive nations.

Flooding in the Old Palace? How tragic. If the Free City of Khasal needs someone to send their intrepid adventurers to in the next few seasons, the Astral Collective could arrange that. Not without concessions, naturally. If you and your nation are interested, send a message for Spymistress Kalira.

Offering Khasal an alternate locale to which to send their adventurers while their Adventuring Site is locked... for a price, of course, proportionate to the number of floors you clear.




We are glad to hear that we can assist you in your fight against the forces of evil.

Unfortunately, our offer has changed somewhat. After reviewing our current resources, we are no longer able to commit our magic, only our considerable espionage capabilities. I hope this is still amenable to you; I do apologize.

The Astral Collective is now offering to hit them with 10 ESP for 2 ESP for each of the next five turns. Open to hitting any of their stats - I would suggest ESP, MOR, or MIL. I think I can hit them for roughly 3 points of damage. Still interested?

[St.Just]

The Free City of Khasal

Reputation 3
Messages Essentially Public



The reply is appreciated, and I will endeavour not to take offence to your lack of theological nuance. I lack the means to simply outbid myself, but to make a counteroffer? Explorers mapping the palace beneath out City have triggered some truly impressive wards, and until they are deciphered we will have a surplus of well armed and inventive daredevils and malcontents. They might find useful purpose amongst your company in the coming months?

No more rep or econ to throw on the pile, but would 2 or 3 points of ADV next turn be persuasive?





In what was absolutely not a petty response to how the message was initially delivered, the reply was given in the form of a message written in stone on a mountainside by a temporarily summoned elemental an hour or so from the nearest Tetrahedron on the Collective’s border. In pristine calligraphy, it read.

To Spymisstress Kalira

It is always a pleasure to make the acquaintance of another well-regarded agent of your people, and my particular thanks for introducing me to the novel method of communication. Your offer has been warmly received by those I have reached out to, but I’m afraid the majority of them are not exactly the type to commit to the safer but less lucrative path until they’re certain the other avenues are exhausted. But for the sake of curiosity, just was sort of concessions did you have in mind, hypothetically?

Best wishes and warm regards,
Corin Letarra, of Golden Hand and Silver Tongue

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 6
Reputation 6

Setting Sail

Qual leaned over the side of the gunwale and ejected what was left of his morning gruel over the side of the ship. Thankfully the rations were mostly liquid, and therefore dispersed into the swells without too much trouble. He took one look out over the horizon and immediately regretted it. Undulating hills of jet and slate stretched out for as far as he could see, gleaming crescents of silver visible only where the indolent afternoon sun's light pushed through the oncoming squalls from the west. There, poking out of the roiling tapestry like so much kindling, Qual spotted the other two vessels of their expeditionary force. If he squinted his eyes, he could almost make out his new home's standard above the colors of Vallenport.

"Cheer up! You can basically still see Oprak from here." Qual groaned to himself as he recognized the too-chipper voice of Squeaker. The goblin scout stood barely three and a half-feet tall, but on a ship where his kind could crawl and climb to their heart's content, that meant nothing at all. Squeaker had actually volunteered to accompany the forces that had requisitioned the company's current lodgings from the sailors down south - for what reason, he couldn't fathom - and had seemed right at home here since they left the Lantern Hills. Through bleary eyes, the hobgoblin registered that the subject of his musings was scratching his chin thoughtfully, which in his experience was never a good sign.

"We only have... what, a two month journey ahead of us? That leaves us plenty of time to get blown off course, fall prey to storms, or be eaten by any number of awful sea creatures. I for one am excited to see us capsize!" Dodging the follow-up kick, Squeaker vaulted his way nearly ten feet up the rigging and out of Raeq's reach.

"You'd drown too! Do you know how to swim?"

"Let me answer your question with a question, Qual: do you know that dead bodies float in water?"

"Fantastic. Now you're stuck in the ocean, on top of a dead body. Now what? How are you planning on getting to land?"

"I'm so glad you asked! The solution is actually quite simple, and only requires a dagger and some alchemist's fire! You see, when the body dies, it releases any leftover waste from its hindquarters. So you make an incision..."

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and middle finger, Qual let the words wash over him and remembered why he'd been told never to talk to scouts. He was making to leave when behind him, he heard more movement: two feet made a solid thump as they landed on the wooden deck of the carrack. It seemed as though his torment was not yet over.

"Okay, I can see you're clearly not interested in hearing about the future of aquatic travel. How about I tell you a story of your people instead?" Qual looked around to find Squeaker lounging on a nearby barrel. Qual thought about the proposition for a moment, before deciding that there was probably nothing worse than sitting here staring out at purgatory. Probably. Well, he could always throw the little sh*t overboard. He would just tell the sergeant that it was self-defense, that he had been protecting his sanity. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Alright Squeaker, but only if you promise that this one has no mention of pyrotechnics, the desecration of corpses, or tropical fruit." The hobgoblin had to admit that he didn't like the grin he received in return, but he gave the forsaken creature the go ahead all the same.

"Okay, here goes." Squeaker made a sound that Qual knew was clearing his throat but honestly sounded more like two cats in heat. "Untold centuries ago, when humanoids still lived a primitive existence in the wild, a small hobgoblin tribe sought shelter from a great thunderstorm. That night, a powerful bolt of lightning sundered a mighty oak tree standing outside the cavern in which they slept. Not only did this event destroy the tree, but it also melted the very stones encircling it. The hobgoblin chieftain, whose name has been lost from memory, reasoned that if fire from the sky could reshape stone, then it could also shape metal - a concept not yet known to his people. Thus, the destruction of the tree gave birth (or so the legend says) to primitive metallurgy. Upon seeing the first blade so crafted, the chief wondered aloud what he had created. The tribe's priest answered simply, 'It is death.' Since that day, that first blade, Thanate, was then passed down through the generations of hobgoblins." Qual, having fully prepared to make good on his threat, instead sat engrossed as his loathsome little friend recounted this strange tale.

"Centuries later, a hobgoblin champion named Kuyibet - one of the wielders of Thanate - was fleeing from a horde of angry dwarf warriors bent on his destruction. Pursued day and night up steep cliffs and winding mountain pathways, the exhausted hobgoblin eventually found himself perched on the highest peak of the land. With no escape route available, Kuyibet bravely turned to face his doom. Yet at that very instant, a blue-white crack of lightning split the cloudless sky, opening a great crevasse at the feet of his pursuers. Down they hurtled into the dark depths, leaving the hobgoblin alone and unscathed." How had Qual never heard of this tale before? At first he thought that Squeaker was making the story up whole-cloth, before dismissing the idea as absurd. The little goblin just didn't have it in him. Awful ingenuity in the realms of all things covert and incendiary? Absolutely. An adeptly told story with pacing that didn't involve awful atrocities? Definitely not. No, Squeaker had picked up this tale from somewhere else.

"But then," Squeaker leaned in, his breath smelling of spirits and other liquors that Qual really didn't want to think about, "Kuyibet made a mistake. You see, he had drawn his legendary blade when he believed himself surrounded, the better to defend himself with. The sword was bared when the lightning struck. And in his shock, Kuyibet dropped Thanate down the very same chasm that promised to be his salvation. The artifact of his people, the famed sword had been the price for his survival. So Kuyibet stood, alive but defenseless. When he descended from the mountains, it was said that he was eventually hunted and executed by his own people for bringing dishonor to the hobgoblin tribes."

"What of the blade itself? What of Thanate? Did it survive the fall?"

The scout simply shook his head. "Nobody knows for sure. Over the years several of my own people have claimed ownership over such a sword, only to such weapons to inevitably be fakes. But some of us believe it might be here, on Hanrui. You know, my cousin - " The sound of a horn blaring out through the air cut Squeaker off. Qual looked out over the waters to the source of the noise, the first ship in their little fleet. Soon the horns were echoed by each of the vessels, as the dark clouds to the west drew ever closer. Wonderful, it looks like the little menace might be a prophet too.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to finish the story later, eh?" Still grinning, the goblin hopped off the barrel and began to make his way belowdecks, leaving Qual alone once more. The hobgoblin stood on the balustrade for a few moments longer, pondering what he had heard, about the foolish warrior and the lost sword. What did that all mean? Were they all destined to die like

Setting his jaw and putting all thoughts of legends aside, the soldier looked ahead instead to the sea... and imagined the war that awaited at its end.

Greetings, adventurers of Silvermist,

The Ironfang Republic must regrettably inform you that another nation has made a superior bid for our soldiery. We fight for the Free City of Khasal this season. However, take solace in the fact that your enemy - the demonic forces of the Brotherhood of Sin - remains our foe as well, and the actions we undertake will be at their cost. Rest assured that our forces will do their best to deplete the strength of the fiends of Kyrsull, to better make safe the continent for all.

Please know that as an adventurer myself, I would have preferred to walk among and speak to your fine people, but the needs of my Republic come before my own preferences. I hope that this does not mean that our nations cannot deal further in the future, as we have high hopes for Silvermist. Our agreement of non-aggression will remain in place: from Oprak's point of view, you remain a promising ally in these trying times. I wish you all the best in the wars to come.

- General Azaersi
Dearest Grand Voice,

We here in Oprak extend our gratitude for the information you have provided. We expect that our own subterranean complexes might hold dangers of their own, and so may ask for some assistance in the near future in order to deal with unwanted complications at home. Alas, risk is a necessity to fortune, and a goblin's life knows plenty of both.

The Republic wishes your people the best this season, and congratulates you on your newfound title. We hope to hear more of your fine exploits when our emissary returns from the Fortress of First Words, Slayer of Exzir.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic
Greetings, citizens of Khasal,

We have been fielded other offers, but in the end yours has proven the most lucrative. As such, the Republic has pledged its steel in your service for this season of war. Our ships are already en route to your shores, and should be arriving within the month.

My men and I will handle our own accommodations once we arrive, but I expect to meet with your own officers in short order to relay the relevant commands to my troops about how we should best be deployed.

- General Azaersi

The Ironfang Republic accepts your bid of 3 REP, 2 ECO, and 3 ADV in exchange for 5 MIL and 1 ADV.
The note is unique not in its composition, but in its delivery. Care is taken to mathematically divide up the distance between Oprak and the lands of the Legion, and the bound scroll is sent exactly the same amount of miles by ship, on foot, and through the air. By the time it reaches its destination, the parcel has seen all three realms.

Dearest champions of balance,

The Ironfang Republic would like to extend our warmest wishes and thanks for your missives thus far. We have heard your call for balance between the cosmic forces of good and ill, and several of our own priests and philosophers have reflected on your denunciation of our own forces. Suffice it to say that your message caused something of a stir in Oprak when it arrived, and although we have not yet arrived at a final conclusion, I can relay with some confidence a tentative reply.

As a whole, the goblins of Oprak do not believe in good or evil. While it is true that in the past, many of our kind have been servants to evil powers or even acted as conquerors ourselves, the Hymns of Hadregash have provided our people with belief that we can be better than the worst of creatures. Conversely, we have no wish to emulate the holy orders of this world. Ours is not a religion of virtue and piety, but rather of results, of victory won in iron, coin, and deals. We take the world as it is, not as we wish it to be. Our actions might reflect an imbalance in the world, as we are currently aligned with those who serve Above, but make no mistake: we are not them. We are goblinkind, and serve no masters but ourselves.

Therefore, we goblins of the Republic would politely ask that you retract your words towards us. In fact, we hope that our purposes are more aligned than any of us considered possible. If you can accept that the Republic is not a force for good nor for evil, then perhaps we can discuss these philosophies later in more depth.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Morale 6
Reputation 5

The letter, marked for Corin Letarra, is found in the home of whichever unfortunate soul lives next to the man of Golden Hand and Silver Tongue. Any who approach it feel a powerful sense of unease, growing stronger the closer they get to the source. Using a large set of tongs and several dozen men & women, the letter is brought to Corin’s domicile; unsurprisingly, Corin himself seems to be immune to the effect. Whether it was delivered to the wrong address by mistake or if it was intentional is impossible to ascertain. It is simple parchment bound in silver twine.

To the meritorious Corin Letarra,

Believe me, the pleasure was all mine. I find that one needs to enjoy the little things while they can, in this line of work. So much of what we do is serious, with such great stakes. The golem was a nice touch. Had it been capable of feeling pain, it would have been the end of correspondence.

As for the payment, it would depend on how far you delve. We would want [ESP] equal to the number of floors delved, along with a promise to deal with any complications that might occur. For an additional fee of [2 ECON], we would be willing to commit [1 ADV] and Zeilrae [Tier 2 VIP – 1 MIL/1 REP], who might be entertained by such an adventure. For another [3 in any combination of ESP and ECON], we will send our military forces [3 MIL] in alongside them. All the treasures discovered would be yours to keep, and we would be happy to receive the payment across multiple seasons, given your – ahem – current predicaments.

Let me know if such a deal is of interest to the Free City of Khasal.

With all due respect,

Kalira, Daughter of Silence

[Hamste]

City of Wraiths Morale 7


Many intelligent undead can live healthy happy lives. As for the type I would suggest it would really depend on how he died. The easiest is a wraith, though due to the lack of body it isn't suggested if he was a very physical person. The lack of taste and not many wraiths in your population for physical interaction makes this not a great choice, though there is no physical upkeep which is nice.

Grave Knight is a much more physical option with no physical upkeep, though he would need to have died in his armor.

I personally suggest ghoul though, they aren't the strongest physically but there is very little to no mental degradation becoming one, they can feel though it tends to be muted from my understanding and they can still eat. They have a lot more upkeep than the other bodies, it is important you keep the body from rotting preferably with magic or a whole lot of alcohol. Some enchantments can be done before they are raised to help delay the onset of rot but doing proper care can delay the time until redeath significantly.

Anyways, it is worth considering. Many people live happy, healthy lives in undeath and it is good to consider it.


It sounds good to us, thank you for your support. We will make sure the soldiers are ready to be traded. Also seeing you seem to be looking for a place to adventure, always feel free to explore our city, carefully. We do ask that if you do so and find any artifact related to necromancy that we get it and if you release something dangerous that you help deal with it.



I'm afraid something so temporary doesn't help stave off collapse. We managed to find another source though so it isn't a big deal. We thank you for at least making an offer. Hopefully, we can work together at some point though. I do still dream of making that Collective, Khasal and Wraiths alliance.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Church of the Truth Seeker

Archpriestess Akhteret, visible above the glass orb as a small mirage held up by Nebtise awaits the answer to her plea (OOC: in post #68 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=24331776&postcount=68)).

"Please, I beg of you, assist us in our time of need against the Darkness of the Legion of Balance! The strength granted by your prayer will be used according to the advice given by the Church to Nebtise. (OOC: post #59 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=24329425&postcount=59)) Let us work together in the face of a common foe!"

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

"If Grock was here it wouldn't have happened."

"I know."

The Kracken thrashed and smashed the settlement. Captain Goldfinder read through the letters again.

I hope this message finds you well. We will be sending two tomes (4 Mag) that will help with your divine inspirations. It is such an amazing thing, that which can be found here in the world. We await your assistance in defeating this monstrosity. We will take care of everything once you destroy this thing.

Your companions were most welcome during the last season. I fear to think what would have happened without their abilities to guide us. They are truly a light in these dark times.

It's damned that you informed me in a prompt fashion. I've two ships halfway to your continent and what's more they would have been of the most extreme use what with the Kracken rampaging off our coasts. You seem set in helping this other nation without even hearing a counter offer. May you wear a frown when you read this. I don't know what I expected in dealing with your ilk. You cost me every time I talk to you.

I see you undercutting my bid for military help. I would use this to crush the enemy near us. Instead of discussing options with me, you go behind my back and take the reinforcements I've already invested in. Does your treachery no no ends? Your Stupidity? Enticing a bidding war for the goblins privilege. We could have come together and worked out a cheaper price for what we both wanted.

Well, forgive my stupidity. Here I thought you were my enemy, yet it seems like that damnable Free City is the one undercutting me at every turn. I have the means to assist you in an attack against them. I will cut whatever support they can gather and my Military is ready to flank them. Let me know if this is attuned with what you would like.

Think nothing of it. We are extremely hopeful to have you on our side. Our target has changed somewhat. The Brotherhood of Sin is an obvious enemy, but we are starting to see the true face of the so called Free City. They wear a nice smile, but they step with a dagger in their hands. They have cut reinforcements that we would use to defeat the Brotherhood of Sin. We ask that you attack them. Let the people see their true ways and stop whatever military expanse you can. We will grant you the magic that you ask and more.

Thank you for your offer. We are begging preparations to bring back our hero. Under your guidance we will retrieve the body. ((OOC))It will take a turn or two to get everything ready((OOC)) I would also ask if you would be willing to target someone who is showing themselves to be an enemy of my nation. The Free City has undercut my military reinforcements. I am willing to work out the price I would pay for those troops to have reinforcements in either your spys or armies. ((OOC))Offering 4 eco for you to harm the Free City of Khasal((OOC))

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal

Reputation 3
Copies of messages deliverable to all embassies on request



Marvelous. Berths in Khasal have been set aside for your ships, and I will begin gathering promising recruits in Quepta so you might begin teaching them what soldiery looks like.

I do look forward to meeting you, General. I’ve always had a personal interest in the arts your original countrymen used to infuse their champions and elite with arcane power, and I would adore the chance to hear of them from someone who knows the subject first-hand.

-The Exalted Lia Misri, Beloved of the Architect.

that is, to be clear, 3 rep and 2 eco this turn and 3 adv on the next. Also, if you’re taking 3 adv instead of 2, want to throw on a point of magic too? :smalltongue:





I’m extremely glad, and I look forward to walking your lovely isles with my own two feet. If nothing else, to personally raise a toast with you to the success of our cooperation, may it continue for many seasons for come. By the next year, I’m certain your present difficulties will be forgotten, and you coffers will be overflowing with silver.

Your offer of a distraction for the City’s resident population of daredevils and glorhounds is greatly appreciated, though that is not precisely my area of expertise-and none of them are especially the sorts to plan out their travels months ahead of time to begin with. I will have to right again in the coming months as to whether any friends of mine can take advantage.

-The Esteemed Corin Letarra





The reply is not delivered, per se. More accurate to call it assembled-over the course of several nights, a dozen or so everyday citizens receive extremely generous terms on various debts from personal failings-gambling, blackmail over some romantic indiscretion, and so on. All they have to do is go to a certain address and paint a phrase or two on the wall. Organized by the first letter of the ‘artist’’s name, they read

To Kalira, Skilled and Shadowed.

I’m overjoyed you’re enjoying this interesting game of cultural exchange.

I quite agree,

levity is a necessity of life.

The offer is certainly interesting,

though not the only one entertained.

As you say, the City is troubled.

But if you deal in trust and credit,

And the Collective is opposed to hellfire and eternal chains,

Perhaps we could deal for something else?

-The People’s Friend, and yours.




I outbid you on mercenaries accepting all offers, something you seem to have mistaken for a declaration of war. Treachery implies friendship, which you seem to have no great abundance of, or agreement, which your intriguingly adventurous corpse of a son stormed out of.

Make an offer yourself and buy their swords before they make landfall, if you like. I at least, won't consider it an injury.

Though the feeling is clearly not mutual, I truly have no quarrel with you. Cease attempting to deal with devils and hire assassins out of petty spite, and that may yet remain the case. Else, we may have to reconsider whether your expansion towards our border is acceptable.

-The Exalted Lia Misri, Beloved of the Architect, Weaver in Blood and Bone, Protector of Quepta.





The small group of angels have found themselves minor celebrities, the locus of the season’s most fashionable philosophical salon. Aside from an impressively thorough attempt by certain quarters to tempt them with every possible venal sin, their stay is mostly spent surrounded by insufferably well-read pedants, rhetoricians looking for new turns of phrase and metaphors from the Voice’s holy texts, and metaphysicians asking various questions of heavenly existence while clearly wishing they could be conducting an autopsy.

Still, as there host, interlocutor and constant companion, the Magnificent Vyas Asraya impresses on them with great sincerity his gratitude for the offer of aid against wild monsters, and the regard for the City it shows.

[LimSindull]

Our right to counter bid has been wholly ignored. They've chosen to back you completely without waiting for any counteroffer. Attached is a copy of the letter sent to us.Greetings, adventurers of Silvermist,

The Ironfang Republic must regrettably inform you that another nation has made a superior bid for our soldiery. We fight for the Free City of Khasal this season. However, take solace in the fact that your enemy - the demonic forces of the Brotherhood of Sin - remains our foe as well, and the actions we undertake will be at their cost. Rest assured that our forces will do their best to deplete the strength of the fiends of Kyrsull, to better make safe the continent for all.

Please know that as an adventurer myself, I would have preferred to walk among and speak to your fine people, but the needs of my Republic come before my own preferences. I hope that this does not mean that our nations cannot deal further in the future, as we have high hopes for Silvermist. Our agreement of non-aggression will remain in place: from Oprak's point of view, you remain a promising ally in these trying times. I wish you all the best in the wars to come.

- General AzaersiMy anger at you is for your lack of sight. We could have both gotten what we wanted and for cheaper. Again, it seems that you are only looking for you're own benefit and have no intent on actually being an ally or work together. My son wanted more than just a weak non aggression pact. First rights to trade would have been enough to put the Goldfinder name on a line. Anything to show an actual attempt to be more than passive onlookers.

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 6
Reputation 6

Greetings adventurer captains,

I will apologize for the run-about. The Republic was led to believe that the Free City of Khasal was prepared to strike a deal that vastly outstripped your own in both economic means as well as supplemental resources. We even intervened on your behalf by rejecting their initial - numerically superior - offer in favor of your friendship. However, upon revision of the terms we were offered, we found a clause that meant our payment would be delayed. That deal is considerably less attractive to Oprak now, and so we are prepared to re-open negotiations for our troops to be deployed.

However, do not mistake any patience towards your behavior for condoning it. We have offered you olive branches and fine terms of non-aggression. In response, your delegates have stormed petulantly out of peace summits and rebuffed offers of friendship. This is not behavior becoming of a nation that wishes to be taken seriously by her peers. As the season draws to a close and our ships are already en route, it was natural for me to assume that the time for dealing was at a close, hence the lack of counter-offer. That opportunity has been put back on the table now.

Silvermist remains a potential ally on Kyrsull for the goblin people, despite your reply. Do not sully that relationship prematurely by mistaking business arrangements for personal slights.

- General Azaersi

Right now, the deal to beat is [3 REP, 2 ECO, 2 ADV] (with 1 ADV being sent the turn after), without my having to pay any ADV to set up a permanent route as territory is not being taken. If you can beat that, then I will happily send my troops your way.
Greetings, citizens of Khasal,

The full terms of the deal you have sent along with your most recent correspondence is indeed pleasing, although the Republic accountants must have sent over an incomplete transcript; the current account stands just shy of even on our end. As luck would have it, Oprak is prepared to send over a cadre of Spell-Eaters to bolster the forces and aid in the training regimens when it comes to killing arcane creatures and spellcasters.

However, in light of these new terms and conditions - as well as the admittedly sour reply of our friends in Silvermist - the Republic is prepared to keep the offer open until the end of the season. Do not consider this a personal attack, but simply good business. We will keep all parties aware of our intentions comes season's end.

- General Azaersi

Sending 1 MAG might be acceptable, although I am letting Silvermist counter since the deal is not quite a sure thing like I thought it was. If they don't beat your offer, I plan on taking it and sending my MIL to you at EoT.
To the finest Jade Wizard,

Allow me to be the first to apologize for not having reached out to you over recent months. The events throughout Hanrui have been trying at times, and our fledgling Republic is still in the midst of its earliest years. There are several elements in our Council of Clans who have petitioned me to reach out to you for guidance in these mystifying times. The renown associated with your order has made its way through the streets of Oprak. The goblin people find themselves at the precipice of an unknown world, a world where one must struggle to keep one's head afloat and always be on the lookout for new dangers.

The people of the iron fangs would like nothing more from you than an assurance that you will not be one more such danger. Our people have no quarrel with you or your magics - in fact, the very same individuals I referred to earlier are quite curious about the goings on in your lands - and would like to establish a tentative agreement of non-aggression and non-interference. The Republic will stay out of your affairs, we will not field troops against you or your interests, and we will consider your opinion when it comes to international friendships across the continent. In exchange, we would ask for the same courtesies to be directed towards us. We hope that your order is amenable to such terms. If you are willing, the Republic might even be willing to strike further deals with you in the future, but we believe that a strong foundation is necessary in order to build a rapport that can stand the test of time.

Sincerely yours,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic

[GameOfChampions]

Legion of Balance
Mor 6
Salutations Scions of the Republic,

We hear your arguments and weigh your words, we appreciated your method of delivery very much. We say that actions may speak louder then words though. We saw you jump to set up a peace conference for all to attend, trying to stop the tide of war from overtaking those who call Hanrui home. We are open to your arguments though, we would not want to slay the champions of neutrality and balance. We have not waged war on you yet so we say this, make your arguments... your lives may depend on it.

Regards,
Lady Darkseeker

They are open to your convincing but it will take more then words.

Brotherhood of Sin
Mor 4

We knew you tough adventurers had more spine then we thought! This plan is deliciously wicked and we support it whole hog. We are planning on acting against the city this season and would relish your aid, we are willing to send an ally to discuss more intimate details of this burgeoning plan. If you bring the same level of power and ferocity to this plan as your scion the Orc brought to life we will be satisfied.

They are very interested and wish to talk more in PM if you are willing.

[Writtensanity]

Althala beat her wings against the cold sea air in the middle of the night. She had never been much of an endurance flyer until her new job as messenger forced her to be. It felt like every week she was being sent back across the treacherous ocean waves to the continent of Kyrsull to deliver a message. The first time she'd done it, she'd imagined she was flying back home after coming over to the new world on the Church's ships. Now she knew she wasn't going to be going back to the motherland any time soon, she was here now, in service of the Voice.

And thank goodness for the Voice, as it was the only thing keeping her warm inside right now.

Athala's soft glow reflected off the waves below her, the only light around for miles. The clouds were covering the moon and stars this evening. Despite the darkness, Athala found this better than the messages that she was going to have to bring, she'd heard of the Legion and had hoped that their balance was proper, that they knew that light was balance. Instead she was bringing a formal acknowledgement of their declaration, and it was likely the last time she was going to be in Legion lands.



Thank you for your generous treatment of our angels this past season. They have admitted to being tired of questions but they all knew where they were going when they ventured into your cities. We appreciate the hospitality.

We here at the Church saw the last message that was publically broadcast by the Silvermist. We know that you and them are not seeing eye to eye. If it is simply a monetary matter, we are willing to assist in keeping the peace by providing the forces to either side that does not win the bidding war between over the Goblins. The only extra point is that our troops would be unable to break our non-agression pacts with other nations, nor do we have the supply lines to make up a proper aggressive force. We are also letting Silvermist know of our intent to do this to try to quell the aggression that we are seeing amongst potential friends.

Grand Voice Khal,

As long as the bid that won the goblins over is matched, we are happy to provide.



I am offering to match the 5 MIL that the goblins would be sending in order to try to quell this before it turns into a war.



We here at the Church saw the last message that was publically broadcast by your people0 about the Free City. We know that you and them are not seeing eye to eye. If it is simply a monetary matter, we are willing to assist in keeping the peace by providing the forces to either side that does not win the bidding war between over the Goblins. The only extra point is that our troops would be unable to break our non-agression pacts with other nations, nor do we have the supply lines to make up a proper aggressive force. We are also letting The Free City know of our intent to do this to try to quell the aggression that we are seeing amongst potential friends.

As long as the bid that won the goblins over is matched, we are happy to provide.

Grand Voice Khal,



I am offering to match the 5 MIL that the goblins would be sending in order to try to quell this before it turns into a war.





Good day,

At the beginning of the season you sent out a message to all the people across the lands that you were looking to make economic trade with people from around the continent. We know that you are currently meeting with us at the conference but considering the amount of coin we have found from the dragon Exzir, we would be possibly interested in a trade if you let us know what you have on offer.



I have 15 ECON burning a hole in my pocket.





To the Theocracy of Shemesh;


After a while of waiting in silence the Angel at the front of the fortress of first words begins to speak in a voice that is not her own. She stares down at the orb that is projecting the lady with eyes alight with divine fire.

"Believers in a false God. We know you are pious and good, but you continue to ask for us to assist you rather than attend to the fact that the Church itself is bound in a war with the Legion. The Voice commands mercy, so we have not flown to your gates ourselves. The Voice commands patience, so we have listened to your pleas. The Voice demands peace, so we will force the Legion of Balance to embrace good as the balance. And the Voice demands that we attend to the followers, and as such your plea will not be answered. Wartime is not the time for charity outside of our borders. If you wish to have the power of the Voice at your side;

RENOUNCE YOUR FALSE GOD AND WE WILL FIGHT FOR YOU AS WE FIGHT FOR THE CHORUS.

If you choose to pray to Shemesh, I hope that he is powerful enough to answer.






Dearest Ironfang;

We are reaching out to those bidding on your troops in an attempt to avoid a war between the two sides. Please let us know if you do not appreciate this.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective:

Morale 6
Reputation 5

The message is sent on regular parchment, bound in silver twine. Corin's steward spends several hours attempting to determine what is unusual about it before declaring it to be perfectly normal.

Greetings, Corin.
That was a rather inspired method of communication.

I am glad you are receptive to a discussion regarding an arrangement for your wayward aventurers, but we are not interested in intervening in squabbles between neighbors unless one of them is literally composed of the forces of the Nine Hells.

Let us know if the deal we proposed is of interest to you.

Regards,

Kalina, Spymistress of the Astral Collective


Greetings.

On behalf of the Astral Collective, I wish to express my disappointment. I understand your frustration in having been outbid by the Free City of Khasal, but your actions have been rash and impetuous to the highest degree. How can you ask us for our aid while seeking to work hand in hand with the Brotherhood of Sin? Conspiring with the literal forces of the Nine Hells? We are not overly fond of Khasal, but they pose a significantly lesser threat to Hanrui as a whole.

We are willing to strike at the Brotherhood of Sin, per the terms of the deal we proposed, provided that you immediately - and publicly - denounce them for the unapologetic force of evil that they are.

Respectfully,

The Council of Speakers of the Astral Collective

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal


All correspondences published by Three Rivers News for the edification of the public.



This seems a beautiful compromise, in principle. But I have seen copies of messages sent not a week past wherein the Captain begged for alliance with the Brotherhood of Sin, pledging to attack the City while we were occupied with the hordes of hell. Should the esteemed and well-regarded Silvermist Company publicly denounce any such idea of cooperation with the Diabolical, I would be more than happy to accept their good name as collateral.

I also feel obliged to point out that the offer was for 5 mil and 1 adv. Which wouldn’t matter, except I need a point of adv or mag to make my math work :smalltongue:

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

Floating Gnome heads disperse themselves throughout the land. "I am not an idiot. I know that working with literal Demons will only end in my own damnation here as well as whatever afterlife I fall to. I denounce the Brotherhood of Sin as a brutish force that is flailing about to drag the world down with it. Starting at my door."

I will not apologize for my brashness. You have cost me, cost us, the opportunity of a quick and decisive strike against the Brotherhood of Sin and their demon army. I could have matched them face to face with the help of Ironfang's soldiers and used the Collectives help to ensure that their army was in terrible position throughout the season. If you were only looking to bolster your army, I have ways to do that. I can't however throw gold at demons and expect as effective an outcome. This is why Grock wanted a greater alliance. A communicating group will always do better than two selfish pricks wagging at each other. So, let me eat my words and apologize for my brashness.

You have drawn more of your own resources away from the front lines in a manner that will only help you. I would argue that it will be to a lesser effect than my use of the same troops. This is something that we could have discussed if you had come to me, your literal neighbor that is also staring literal demons in the face. Congratulations on your bombastically expensive military training. I hope that we can come up with something next year that would benefit us both.

I withdrawal any mentioned offer for the damage of the Free City of Khasal. It was a brash an impetuous idea brought about by a fit of rage. Best laid plans of Gnomes and pixies, eh? I still look forward to your help in bringing forth my champion.

Forgive me for being rash and impetuous. I don't have a collective on hand to talk me down. I also don't have a military that matches the Brotherhood of Sin's for an attack this season. I am not willing to pay you to attack someone that you claim to despise while I am forced to sit idle. Especially while, I still feel as the gotten goose. I am willing to take your help in training my own people. It is something that we lack. ((ooc)) Offering the 2 esp for 5 turns if you'll lend me your 10 Esp for internal building((ooc))

The best I can do is perhaps pay you in a more favorable manner. I would still be wanting the route to be set, so I doubt that you'll see to terms that allow for an attack on the Brotherhood of Sin this season.

Thank you for stepping in. If at all possible, I would hope that we could set a route for your troops to help in my attack. It is highly unlikely. I already owe you much for your promise to help defeat the Kracken at our shores. The Free City is offering Ironfang an absurd price. I hope that the Voice would guide you to look for a more equitable trade. I can grant you my own expertise in magic, as well as two adventurers and a bag of silver with a gold bar. ((ooc))Offering my VIP for the round (1 Mag) and another Mag; Two adventurers I was going to use to establish a route between myself and Ironfang; and 2 temp econ. Which you can use this turn or sit on if you wish.((ooc))

We might have need of some of your precious metals, what would you be looking for in return?

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Church of the Truth Speaker

Archpriestess Akhteret sighs, turn her image fades from view. Nebtise walks away, heading back to the Theocracy.

Public message to the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn

The messenger to the dwarf Hold returned to the Theocracy with their reply. When returning, the messenger had an offer, an offer which was spread throughout much of Hanrui.

Public message to all, except the Legion of Balance, Fungal Combine, the Brotherhood of Sin and Church of the Truth Speaker

"The Theocracy of Shemesh seeks aid to stand against the Darkness of the Legion of Balance. The Theocracy offers the full extent of its blessed coffers this season, two treasure chests, in exchange for the highest bidder of spirit and chorus this season at the end of the bidding period."

(OOC: Offering 2 Economy this turn for the highest bidder of Morale this turn. Bid ends in 29 hours from this post having been made.)

Public message to Legion of Balance

A messenger arrives again, the same as before. After a short greeting, a question is asked. "The Legion of Balance fights to move the balance to Evil. The forces of Darkness are used. Can the Legion of Balance use another force of Evil instead? Some consider the Fiery hot Efreeti as Evil, is it possible for the Legion of Balance to use their power instead of Darkness?"

[GameOfChampions]

Legion of Balance
Public


A messenger arrives again, the same as before. After a short greeting, a question is asked. "The Legion of Balance fights to move the balance to Evil. The forces of Darkness are used. Can the Legion of Balance use another force of Evil instead? Some consider the Fiery hot Efreeti as Evil, is it possible for the Legion of Balance to use their power instead of Darkness?"

The same Paladin women who runs the border fortress that you met previously joins the pilgrim outside the gates once more, folding her arms as she leans against the wall. "Well you guys are persistent if nothing else. Darkness is the base root of evil and what we default to but no we are not bound to it. The Paladins draw on any number of evil sources at will to fight evil, sometimes changing mid battle for any advantage. The rest of our forces adapt more organically, changing to draw on the power of those we defeat."

The Paladin draws her sword and holds the black blade up to the sun, concentrating for a second her form and the sword waver and blur before coming back into focus. Now the black clad women holds a blood red blade dripping fire while her armor has changed to look closer to the similarities of dragon scale with wicked clawed gauntlets. Her hair burns with the harsh light of the sun and her eyes bleed fire, every bat of the eyelashes sending a few sparks into existence for a second. "We can draw on the destructive forces of fire. The wicked flames of the efreet, the hellfire of the 9 hells, or the destructive powers of the red dragons roar. For our base armies to do this though we would need to defeat a nation that venerates fire or the sun. Or possibly the cold so we may oppose them better, the Lady guides the adaption of our armies. We are not as constricted though, the Lady gives us many weapons."

The Paladins form wavers and blurs once more switching quickly between forms. Thick leather and furs while a jagged shard of ice bleeds frost, a bone spear giving off a sickly green glow while covered in monstrously thick stone plate covered in black runes, and then tight breastplate over flexible leathers as two short swords move psionically through the air and eyes shine with purple light and unrestrained power.

Pillar of Wisdom
Mor 5

To Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic

We had been surprised we were not petitioned sooner. We have been waiting to be contacted by someone of your nations standing. Yet I suppose the brutes on the other continents demanded time and effort instead. We are amenable to your proposal of non-aggression and non-interference. We would ask a favor though for the bodies of several different goblinoids that make up your empire if you can spare them, it is fascinating how you threw off the shackles of your normally evil mindset. We believe there could be great strides in the bodies and minds of your people. If not no harm done we are working on other samples at this moment in time.

We await your next call,
High Wizard Arcturus
The Jade Wizard
Custodian of the Pillar of Wisdom

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal

Reputation 3
Read if you want.





So, the terms stand as stated, right? 3 Rep, 2 Eco this turn, 3 Adv next?






Hail, Grand Voice Khal,

My personal thanks for your diplomatic intervention. Fighting devils an activity best done without distractions.

May Glory find you,
The Magnificent Vyas Asrays, Great Man of the Republic



I wrote at the beginning of the season asking if you wished to cooperate, and the only effort you thought worth mentioning was a drive to expand along the coast, an idea I have no quarrel with but one which causes no harm to the Brotherhood that I can discern. If, in the coming months, you wished to reach out with something concrete, I would happily entertain an emissary.

As is, the matter seems resolved to the satisfaction of everyone involved, and I have gained a valuable warning that the devils plan to attack as soon as the passes fall. A lovely result for everyone involved, no?

The Exalted Lia Misri, Weaver in Blood and Bone, Protector of Quepta



Anhkaret,

You’re basically guaranteed to get a better offer, but far be it from me to not take advantage of the desperate.

For two chests, I can commission almost every street performer, illusionist, and public entertainer in the Free City. Interested?

-Atena

[offering 2 Mor for 2 Eco]

[Writtensanity]

MOR 5



Though we did originally say we would match the winning bid, we do wish to assist you in the fight against the Devils now that you have made a public declaration against them. Unfortunately for us, the 2 ADV that you have on staff wouldn't be able to be used this season so we would be interested in another resource. As a sign of friendship we will maintain a less extravagant price.

Alternatively, if a small retinue of adventures would be interested in permanently staying on staff, our soldiers would happily work for the coming season.


We can do 5 for 5 as you mentioned but I can't accept ADV as part of that. Alternatively I am willing to trade 5 MIL this season for one of your ADV stats being transferred to me.




Public Message to the Theocracy:

Please don't lump us in with the evils in the world for not providing for free what you are offering everyone else treasure for. We would hate for the front against the Legion of Balance to seem anything other than united.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Morale 6
Reputation 5

Greetings,

I am quite pleased to hear that you have publicly denounced the Brotherhood of Sin.

Once more, I understand your frustration. That said, we are not a mercenary company such as yourself; we offered our aid in striking at the Brotherhood directly. Our resources must go towards serving the greater good of Hanrui as a whole, or enhancing our own capacity with which to do so.

I believe there is a compromise here, however. I would have you word that you will eventually contribute to the permanent destruction of the Brotherhood of Sin. It is likely that you would do so regardless, but in order to placate the Council I must assure them that the training we provide will be used to eliminate a great evil.

Respectfully,

Yonren, Twelfth Speaker

The Astral Collective wants you to be involved in the destruction of the Brotherhood of Sin. Essentially, they want you to commit that you won’t end up sitting back and working out neutrality and that you will eventually participate in crushing the devils. With that caveat, the deal stands – 10 ESP this turn for your use, and then for the next five turns (not counting this one) you provide us with 2 ESP per turn. Because I really don’t get a mechanical benefit out of this if I’m not directly hitting an eventual target for destruction.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Church of the Truth Speaker

A messenger arrived again, this time somebody other than Nebtise.

“Greetings, I am Satahshu, from the Theocracy of Shemesh. The Church of the Truth Speaker made the price for their assistance clear as day. The Theocracy of Shemesh cannot meet that price, nor can treasure, thus making the the offer, money in exchange for prayer, to be futile to make to the Church. of the Truth Speaker”

“Just as clear as day is it to everybody that there is no united front against the Legion of Balance. The insult of the Angel of the Church of the Truth Speaker was loud enough for all to know.”

“We all walk in the Light of Shemesh, even if you refuse to see.”

Public message to all, except the Legion of Balance, Fungal Combine, the Brotherhood of Sin and Church of the Truth Speaker

The Theocracy of Shemesh currently acknowledges as highest bid for its [2 Economy]:

[2 Morale]

Public message to the Legion of Balance

Djehu stood before the Paladin of the Legion of Balance, his jaw wide open in what was happening before him. It takes him a while to gather his wits again, which he does so by praying to Shemesh.

“Have your armies beaten nations in the past to acquire their powers for the armies?”

Djehu again draws a prayer to Shemesh, before continuing.

“If the Legion of Balances does not use the Darkness, forsakes it use, to use another force, such as the destructive forces of fire, I can make you an offer on behalf of the Theocracy of Shemesh. Do not attack the Theocracy of Shemesh, and the Theocracy will cooperate to attack a nation the Legion of Balance deems “Good”. That way, the Legion of Balance will have more forces to bring Balance, and we as neighbours do not need to war.”

Public message to Silvermist

A messenger arrives. “Greetings, I am Hysenmer, from the Theocracy of Shemesh. From the far off deserts, I have come to offer gratitude for the kind words of Silvermist towards the Theocracy of Shemesh.

Thank you.”

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Reputation 6*

The message rings out, clear as a bell, from the centre of Shemesh. The Zenith - for no other force on Hanrui could send a psionic message this way - sends its words ricocheting through minds, spreading outward until it has touched the minds of all in the capital.

OUR DISAPPOINTMENT IS INNUMERABLE. THAT YOU WOULD SO EASILY SACRIFICE ANOTHER NATION THAT FIGHTS FOR GOOD TO AVOID BLOODYING YOUR HANDS IS REPREHENSIBLE. IT SEEMS AS THOUGH SHEMESH IS EASILY SWAYED BY APPEARANCES, AND NOT TRUE COMMITMENT TO GOOD OR EVIL. YOU WILL FIND NO ALLIES IN THE ASTRAL COLLECTIVE.




Greetings, Chemosh.

I write to you of two matters. First, we are glad that you were able to procure economic aid from elsewhere. Your actions in the past season have shown that you are able to work for the forces of Good, if nothing else.

Secondly, while an alliance is out of the question, perhaps there will be opportunities for collaboration in future seasons.

Respectfully,

Yonren, Twelfth Speaker of the Astral Collective


*Because I apparently can't keep track of my own stats

[Zweanslord]

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/RadiantSymbol.jpg

Theocracy of Shemesh

Behold the Light
Bask in Heat

Be Radiant
Be Luminous

We are Bright
We are Illuminated

Look at the Light
See Shemesh

The center of the Theocracy of Shemesh is naturally Medju, Capital of Light. Something was happening! All throughout the city, the people clasped their ears, until they realised they were not hearing sound. Some screamed in surprise, especially children, others writhed in seeming pain, as if pushing out whatever befell them. A number of those meditating or praying, remained calm, keeping to their meditation or prayer. Those in rituals and ceremonies reacted varied. There were those who diligently continued, not letting themselves be disrupted, while others faltered, with some returning to it and others finishing it up to seek out their beloved.

Many faithful, ever so many faithful, stood, looked up and offered their prayers to Shemesh.


Behold the Light
Bask in Heat

Be Radiant
Be Luminous

We are Bright
We are Illuminated

Look at the Light
See Shemesh

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

"What I wouldn't give for some good old fashioned Chronomancy."

Looking back over my letters I see that all of my grievances could have been avoided had a few letters arrived in a different order. We would have informed you of our press of attack with the backing of the Astral Collective. Who have reminded me of reason. We would both have more resources to press forward with and my ever dwindling supply of the Halfling flower would have much greater quantity. I look forward to a time when we will have a more solid foundation and understanding between us.

To the Theocracy of Shemesh. "We can only speak what we see. The mist might cloud our vision, but your actions burn bright. While you are here though, could we perhaps work out an arrangement? With all of our recent endeavors, we were wondering if instead of economic backing, if you could happen to lend military aid in exchange for more of our minstrels? We could do so much as pay double for each regiment." ((ooc))I can go as high as 4 mor for 2 Mil((ooc))

I will bring ruin to the Brotherhood of Sin in my actions. I have tried from the beginning to not sit idly by and to rally others to action. I apologize for my failures. If your words had reached my ears a moment sooner, I feel that a combined effort between myself and the Free Cities would be underway at this very moment. That is my fault. I look forward to striking the Brotherhood of Sin with your help.

The deal is too good to turn down. If it is an acceptable trade, we will grant you one of our adventuring companies permanently in exchange for the use of your military this season.

We have limited resources left for trade this turn, but if it is possible, we would like to work out a trade for 3 Mil.

[Hamste]

City of Wraiths Morale 7


Please be careful with you pacts with the Pillar of Wisdom. We are currently in a pseudo war with them due to them trying to cripple our economy and their weird belief that certain races are intrinsically evil. While nothing is wrong with you being in a non-aggression pact with them, please be aware any aid or trade you give either them or us will now break a non-aggression until this resolves itself.




We understand, if you ever do want us to attack someone who isn't directly allied with us or in the non-aggression pact just send us an offer. We are targeting mostly the evil in the world like slavers and racists but if you have a good reason then we are glad to help. We would definitely be willing to look at dealing with the Brotherhood once those that attacked my lands are dealt with.



One day, hopefully you will see the benefits of an alliance, but working together is still a great step forward. Maybe after we work together for awhile, you will be more willing.

[GameOfChampions]

Legion of Balance
Public

The women raises an eyebrow at the pilgrim and answers tightly "Watch yourself Pilgrim, we do not fight for power. We fight for a higher power, Balance. We do not stoop to target nations for such a mere mortal concern such as power. We have fought all over the world against all manner of beings, when one legion falls another is sent. We have not lost a Legion since the fall of Askendor four centuries ago and this Legion does not plan to start."

The Paladin stops for a second and stares at the Pilgrim after his proposal, waiting almost a minute before she calls for a messenger stone. The Paladin sequesters herself for a solid hour before emerging again. Having changed to the red fire form she arrives and hands over a long weather proofed page of vellum. "The Legion commanders have consulted and we are willing to make a deal. We have several demands however if you want to make this work.
- The Theocracy of Shemesh will declare war against any nations that the Legion wars with until the great change, including any the Legion is currently at war with.
- The Theocracy of Shemesh will cede Crystal Spires of Zawty (Territory 18) to the Legion along with the related resources (standard territory loss rules).
- The Theocracy of Shemesh will allow the Legion to travel through its lands to gain access to the sea and build a single sea route to a target of our choice.
- Finally the Theocracy of Shemesh must better themselves, hold themselves up as paragons of balance and neutrality (Raise your Rep to 5 in the next 3 Turns)

Fall of Balam and Rise of the Templars

The cape with Balam has come to chaos. With the targeted strikes the small city state came to ruin, the outer regions furthest from the main city ceding under the rule of several brutal taskmasters with their dark magics and broken slaves. The new territory set to making their new lands secure, at the cost of their slaves. They ended up calling on their slave corps and the dark magics of their slave masters to finish their projects.

While the new ceded lands of New Balam were running ragged trying to prepare their new home the original city was in ruins. After the raids slaves were rioting in the streets, powerful witch-priests attempting to seize power, and insurgents sowing discord. The final straw was the Kraken that briefly appeared looking for food. The powerful beast destroyed the docks and shipping warehouses, hundreds of slaves and citizens were consumed. Slaves, citizens, and powerful leaders fled. They formed small groups in the lands around the city, fading from the powerful city state to a small group of weakened individuals fighting for power.

All the various break off groups needed something, something greater then they were. Then... it arrived. One day various scouts and starving slaves spotted a massive fleet coming on the horizon. A massive fleet that seemed to be crewed by powerful well trained vulture people flying the standards of an order of Templars.

Maybe these peoples would be the thing to change the shape of Hanrui...

New player is now in. LordAthos and the Templars of Our Burning Savior

[Zweanslord]

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/TerritoryNames.png

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Legion of Balance

“My apologies, I meant no offense.” Djehu offered as the Paladin answered tightly, before sequestering for a solid hour.

When the Paladin returns, Djehu listens closely. He talks a short bit with the Paladin to ensure they are on the same page about territory, as it might be a source of confusion. (See above picture for territory names.) Territory 18 is Resplendent Kalon, with the Crystal Spires of Zawty much closer to the coast (Territory 2). Afterwards, he acknowledges he understood the terms. “I will return to the Theocracy of Shemesh to relay these demands. I will be back soon.” Taking the weather proofed page of vellum along, he moves back over the Legion of Balance - Theocracy of Shemesh border.

A few days later, he returns once more. “Greetings again. The Theocracy of Shemesh agrees to three of the demands, but has another proposal for one of them. Instead of ceding Resplendent Kalon, the Theocracy of Shemesh offers to fully assist the Legion of Balance to expand to Permedj Beach (Territory 55), as long as this is not used to expand to the Plateau of Seba (Territory 3). This makes the terms as follows:

- The Theocracy of Shemesh will declare war against any nations that the Legion wars with until the great change, including any the Legion is currently at war with.
- The Theocracy of Shemesh will fully assist the Legion of Balance to expand to Permedj beach (Territory 55) this season. (Turn 2 the Theocracy of Shemesh will invest all stats required for the Legion of Balance to expand to Territory 55.)
- The Legion of Balance will not expand to the Plateau of Seba (Territory 3).
- The Theocracy of Shemesh will allow the Legion to travel through its lands to gain access to and from Permedj Beach and thus, the sea.
- Finally the Theocracy of Shemesh will cast Light on the path to balance and neutrality and be a bright beacon towards it (Raise their Rep to 5 in the next 3 Turns [Turn 3, 4, 5])

Is this agreeable?”

Public message to all, except the Legion of Balance, Fungal Combine, the Brotherhood of Sin and Church of the Truth Speaker

The Theocracy of Shemesh currently acknowledges as highest bid for its [2 Economy]:

[2 Morale]

(OOC: Bidding ends in 20 minutes from this post.)

EDIT!

Public message to the Free City of Khasal

A caravan, loaded with treasure, departs from Medju, Capital of Light, in the Theocracy of Shemesh, heading towards the Free City of Khasal. Speeding ahead is a messenger.

“Atena, the Theocracy of Shemesh accepts your bid! The treasure is being sent and the offered street performers, illusionists and public entertainers are welcome in the Theocracy of Shemesh!”

(OOC: Bidding ended! The Free City of Khasal won the bid. The Theocracy of Shemesh sends 2 Economy in exchange for 2 Morale from the Free City of Khasal.)

[GameOfChampions]

Legion of Balance
Public

"It is not agreeable. It is our deal with Resplendent Kalon or nothing. Do not mistake us pilgrim. We are not here to act as a shield against those you fear, positioned to guard against any who would attack Shemesh."

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 6
Reputation 6

Dearest Voices of the Truth,

You have our confidence when it comes to matters of international import. We count your Church among our allies on Hanrui. As such, we have absolutely no trouble with your stepping in to help alleviate the situation between our negotiators and those of Silvermist. As our expeditionary fleet has already set sail for the shores of the Free City of Khasal, I have had to personally step in to cool off matters somewhat. Your own aid towards the adventurers was greatly appreciated as a balm to soothe tensions. As such, the Ironfang Republic thanks you for your contributions.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic
Dearest adventurers,

As General Azaersi has already set sail, I find myself now in contact with you as an intermediary. Having read through the past correspondence, allow me to apologize once more on behalf of the Republic for any inconvenience we may have caused you. As things stand now, the bid from the Free City of Khasal stands as more preferable for us at this time, so we will be sticking with them this season. That being said, our non-aggression pact stands all the same. We understand that you are in a particularly difficult spot, with the Brotherhood of Sin on your very doorstep. To that end, we have permitted the Church of the Truth Speaker to stand in and make their own offer to you as way of consolation. We hope that can be enough to remedy any hurt feelings about our deal falling through.

One final piece of advice, given in the spirit of cooperation: you have friends on Hanrui, if not necessarily on your own continent of Kyrsull. The Republic, the Holds of Khazn Durn, the Church of the Truth Speaker, and the Astral Collective are all watching your situation with interest. Several of us have gotten into contact with you over recent months. Rest assured that the nations of Rivaness have your best interests at heart, and will help you if we can. In the following season, you may have cause to reach out to all or any of us again. I would encourage you to do so.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic
If preferable, I would like as much ADV sent this turn as possible - if you can only send 2 ADV, that's fine with me and I will make do. Ideally, you would send over 3 REP, 2 ECO, and 2 ADV in exchange for my 5 MIL, 1 ADV, and 1 MAG. That would be an even trade, I think.
Dear Lady Darkseeker,

Your words have been received across the Republic. Many of us goblins question the nature of good and evil, and wonder if they are perhaps words on a page instead of metaphysical concepts to be battled. That being said, our actions should speak more to neutrality than any opposite end. You say that the Ironfangs jumped to create a peace summit. This is surely true, and I was personally the architect of the gathering. However, just as many 'evil' nations arrived as 'good' ones, and the final result was neither conflict nor alliance but rather a nebulous agreement for the nations not to interfere with each other. Balance - insofar as it exists - was attained. I would argue that the summit has done as much to counteract the forces of light and darkness in this realm than your swords.

The Republic wants to bring peace and prosperity to Hanrui. We have been open about our aims since we arrived. However, the means of doing so involve regulating the actions of all nations - good and evil - and binding them to a course that sees everyone suffer and prosper in equal measure. Given such end and means, how can you say that the goblin people are not champions of balance as well?

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic

I see your argument, and raise you: Lawful Neutral!
Dearest Magister of Jade,

Your amenability to our initial terms has been met with smiles here in Oprak. Our nation wishes nothing but peace and harmony across Hanrui, and yet your missive was among the more civil to reach our ears. The Republic plans to uphold our end of the bargain we have struck with you by promising that we will not take up arms against your polity, nor will we aid those who plan on doing so.

As far as your second request goes... we are unsure as to the nature of the experiments you plan on doing on the bodies of our dead, but the burial rituals of the goblin people are considered by many clans and tribes here in the Republic to be sacrosanct. How we treat our dead is what separates us from the animals, dear mage. We may be able to send over the bodies of a few who have died dishonorably or whose clans do not care about their remains, but such a deal would have to come with strict conditions. Furthermore, our various resources are all currently in use, so any dealings we make would have to be in the future.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic

We can maybe make a deal... but not this turn, as our resources are all tied up. We will see whether favorable terms arise in the next season.
Dear tenebrous and insubstantial wraiths,

Rest assured, our dealings with the Jade Wizard and his Pillar of Wisdom are not the makings of an alliance of any sort. The Republic has a vested interest in treating all of those we see as nations equally and fairly, which means that our agreements of non-aggression and non-interference have been extended to many polities and principalities across Hanrui. We value your input and your beliefs, and wish you no harm whatsoever.

That being said, any dealings we make with the wizards independently of your nation is the business of the Ironfang Republic. Currently, they wish for us to send them dead bodies, an enterprise which does not exactly enthuse many of our elders. Many of our clans have been used and manipulated by evil wizards in the past. However, if we were to take up the Pillar on their promise in exchange for fair compensation, such a trade should not constitute a breach of our existing deal. The same is true of any deals that we might make with your kingdom. If you do not agree with this interpretation of our agreement, please write me back personally at Oprak at your earliest convenience, and we will see what arrangement our two factions can come to.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic

[Zweanslord]

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/RadianterSymbol.jpg
Source: http://sourcecreations.net/

Theocracy of Shemesh

The Light Blinds
The Heat Burns
Blazing Rays
Scorching Waves

Wings envelop
Sand raises
Shemesh protects
All in the Light

Public message to the Legion of Balance

No.

Shemesh protects.

We will defend Resplendent Kalon with our lives.

May you once see the Light of Shemesh as we do.

Djehu leaves.

Public message to the Astral Collective

A female messenger arrives. “Greetings. I am Senefer from the Theocracy of Shemesh. I politely ask the Astral Collective to send a normal messenger when they have a message for the Theocracy of Shemesh, instead of whatever it was what happened in Medju, Capital of Light.”

Public message to Silvermist

Hysenmer looks pleased with the words offered by the gnome of Silvermist. When suggesting an arrangement, he listens. He informs the one he is conversing with that he would need to ask at home, and leaves.

After a long journey back and forth, Hysenmer returns, with much haste.

“The Theocracy of Shemesh accepts your arrangement.”

Hysenmer then kneels down and clasps his hands together, begging:

“Please, I beg of you, send as many of your minstrels as you can, for the situation of the Theocracy of Shemesh is most dire.”

Public message to all, except the Legion of Balance, Fungal Combine, the Brotherhood of Sin and Church of the Truth Speaker

Messengers venture far and wide through Hanrui. They arrive at the each of their destinations and kneel down, their hands clasped to the one who will listen, begging.

Please, I beg of you on behalf of the Theocracy of Shemesh, support us in prayer (Morale) as we stand against the Legion of Balance!

The Theocracy is willing to provide magic (2 Magic) and espionage (3 Espionage) in exchange to the highest bidders, in any combination, as long as the prayer is stronger than what we offer!

(OOC: Offering 2 Magic and 3 Espionage for at least 6 Morale. Bids on part of the stats are accepted, as long as the Morale bid is highered than offered (example: 2 Magic for 3 Morale). The Theocracy of Shemesh will accept the most lucrative combination of bids from any of the factions. Bid ends in 5 hours from when this post was made (which is 4.5 hours from when this edit was made.))

[Janwin]

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn

With the King away on matters of foreign affairs, Forgemaster Kargrin Firehammer tends to the affairs of the state on matters of trade. The season grows late, but he still does his duty and sends out missives to those whom seek to trade.

Greetings to the adventurers of Silvermist,

We have conducted an audit of our available resources and, while it would involve considerable shifting of resources internally to provide it, we can allocate dwarven strategists, siege engineers and a shipload of arms and armor to Silvermist before the new season.

We are willing to accept payment for these services and resources in any valuable trade goods you have uncovered within your territory.

If these terms are agreeable, we will set sail immediately upon acceptance.

In Service,
Forgemaster Kargrin Firehammer

((OOC: Proposing 3 MIL in exchange for 2 ECO and 2 REP.))

To the Theocracy of Shemesh,

Though we cannot provide the requested support, I feel the need to offer some advice out of compassion for your current plight in regards to the manner and conduct of trade.

When one is in an unfavorable situation, that weighs against them in regards to the value of services, resources and goods. Your most recent request is one in which you beg other nations to aid you, and then offer less value for the requested services than they are worth. Normally, when one truly wants an exchange to happen, they would offer more than the base value of what they desire--even if it is in promise of future payment.

It is not hidden to the other nations that you are in an unfavorable situation, and thus any could see that the value of prayer is higher to you than what you offer particularly in light of the threat on your border.

I wish you luck in your trade, though all of our economical advisers believe it unlikely to see fruit. We recommend an amendment in which you offer a more favorable future payment structure, in the hopes that such might bring you what you require.

Perhaps in future seasons we will be able to offer better assistance than simple advice.

In Service,
Forgemaster Kargrin Firehammer

[Writtensanity]

https://screenshot.click/03-02-q0e5a-2jaea.jpg

Around the lands of Shemesh, angels had been sitting perched on high spires and rooftops, listening to the news coming from their Legion of Balance. The offer of kinship, the term of the Legion, then the final rejection. Once the messengers came with news of the rejection, the angels slowly left the spires until there were only a small handful watching in the moonlight.

Once a group of priests is exits the church for the night, the angels drop down from the roof in front of them, the leader of the Angels, Grand Speaker Dawn speaks at the priests rather than to them.

"Your offer to the Legion has made it clear that you wish to bask in the name of good rather than defend its many forms. You may have rejected their terms, but your offer of war against the Church and all the good nations of Hanrui will not be forgotten simply because it didn't benefit you enough."

Dawn flexes her wings, showing the almost 14 foot wingspan that she needs to carry herself and her armor. "We are common foes of the Legion of Balance, but unfortunately you have made it clear that they made a mistake considering you one of their main representatives on the side of good. We are open to co-ordinate but we cannot consider you friends until you have atoned for your choices. "

The angel turns to leave and then holds out a small scroll, "This is for your archpreistess."




The Legion of Balance is going to be disrupted by the Church in two weeks. You will witness the power of the Voice.

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

We were unaware that anything more than a simple term of non aggression had come out of the Ironfang meeting. As there is nothing offered to hold anyone to the terms of the non aggression treaty, we see it as a facade. If alliances were formed, we are sore for our missing them. Our tone would be greatly different in times of turmoil if we had any foundation to understand others through. We do hope that you're necromancers will be here to guide us. We can try it ourselves, but it's my understanding that we will only get one shot at this. ((ooc))That last part is just playing into the fluff.((ooc))

For your part, we did see the gesture to try and create a more binding agreement. We felt that the rejection of your investment by every other party besides us was a tail tell sign that the non-aggression agreement meant as much as they were putting in. As for the recent events, I hope our position is understandable. We will carry no will ill once the seasons change and we've gotten some time to get over it. Till we meet again in meeting or through letter.

And so we shall.

We look forward to seeing your armaments and engineers. It's been a while since i've seen Mountain Dwarves. Do send some ale as well. Our ships are loading up now.

[Hamste]

Morale 7 City of Wraiths


Dear Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued

Anything you give or trade them will attack us or will be used to free up resources to attack us. That is pretty clearly a breach of the non-aggression pact, in the same way that if I had taken Silvermist's offer to give them spies to harm Khasal for money I would be in breach. If you didn't know and it wasn't obvious, it wouldn't be as that would be an unfair standard, but I am quite clearly telling you what will happen. Any aid you give one of us of any type, will actively hurt the other person and would be a covert attack against them. Even giving something to keep either of us from collapsing can be seen as a covert attack if we don't end the pseudo war, as that would be prolonging the war to harm the other person. The rules were clear, no harmful action against another person in the non-aggression pact and it was stated that was any action not just military.

A body probably doesn't matter seeing the Pillar aren't necromancers that we know of and it isn't inherently magical but more concrete trades with either of us have to be carefully considered until a peace is achieved.

Thank you for your time,
Vizier Salazar

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to all, except the Legion of Balance, Fungal Combine, the Brotherhood of Sin and Church of the Truth Speaker

The trade offer by Theocracy of Shemesh has expired. No bids were made.

Public message to the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn

A male messenger arrives. “Greetings. I am Senmose, from the Theocracy of Shemesh. Please extend our gratitude to Forgemaster Kargrin Firehammer, for his advice on matters of trade!

There was desperate hope there is somebody who would see more value in what is offered than what is asked, or was kind enough to hear our plea and offer aid in such a trade. As the Forgemaster predicted, this did not happen.

The advice to offer something in the future for help now is being prayed upon and there is hope it may lead to wisdom in the time to come. Thank you, once more.”

Public message to the Church of the Truth Speaker

“AAAH! The guardian spirits have come!” A rallying cry as many devout flock to the call, looking around for any danger that is besetting them. Many similar occurrences happen if and when angels from the Church of the Truth Speaker are spotted. Without them making a special attempt, this is likely, as many of the faithful often look at the skies during prayer, which they do a lot.

The people of the Theocracy of Shemesh do not regard the angels as dangerous, but instead assume there is danger around when they see them. Once it becomes apparent there is no threat of invasion, sieges, massive armies encroaching upon their lands, they try to hail the angels and ask what danger lurks about, how they can help, and what they can do, if the angels let the followers of Shemesh near them at all.

One group of priests does see angels drop nearby. Several of them immediately react concerned as if there is danger about, with a few hailing them as spirit guardians. When Grand Speaker Dawn speaks up, one of the priests quickly informs the others that this is an angel from the Church of the Truth Speaker, and their attitude changes. Several look curious, others reverent and a few still look about for danger, though this time include the angels.

When Dawn holds out the small scroll, a priestess takes it, while the priest that informed the others that this angel is from the church, shouts one word loudly and harshly, his anger showing.


“LIAR!”
“One of your angels told Archpriestess Akharet that we have to renounce Shemesh for you to aid us! You have no intention to coordinate with us! Your atonement would have us renounce Shemesh! With such demands, you cast no light on the path to friendship!”

The priest takes a deep breath, before continuing.

“The Theocracy of Shemesh does not wish to go to war against the Church of the Truth Speaker, and would deeply regret to go to do so. In the Light of Shemesh we seek no war, though it has found us. By striking a deal with the Legion of Balance, the greatest use of Darkness could be banished from Hanrui! Yet their terms are too dark to consider further.”

The priest kneels down, as do the other priests, with more looking reverent to the angels.

“I offer my apologies for what has transpired, guardian spirit. A light was attempted to be lit on a path that wanted only darkness, and we should have known. My brothers and sisters united by rays of Shemesh, together, we are desperate. We heard we could not count on the Church of the Truth Speaker to assist or cooperate with the Theocracy of Shemesh against the Legion of Balance, as Grand Voice Khal wrote this is not the season for action. While the Theocracy of Shemesh has found worthwhile traders in Hanrui, our people in Medju, Capital of Light, have been assaulted by some kind of magic speaking of a far away land and how they are disappointed and would not ally. We have no friends but our faithful and we must protect them. We take up the Light of Shemesh to try and find a way through Darkness.”

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg

Christening

Simple farmers toiling in the fields were the first to spot them. Red sails - many of them. An almost uncountable number, spanning the horizon.

It was a massive fleet, headed directly towards them, and they were under the blood-red sails of the Templars. As servants of the sorcerer lord of Shar'baoth, they knew what it meant, and they ran.

‐----------------------------------------------

The High Master hadn't expected an easy landing, and he had turned out to be right.
Those sorcerers grew more fierce the more desperate their situation was, and that was as true here as back in Anta'dur. He could see regiments of militia, thrown together hastily from many different species - humans, orcs, Dark elves - bearing nothing but leather armour and spears, standing with obvious unease next to grotesque summoned beasts.
Those weren't the problem, though.

The High Master looked next to him, to the priestess clad in a golden breastplate, her red robes flowing in the wind, as a blue ball of conjured energy shattered on the field of magical fire she had held up in Our Saviour's name.
A small stream of blood flowed down her beak.

The true sorcerers of the colony had assembled very quickly, and bombarded them without pause ever since. The Clerics' magic had prevented them from doing any true harm, for now. His grip tightened around his golden scimitar. The coast couldn't come soon enough, though.

"CENTER FLAME, COMMENCE HALF BROADSIDES!" finally came the order from the Grand Admiral, being communicated from ship to ship with small yellow flags. The High Master nodded towards the Grand Admiral, who touched the tip of his red bicorne in respect.

They could reach them, finally.
The center of the Templar's fleet changed course slightly, and with a
"FIRE!" the Oracai's siege throwers, a magically and alchemically imbued ballista-like weapon, opened fire from dozens of ships, devastating the coastline with balls of brightly glowing fire.

The citizens' militia broke, immediately - the screams of burning people, masses of them, flailing about, unearthly sounds when the summoned creatures died, taking part of the mind of their summoners with them, who collapsed with blood streaming from their eyes.

An army of small ships were let down from the Templar fleet, each with their own red sail bearing the Symbol of Our Golden Saviour, and the High Master was one of the first to board. Still protected by the Clerics with defensive domes of fire against the magic attacks of the sorcerers, that had grown less numerous, and against the rain of arrows from militia units that the sorcerers had been able to regroup. The High Master saw one of the ships near him burst in a blast of deep red energy, then another. The Clerics were exhausted. A lucky arrow struck his shoulder plate, then another got stuck in his shield.

But at that point, the small ships aready ran aground on the beach.

"GLORY TO THE FLAME! his voice rose above the noise of war, the desperate screams of the dying, and was joined by hundreds of voices of his fellow templars as they charged up at the crumbling enemy lines.

It was a massacre. The militia with their spears, men, orcs and elves with fear in their eyes, were simply swept away by the wave of Templar steel and fury their line bloodily smashed down and left in ruins of broken corpses. The Knights then went hunting for sorcerers, or to help their comrades surrounding the summoned creatures who resisted fearlessly, though many blinked out of existence as their masters died.
By now, sariants had taken up position on the beach, firing with their crossbows at every mage they could set their sights on.

The battle had been decided shortly after the Faithful of Our Burning Saviour had landed. Some Templars lay dead, but it had been a one-sided battle, like leading an animal to slaughter. The cursed lands of Hanrui would surely test them with more challenging battles soon, the High Master knew, as he regarded the battlefield in his blood-splattered golden armour.

The banner of the Templars was flown from the highest building of the village, as the last sorcerer of the immediate area has been hunted down and executed.
As a huge pyre of celebration was lit in the townsquare, the gathered fleet unloaded vast amounts of materials, slaves and soldiers onto the mainland.

The Templars had made landfall, and soon, the whole region was under their control. The Crusader State had been established, and the Templars ready to take their next step.

[GameOfChampions]

Turn 3

"War's one of those things, don't you think, where everyone always thinks they're in the right have you noticed that? Nobody ever says we're the bad guys, we're going to beat **** out of the good guys." – Caryl Churchill.

The burning summer gives way to the cool winds of Autumn. The cool winds turn into a horrible cold as the winds of winter sweep over Hanrui, making survival questionable as wars close and others eye their neighbors.


Open to Change

Those few towns, villages, tribes, and small cities that have not been brought into the fold of any of these growing nations are begging to join. They see the world shrinking around them and they want the protection afforded to them by the powerful. Feared and loathed some nations may be it is still better than being ground down between the fights of the powerful.

Whether it be welcoming those installing a new figurehead, military occupations, joining a nation by dint of connections and influence, or powerful magics bringing them in. The limits have been lowered.

Cost to invade a neutral territory is 1 less for both attrition and non attrition costs.


Training in the Agoge

Yaethor stops his lecturing to snap his quarterstaff over the unfortunate teens back, he had been falling behind in the power of his strikes so he deserved a strike. Not hard enough to break anything but enough to leave a hard bruise for several days, maybe making him pass blood tonight.

“Strike like you need to break through armor! Strike like the lives of your people depend on it! Strike for the Daitoii!”

This new class was falling behind, they were supposed to be able to at least contend with the graduates by now. Not beat them of course but at least put up a fight. If they didn’t pick up the pace then they would die during the graduation ceremony. It was time for some of the more serious training, they would visit the home of their horrors and the bane of their town. The Forest of the Undying.

Territory 4 gains 2 Mil for whoever takes it.


Expansion

The summer was the time for expansion. Nations have spread like a wildfire; leveraging their reputation to gain influence over the isolated, marching armies in to occupy, using magical power to impress and confuse.

The continent of Kyrsull is being devoured slowly but surely. The Fungal Combine continues its slow but unstoppable expansion throughout the world. The Templars have spread their crusade to more unbelievers. On one side the Theocracy and Legion slowly duke it out, and on the other the Brotherhood, Silvermist, and Khasal are viciously scrapping.

On Rivaness the lack of war has seen the continual rapid expansion of its nations. The Ironfang Republic have spread to the coastal island on the west side of the continent. The Dwarf Hold manages to bring in another mountain bordered territory to their nation. The Church of the Truth Speaker sends their clerics and faithful forth to spread the word of the Voice. Finally the Astral Collective spreads to take the new magical town for their own good, bringing them into the fold.


Sins of the Betrayed

Izoran dragged his axe along the rock wall as he walked along the trail of the mountain path, an armored zombie tripped behind him and fell off as it kept trying to walk. Breaking apart as it hit the ground. He grinned as he saw the zombie fall, good thing he had hundreds of those basic things. His legion devils managed to get across without an issue and the adventurous troops from Silvermist were practically trained to fight in non standard environments.

It took several hours, hours Izoran spent feeling chained and pent up. He had to wait for the Silvermist agents to take out the Ironfang scouts in the area before they could move in. He was hungry for it and his subordinates could tell. After he bisected a zombie that got in the way of his pacing they decided to leave him alone.

Then the call came, they were ready. He could finally come to life again, chained by the lack of war and the requirements of running a nation. Izoran the Unchained was ready to let loose and the goblins were not prepared. The hulking seven foot tall eight hundred pound monster hit the barely formed goblin lines like an unstoppable wrecking ball. Khasal troops streamed out of the city to try and reinforce but it was too late, a horde of devils and undead hit the unprepared city like a brick. Silvermist troops hit strategic locations, taking them before the Kasal army could get there.

When dawn came the city had lost two thirds of its population from either evacuation, when the Khasal army had got its stuff together and started the evacuation, or from being murdered by the invaders. The rest were now under the thumb of the Brotherhood.


Kraken Yeeting

As the Legion marches to war they are left mostly undefended, though no one was prepared for what happened. The large oasis outside of the main legion fortress was being used for regular caravan traffic and for water transport. Then suddenly a large white light fills the oasis, a glowing figure fills the water and the glow intensifies before erupting into a kraken. The savvy spy corps are able to track that the massive kraken that had been rampaging along the coastal regions of Silvermist had also dissapeared about the same time the one in the middle of the desert appeared.

All shall fear the mighty desert kraken!


Balance of War

The Legion has sent its warnings, attempted its diplomacy, and is now deploying its Legions. Twelve hundred well armed soldiers covered in black half plate bearing polearms with shortswords strapped to their waist. Half a dozen companies of Paladins march in front, their armors thicker and their weapons deadlier while bearing dark magics to counter the light spells of the Theocracy.

Paladin Commander Ji’Van is sent with three hundred soldiers and her company of Paladins to take the eastern most towns of the Resplendent Kalon. She leads her paladins to the temple as her soldiers take down the town guard and zealots that are popping up throughout lands. Ji’Van gathers her top Paladins, elite experienced crusaders that had survived a dozen wars. Their eyes suck in the light, destroying it as they channel their weapons to gather the darkness and shatter the wards over the temple. Giving the signal the rest of her unit storms in, slaying the clerics and pilgrims to the last.

She had experienced the change a dozen times already, both sides of the Legion experienced this when they started the crusade. It was different then changing into already settled forms, the way she had flipped through half a dozen ones a few weeks ago had been easy. The Paladin commander glanced down at the Pilgrim she had impaled on the bottom of her halberd, he had deserved her personal attention. It was the least she could do, he had been an interesting man to talk to and despite the deal not working she had enjoyed discussing the intricacies of the Legion with him.

It was appropriate that the change was happening now, she had impaled him on the sign of Shemesh that he loved so much. He had hated the darkness they wore like a brand, it had influenced her. She explored that, feeling herself falling deeper into the darkness. She felt a darkness, it was similar to the basic darkness of the evil that the Legion was fighting for but… deeper, darker, something that was more than just the absence of light but something that had never seen light. She opened her eyes and suddenly the light started to be sucked in, the light in the room went down several levels. Her armor seemed more like the red dragon armor but more shadow dragon, black scales and clawed gauntlets. She breathed a bit and several wisps of shadow came out.

She knelt down to pray to the Lady of Balance as she listened to the sounds of Balance being enforced by her Paladins. Several minutes later she looked to see her unit gathered around her, covered in variations of blood and sand but one and all looking like her and ready to fight, “Hail the Lady Saladrahal and ready for the fight for Balance.”

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg

Our Saviour's Blessing

The High Priestess Vestis of House Ionlar walked amongst the faithful, on the city square. She had no eyes for the busy lives of the Oracai and slaves who passed by, against whom a troop of 13 Sariant Halberdiers stood guard around her. No, her eyes laid firmly on the west of the square, where a great building stood, towering over the adjacent townhouses. It was built fully from the dark granite of the west, with arabesque carvings around its pillars, high, jagged towers and a great dome of stained glass in the center, with intricately formed pieces of yellow and orange glass depicting the flames of Our Saviour. She was most happy with her work.

This was the newly-built and recently finished Temple of Our Burning Saviour on cursed Hanrui, and unsurprisingly, it was heavily guarded by more Sariant brothers and sisters. The thought that this magnificent building was not built to be a center of faith forever, would be abandonend once their mission was complete, caused a sudden sting in her heart. Lightly lowering her beak in humility, she started walking serenely towards the entrance portal.

The floors of the vast entry hall were made from red marble, and at every pillar lining the hall there was a bright torch, illuminating the room with golden light. Numerous statues of saints and other legendary figures from the Holy Scriptures lined the walls as well.

There were giant statues of all the Saints and Martyrs of Cursed Hanrui, each one a shrine to its own.
Grand Master Ectis of House Orondra, in The Cuirass of Faith, heavily ornamented Full Plate armour, Holy Wings of Fire spreading from his back. High Priest Verdeq of her own house, holding the holy trumpet in contemplation. The bizarre spider creature Lord Zin'Thio the Forsaken, breaking a foe with his bare hands. Holy Pyresoul, breathing a great burst of fire in all his glory.

On the ceiling there was a single, vast painting of impressive artistry, depicting an enormous, winged being of blinding light floating above a battlefield - the golden-clad Templars were doing battle with a barbaric force of browns and greens on a desert landscape. Some of the Templars depicted seemed to burst into flames, some taking flight and joining the winged being in the skies as flaming disciples. Their barbaric adversaries were in the process of being slaughtered, those that were facing the blinding light were clutching in pain at their faces, fires blazing out of their eyes.

It was glorious, truly, worthy of Our Saviour, she thought, as she regarded the details of the painting while walking towards the center of the temple, the great glass dome. She stopped right in the middle of it, and looked up. Yellow and orange lights fell onto her from the stained glass above.
She shuddered blissfully.

You truly felt on fire here.

[Writtensanity]

The Artisans for a Dragon’s Horde

The Dwarven Artisans had been hard at work over the past months. Most of the Dwarves had been working in the Fortress for months on a massive ‘main project’; The rest of them had been sent off into the territories around the Church lands in order to lend an expert hand to infrastructure.

Initially the believers had been skeptical of the foreigners in the lands. The Voice told them to be kind but that the Dwarves did not hear her, and that they wouldn’t for now. It put the Dwarves in a strange category, seeing as the Voice didn’t seem to be talking to them at all. 

As the months wore on, the believers and Dwarves worked together. The chorus tried to make the fields and villages of the church feel more like home with warm hearths and heavier ale, and the dwarves brought hundreds of years of mechanical expertise to the lands.

With the dawn of a new season and the first stiff Autumn breeze it was a year to the day that the Fortress of First words had been christened, and the Grand Voices worked with the Dwarves to reveal the new centre piece of the fortress.

Eighty feet high and made of gold and flashing silver. A statue of the voice. A many winged warrior angel with the face of a mother. Her shield raised high to protect her followers and her sword stowed to offer peace. Mirrors around the courtyard focused the light onto her so that she could shine as bright as she seemed in her followers ears.

Between that and the works of infrastructure that had happened around their lands, the people of the church were more united than ever in their place on this new world. Their mission was clear, and now was the time for action!



The Blood Price

When the first scout reports came back of the Salugthrer around Khasal , Dawn ordered for the troops to divert their attention form the Legion of Balance and toward the lands of Silvermist. As the second scouts began reporting that their troops had only been used for training and preparation, only to be left behind once the Silvermist troops marched off to battle she stowed away her blade and took up a pen. Technicalities be damned when it came to future trade, but she wasn’t going to declare war of a deal technically kept.

Though the adventuring company sent to the Church would be brought to the Temple of Dreams to make sure that all of them heard the Voice before the end of the week.



To the Collective Leaders of Silvermist.

Though you held to our agreement, you still used our forces to help fund your war machine, smiling and denouncing the Brotherhood while throwing in with them behind our backs.

In case the name didn’t hint you, the Church of the Voice and Truth Seeker takes the words you say very seriously. Your words and actions are not aligned. We appreciate our interactions in the past, but we can no longer trust that they are truthful.

Your merchants will no longer find a home in the Fortress of First Words.

OOC: The Church of the Truth Speaker has denounced Silvermist and ceased all trade with them.


The letter is delivered to a camp where both nations have soldiers outside of Khasal. The angels who delivers it swiftly arrives by night and leaves the commanders to read. Several more angels arrive to help the refugees of the free city.

To our Friends of the Free City and the Ironfang Republic.

We are sorry for your losses this past season. I don’t believe any of us expected for the Silvermist to throw in with the side of evil over something as petty as a trade dispute that we helped resolve.

I don’t believe that it is any solace to you that our troops were not used in the battle, but it was at least Solace to me to know that we did not hurt any of our friends in battle.

We have ceased trade with the SIlvermist, and would request guidance on your next steps in this conflict. We are here to atone how we can.

Your ever-worried friend,

Grand Voice Khal




Good evening, of whenever this finds you, hopefully daylight. I am grand Voice Jeleva of the Church of the Truth Speaker.

I am sorry to hear of the conflict actively going in within your borders but I must ask, in any of your conflicts have you heard about a Kraken arriving in the Legion of Balance. I have been told not to ask them about its status but I am wondering about the results of my project. A beast like that hearing the Voice is simply fun.

If you haven’t heard anything of it. The Kraken was just some love from The Church to the Legion. More practical than sending troops across the world. If nothing else more impactful.

We shall send more love like that to the Legion if we can find it.

Grand Voice Hybert,


Thank you for your Artisans this past season! The statue turned out wonderfully!

Sending our best ales that we made for them back with them to the stronghold, they are a touch too strong for the average tongue here.

If you have any requests for trade this season we would be happy to field any offers.

Grand Voice Khal




Does anyone else want to host or should I prepare more wine of the coming days?

If yes and you are worried about spies reading your messages. Simply congratulate us on our successful construction project. If you would prefer to host, boast about your own wonderful city.

Grand Voice Khal.

[Zweanslord]

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/knighthorsesdarkartw.jpg
Source: https://wallpapersmug.com/w/download/720x1280/knight-horses-dark-artwork-381b9417221

“NOOO! Not my daughter! Take me, no- HEBEKY!” In desperation, the mother tried to clutch her daughter from the dark knight before her. The walls had shattered, those raised in stone and those raised in faith, darkness marching amongst them. She wept, she wept. “Sheme-eErghurgle” She did not look at the blade that pierced her heart, only to Hebeky, her beloved daughter, lying next to the slain guardian spirit that had protected them to the last. She joined them on the ground, lifeless.

Pilgrim Djehu prayed. In the last Temple to Shemesh in Resplendent Kalon, he looked up at the sky, where dark clouds had gathered and covered the lands. The temple, made of sandstone and with open roof, was warded well, Shemesh protecting those inside. Yet the darkness prevailed against the wards and the walls of the temple became mere sandstone, moments later, Paladin Fortress commander Ji’Vin bursted through the wall, flinging a guardian spirit against the walls, which vanished in brief burst of light, snuffed out by the darkness.

“The Light of Shemesh is everlasting. May you once see the Light of She-” Coughing, blood spilling upon the floor as the light of life left the body, impaled on the halberd. His death was a long agony, his lung punctured, nothing left to say. The Legion of Darkness had beaten the light.

No longer Resplendent Kalon. Now it was Tenebrous Kalon.

The Theocracy of Shemesh wept.

Public message to all, except the Legion of Darkness and the Fungal Combine

The messengers of the Theocracy of Shemesh look more shoddy than ever, hardly kempt, with tears in their clothes unmend during their journey. Their faces look to have both teared too much and baked in the deserts too much.

“Darkness is encroaching upon Hanrui. May all see, as we did, that darkness is horror. The black of despair. The grim shadow, the dark void.”

“Saladrahal seeks no balance, but only her whim of everlasting strife, dread and turmoil. We reveal horror.”

OOC: I am claiming the Legion of Balance has decreased significantly in Reputation.

Public message to the Church of the Truth Seeker

Nebtise drags herself to the Church of the Truth Seeker, worn out by the journey. She mumbles incoherently in prayer and needs a long rest before actually being able to tell her message.

“I.. do not know. We.. maybe it helped. As, as we brought the Light of Shemesh upon them.. to break their preparations. It.. please..”

Nebtise throws herself in kneeling position and begs, grovels and pleads.

“Please! Please.. please do. Help us! Help us! Let anybody help us!”

Public message to the Pillar of Wisdom

A dishoveled male messenger arrives and throws himself at which apprentice or wizard’s representative or whoever will listen.

“I’m Tawadjmu! From Shemesh! Theocracy! Theocracy! Theocracy of Shemesh! HELP! HELP! Darkness will consume us! Help us! Please! Horror! Stop the HORROR!”

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective


YOU WERE GIVEN VERY EXPLICIT ORDERS.

Zeilrae shifted his not-inconsiderable mass, anger surging through him as the chains pulled and chafed against his scales. The small cavern in which he had been imprisoned (at great cost, he thought smugly) had clearly not been designed for a dragon. The stone chamber, which had been pristine when he arrived, was now charred and scorched with dragonfire. No matter how much fire he breathed, however, the stones wouldn’t melt. His only light came from the embers scattered around the room and the purple glowing runes that had proved immune to his flame.

He growled. The indignity. How dare they. He had granted them the privilege of working alongside them, and this is how they treated him?

THE FARMER COULD NOT POSSIBLE HAVE HARMED YOU. HE WAS SCARED. HE ACTED OUT OF PANIC.

Fuming, he snarled out a response. “The gnat fired on me. An insignificant speck like him dared lift arms against the likes of me? Unforgivable.”

Silence. The cowards. Sending their words directly into his mind, instead of coming to see them face-to-face. Oh, let the Council show themselves. He would delight in sinking his claws into their flesh, tearing them limb from limb, devouring their bones.

AND HIS FAMILY? HIS CHILDREN? YOU BURNED THEM TO ASH.

Despite the pain, Zeilrae refused to relent. He would not show weakness.

“They had to be taught a lesson. There are consequences for disrespecting a dragon.”

Again, there was nothing but the ache in his skull.

VERY WELL. WE HAVE LEARNED OUR LESSON. WE HAD SUCH HOPES FOR YOU, ZEILRAE. IT SEEMS AS THOUGH WE GAVE YOU FAR TOO MUCH AUTONOMY. THAT WILL HAVE TO CHANGE.

Zeilrae roared, flame spilling forth from his jaws, straining against the chains that bound him. “I will DESTROY you! When I break free, your precious tetrahedrons will burn! I will bring ruin to this pitiful landmass! I will-”

It was like being struck by lightning. Pain blossomed in his skull, threatening to shatter his mind. It was a barrage of noise and thought and light that would not end. Over it all, Zeilrae could barely make out a single words, repeated, threatening to drown him in its eminence.

-EYOBEYOBEYOBEYOBEYOBEYOBEYOBEYOBEYOBEYOBEYOBEYOB-
__________________________________________________ _____________________________

Some time later, Zeilrae stirred from his slumbed. With a yawn – from a creature his size, it was more of slow roar than anything else – he stretched his wings and pulled himself up off the enormous carpet where he slept. He wandered over to the centre of the aery, where the sky shone through an opening large enough to allow him to enter and depart at will. What a glorious day.

Shaking his head to clear off the grogginess – he must not have slept well – the dragon launched into the air, soaring out of the edifice. The dense jungles of the Astral Collective stretched out before him. Zeilrae felt… contentment. Not a feeling he was used to. These people had shown him nothing but kindness, after all. He would obey their orders. It would be his privilege to fight for them, to make the world a better place.

Messages - Reputation 6

Greetings to my most esteemed colleagues. It would be the Astral Collective’s privilege to host representatives from your nations at Tetrahedron Twelve this autumn. I imagine that there is a great deal for us to discuss.

I look forward to seeing you all.

Yonren, Twelfth Speaker of the Astral Collective
The scroll appears directly in the heart of the Adventurer’s Guild, glowing with a furious magenta energy. It appears as though the effect is purely cosmetic.

You have betrayed our trust and our goodwill. You have willingly aided the forces of the Nine Hells in their conquests. We care not for Khasal, but when we provided you with our tutelage in the ways of subtle influence, it came with a single condition: that you would dedicate yourselves to the eradication of the Brotherhood of Sin. Instead, you have denounced them in public while allying with them in secret. Perhaps you learned our lesson too well.

We digress. You have broken the spirit of our agreement and have proven yourselves to be untrustworthy. We demand that our investment be repaid, effective immediately. Do this, and we will consider the matter settled. Do not, and risk our wrath.

Despite your duplicity, we would still rather settle this as reasonable nation-states. We expect your answer shortly.

The Council of the Astral Collective

The Astral Collective is no longer satisfied with the previous terms of the deal, as you have broken the spirit of the agreement by willingly aiding the Brotherhood of Sin. They are demanding 2 permanent espionage (the points that you generated with their help), to be sent immediately, with no further expectation of temporary espionage in the future.

[Janwin]

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn
Morale: 8
Reputation: 6

Work Continues at Home

King Thurgin Wildhammer sat in his throne room, the first day of court since work had been finished. He surveyed the room, pleased by the intricate stonework of the columns making orderly rows through the center of the large hall, the ornate murals covering the walls forged in precious metals, and the throne itself made from the coveted Kingsteel with golden inlay and forged into a work of art. Finally, the skill, wealth and culture of the dwarves was able to be displayed to any who were invited to the Hold.

The season had been quite busy, and he was glad it was over. Though the future seasons still laid ahead, and such weighed upon his mind. Plans and tactics played out in his mind, but that was a problem for later.

"Durstrim, me boy, how be the preparations?"

"Three companies 'ave been raised from th' land. Th' Forgemaster 'as done a good job o' equippin' 'em, I've trained 'em, an' they be ready t' keep our foes away."

The dwarf king nods satisfiedly. "Good. Our lands be safe, then. An' wha' o' our promises in th' north?"

The Forgemaster steps forward to reply. "Th' engineers 'ave built roads, houses an' fortifications throughout th' northern province as promised t' yer new subjects, me king. All reports 'ave been tha' they be pleased wit' it all, an' are proud t' be part o' the kingdom."

"Excellent. See tha' some barrels o' ale be sent north and plan a celebration for them, then. A good party be good fer the soul."

"Aye, me king. They'll be most 'appy by yer generosity."

"And any word from our engineers and workers sent to the lands o' the Church?"

"Aye, me king. They be on their way home now. Seems their experiences were a bit...weird, but t' their credit the Church be reported t' 'ave done everythin' they could t' make them comfortable an' treated 'em well. The Church 'as sent ye a message o' thanks, as well." The Forgemaster hands the king a scroll, and the King briefly scans it before nodding satisfiedly.

"Good. I 'ad some worry fer the lads with the Church's apparent desire to make all hear their voice...apparently even by force. Seems they be true to their word and be fine friends. And what o' the advisers that be sent to Silvermist?"

The Thane steps forward again, a frown obvious on his face. "Our dwarves did th' job they were 'ired fer. Brought 'em weapons, advised 'em on siege equipment and 'elped them wit' their defensive strategies. Th' report be tha' they didn't see many Silvermist troops while they be there an' doin' the work, which be odd if they be askin' us t' 'elp their army improve. But th' reason became clear with other reports... Silvermist an' th' Brotherhood o' Sin 'ave banded t'gether an' attacked th' Free City o' Khasal. Took a town on th' coast."

The King frowns at the words of his son. "That be explaining why they wanted our troops t' defend their land...so that they could launch an attack without worry. Allying wit' the Brotherhood be a bit further than I expected o' them, and their action made us Dwarves unwittin' accomplices to their evils and the slaughter. An' they attacked the Free City after denouncin' the Brotherhood an' speakin' words o' peace an' hope toward the City." He frowns, and states one of the worst accusations a Dwarf could utter. "Their words be nothin' but wind."

And so, for the first time in this new world, the order is given: "Bring forward th' book."

The great horn of the Dwarf Hold sounds deep and loud, reverberating through the mountain and across the surrounding hills and plains. The echo can be heard for miles as it bounces off the southern mountains and reaches toward the seas. And all dwarves know: an entry has been added to the Book of Grudges.



To Silvermist,

While you honored your agreement with us, it has become clear that your words denouncing the Brotherhood and of hope for a peaceful and prosperous future with the Free City were nothing but wind.

You have shown your will to not be solid like the mountain, but instead to be as fluid as sand. And an attack without a proper, honorable declaration of war is unworthy of any respect.

You shall find no more welcome from the Dwarves, and no more assistance.

Written by one who is willing to speak the truth with honor and stand by his words,
King Thurgin Wildhammer

To Grand Voice Khal,

We are glad that our engineers were able to please you and look forward to someday seeing the statue that was constructed. We've heard nothing but good reports from our engineers, and would like to offer our gratitude with the treatment you provided them.

We look forward to trading with you again, and shall certainly inform you of any requests that we have.

King Thurgin Wildhammer

To our fellow inhabitants of Rivaness,

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn would also be honored to host our next meeting.

King Thurgin Wildhammer

To the Free City,

It seems that the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn were made unwitting accomplices in the attack that recently befell you. We had provided military advisers and equipment to Silvermist per a trade agreement to help them plan defense works and strategy, which appears to have alleviated their own military forces from the need to defend their land and allowed them to attack you unhindered with their newfound allies.

For our part in allowing their dishonorable act without any proper declaration, we apologize.

We are willing to provide whatever assistance we can spare in order to right this wrong and restore our honor from this despicable act.

King Thurgin Wildhammer

[St.Just]

The Free People of Khasal
Reputation 3
All Messages de facto Public

Krikeri was the Architect of Flesh but, as the priests told it, it had once been so much more. The beating heart of a vast and connected world, an unending kingdom of monsters and beasts all governed by the same universal passions. Torn from its throne in the heart of the world and cast into the void by the hosts of Heaven, it was divorced from its former self, needing the hands and hearts of others to feel, their tools and minds to alter what had once been its own quicksilver flesh.

The day of its Festival was normally one of the joyous occasions on the city’s calendar, full of competitions of grace and might, experimentation in flesh and form, and the rejuvenation of the aged and sick. Normally, of course, the City was not a sacked and burnt husk, it’s population fleeing en mass with everything they could carry as brave mercenaries and clever stratagems held back the onrushing tide of hellish wrath and silver treachery. On this occasion, the celebration took on a different tone.

Outside the nascent fortress-city of Quepta, there was a vast field of packed earth. For the last months it had been a drilling ground, Hobgoblin drill sergeants had worked themselves to exhaustion imposing some level of skill and discipline upon thousands of gathered street toughs, bandit champions, and foolhardy young volunteers. The tents pulled down, surrounded by masses of gawking refugees, it now hosted the new army’s final benediction.

Facing imminent invasion from the literal legions of Hell, the panicking citizens of Khasal had screamed out with one voice for an army to defend them. From their number, they had charged the Exalted Lia Misri with the task of calling one into being. Beloved of the Architect, Weaver in Blood and Bone, Mother of Monsters- no one can say they did not know just who they were empowering.

The array encircled the field, drawn thickly with a mulch of blood and bone which had required weeks of nigh-constant ritual sacrifice and slaughter of prized livestock and rare mutations alike. Patterns were drawn to call desired facets of the Architect closer to the surface-the Kindly Surgeon, the Warping Plague, the Deathless Beast-and distrusted equidistantly around them were chanting acolytes calling forth their God and hobgoblin spell-eaters keeping it from escaping its bounds.

Within the circle was a slaughter to rival anything the devils were carrying out in their stolen city, if a more constructive one. Four thousand light infantry had formed unsteady battalions and, urged on by their captains and the rising magic and their own lust for glory, fallen upon each other. That had been nearly a week ago, and the melee was just now reaching its crescendo. Some two hundred combatants remained, and none could easily pass for human, as the blessings of Krikeri and the scores of souls coursing within each healed and improved the body upon any injury. In the pools of blood and acid and ichor that bubbled and hissed on the gore-stained ground, the vast and unblinking eyes could, in the right light, be glimpsed.

As the sun set on the sixth day and, freed from the ritual, the celebrants and arcanists around the edge collapsed with exhaustion almost as one, Lia flew above the circle, born aloft on newly grown gossamer wings. The survivors within were far beyond exhaustion, or shock and horror, but more than a few sagged with confusion as their bloodlust suddenly ebbed.

Hovering near the head of something many-eyed, hexepedal and vaguely draconic, she began to speak, her voice amplified and echoing for the benefit of the many, many refugees.

“Congratulations, Champions! Your are the Beloved of the Architect of Flesh, deathless and immortal! You are the greatest this land has yet produced, and you shall be the army of our Liberation!”



Hail to the Heroic General Azaersi

My condolences for the loss of so many of your men in the defence of the City. They died bravely, and their valour allowed many of our citizens to escape. I swear to you, they will not be forgotten and, once these devils and their wretches are screaming in Hell, it will be repaid in full.

It would show no cowardice to return to your home and your own affairs. But I have a home to reclaim, and am in dire need of soldier to take it with. If you or any of your legions could be convinced or hired to fight by my side, I would be further indebted.

May your dreams burn themselves unto the world,
-The Magnificent Vyas Asrays, Maestro of Falling Stars, Tyrant of the Broken Shore





To Grand Voice Khal, and that which speaks through them,

I mean, firstly, the angels are appreciated. Dying of cholera in a moth-eaten tent in a damp field is something I’m personally opposed to, at least.

But, trying not to be accidentally insulting here, how invested is your church in how all this turn out? Because ‘a bit of much-needed humanitarian aid’, ‘being all poetic and sending an equal force to what the gnomes tricked out of you’ and ‘devoting every resource to ending the diabolical scourge before it devours any more souls’ all seem pretty plausible.

But I mean, generally, your priests must be really good at banishing fiends, right?

[The page is signed with a barely legible ‘Atena’, and below that a somewhat grandiose looking stamp reading ‘The Intrepid Atena Nalar, Ruby-Eyed and Ruin-Seeker, Cartographer of the Perfected Map, Elected Captain of Khasal-in-Quepta]




Greetings to the Grand Duke of Death!

While affairs closer to home have been dearly concerning to read about, I would like to thank you once again for your lovely hospitality these last weeks. I think our cooperation so far has shown rather remarkable results, all things considered.

Personally, I’m of the opinion that a clear symbol of success to rally around is exactly what my people need in these dark and devil-haunted times. If the idea is at all suitable, I would love to repay your favor and host you in Quepta in 10 days or so?

Best regards,
The People’s Friend, and Yours,
The Esteemed Corin Letarra, Ambassador-in-Exile of Khasal





This is not so much a ‘letter’ as a song sung by an extremely loud, well-camouflaged, and difficult to dissuade songbird that makes its perch by the Captain’s office window

Oh, artfully done! I hope you sold your soul dearly, and your new masters pamper you with only the lightest and most comfortable chains.





To the Paladins of the Burning Wing,

Welcome to the New World and, since you only border horrible fungus-ants and treacherous idiots, best wishes for your future conquests.

I’ll skip the flowery euphemisms and get to the point, if you don’t mind-what is your religions opinion on the literal ****ing legions of hell, and can your Crusade be allied with, hired, or otherwise collaborated with by the People of Khasal.

If ‘bad’, and/or ‘yes’, respectively, then I would love to discuss specifics.

[The page is signed with a barely legible ‘Atena’, and below that a somewhat grandiose looking stamp reading ‘The Intrepid Atena Nalar, Ruby-Eyed and Ruin-Seeker, Cartographer of the Perfected Map, Elected Captain of Khasal-in-Quepta]




To Kalira, Skilled and Shadowed

I apologize for my tardy reply to your earlier offer. As I’m sure you’re more than aware, affairs in my homeland have been both distressing and distracting of late. But now that I have the chance to write, I must say that my friends and I must decline your generous offer. As you might guess, most of those who might be interested will be otherwise occupied in the coming months, and the rest have, being brashly honest, simply received a better offer.

But in the event that you are willing to consider other avenues of trade? In the past season you and yours offered that, ah, famously pragmatic adventurers of Silvermist a particularly generous offer. Might we be able to negotiate something on similar terms? I, at least, can swear without deceit that anything gained will be spent on efforts you would approve of.

Best regards,
The People’s Friend, and Yours,
The Esteemed Corin Letarra, Ambassador-in-Exile of Khasal



To the King Under the Mountain,

Your kind words and sentiments are deeply appreciated, and your offer even more so. It goes without saying, but the City of course bears no ill will towards those who have been so crudely deceived and defrauded by Captain Goldfinfer and his compatriots-clearly, we believed his promises of peace were sincere as well.

As for aide-well, virtually anything would be dearly appreciated. Clearly I would love to welcome soldiers marching side by side with us to reclaim the City, but though I am no logistician (and I would dearly like to be wrong about this!), but my understanding is that supporting and supplying any sort of offensive campaign from Rivaness is still something of a theoretical exercise? In which case, the most good you could do lies in the refugees who have fled the diabolical advance and seen their homes burn behind them. Either simple humanitarian aide to see to their material needs and lift their spirits, or simply the same service that you provided to Silvermist- providing security and peace of mind so that all of our efforts may be focused outward.

Again, my sincere thanks for your kinds words and offer,

Best regards,
The People’s Friend, and Yours,
The Esteemed Corin Letarra, Ambassador-in-Exile of Khasal

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 7
Reputation 7

https://i.ibb.co/gw6r0V1/Fires-of-Khasal.jpg

Best Laid Plans

On a blustering autumn day, Bruthazmus watched in glum silence as his life's worked inched further and further away from him. All it took was a corpulent little toad of a goblin spilling his poison for the Council to hear. Unfortunately, Cave Lord Zrasch'in had every right to speak at this assembly, as his Omite tribe of deep goblins had been ratified not two months ago.

"... should have cut ties when we had the chance. T'was foolish of the Council to even send so many across the sea, yes t'was." Zrasch'in had a very particular palette - as was tradition in his line - one that tended to cause certain digestive problems as he grew in size. Unfortunately, his diet was also accompanied by the breath of a battlefield left out in the sun, so when Zrasch'in let out a belch mid-speech, several other tribesmen were suddenly reaching for something with which to wipe their eyes. The rest of the goblin elder's appearance was certainly no better: what would have been a smart silk suit on any other creature was instead stained by grease and other unmentionables. And Bruthazmus didn't want to think too much about the little charm bracelet that the elder had on his wrist, the one with the little carved wooden horse idol. "Hrm, excuse me. As I was saying, now that our firebrand of general's gotten us involved with the Free City, we have no choice but to reply to this treachery from those who pretend to our allies. Honor will demand it. All other ventures and projects must be put on hold, at least until the Kyrsull situation has been dealt with and the nation of Silvermist has been utterly destroyed."

The applause that met the Cave Lord's motion was damning. Bruthazmus knew in that moment that he had lost months, if not years of progress. Grinding his fangs together, the tawny bugbear did his best to keep his expression neutral. He began to raise himself up out of his own chair to address the group, only to find another in his place. The goblin who had beaten him to the bare expanse of the Highest Throne was ancient, more age than substance. Wisps of white hair fell into an uneven curtain atop her head, and she wore a robe of scales of shimmering jade and jet. Every goblin knew her: Ghala, former exarch of the Brothers in Arms and lorekeeper of the Hymns of Hadregash. It was she who, along with Kraelos himself, had translated the scrolls into the now common goblin tongue. At eighty years old, she was probably the oldest goblin in existence. Although she was technically Clanless just as he was, her name alone wielded respect in this company like a cudgel.

"I was not aware that the Ironfang Republic consisted of unruly children. Who are we, to bite when baited? Our soldiers may play at being wolves, but we are smarter than animals. The adventurers may have erred in judgment, but they are already reaping the harvest of their betrayal. One by one, the nations of Hanrui are abandoning them. A public denunciation will do - declaring war on Silvermist now might lionize them, casting us as the aggressors. Our Even-Tongued friend would be the first to remind you that such a perception would run counter to our entire enterprise." As she spoke, Ghala's gaze met his idly, and Bruthazmus wondered whether his sudden salvation would come at a price. "Make no mistake, friend goblins: we will have answer for the deaths of our own. However, there is other work yet to be done. I hope that we do not sacrifice long term ends for short term gains."

He had to admit that it was refreshing to hear his own rhetoric echoed back at him, even though he couldn't quite believe Ghala's sincerity. No, the odds that he'd be doing favors in the dark for a while were fairly overwhelming. The bugbear Secretary General smiled through his teeth, and awaited his turn to take the stand. As he brushed past Ghala on his way up to the black stone podium, he could swear that he heard the matron emit a tiny chuckle. It was at that moment that Bruthazmus stopped considering the possibility of a cost and began actively dreading learning of its magnitude.

"Esteemed goblins of Oprak," the one known as the Even-Tongued began when he made it to the center of the hall, as he raised his hands in a placating gesture, "allow me to speak to you this hour of the many virtues of friendship..."


Noms de Guerre

Fire. It consumed air, wood, flesh, steel, and stone. However, tonight it was a balm and not a scourge. As General Azaersi stood atop the promontory of crumbled ruin and stared out at nearly two thousand goblin faces, she tried in vain to count the gleaming bundles of red-orange pyres. To say that the casualties had been brutal was understating matters. A third of her entire force was gone, which meant that she had been within a couple hundred troops of a complete rout. Her own intervention in the fray had helped hold the line steady, but it had been a damned close thing.

Of course, the same could not be said for Khasal itself. The stone facades that remained at the outskirts could hardly be called a city anymore, as what were once walls now resembled nothing so much as a loose pile of vaguely connected boulders. Avenues had been split by damnation, hellfire, and good old munitions. Azaersi suppressed a grimace as she was once more reminded of the fact that the Republic forces had lost most of their accumulated siege in the attack. They had been betrayed, this much the general had divined when the battle had turned so quickly. Someone had sold them out; there was no other explanation for the Brotherhood's knowledge of the weak points in the lines or their swift and sudden attack. Azaersi had her list of suspects, although confirmation would have to wait until she received word back from Oprak and the Council of Clans.

For now, there was nothing to do other than... pick up the pieces.

"The Expeditionary Army of the Republic sailed across the Sindar Ocean, with nothing but promises of distant fortune to catch its sails." Once more, the commanding officer of the Ironfang army stood ready to deliver a speech during their darkest hour. It did not seem like a skill one would need when becoming a general, and yet here she was. Her voice - bolstered by a handy spell she'd picked up from a Khasal adepti - carried much further than should have been possible, reaching the very back ranks without issue. As her host listened raptly, Azaersi pressed on. "You were charged with the defense of the Free City of Khasal and its people from the forces of darkness. Yet when Khasal itself fell, your banner still flew. The harbingers of sin broke your lines, they burned you out, they stormed every single bastion you defended - and yet you did not break."

"I could praise you," she called out, "but what could I possibly say now that would ring louder than your deeds on this field today? You have faced the impossible, and that makes you mighty. I ask you now, goblin to goblin: have you ever fought a battle that you were meant to win?"

Only laughter answered her, harsh and grim and unshakably proud.

"In older times when our people were enslaved to tyrants, names were granted to honour the actions of the bravest hosts. Noms de guerre, they were called in some places, cognomen in others. You have passed through fire and death, and so this honour is now your due." Azaersi was shouting now, her words reverberating like thunder among the broken stones. "No longer are you the Expeditionary Army of the Republic. Today you take your rightful place as the First Ironfang Legion! You will be the vanguard of our victories, never once flinching or breaking - and for that, I name you Hellforged."

For a moment there was only silence, but then the roar drowned out everything. Thousands of throats screamed out into the night, a chorus of stomping feet and blades striking shields. Hellforged, Azaersi thought, letting the sea of noise wash over her. It was a fitting name - and soon enough they would truly put it to the test.


Dear confederates of our bright continent,

The Ironfang goblins are happy to accept any locale for the continuation of our talks. Brother Kraelos was very intrigued by the discussion last time, and has expressed a desire to continue to attend in my stead for as long as we are holding these meetings.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic
To Captain Goldfinger and the double-dealers extraordinaire,

I must confess that I find myself disappointed. There used to be a time in a goblin's life when such backstabbing was not only expected, but awaited. And yet, the Republic has professed to move beyond such mores. We live in an era of accords and alliances now, and as such it would be more inconvenient for me to wage war on you than it would to simply pretend as though you did not exist. All the same... I want you to know that if the choice had been up to me alone, I would be delivering this message in person.

As of this moment, the Ironfang Republic severs all diplomatic and economic ties with the nation known as Silvermist. We are not at war, but you will no longer benefit from any non-aggression or non-interference agreements from us. Furthermore, we have encouraged all of our allies to avoid dealing with you at all costs. Unless reparation can be made for the loss of over 1000 goblin soldiers, there can be no truce between goblin and adventurer.

- General Azaersi

Pretty much exactly what I said in the IC blurb! Only I as a player want you to know that I hold no rancor for what you did - this is all RP for me. This has actually made for some fun scene writing, so thank you. :smallbiggrin:
Dearest knights of the flame,

We have watched your arrival on these shores with some interest. The Ironfang Republic has something of a name when it comes to forging alliances in the east, and your coastal conquest has taken several of our advisors by surprise. Although we know little of your religion, the goblins of Oprak are hoping to inquire as to your current loyalties, and whether you might be amenable to a pact of non-aggression. Our Republic does not believe in conflict as a first response to every possible threat, and we certainly do not believe in alienating possible allies before terms can be negotiated.

I hope that your faithful can see the boons that an alliance with our Republic would bring. We have many friends, and would be delighted to count your people among them.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic

I am proposing more or less exactly what was stated in the message: an agreement of non-aggression and non-interference, where we each expand and deal with our other enemies, leaving each other alone.
To the Tyrant of the Broken Shore,

The Republic does not flee its enemies, nor does it renege on a contract when undertaken. We may no longer have the manpower or the infrastructure to defend your civilians from fiendish hordes in the field, but you and I are not alone in this fight. I have just sent a rider to the Brotherhood with our reply to the address which was given to us at your capital - the new First Ironfang Legion will not stop until we have eradicated all traces of them from Hanrui. We will fight them with fire and steel and magic until they are memories.

I am told that back home, our highest acolyte is preparing a missive to all of the nations of the world. In this message, he will call for solidarity and public declarations of allegiance against the Brotherhood. The Republic would ask that you join us in this fight; make your attitude known to the world, and we will proudly stand by your side until the end of this war.

- General Azaersi
The message is not written on a scroll. Instead, a single veteran Blade-Peer rides into the ruins of Khasal to where the diabolic host has converged. He carries with him a bag that he spills at the feet of the army - within are half a score of horned skulls, taken as trophies from the battle.

Carved into the sides of each skull is written the words: 'We accept'.

As of this instant, the Ironfang Republic is declaring war on the Brotherhood of Sin.
The Hymns of Hadregash are alive again,
listen for they have been sounded in all places high and low.

Ever since arriving on Hanrui, the Ironfang Republic has strived to uphold peace and prosperity between all of its resident nations. We believe that monsters do not belong in this world. As such, we have just declared a retributive war on the Brotherhood of Sin. Any nation that desires to aid us eliminate this foe will receive our gratitude and our fealty. While we cannot offer much in the way of immediate recompense, favors and other rewards will happily be traded after the fiends have been ground into dust.

If you would like to join the fight against these fiends, all the Republic asks is that you state your desire to do so publicly, as we have. Only united can we stand against such a foe. For any more particular requests, reach out to the office of Secretary General Bruthazmus in Oprak.

Brother Kraelos, High Priest of Jang and Kherak

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg



To the most esteemed Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued,

your inquiry is understandable and wise. Know that our allegiance lies with Our Burning Saviour and Our Burning Saviour alone, and that His Templars' further loyalties have not yet been decided on, due to Our but recent arrival. Know further that His Templars do not strife for 'current' loyalties, but for lasting bonds, for only there lies strength, as is told by the Word of Our Burning Saviour.

We agree there is nothing to gain from conflict between us, and we believe it to be counter-productive to the Crusade's mission on Cursed Hanrui.

Consider the Pact sealed, with the Authority of the High Master Aeth of House Veaneth, Representative in Hanrui of the Grand Master of the Knights of the Holy Temple of Our Burning Saviour and the City of Golden Flames.

We wish you fortune in what you seek in cursed Hanrui, but be warned, for it is the land of false prophecy, and its wonders are fleeting.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour



To the most esteemed Intrepid Atena Nalar, Ruby-Eyed and Ruin-Seeker, Cartographer of the Perfected Map, Elected Captain of Khasal-in-Quepta,

Theologically speaking, what some call hell is vastly less hot and flaming than being one with Our Saviour, thus it is a disgraceful imitation of what some call heaven; it does not scare us.
We will not hold their plane of origin against anyone. Still, as we are told, they are a barbaric horde, former slaves, uncivilized and unpredictable, thus a threat to all honourable nations.

Know that His Templars are no mercenaries, but open to bonds of mutual support. There are specifics to discuss.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour



To the Astral Collective - The Holy One's Choice

To the Astral Collective, there was no message brought. Instead, pilgrims left from the lands of the Templars, taking a red-sailed ship to the Freeport of Vallenor, and made the long and dangerous journey to the Spearhead pass.
They were led by a preacher, an Oracai clad in blood-red robes, bearing the burn marks of the Faithful on head and beak, and with him a unit of Sariant Soldiers, simple pilgrims of many species, and dark elf slaves clad in purple silk.

"I come with the Blessing of the High Master of the Templars of Our Burning Saviour;" he spoke, once a meeting had been arranged with an official of the Astral Collective.
"We have heard that Holy Pyresoul's Heir has chosen to align with the Astral Collective. We have come to pay Zeilrae the Magnificent our respects, bearing offerings of gifts,
prayers and servants for the Blessed One's service or consumption. We would also like to offer you our hand in friendship, as we will not doubt the Heir's wisdom."

[n0ble]

Morale 7


Scavenger-Biomass. Do not come here.


So ordinarily I’d just declare war on you and be done with it but two suns seems a bit hefty in terms of a meal for my faction, especially with the Shemesh’s bloat. What I propose:

- Space 12 is yours if you allow me space 60.
- You go southeast, I go northwest.

Any response other than an affirmative will net you the same declaration of I made on everyone else already.

[St.Just]

Free People of Khasal

Reputation 3
All Messages Essentially Public


The Broken Shore-the craggy and shoal-filled stretch of coast to the North of Khasal-was neither peaceful nor especially welcoming, full of hills and ravines and orcish clans which had only reluctantly accepted citizenship after copious bribes and no few threats. It was, then, a rather awkward place to lay out unplanned refugee camps, let alone a place to organize the battered remnants of the Free Companies and mercenaries who had been ambushed and overwhelmed by the legions of Hell and their gnomish collaborators.

Still, it would have to do. And so thousands upon thousands of shivering, traumatized, starving and diseased filled the region’s largest valley, the crowd flowing up both slopes and visible on every decent perch higher up, the luckier of them floating in the air on their own power of through some contrivance they had saved from the sack.

Unity wouldn’t last, of course-half of them would be gone by the end of the night, probably never seen again. But on this matter in particular, there was no question as to the will of the people.

Floating on a glittering and delicate platform of conjured glass, the Magnificent Vyas Asraya, self-proclaimed Tyrant of the Broken Shore, spoke with a booming, echoing voice.

”My People! We have reached a crossroads. General Azaersi, the goblin to whom so many of you owe your lives, has sworn her republic will see these devils sent back unto the hell from which they came. She asks that we join her!”

There was cheering now, screams of grief and cries for vengeance.

”But the die is not yet cast! The baronet of Hell who rules the Ashen Steppe may yet accept willing slaves. The Princes of the world may yet tolerate you, should you accept the righteousness of their crowns. The winter wind will surely welcome as its own, blown across the sea and marked by the world while changing nothing in return. Would the People choose surrender and defeat?

Booing now, vulgar oaths and angry schemes, exactly as expected.

”No? Then let us make this official. I declare that I will not rest until the devil Izoran is bound in chains of silver and iron, his essence flayed and burnt until what remains is drowned in the River Styx! Until all who stand with him are sent screaming into the pits of hellfire and freezing voids where they so clearly belong! Until the City is rebuilt such that its former glory seems like nothing but a poor imitation! Do the people stand with me?”

The full-throated, wordless cheering lasted until voices failed and grew hoarse.



As a matter of pure formality, allow me to clear up any possible misunderstanding or confusion, and hopefully avoid any unnecessary unpleasantness.

The People of Khasal consider themselves to be in a state of total and unlimited war with the Brotherhood of Sin, and any who, from this moment forward, stand in their defence.

Best regards,
The People’s Friend, and Yours,
The Esteemed Corin Letarra, Ambassador-in-Exile of Khasal





To the Heroic General Azaersi,

That should see to the formalities, and I eagerly await to march by your side.

The tent from which I write is barely secure against the wind, let alone clever spirits. So I will leave the planning and initiative to you-what response do you envision, and what do you need?

-The Magnificent Vyas Asrays, Maestro of Falling Stars, Tyrant of the Broken Shore

[Zweanslord]

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/YellowMandalla.jpg
Source: https://www.posterlounge.de/p/336224.html

Theocracy of Shemesh

We weep
Tears evaporate
Light broken
A rainbow illuminates

Shemesh weeps
Rays of Light
Burning an impression
Everlasting

Public message to the Free People of Khasal

A dishoveled male pilgrim comes, bringing forth his message. “Greetings. I am Senmese from the Theocracy of Shemesh. The Light shines. Shemesh is with me. Shemesh is visible to all!”

“Thank you! Your people helped us, helped against the Darkness, helped spread the word what horrors lie ahead. You know, you know. You know! The dread of darkness. They bring back their word. They, let Light wash it away. Light will prevail against Darkness! Light, yes, Shemesh, thank you, thanks. Thanks from the Theocracy! Thanks from me. Thanks!”

The pilgrim falls on his knees, giving prayer upwards to Shemesh, to the Light, eventually drifting off to sleep.

Public message to Silvermist

A tattered female pilgrim comes, bringing forth he rmessage. “Greetings. I am Abaren from the Theocracy of Shemesh. I have walked over the sands. So much sand. So much sand. Then weird green things. Rocks! Then rocks, yes, rocks. All in the Light! The Light of Shemesh. My path, illuminated!”

“Thank you! So much cheer. Gnomes and cheer. Minstrels! Bouncy gnomes. They saw it, they knew it, they cheered at the Darkness and it shriveled! You know the horror! The dread! They know. They song of it! So grim. So much not joy. Away joy! Still, there is Light. Shemesh is radiant. The Darkness is horror! The minstrels told all! They know. Thanks! Thanks from me, the Theocracy, yes, thank you!”

The pilgrim falls on her back, raising her hands in prayer to the Light, the sands, the heat, to Shemesh, until she drifts off to sleep.

Public message to the Ironfang Republic

A ragged male pilgrim comes, bringing forth his message. “Greetings. I am Neshotpe from the Theocracy of Shemesh. The Light fights against Darkness! Radiant, ever radiant is Shemesh. Darkness will vanish, but the Night! The Night Looms! The Legion of Night!”

“Oh, sorry, I mean. You, you were asking for something. Where am I?” The pilgrim looks at the goblinoid before him. “Oh, right, right! You’re the the, yes, that. Swordteeth! No. Warfang! Yes. Ironfang! Nnnyes! You want war! Help! Join! We you join! Sorry. Sorry.”

“Who did you.. war who? Hmm… no matter! Shemesh, Theocracy, wars Darkness! No can join. Not me, not the Theocracy. Night looms! Shemesh, may Shemesh light, Illuminate! Away darkness, away, away!” The pilgrim tries to move towards someplace with a lot of light, like outside in the day or otherwise a torch, saying a prayer to Shemesh, then slumps against the nearest wall, falling asleep.

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

https://www.theweatherclub.org.uk/sites/default/files/Andrew%20Bailey%20-%20Freezing%20Fog%20and%20Hoar%20Frost%20%283rd%20 place%2C%20over%2016s%29%20-%20SMALL_0.jpg

The Hammer Brothers stood before Captain Goldfinder. “Don’t need no gnome. Ain’t got no use if it ain’t no smash.” The goliaths’ HighRock speech grated on Goldfinder’s ears.

“They will help you know, ‘What needs smashing and where.’ So you will take one.” The Dwarven warhammers were a vast improvement to the older arms. And the training had hardened the pair. WIth luck, this venture would play out.

“I does yes like little gnomes.” Ruthric Hammer punched his brother in the face. Goldfinder leaned away from them. Gorthac Hammer rolled his eyes.

“We yes take little pesky gnome.”

Captain Goldfinder blinked twice. “Oh… okay then. Very good! Very yes good.” He smiled and snapped his fingers. A few moments later a smiling gnome appeared. Goldfinder tossed them a bag of coins. “You have much to do. Get to it.”


Deep under the cursed hills, the mist still flowed heavily. The adventurers crept slowly in the dark passageways. The dwarven ranger walked quietly. The sound of the gnome trailing him was the only noise. Around the corner he peered in and saw them. They looked like statues all squatted and huddled over. He held his hand out and flashed five fingers. A few moments later the gnome tapped him twice. He tapped the gnome back twice while keeping his eyes on the figures in front of him. He readied his crossbow and waited for the rest of the party to catch up.



The Gnomes surrounded the fallen Abaren. “Water. Cool off the fever. Strip and bathe her. Get that sand out of them. Then bring some troll meat. Cook it up nice, they’ve probably got a long journey back. Shame there’s no Kracken, that’d get them right as rain.”

A smiling gnome appears to the people of The Church. It does not move it’s mouth and speaks into the minds of those that come for it. “We understand your disappointment with the decisions that have been made by Silvermist to enact our will upon the world. We are disappointed in hearing that instead of defeating the rampaging kraken, you dropped it onto an unprotected city. You’re god has not commanded you to care for innocents of other nations.”

“Speaking of Innocent Nations. Your Theology has left you to allow the Legion of Balance to march right into the Shemesh and watch them fall. Do you think your actions are any different than ours? Does standing by and watching the fall of a country leave any difference in the end than attacking that country itself? Moan and groan all you want, but I have seen no declarations of any kind from you except this one we hear now. For all our knowledge, we were helping you. What likeness do you have with a City that will never accept a God? At least Devils and Demons understand Worship. So, cut ties and denounce us. You cared not in the first place.

To quote your diplomat Khal, “Non aggression means peace. It's not what I wanted.”

Lay to rest your falsehoods. Your conditions was reparation and payment. We denounced devils and demons as warmongers and conquerors. If you truly saw the Brotherhood of Sin as an enemy, you would have marched on them since they arrived. You have not. Despite your words that you aren’t mercenaries, you sold your services. Not only that, you offered to charge us for you to attack someone that you declared your enemy. You want us to pay to attack someone that you have made me declare to be an enemy just to interact with you.

We had a quid pro quo arrangement, that you changed, and I have done nothing to break your trust besides that you keep trying to implement your will through subtle and devious tactics. If you didn’t want us to fight Khasal, you could have said that.

You did not agree to the non aggression pact, same as I, because you didn’t trust some of the factions. I still trust none of them. I offered to join more solid alliances, and none of them would agree to that. None sent messages to us to combine our nations. I have been obvious in my intent. You still fail to see it.

Honoring our agreement makes us liars and untrustworthy? Do you know how sand is made? If you have rules of engagement that you believe are necessary throughout all of these lands, then please, share them. But as of now, there are no written rules of engagement, and we have broken none.

There is no sympathy for mercenaries who hire themselves off to the highest bidder. If you had stuck to our original agreement, things would be very different. I don’t blame you for siding with the Free City. I myself understand the joys of wealth. When My son Grock came to you, he offered to support an alliance between any of the countries there. You were the most hopeful prospect, but even the great Republic did not seek a solid alliance. We have seen no declarations of Alliance from you to anyone. We are not part of the non aggression pact.

Mercenaries will learn to not always fight for the most reward, but will take into consideration their use in the conflicts that they will be in. Your soldiers fought valiantly and we would have loved to have had them on our side. Even if that side was against the Brotherhood of Sin, they would have been exquisite. If you wish no more contact with us, that is your decision and grudge to hold. One day you will learn that battles and wars are very different.

[Writtensanity]

Khal leaned back in his chair and stared at the angels across from him. The three who’d come here forged in battle, Dawn, Myra and Sylas, had always voted aligned on issues. They had wanted to fly across the strait and go to battle as soon as they realized that they were on the wrong part of Hanrui for that sort of thing.

‘Every person is a follower of the Voice’ Sylas would say, ‘and each one who dies in conflict with evil is another ear not following the Voice. If we stop the evil earlier then there are more followers for the church.’

Dawn and Myra would agree and start the conversation of war planning before the voting had evil begun.

Once voting happened, Hybert, Jeleva and Khal himself would vote to strengthen the church as it was before marching or flying to war. With the decision stalemated, the decision would be to listen for the voice until it made a rallying cry about which side needed to be taken in a conflict.

The system was rudimentary, and was really just in place to make sure that the Voice has time to make a decision, but today was different.

Today, Hybert and Jeleva had put their ballot in for the vote of war. The Voice hadn’t been speaking words of peace and caution to them, but words of change.

Khal sighed at the rest of the table and nodded. Had the voice spoken up in that moment and told him to stand against them, he would have fought five angels he stood no chance of beating, but today the Voice stayed quiet, a sign that they were on the right path.

“It’s settled then,” Dawn confirmed. She’d been given the status of highest of the Grand Speakers in Hanrui since her experience with the Voice and the power she’d gained after it, “Right Sylas?” She asked.

Sylas nodded.

Jeleva nodded along with Sylas, her silver blindfold bouncing up and down with her head. “Awaiting project consensus,” said reminded them, “be resources and training prepared.”

“I just hope we get to do something else with our spell casting,” Hybert cut in, “I know there is direct benefit to raising angels and maintaining infrastructure but it honestly feels rather bored overall. A bit of creativity would be-“

“Excessive considering the circumstances,” Jeleva took back her place in the conversation, “if we have not achieved consensus then preparations shall continue,” she said. The spell weaver pushed away from the table and left the room, Hybert followed; they left the military leaders and the banker in the room together.

“You seem troubled brother,” Lyra cut into the silence with her church-bell voice. “Tell me what you’re hearing.”

“Of demons and war?” Khal asked, “very little. Nothing but the slightest whisper. Of the money we spent on tribute and establishing an economy here to be non-reliant on the old worlds? Constant chatter.”

“I don’t think that’s the Voice, Khal,” Sylas pointed out, “she’s never considered the different continents of the church to be separate. We have the support we need.”

“Does that soothe your worry brother?” Lyra asked.

“Partially,” Khal shrugged.

“So what battles are we investing ourselves in today?” She asked the room only to find most of them waiting for her to answer that question. “Sylas?” She passed the question along.

“The Brother hood cannot be allowed to stand. The Myconids cannot be allowed to stand. The Legion of Balance cannot be allowed to-“

“Stand?” Khal suggested.

“The Myconids have not done anything toward our brothers and sisters since they declared their war Brother,” Lyra added, “I am not sure peace is possible with them but right now they are not an active participant in wartime.”

“Of all the wars we could be involved in,” Khal said, “why are we questioning the one that declared war on us as soon as we tried to make contact?”

“We don’t have the legions for an assault on too many fronts,” Dawn said, “we can’t afford to spread our angels too far.”

“You preaching caution?” Sylas asked, “I didn’t think I would see the day. I agree with Dawn,” Sylas crosses his arms like that was the only point to make and Dawn beamed at the approval.

The conversation was about to continue, logistics were about the be discussed. All of the angels in the room, and the entire chorus of the church stopped.

In unison the church shouted: “Salvation.”


Heralds dot the skies in the coming days, they carry a short set of messages.

We can no longer allow Sin to prosper and tempt the potential members of the Church. The Church of the Truth Speaker joins their friends in the Ironfang Republic in declaring war on the Brotherhood of Sin. This shall be known as the Second Holy War of Hanrui.

The Church of the Truth Seeker warns the forces of the Legion if Balance that their beliefs are unsustainable and their actions unforgivable. Those found to be communicating with the Legion of Balance without explanation will be judged by the Church. The Church additionally commits to aid the Theocracy of Shemesh in their battle against the Legion on top of maintaining their war with the Legion

The Nations of the World have a choice to make! Denounce the actions and nation of Silvermist for their actions against the free city and be welcomed into the loving arms of the Church. Join our economic sanction of Silvermist or you will be added to the other side of it. Nations aligned with our beliefs should be as stalwart as we are and offer the same choice to nations.

OOC: If you do not Denounce Silvermist and cease trade at minimum, you are choosing to cease trade with the Church of the Truth Speaker. This is not a declaration of war. Yet.



"Do not speak of the Legion of Balance like they are a peaceful nation. They are committing heinous acts against the Theocracy and we responded in kind. Do not take our distance from the conflict and our lack of free aid to Shemesh to mean that they are not our enemies. We," the angel delivering the message pulls her blade out from her scabbard, "are not the same. You want war for the sake of your own gain."

"We don't want peace because it would involve letting evil live."

The angel stows her blade and takes a deep breath. "We are not at war yet Silvermist, continue to deny the evil of your actions and we will show you how harsh the Voice can sound."



To Shemesh:

The Dawn Will Come. We Join You.


In order to join the united front against the Legion of Balance the Church is placing Sovereign claim over [4]

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Reputation 6



The letter is hand-delivered to Captain Goldfinder himself. Over the following days, each other nation – from the castle of the City of Wraiths to the temples of the Theocracy of Shemesh – finds itself with a singular copy, almost by design.

We find it amusing that you speak of falsehoods, considering that you publicly denounced the Brotherhood of Sin with one breath and allied with them the next. The hypocrisy is astounding.

While we are discussing falsehoods, however, let us put one to rest. We did not sell you our resources. We offered to strike at the Brotherhood of Sin last season – despite being unprepared for such an assault – in exchange for equal repayment over time. We would not have profited off such an arrangement. We would have preferred to bide our time before striking, but we were moved by your plight and by Grock’s words.

You declined this. In retrospect, the duplicity to come was as clear as day. You asked us first to strike at Khasal in a fit of petulant rage – which we declined – and then subsequently asked for our help in increasing your capacity for subtle influence. We were happy to do so, with only one condition – that the training we provided you be used to eliminate the Brotherhood of Sin. That you would contribute to their destruction. Your words were as follows:

“I will bring ruin to the Brotherhood of Sin in my actions. I have tried from the beginning to not sit idly by and to rally others to action. I apologize for my failures. If your words had reached my ears a moment sooner, I feel that a combined effort between myself and the Free Cities would be underway at this very moment. That is my fault. I look forward to striking the Brotherhood of Sin with your help.”

How dare you accuse us of falsehoods. How dare you say that you have done nothing to break our trust. You pledged to bring ruin to them, and within the same season led them over a mountain range to pillage Khasul. You have provided direct assistance to the legions of hell. You have grievously violated the spirit of our agreement, if not the letter itself.

We give you one chance to make this right. We cannot trust your word, not now, so we would take back our investment immediately. If you acted with pure intentions, this should be a small price to pay to restore your name and honour. Provide us with the [2 ESP] that you developed with our assistance, and we will cease relations – not amicably, but with no hostility. We will not deal with you further, but we will retract our words and leave you in peace.

Or do not, and show the world how none can trust the adventurers of Silvermist. That your word is worth nothing. That you are no better than the devils and demons with whom you consort. That you would intentionally deceive the ones who offered you aid against great evil.

We know what Grock would do, were he in your place. We only hope his father is his equal.

The Council of Speakers of the Astral Collective





The letter is delivered by Kalira herself, who nods to the somehow still immaculately dressed steward before melting away into the shadows.

Greetings, Corin. I am saddened to hear of what has transpired in your city. So many… well, innocents may not be the right word, but they did not deserve what transpired.

I will bring your proposal to the Council, but I already know what they will say – the Astral Collective is unwilling to provide you with direct assistance at this time. To be honest, I agree with them. I understand desperation, but what you did to your own citizens… well. It is enough to turn the strongest stomachs.

All I can say is that perhaps our objectives will align. Any more than that is, unfortunately, out of the question.

I enjoy our little chats. I hope you survive the coming months. Truly.

Kalira, Spymistress of the Astral Collective



To the Templars of Our Burning Saviour:
I don't have the time to write up a response right now, unfortunately but I hope to tomorrow :)

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 7
Reputation 7

To the Maestro of Falling Stars,

I understand that your operational security is at a nil, as does everyone else on the continent. The Brotherhood is almost certainly intercepting our communication. Therefore, I will be brief. The Ironfang Republic will have need of a few adventuring teams that we plan to use this season to open up sea routes to your lands. We hope that you can understand that investing such resources now can only help your cause in the future; we have absolutely no wish for the Brotherhood or Silvermist to run rampant over you.

Furthermore, Secretary General Bruthazmus is hoping to host a few of your leaders in order to discuss a more detailed plan of action over the next several months. I have relayed my own orders to Oprak to be passed on, as my presence will be needed in the field. Would you be willing to devote some time and a few representatives of note to send to Rivaness to meet in person?

- General Azaersi

I will be asking for some points of ADV (4 would be ideal) if you can spare them for EoT for us to set up sea routes to territories in your vicinity. Furthermore, if you have a VIP to spare, we can take this to PM to discuss sneakier plans.
Dearest Priestess of House Ionlar,

I have passed on the news of your acceding to our agreement to the Council of Clans that meets in our capital of Oprak. Suffice it to say that we agree on much - allegiance means little without the strength to back it up, for one - and that we do not plan to get in your way as you move across Kyrsull. The goblins hope that you will be wary of dealing with the myconid Combine and the foolish dogmatics of Shemesh. Neither faction appears healthy to our eyes. Perhaps a purifying flame might be the best way to clear the path forward?

As far as your warning goes... our sages have heard it, albeit perhaps too late. War is brewing across Hanrui, and the Republic has found itself caught up in it of late. We hope that should we meet on the battlefield one day, it is not as enemies.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic
To the enterprising adventurers,

You are right - the Republic did sell our services to the highest bidder. When the offer was extended to the nations of Hanrui, it was done in the spirit of honest competition. You made an offer and we heard it, before you were outbid by a third party. Your people may debate the vagaries of haggling over price, but we stayed true to our word throughout, a feat that your people have failed to accomplish.

As a rule, our people do not jump headfirst into alliances with unproven partners. The summit was to get to know everyone on Hanrui, to set some ground rules for proceedings and establish regulations between neighbors. I thank the Brothers that we didn't agree to your son's 'diplomacy' then. Silvermist has shown its true character over these past few months. We hope that you enjoy whatever boons you were afforded by the literal spawn of Hell.

- General Azaersi
The scroll that is returned pinned to the sleeping pilgrim is of a fine quality, but marked by only a single word.

... what?

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

At Medju, Capital of Light, three pilgrims gather at a large plaza, in bright daylight. Around them, a busy market is busy, but in that place, there is a larger opening. They look up and pray to Shemesh. Soon enough, they are joined by other seekers, those who bring the Light to the far reaches, specialized not in conversion or rituals, but in lighting the path.

Together, they pray. “Shemesh, Light of our lives. We bring luminance to the dark far away, we bring sight to the unseen caverns and passages. Radiant are our torches, radiant are our candles, radiant are our lanterns. They carry the Light, as we carry Shemesh with us. Light everguiding in paths unknown to become lit, known to us and to Shemesh. We carry the Light! Shemesh carries us ever forward!”

“As darkness looms, I offer lanterns to blaze the path through caverns for blades to ward the Light.”

“As gloom seeks to dim, I offer candles to light spirits for journeys everlasting for songs and calls of aid to bring spark to the Light.”

“As night overtakes day, I offer torches to lead the way to the next down for prayer and chorus to support the Light.”

The offers are made at Medju, Capital of Light. No messengers are sent, but everyone knows, for the message is carried in the light of day, by spies, by merchants, by diplomats, by rumours and whispers. The Theocracy of Shemesh offers its adventurers in exchange for aid. Yet not all aid will be accepted. Most clear example of all is the Legion of Darkness, who truly is not welcome in Medju, Capital of Light.

[OOC: Offering 3 Adventurers in exchange for 3 Military, 3 Reputation, 4 Morale, or a combination thereof. Willing to accept lesser offers, such as for example 1 Adventurers for 1 Military. The Theocracy of Shemesh requires a person is sent to Medju, Capital of Light, before an offer is accepted. Offer ends in 23 hours from when this post is made.]

Public message to the Church of the Truth Speaker

A seasick female pilgrim comes, bringing forth her message. “Greetings. I am Semkhiri- A moment of wooziness. - from the Theocracy of Shemesh. The Light is so much in the skies. In the seas, in the, the- Semkhiri bobbles about, looking at the sky while trying to find her balance, but only focusing on the sun while moving left and right. So much. I come with, with- Swiftly predicted, Semkhiri tumbled upon a rock and fell on her back. She yelped momentarily, but figured it was safer to stay lying backing in the Light instead of letting further wooziness overtake her.

-a message. Yes! The Theocracy of Shemesh denounces the actions and nation of Silvermist for, for, for, the, for the same actions the Church is denouncing them! Semkhiri grabs her head, as she’s trying to steady herself. The ground helps, but she’s clearly thinking, recollecting. Oh! And the Theocracy of Shemesh denounces the Brotherhood of Sin with the war declaration of the Church of the Truth Seeker against them! Another moment. The Theocracy of Shemesh will trade with neither! Please come. Each day we look forward the dawn, radiating the Light of Shemesh.” Semkhiri smiles weakly, happy to speak of Shemesh, before drifting off to sleep.

Public message to the Ironfang Republic

Neshotpe awakens eventually, starts with praying to Shemesh, before noticing a scroll of fine quality. He opens it and reads it. Scratching his unkempt hair, he looks about, trying to find somebody to talk to. “I come from the Theocracy of Shemesh. I brought a message! I did, didn’t I? The light of Shemesh brought me here, to carry the message. You, I mean not you, but the Ironfang Republic did. To everybody! To the Theocracy of Shemesh too! A war declaration against devils, asking for others to join in return for your favour. I came with the message, the reply! The Theocracy of Shemesh cannot join in other wars, for the Legion of Darkness is besieging us!”

Public message to the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn

An older male pilgrim with a large, unkempt beard, arrives at the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn. He walks slow and asks entry. “Greetings. I am Khnakhtifi from the Theocracy of Shemesh. I come for information. We’ve received dwarven advice before. Perhaps more wisdom?” The pilgrim scratches in his beard, desert sand trickling from it. “The neighbouring nation, the Ironfang Republic, held a secretive meeting earlier, with many invited, many going. They talk in secrets, with this hold, with others. But not all, for some is known. There’s a conversation going on between the Ironfang Republic and Silvermist, with the secretive meeting being mentioned. Does anybody here know what was spoken of in there? Can anybody here confirm what is being said?”

[Janwin]

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn
Mor: 8
Rep: 6

He's not entirely sure why, but King Thurgin finds a stranger in his court one day; a large, ornate hall with a large, conspicuously bare table in the middle of it. A man he'd never met before, and who doesn't entirely seem to be well. He glances at the guards questioningly, and they just shrug.

Normally, he'd probably call for a medic...or maybe a psychiatrist...but something tells him that this is normal for the followers of Shemesh. But then the man speaks, and his mind goes to other thoughts.

Thoughts like the possibility that the pilgrim had seen the goblins or angels currently enjoying the hospitality of his keep on his way in. There was nothing to be done about that, though, and if the pilgrim had seen them, Shemesh wasn't really high on his list of "who might try and **** the Dwarves over" anyway.

"Aye, lad. The meetin' they be referrin' to be the one held a couple seasons back, I be thinkin', but it were nay all that secretive since everyone were invited. Unfortunately, the dwarves were nay able t' send a representative t' that meetin', but from what be known it were a meeting t' discuss peace for Hanrui. Th' Republic has sent us some messages seekin' peace too, so it be in line with our own experiences."

The pilgrim had asked about the meeting that they were speaking of in the two nations' public missives, and the King told him what he knew of that meeting.
Normally the Dwarf King might have corrected the pilgrim in what he didn't know, but he had come recently to understand that sometimes secrets must be held close to the chest.

To Corin Letarra,

Given the current state of affairs, we would prefer to discuss what aid we might be able to provide in private. You are welcome to send a representative to our court, if you would like. After all, you are a nation currently under siege and we would hate to provide any information to your enemies if they intercept our missives.

King Thurgin Wildhammer

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

To the Templars of Our Burning Saviour

The following is public, since this seems like some fun RP and I don't want to close it off, but please treat this as OoC knowledge unless you have 11 ESP or higher or are the Templars

To the pilgrims, the humid warmth of the southern jungles of Rivaness would have been both a blessing and a curse. As the convoy from Kyrsull wound their way through well-maintained paths lined with sandstone obelisks, purely decorative in function, the cloying heat would have pressed down on them, relentless in its nature. If not for the moisture in the air, which saturated their robes and left their feathers unpleasantly damp, it might have been a religious experience to those who worship flame.

It was not gradual, as one might have expected. One moment, they were surrounded by massive trees and the buzzing of insects; they rounded a corner, and the jungle canopy cleared, revealing that they were practically already standing at the base of an enormous-three-sided pyramid. It stretched hundreds of metres into the air, a feat of architecture and engineering that would have taken a generation to complete. It was terraced; on the edges of the lower levels, the pilgrims could make out rows and rows of crops in all sorts of strange colours. The only way onto the tetrahedron (short of flying) was a series of pulley-drawn lifts, guarded by several dozen soldiers in silver and purple armour. The guard captain – a grizzled, one-eyed githyanki – spoke quickly with the Orecai, agreeing to let them pass once they had turned over their weapons for safekeeping.

As the lift ascended, the pilgrims were treated with a magnificent view of the jungle. In the distance, they could just barely make out the shape of another tetrahedron rising over the trees. Their escort – an enthusiastic gnome lieutenant – was all too happy to point out the various landmarks as they rose past another dozen levels. “Most of our farming is done on the lower levels, naturally; the air is too thin to support it up near the top! We keep mostly administrative buildings there; our citizens live in the middle sections. Oooh, speaking of which, right there on Terrace Six – that’s the one below us there – you can see the College of Dew on a Morning Leaf, where we train the Astral Collective’s pathfinders and rangers. And if you look over there…”

At the third terrace from the top, the pilgrims exited the lift and were escorted to a series of modest yet comfortable quarters, with the exception of the Orecai. He was brought to a waiting room, empty save for several chairs and a large wooden table. After twenty minutes, he was joined by a very strange pair: a hulking, four-armed humanoid insect dressed in fine violet robes accompanied by a female githzerai, her expression almost serene. After a brief pause, the thri-kreen introduced himself as Kriik-Krilr. He listened to the Orecai’s statement, nodding here and there, his antenna buzzing all the while. Once the preacher had finished, he clicked his mandibles together and replied: “We are pleased to receive you here on Tetrahedron Twenty-Six. It is true that Zeilrae has pledged himself to our cause; unfortunately, he is indisposed at the moment. I am sure that he will be quite pleased to receive your offerings and supplication in absentia; rest assured that he does not lack for consumption. Did you happen to see any of the ankhorrak on your journey through the jungle? They are massive beasts, and fierce predators. Not quite as fierce as a dragon, however.” The thri-kreen’s mandibles clicked rapidly in what the Orecai realized was the equivalent of a smile.

“We appreciate your offer of friendship; rest assured that we bear you no ill will. I would hear more of the Templars; tell me why you have come to Hanrui. How do the Pyresoul and his descendant factor into your belief?”

[Writtensanity]

The messenger that the Theocracy sent to the Fortress of First words is carried inside once they fall asleep. Questions abound in the fortress, like 'how many of these pilgrims must die for each that actually make it here?'

The messenger is given food and water as well as some healing attention. He awakes in one of the medical facilities of the Church, which is empty aside from him.

"Non-believer subject is awakening," Jeleva chimes from the bedside, "metal status seems normal," a short pause, "heightened," and then another short pause as the pilgrim realizes they have awoken in a bright room with an angel over them after fainting from exhaustion, "subject is panicked. Going to administer magical sedation."

The pilgrim falls asleep. Jeleva takes notes.




One of the angels in the dwarvish courtroom takes off from the chandelier and, after circling twice lands beside the Pilgrim on the ground. "I have been told that I should deliver our response to Pilgrim Semkhiri directly to you rather than to them.

"The Church of the Truth Speaker appreciates your sign of Solidarity against the forces of deceit in the world. After the blunder diplomatically over the past two seasons, it seems to be for the best." The angel seems uncomfortable passing on this message, they are a warrior first and a speaker sixteenth. "As for the trade offer you have made the world. We would like to offer 4 MOR for the 3ADV. This ADV will be used to forge paths to [4] and [55] which we can use as a launching point for a direct assault against the legion of balance. Right now our ability to intervene in such things is left wanting due to distance. We hope you will consider its use in accepting our offer first."

"Additionally we would like to know how you defended or attacked the Legion in the previous seasons, do you know what their defenses are like?"


"I think that's all," the angel takes a deep breath before taking off back towards the rafters where he's comfortable.



DIVE DIVE DIVE BOIS

7 Temp ADV going into the Cursed Temple

Additionally;

Grand Voice Dawn 1 MIL 1 ADV and Grand Voice Myra 1 MIL

If my math is right that is 11 floors.

[Janwin]

The dwarf King watches as the angel flies down, glances at the pilgrim, glances at the angel and then sighs a little.

Note to self: check th' rafters before holdin' open court when they be here...

[St.Just]

Free People of Khasal

Reputation 3
Messages De Facto public



Hail the Heroic General Azaersi

My own plans are plain for all to see, and require my full attention. But my subtle friend Corin is already in exile, and has been invited to spend it in the hall of the mountain king. He can speak for the People in all matters regarding the coming war.





To the Grand Voices of the Church,

Well, that answers that question. Appreciated.

If you want to just go off on your own, you are more than welcome to unload at our pots and just go Crusading. But if you’ve got someone to handle coordination, the City’s favourite poorly-reincarnated-weasel is apparently going to be spending his exile in a guest suite in Khazn Durn and helping coordinate from there. As you are so loudly cobelligerent, I’m sure everyone would be happy for you to send somoene of your own.

[The page is signed with a barely legible ‘Atena’, and below that a somewhat grandiose looking stamp reading ‘The Intrepid Atena Nalar, Ruby-Eyed and Ruin-Seeker, Cartographer of the Perfected Map, Elected Captain of Khasal-in-Quepta]




To the King Under the Mountain,

Your offer is greatly appreciated and, while it pains me to be drawn away from my suffering compatriots and fellow citizens, I feel prudence demands that I must accept. I look forward to seeing you in person.

In order to avoid miscommunication and needless confusion, I feel it would be for the best for everyone who considers themselves allied against the diabolical scourge to sit in one council of war. If you agree, then perhaps you could extend your hospitality to the representatives of the Republic and Church, as well?

Best regards,
The People’s Friend, and Yours,
The Esteemed Corin Letarra, Ambassador-in-Exile of Khasal




To Kalira, Skilled and Shadowed

A true pity. Well, I do hope that circumstances continue to conspire such that our interests align.

Be seeing you,

Best regards,
The People’s Friend, and Yours,
The Esteemed Corin Letarra, Ambassador-in-Exile of Khasal

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg



To the most esteemed Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued,

Be assured that the Templars have no intention of aligning with mindless infestations or blathering fools.

We share your hopes for the future, and profess we are optimistic.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour




Templar troops can be observed burning a line through the forest, fields and hills along their northern border, with standing orders of quarantine.

I'm fine with that deal.

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 7
Reputation 7

The reply that makes its way to Medju this time takes the form of an entire stack of documents, all bound together in string. A cursory glance at the postage, different languages, and styles of address reveal that these correspondences have visited dozens of courts and places of power. A letter has been stuck to the very top of the pile, addressed to the Archpriestess.

Dearest most faithful of Shemesh,

I see that clearly that there has been some misunderstanding about the nature of the way the Republic conducts its business. Goblins may have a history of hoarding secrets, but those of us in Oprak who have sworn to the Articles of Iron believe that a new era is upon us; one where an honorable person keeps their word, and does not lie.

Therefore, we endeavored to publish the attached reports to all of Hanrui the moment that our first summit was over, nearly a year ago. You will find several copies and transcripts of the meeting; how it took place, who arrived, and what was spoken of. The Republic is not afraid of sharing our words with the world, as we have nothing to hide. Please do not hesitate to send me another scroll if you have questions about any of the contents within.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General to the Republic
To the Tyrant of the Broken Shore,

I have passed along your message to the Council of Clans, and they plan to dispatch Bruthazmus in order to have him meet you there. The rest of the planning will be up to me - I will keep in touch if necessary, but we should limit our contact this way as to avoid tipping any hand that we hope yet to hide.

- General Azaersi
To all of the peoples of Hanrui,

We stand at a crossroads. One path leads to death, destruction, and despair. The other might yet show us the way to true prosperity. The Ironfang Republic has spoken to nearly all of those who call Hanrui their home: our messengers have traveled to Medju and the deserts of the faithful, traversed the peaks of Nex and spoken to ghosts of those long dead, and crossed the breadth and width of Kyrsull and her territories. Many of you are peers, if not yet allies - the goblin people do not wish to war with anyone.

However, over the past weeks the Republic has had cause to declare war on the Brotherhood of Sin. While we do not encourage war as a first resort, sometimes it is unavoidable. In order to help us conclude this war swiftly - and more importantly, to deter any such other pointless conflicts in the future - the Ironfang Republic is proud to announce that we are not alone. Two of our fine neighbors, the honorable dwarves of Khazn Durn and the righteous Church of the Truth Speaker stand by our side. The people of Rivaness have seen fit to charge us with its protection, and we seek to challenge the dark forces that corrupt the very land. We hope that those of you with good in your hearts can join us in the future, for ours is bright and full of promise.

Brother Kraelos, High Priest of Jang and Kherak

I am declaring to everyone that the Ironfang, the Church, and the Dwarves have signed an allied defensive pact. As of this turn, any nation who attacks any one of us threatens the wrath of the others.
I will be spending 2 more ADV this turn in order to clear more floors from the Crystalforge!

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

High Master Aeth of House Veaneth (3 adventurer) and 6 units of Adventuring Knights assault the Necromancer's lair in the Renegade Mountain Fortress(10), only heading back if the High Master is in danger of dying

4 units of Adventuring Knights head into the Caves of the Stone Giants

[Janwin]

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn
Mor: 8
Rep: 6

To the Nations of Hanrui,

The Dwarves of Khazn Durn shall stand beside our allies, unwavering like the mountain before the breeze.

In solidarity with the Ironfang Republic, the Dwarves of Khazn Durn declare war against the Brotherhood of Sin and their allies, Silvermist.

By my hand,
King Thurgin Wildhammer

Sending 1 ADV into the Mine of Kazn Duz.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

At Medju, Capital of Light, three pilgrims stand at a large plaza in bright daylight. The marketplace has thinned. They pray to Shemesh, together with other seekers.

None have arrived to take up their offer and so they take their lanterns, their candles, their torches, their Light, and spread out for another day.

[OOC: Offer ends without valid bid: No bidders went to Medju, Capital of Light.]

Public message to Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn the Church of the Truth Speaker

The bearded pilgrim Khnakhtifi looks at the great representative the dwarves have bestowed upon the honour of him talking to. Truly, Shemesh lights the way to greatness. “Thank you for your answer, wise King Thurgin! However, Khnaktifi was suddenly interrupted by something else! When his eyes gazed upon what landed besides him, he quickly looked around, moved his feet apart in a defensive stance and prayed to Shemesh for protection from danger.

When it became obvious there was nothing to defend against immediate peril, but rather a representative of the Church of the Truth Speaker had arrived, the pilgrim adopted a more neutral stance, curiously looking at the angel. “Uhm, hello!” Surprised by the presence of the angel from the Church, the bearded pilgrim rubs his beard. Listening to the message, he looks at the angel up there, trying to talk back.

“Archpriestess Akhteret begged for what you are offering in return and Shemesh was called a false god, with the demand to, to.” Tears well up as he even speaks it. “Leave the light.” Sniffling, he rubs away his tears with his beard. “I can bring across the offer, but none will believe me, as the stories of that demand before the Church of the Truth Speaker would fight or aid the Theocracy of Shemesh have spread far and wide. You will have to go to Medju, Capital of Light, and tell that… demand… no longer is the case.”

“Also, if you’re claiming more lands, perhaps wise to announce that too. As for what the Theocracy of Shemesh did, is it not plain as day? We revealed the horrors of the Legion of Darkness.”

[OOC: Reiterating I am claiming the Legion of Balance has decreased significantly in Reputation, as in post #109.

Also, still open to trade 3 Adventurers for 4 Morale, though will require explaining no renouncing of Shemesh is necessary. It just means this trade is not part of the public bidding from above.]

Public message to the Ironfang Republic

A pilgrim arrives running apace, sweaty and puffing. “The Theocracy of Shemesh thanks the Ironfang Republic.” The pilgrim utters to an official looking goblinoid before tripping and passing out while murmuring about Shemesh.

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

Grock, equipped with flame tongue, and three adventurers will explore the Troll caves.

More lies from those who cannot find the Truth. Your armies were marching on the Legion before they committed any attack. We take wholly the lack of your aid to Shemesh that you are not enemies of the Legion and that you march only to expand your own means. You know nothing but to Conquer and control. We are not the same. We deny nothing.

Hypocrisy seems to be abound in this day and Age. You say that you do not sell your services, but given the choice between striking the Brotherhood of your own accord and profiting from us, you chose profit. Hide it as you will, but your actions show full well your intent. If I recall, you didn't join the Non aggression agreement because you were too concerned with brainwashing a dragon.

Since your collective seems so naive in your understanding of the world, let me kindly explain what the free city would do to those who imbue their collective hive-mind onto their citizens. They would come for you and rip out every ounce of your psionic power. They would cast you back into whatever reality you popped forth from. You are nothing more than a bully and have changed our agreement. What is the word of a collective mouth worth?

We don't blame you for taking the highest bid. We blame you for not understanding that your people would be used for war and were un-accepting of the consequences of your choices.When a contractor takes a job, they have a due diligence to fully understand not only the work, but the political situations behind the work.

As for my people, we came to seek an alliance. In all things that is what we have striven. You have not taken our hand.

War is the natural state of civilizations. From it, we enrich our lives and our country. The Brotherhood has every right to defend themselves from the economic prowess and devious subterfuge of The Free City of Khasal. You all have not been privy from their misdeeds and despicable actions of the Free City of Khasal, but we their neighbors know what they do behind closed doors. We will not sit by and let them go unpunished.

The ICK is intruding beyond their continent. They have all sold their expertise to the highest bidders and have profiteered from this war. Now, they believe that they are right to come and conquer new territory. This is not their business. They are an unwanted and unjust authoritarian figure that holds no right to inflict their will upon the other nations of the world. If you do not stand with them, you will lie underneath them. If you are not Ironfang, you will serve their will.

We reject any claim that the Dwarven Hold of Khazn Durn holds to wage war so far from their homeland.They have initiated no effort to hold any meeting with the warring factions and are dragging a local problem into the larger world stage for their own gain. They are simply warmongering colonizers bent to the will of the Ironfang Republic.

We will be expanding south (19), please do not take this as an act of aggression. We look forward to making your acquaintance and forging an alliance.

[Writtensanity]

A Public Response to the Theocracy of Shemesh

A small cordon of angels arrive in the fringes of Theocracy lands, positioning themselves around aid sites and offering aid to pilgrims fleeing the Legion of Balance. When they have the chance, they find higher members of the Church and pass on a message.

"Our statement of conversion was exclusive to the situation last season with us preparing for war with the Legion ourselves. We did not have the resources to spare on charity outside of the Church itself. None of our current offers are considered charity, and arriving on your coast in a months time won't be either. The Light of Shemesh and the Sound of the Voice can coexist as a concert on a sunny day."

"Of course, the offer to show you the ways of the Voice are always open."



A Public Message to the Legion of Balance

Dearest Legion of Evil,

It has come to our attention here at the Church that the nation of Silvermist, those who align with devils, those who sully the pen and those who deny all Truths, are under the impression that we were the aggressor in this conflict between us. We do not want that sort of misinformation out there as being called a liar by a liar is simply too low a bar to accept.

Brothers of the Legion, if this was all a misunderstanding, please let us know that you are no longer at war with the Church of the Truth Seeker or the Theocracy of Shemesh and remove your troops from their lands. If that is the case we are terribly sorry about lending you Silvermist's Kraken, and we will return it to them at the nearest convenience.

If your Goddess of Balance still demands that you be at war with us, please feel free to ignore this letter as you do all reason.

Your (Hopeful!) Friend, Grand Voice Hybert


A Public Message to Silvermist


Dearest Newly Minted Warlocks

You are right that we have taken lands under our wing in the past seasons. You are also correct that we did not directly send Shemesh aid. You may be confused by the idea that we marched upon the Legion of Balance by sending a Kraken at them before they declared war on us. We have sent them a letter to clear this up.

Additionally, based on you speaking of 'marching' I feel it worth noting that Krakens mostly scuttle and swim, they rarely march and if they do it's not in our army.

I hear hellfire is balmy this time of year, but make sure to stay away from your new friends. We would hate for there to be anything other than sin purging this season.

Your Kraken Transportation Specialist,

Grand Voice Hybert.



Do you hear the voice Brothers and Sisters from another world? Do you hear the Voice ringing in your ear? Or does she appear to you as fire in your hearts as she does to Shemesh?

Your Legions have been spreading across the South of Kyrsull, a place where we personally were planning to fight the menace of the Myconid horde. The cannot be reasoned with, they have no god but consumption.

We do not know the messages they have sent you, but we advise that you accept nothing from them but a declaration of war. They cannot be reasoned with, and you shall not find a stalwart ally in their ranks. Though, you will find many spores to burn should you stand against them Brothers and Sisters.

May whatever light you have in your soul guide you,

Grand Voice Jeleva, Church of the Truth Speaker.

[n0ble]

Where Angels Fear to Tread


“On a day when little water was to be found Man spent awhile in thought and realized that he might one day die, never to rise again. Man sent Dog to God to ask that he might come back to live again, like the flowering plant, after death.

Dog went off and followed his nose toward God. He was soon distracted by the smell of soup, and followed his hunger toward the source. Leaning close to watch it boil, Dog was content and forgot his mission.

Seeing that Dog was lost, Frog took it upon himself to go to God and tell him that Man did not want to live again. If Man were to be reborn, thought Frog, he would soon muddy the rivers and destroy the birthplaces of frogs.

Dog finally arrived to tell God Man's message. Leaning low, he crooned Man's need for rebirth in the song of his howl. God was touched by the devotion of Dog for Man.

But God granted the frog's wish, because he got there first.”
- an African Myth, first read in Mike Mignola’s Seeds of Destruction



Marshal Midgin grunted, cursed aloud, then doubled himself over as another bout of coughing wracked his lungs. His breath came out harried and ragged and wet, helped not at all by his stooped posture. He heaved forward, plunging his face into the bucket cradled between a pair of all too shakey legs. By the Shemesh Hanruni you are a cold, feckless bitc-It was a vomit-laced bile that came out, for he’d not had anything to eat in recent memory and even if he had it wouldn’t have agreed with his digestions. Instead what he spewed into the bucket was filmy, with stray chunks of orange anomalies that clotted his spittle. The foreigners weren’t alone. Whatever gas had waged war on his internals had not seem fit to exempt his lungs and so they added their own wheezing chorus to his pains. The orange was reinforced by a black sludge that hurt as it came out, and Midgin was wracked by another series of paroxysms as he felt another cough but not a cough building in his midden. He tried, then failed to swear in between another salvo. Then wiped a few stray flecks of spittle from his mouth with a spindly set of fingers. It could’ve been worse-could’ve been coming out both ends-but that was scant comfort amidst the fluids leaving him. Midgin grunted and looked up. A shadow fell over the bucket and his face and Midgin winced, momentarily embarrassed by his own weakness in the face of an equal. The Blackjaw was in his tent.

Interscene clan warfare had lefts it’s mark on many a soldier. The Marscal of the Second Parallel was unique. A phosphene alchemical has struck the Blackjaw square in the face, leaving him without any other name than his current sobriquet and even less face-flesh besides. A jagged black tract of flesh carved its way up from his namesake to an eye that was fogged over like sallow milk. The last few days of conflict with the bugs had added to the grisly tableau: small scratches and knits and gouges graced the umbral flesh of the Blackjaw’s face, no doubt earned in conflict with a formian that was big as the tale that garnered the injuries. Midgin liked the Blackjaw. His wounds made it difficult to converse and as things was Midgins condition, much like his fellow Marscal, did not lend itself to conversation. But the Blackjaws presence in his tent meant something and that was something Midgin knew needed addressing. Probably some **** to do with my Parallel. Not that Midgin’d hear of it. Even amongst the Brelanders the Blackjaw has a reputation for stoicism. Which, in turn, left it to Midgin to divine his second’s meaning with naught but his wits and a bucket of pertussints. And maybe a few words.

“Why are you in my sickness?” No response was forthcoming. Midgin set the bucket to the side and rose to collect what scant affects were strewn about the tent. The breastplate and longsword- his breastplate and longsword- made the white cloth's perimeter a solider's abode, which suited Midgin just fine. Midgin buckled his breastplate in, momentarily gasping at the pressure the armor exerted. The Blackjaw smirked, and Midgin tried to eek out some inkling of shared camaraderie amidst his scars. Finding none, the Marscal drew his belt up about his waste complete with: a longsword, its scabbard, several spore bags and his medallion. That drew a pause, nae warranted a pause. Midigin looked at the dull red liquid that his medallion captured, hodling it in between his face and the Blackjaw's grimace. The Ambrosia of Fate. Midigin didnt regard many things with respect. But when one was concerned with death it paid to pay attention, and Marscal Midgin was ever in the business of affording attention towards that which ensured his own survival. If only for a moment. He went forward, towards the Blackjaw into the head of a procession that occupied the Third Parallel. As always, no response was forthcoming

The blasted trench that greeted him was without a master. Marscal Groth was snatched away by a drone that had crested Hanruni's sky amidst alien wings. Midign remembered clearly: one minute Groth was expositing on the virtues of holding fast to the Truth of things, drunk on plant. The next he was amongst a great snarl of limbs and screams and blood that careened him up and away from his domain. Away from Hanruni. Never to be seen again. Midigin suppressed a grimace at an old friend’s death then bared on between the thick walls of earth that passed for the Third Parallel. In the days since Groth’s abduction, rumors had suffused the trio of trenches that stood against the bugs. Heh. Stood against them…Midgin turned attention away from such grimness and cast his attentions to the Third Parallel, the last bastion for their survival should things go tits up.

It did little to ease the torments of his mind. As was any medic’s trench, the Third Parallel was suffused with misery. Midgin saw their advanced countenanced by men whose limbs had shriveled, atrophied into black crippled approximations of what their former functions once held. We have no medicine. Women moaning and-nae-wailing over the malign lumps that passed for the gestations of their wombs. A man cut across his vision, no teeth in his mouth but plenty in his face. Men gasping out their last as they were spoonfed some gristleaf for their pains. We should never have accepted refugees. Midgin saw men brewing whiskeys and fight-draughts, ignorant of the aftereffect the latter would have while glad for the stupor the former would induce. The whiskeys and tabaccos would provide courage where prayer and brew could not. I’m going to die here.

No ones ever really gone.

Midgin’s pain could empathize with their plight, but not his mind. Whiskeys may have blissed a soldier out, but they distorted the vector of a killing blow. Delayed it. Bludgeonded it into a torpor that would see them to a death that Midgin did not want. Not here. Not amongst the lands of his fathers so changed and warped by annexation. Some stray smidgen -Marscal Midgin Smidgin. Heh-intellect held on and refused to bend to his empathy. They reached the end of the parallel, the entrance to the Blakckjaw’s domicile.

A ramp led upwards to a yawing opening, hazed over with ochre mists. Midgin kept walking and braced himself for the rotten egg smell that always brought tears to his eyes. Somewhere along the way to where he was master, his scarred companion had picked up his weapon: a maul, cruel and wrought of horrible black iron. “You planning on killing more bugs than me Blackjaw?” That drew a few laughs from the Third, yet fewer still from the second and their commander. The Second was a grim bunch. The pushback from the bugs had seen them hewn down to maybe a score of men, all armed with scowls and cruel looking sharp edges. Well. Except for the maul. Like everyone in the trench and the man who stood for them, it was a terrifyingly capable blunt object. Midgin suppressed a shiver and trudged on, bracing himself for the real terror that he was about to witness.

The entrance to dammnation yawned open, hazed over with an ochre mist that reduced visibility to about five meters. Midgin and the other pressed on and up the Third parallel's ramp, though Midgin calling a bit of packed earth and alchemicals a ramp was a bit pathetic. But the fungi come on, so we make do. He was glad to leave the horrors of the third trench behind. The two Marscals trudged up a part of the trench that cut upwards towards level land, the latter’s crew and reminders in tow. Secure land. If it could be called that. Groth’s rumored hauntings had permeated the very earth itself, though to Midgin’s mind things didn’t need much more tainting. The grass, now a mottled yellow amidst the gases the bugs unleashed, gave way to a bright red circle rimmed by a language of limb and hair and tendon, all slicked red in honnor of their nation.

The Balamites were at it again.

Maybe it was the chem in the air, the soporific haze that made his eyes water, but the Marscal would have put even monies on it being the sigils within the circle. Welded with the remains of the tribute the refugee-witches had demanded. For their survival. Midgin didnt question his own survival. That was never a question. But there were days...

Here a limb not used in the circumfrence met with torso into what seemed a face that held all the happiness of the world, its mouth pulled wide by all the hands the Balamites could proffer for. That was the part that scared Midgin the most. The shear reasonability of what had been traded in the face of extinction. That the monsters and old tales of his youth had been something more than figments of a soft minded wetnurse. That the things had been real and with very real appetites. That they had been reasonable, even, with forearms slicked red. How strange then, to take comfort in their horrendous gifts. Apparently mutual annihilation was great for making people work as one. Now if only the bugs had that problem.

Looking at the sigils meant not having to look around at whatever blasted Sinscape passed as worth surviving for today. But it also hurt his eyes and made Midgin feel like he was in front of a bucket again. A great spiraling bucket for you and your wastes. He looked back to the ochre grass and another sloping trench ahead. The Second parallel. That steadied him somewhat, He wiped a forearm across his face and hurried pace, doing his best to ignore the witches chanting. It sounded like an abattoir. A demented, cacaphonic abattoir. There was a battle to conduct and he had places to be that involved a different sort of haggling for flesh.

The Blackjaw laid a departing hand on his shoulder, its weight a comforting reassurance, then saw to one of his men that was cradled over himself and crying. Midgin couldn’t remember the man’s name, and quickly clambered up over the Second Parallel’s lip towards his real home. The smell of plant stewing in brewpots wafted over the rotten egg smell the wind typically carried. Couldve been that, but Midgin thought it something about being so close to the enemy put a bit of an extra spring in his step, just enough to heave himself back into the comfort of the First Parallel’s earth. He relief was cut short. The burst of energy had cost his lungs and he was paying for it, leaving him unsteady as he went face first. The impact drove all the air from his lungs, strangling any chance he had of catching a new one. Smothering it. This close to the front he wasn’t able to catch a brake. Too much sulfide in the in the air. Too much fungus. Too much blood in the air. Too many dead to the formian and whatever gamboled them about on their on their carapaced limbs, digging into the core of his psyche-

“On your feet soldier.” Letnant. Ranks. Good. Shreeva. Better. Midgin turned to the woman and her fellow trenchers. His fellow trenchers. Mine. Shreeva was colored a chalky purple, flush with the fightbrew that had swelled to a full plum amongst the others. Shreeva was offering him an a hand with a fightdrink in it that smelled like lavender and whiskies. Midgin flared his nostrils and the smell brought he up from his knees and into a waterfall of bitter chugging that set back down onto his knees as the brew scalded his throat with vigour. The ground took on a clearer, yellow free tint that rushed towards him and midgin stead himself in the boots and the brew as it took the same hold it was taking on everyone else. He could hear the wings of a birda and the laces of fungus that covered it wings, fluttering in time with the octagonal legs of a phalanx that danced below it. Retreat and cultivate. He smelled sulfides blowing through the few leaves left on the few trees left standing and Midgin bared his teeth and thumped in times with the earths sorrow because the sulfides didn’t smell like defeat with his new senses. They smelled like victory. You will die where you stand.

Midigin stood. Grasped forearms with Shreeva and Big Mykka and Silphee and the others and took comfort in the meaty thump of each embrace. He looked to Shreeva’s face, her eyes dark pools of violet that bled a lambent sap of true purple, just as sure Midgin was sure his own eyes were. “By Sin & Mist.” Midgin shivered out the last of the come-ups. “Hell of a way to report in soldiers.”

“Thought your coughing merited a drink. Marscal.” She added the title like an afterthought. Midgin didn’t cough when he spoke. “That it does. And what words the brew might permit me ‘fore we get to killing bug.” A few cries of “**** the Formian!” cheered on by “Bugger Stellacy!” and rounded out by a particularly enthusiastic “Bugs taste baddest!” from big Mykka, filled the trench’s steepness. Midgin turned and tried not to look at the feral promise of Shreeva’s face. “What would the Blackjaw say, Letnant”? He bared his canines and hawked a gob of black spittle, dyed purple by his vision. Shreeva returned the gesture. “Speech?” Dam. She even got the growly bit right. That settled it.

What the **** had the Blackjaw dragged him out here for? The thought came on slow, curd-like and Midgin found it lost to the bravery that gestated in his chest.

Marscal Midgin put both hands on his belt and cleared a jump to the lip of his trench with one jump, all legs. He removed a hand from his belt to his blade and readied for a flourish. The brew let him see the sun and he could catch it on his blade perfectly if he timed it right for the apogee of his little speech. “Alright you rascals! Git to getting up with me up heresome, that we may share-“ Then the earth exploded around Midgin and he was heaved first down a bit then much more up as the colour bled from his skin and his vision as he reached for his sword-a sword that wasn’t there. J-just slimy g-g-guts? He tried to wheeze but something was choking at his throat and something was through the part of his chest that was still his as the purple flashed-edges of his vision degragded to from violet to purple to black. To green, to the earth and the tunnel carved below him. Some feral purpose, maybe the last of the brew, forced Midgin to think-thhink things through to the end. He was surrounded by legs. Chittering and dancing and scraping and thumping together against one another. The Ambrosia! He could have it he could he could have and he could still fight with it in. It in. It in him. Midgin made to tear the little ornament from where it rested on his neck, then spied it next to his arm, cast free of his neck, crushed under formian lim-




Witch Tehan looked out across the field towards the unfolding calamity with a pair of eyes that were scrimshawed over with the signs of his nation. Well. Not quite. Balam was gone, which meant that Today Balam was a tent and a patch of much too green grass. I prefer crimson. Just not today. Today home had devolved into another slaughter, and Tehan would have been lying if he said any felt anything over a few deaths. In spite of imminent doom. They hadn’t called it the City Stained Red for nothing, and he’d spilled his fair share of crimson. Death was natural. Besides there were other things to consider, like the holy work he was doing right now. Work paid for yes, and even bartered for, but holy work nonetheless. Tehan looked about. Todays entrant into would-be Balam was the patch of earth reddened by what he and the other witches had stapled to it. Tehan grinned a bitter rictus. New Balam, I found you today! He glanced at the arcaneries being worked into the ground. All-he counted-eighty? Ninety feet in diameter of you.

The screams that came from what few severed ears he’d scattered about the first parallel sounded half drunk, half choked. Sounded like somebody had spiked the front-fighters brews. Pity. They were dying much too quickly and Tehan was finding it difficult to collect what was left in their minds but, that was what one got for shoddy potions. And its not like the brew left much mental energy to begin with. It spoke to his command of the magics about that he was able to pluck a few specks and morsel of consciousness from the dying tumult of what felt like the Letnant’s mind. And the last few gasps of Midgin’s hope for fuel. Useful things, amidst so much worry. Worry would make the prison weak and Tehan quite fancied staying alive today. All evidence of death to the contrary. The suffering went to the outsider. Tehan prayed that it would be enough. The thing for the tulpa was hungry. He could feel it like a hand on his shoulder. Beckoning to be glutted on thought and memory. Tehan’s eyes flitted away from the unfolding massacre, hazarding a glance at the sigil and remains staked to the ground. They made his eyes weep a bit more but it was worth it, another pulse of magic that elated his spirits. Daresay, almost nostalgic.

Things were progressing nicely, but not nearly quickly enough, and Tehan dumped a few more ounces of the First’s thought into the ritual, making sure to not give too much to the outsider being conjured, nor its vessel. It took a light touch, but Tehan was up for it. The air above the sigil-his coven’s sigil-began to wimple as the thought-bleed weakened the barriers between this reality and one more bent on thoughts of carnage. Witch Tehan smiled and thought a bit harder about the willpower prison he and the cabala were making.

The second parallel had already been overrun and was, to their credit, making a good and well ordered retreat out of the yellow and purple Miasma that chased after them. A man with half a face and an even uglier sobriquet was carrying a man and his head wound across one should. His other arm was occupied with dragging the lug of metal that passed for his weapon. The Second shared some color with the First's fightbrews, but where the first was purple theirs was acrylic cyan. Heh. Two soldiers streaked with purple fell in behind the second, adopting a familiar looking postion in the middle. Huh. The Letnant had made it afterall. Here and their the pair’s flesh was patched green, some fluke of the brew producing antibodies to whatever spoorifics were in the air. One of them was bleeding badly from a near-hamstrung leg, puppeted by the brew like Tehan would have done with his magics and a hex doll. The soldier stumbled, was helped by his Letnant, then collapsed to one knee despite fightbrew and commander tugging him forward. The Tulpa was nearly done forming. The Letnant had abandoned her companion to the fog and Tehan would have bet an honest amount of knuckle bones on her clearing it had she not already had a lungful of the sulphides. Her fellow in purple loped after the Letnant and into view, cursing her name in between mouthfuls of spittle as his body voided it’s fluids into the yellow clouds. Tehan blinked and looked back to his sigil, find no joy in observing the departure of excrement from apertures. The calls seemed to harry the woman, and she picked up the pace until she was near even with the Blackjaw at the head of his retreat formation.

They almost would have made it. Then the first soldier-formian crashed forth from the mist.

Once, when he back in the orphanages in Balam, Tehan had kept a pet spider. He’d hoped one day to have made it a familiar. By the Iron-Eye. Why did I ever think it a good idea. The creature before him was to tarantula as man was to serpent. It careened forward on a drunken tumble listing from side to side as more yellow smoke bled from the seams in the thing’s chitin. A madman’s approximation of the arachnid, matter -workable matter- crammed into places that had rotted from the drone and not yet been replaced with fungus. Here and there fungus-white poultices flecked with green held bits of spillage in place. Tehan blinked and turned the carvings in his eyes off, for the emenations stung and nip at the his eyes. He looked back and was rewarded with the total of his peoples work: the wimpling had given way to a twisting wrongness, a spiral unfolding into a circle into a gate that beckoned Tehan towards a rewarding home stained red. He shook his head free of dreaming. There was a rout to turn around, and no matter how many of the bugs had started coming forth from the blights the thing behind the gate would feast.

Tehan was stupid enough to look behind them and or the briefest of moments, the yellow mist was pulled back and showed the bugs for what they were: stretched to the horizon. In legions. Tehan resisted the urge to piss himself and was able to hold on long enough for the mist to close again. Obscuring the horrors beyond it.

He dumped more thought into coaxing the thought-shell into being, watching as one of the lesser witches in his cabal burned out. He simply dropped, effectively brain dead as the containment part of the ritual sipped away the last of his thoughts. It was enough to complete it, the outsider given full form by thoughts and hopes and blood, sculpted to a body that would let it endure and maintain its hold on this reality. Tehan felt his mind tethered to the tulpa (so that he could control the thing inside), then twisted his rope of concentration together with the remaining cabal members, winding it into a seemless yoke of concentration. He felt the conjured avatar settle into the thought-vessel. Heh. Hand: glove. The red of the conjured avatar was covered by a shimmering see through-the tulpa- that obsfucated the fiend completely from reality with a glass-like consistency. The tulpa was transparent to what was seen through it: a great demon shaped viewing lense that refracted what was viewed into an approximation of the fiend’s home plane. Mind over matter. Heh.

The first of the formian van had closed with the Letnant’s friend, barely pausing to plunge a pointed leg or twelve into the soldiers corpse as they closed towards his compatriots.

More drones had erupted from the fog. Things were getting remarkably close up, and Tehan would have considered running if-if. If he’d not had such a taste of such power. None of the clunky fightbrews used by these savages, real power. Mind over matter. He didn’t mind, his psyche scrubbed red with the slaughter contained within his catalyzed thoughts. He fought back the urge to join in the chorus the fiend was building about its prison. Nothing else mattered as his thoughts turned red. Extinction for all. Extinction for all. Extinction f-

Something huge clattered past the formian vanguard, easily the height of two soldiers stacked bottom thorax to bottom thorax. It moved as a great trunk of humanoid flesh hooked back on itself, tottering over an octangonal skirt of legs: two were withered. Atrophied. Human. The other six surged with a combined strength that carried the big arthroprod into and through the Blackjaws formation. The thing’s killing arm was a lesson in asymetry-a twisted appendage crippled by the grip-meld it had on the biggest club Tehan had ever seen. The other arm was mottled and rotted, more plant that human or even formain but for the quintent of dagger-like talons it had. Those looked formian. The thing didn’t so much fight as run-over the formation, spearing and flinging and bisecting brewed up soldiers like hex-dolls with its legs. The trio at the head: Letnant, Blackjaw and the luckiest unconscious soldier ever whipped around just as the terror came for them, powering into a leap that saw them clear the air between the third parallel the Alpha-drone.

A tongue snaked out of a face. Set within was a maw that was mounted upon a mosaic of eyes, each aimed in different targets around a lamprey like maw. The tongue bulged blood red, seeking out the Blackjaw as he took to the air. Spikes burst from the tongue’s viscera as the moist appendage thrust forward, seemingly in time with the Blackjaw throwing his wounded man to the creature’s member as he landed. And landed roughly too from the way his leg had bent. Still, the gesture had saved him. Whatever sensory apparatuses were a part of the tongue-some sort of magic whip the thing had eaten-were content with the flesh presented to it and janked back, dragging corpse and all. The Warrior came on, flanked by a wall of chitin and more flesh than Tehan had ever seen at market. For a moment his concentration faltered.

It was enough for a flaw to appear in the tulpa’s containment.




Warrior surged forward towards the man he’d been meaning to kill, all shrieks and gibbers and promises of pain. Something red was bleeding into the air but that was ok. The fungus was colorblind, subsuming whatever matter it could. Old John-but-not-Old John Strong clashed with himself, losing a war in his own mind over the wholesale slaughter that always came up red. His opponent, his only real opponent, was Warrior. His only true enemy in this sea of limbs and viscera. Warrior liked red. Loved red. Couldn’t be enough of it and in that sense the fungus had chosen an opponent for Warrior and John well, for the thing that was had escaped from thought was all red. The kind of thing that Old John would have measured himself against and boasted about over whiskies with his friends. The Letant seems organized. Crush her. John and Warrior were filled with thoughts of glory. He felt lungs heaving with disuse as the fungi made him breath deep in all the glory to be had, and part of John Strong did. Reveled and digested it like a good glass of absinthe or the smoke from a good tobacco. Swallowed it like an oyster. Crushed it under talon. Paved the road to it with deeds of blood-and Warrior-John’s deeds would live famously well with such a coat of paint as the one he was creating. A great red-yellow-green brushstroke across Hanruni, drummed out with his club and new lash.

My will. A soft voice came to him on the wind, resounding like a dust choked Stellacy in his mind. Frail and light, yet weighed down like throat and voice were one with sand. John’s biomass sagged within Warrior’s carapace as hope lanced into his mind. The voice carried a promise of defeat. Of frailty and endings and all the other things John had once placed value in being ignorant towards, now stood up against him as the only thing his legacy would ever be. The only thing he ever wanted from fight and slaughter. Our Will. Now he greeted it like an old friend, every conflict a chance to pass on to the lands of his father. Your hands.

The rouge drone had proved inadequate to the task, brought back into line like the stray thought that it was. John had always wanted to test himself agains the best. He’d never thought about what come after he lost his first and last fight. To know there was a fate worse than losing had come as a shock to John that could only be shook through killing, any killing. All-killing Something deep in the kernals of Old John’s mind had rebelled once, but it had been eroded out under from him by a tide of red. So now he killed as Warrior for his Hive, hoping the one thing that hadnt been granted could occur through some unforeseen quirk or fluke from the fungus that would see him dead. Kill me. Kill me! “KILL ME!” The words came out mangled, garbled. An alien challenge towards the crippled man that had eluded him. The sounds were foreign to John. Like they belonged on a faraway planet. One less kind and given over to the depravity of his new master. “SOMEBODY! PLEASE STOP ME, PLEASE! PLEASE! STOP ME! KILL ME!” More bellowing, this time echoed by the soldier-castes around him as they added appropriated vocal chords to the fungus’ proclamations. Mocking him and adding to the shrill cries that always went understood by fungus.

No. The thought bleached him dry of doubt, just in time with the slaughterfiends collision.

Whatever the outsider truly was, every inch of it caressed the Warriors biomass, greeting the parts of John that were still exposed with fresh lacerations. Look at you. All warm embraces and pointed smiles. A good death. Warrior and John gave ground then ground to a faltering brace against the creature’s advance. It bludgeoned at him with the stray scraps of thought that were still around, coalesced into a glassy look ram. Every blow shattered something in John, but Warrior endured. Thrived, even. John gasped as some of his bones were re-knit together again. Out of place and jumbled and jagged with the haphazard re-organization the fungi inflicted, careless of the host. But functioning. He didn’t need to breathe when the fungus and its Warriror did it for him.

The swarm buoyed him pressing forward to sever the fiends conjuration at its roots. Each of the conjurers were on the ground cradling their heads, the blood vessels in their skulls burst with the fiends escape from the willpower-prison. John snorted through nonexistent nostrils and pushed back, lunging into the gap that opened as the fiend staggered back. One of Johns six eyes human eyes cycled to look at the rift, noting that the remaining soldiers were making a doomed last stand, seemingly lobbing alchemical munitions in both the direction of the portal and the advancing formians. The rest of his eyes focused on the free-fiend, all sharp angles and crimson. Warrior loved crimson. It could learn much from this interaction. But the fiend was being carried off. Drone after drone after soldier had piled upon, only to heave it up above their thoraxs like the outsider was at a revelry. Bungled away over a sea of carapace. “No. No give it back. Give it back! Giveitback! Give me back my death!” Drool pooled underneath him as the Warrior screeched at the slaughterfiend, finding some sort of sympathy in the loss of a prize. Old John strong felt the six legs under and above his own two tense in time with the change in air pressure. The swarm around him stopped, and tensed in kind.

The Letnant was cresting through the air, a mad scream-snarl plain on her face as the last of her fight nectar bled into the air. She had the Blackjaws maul in hand brought high over her face as to swing down onto John in a beautiful crushing arc. He couldn’t have been prouder. The fungus spread Warrior’s claw hand-still spackled with gore from the Letnant’s Marscal- and his melded club hand in a half circle, welcoming the woman to come and crush John into blessed oblivion.

Warrior’s carapace did nothing to brace itself. It stood struck still, the Letnant silhouetted against a sun that shone down on John’s shell-suit. The rays of light that hit the carapace were cast back, revealing versilmitude of colours that sparkled from Warriors chitin. Like some like great horrific effigy that defied nature and the very luster of the sun’s rays.

The weapon appendage snaked out from Warriors eating aperture, newly imported from the Cicatrix’s gestations. It snagged around the Letnant’s foot and hauled her skyward, maul, armor, brew-suffused flesh and all, whiplashing her first towards Warrior then away. Calculations flashed through John's mind In a lazy arc towards the keening witches on the ground. The Letnant was pulled down at the apogee of her ascent maul-first, and the fungus forced John to consider it a good throw in spite of the payload and John’s sorrow at still being alive was laced with the shame of steeling another’s brave act away from them. The hyphae threaded throughout his spine turned John around in time to aim a sundering blow at the fiends return. Just as the Letnant connected maul first with the lead witch and utterly imploded the portal in on itself.

Whatever made up the fiends sharp ends cracked under the blow, supplemented by the breach in the fiends connection to reality. Brawn over brains. Heh. Every time. The fungi turned John back to face the epicenter of the magical detonation. They surveyed the damage, even as the eyes grown into the back of Johns skull showed the demon bleeding back into its own plane of existence, evaporating like steam. The fungi told John that it would last two more steps towards him then be gone and it was right. John was allowed to feel a pang of sorrow, then was corrected towards the detonation. Newly appropriated scavenger-biomass had settled amongst the detonation, their breastplates corroded over a sickly green-rust. They picked at what still lived with their beaks, and in the sounds that followed John found a new saddness, a great trench tumbled down into, to be forever harried and herded in a line towards what he could never have.

He felt…old.

Warrior clambered forward, any sympathy towards its weak humanity castaway into the ocean of blood it had waded, nae frolicked through since its inception. There was biomass to be harvested and recycled. Dead biomass. The Combine could use it all.


Sending 2 Adventurers into the Cicatrix (once more, for the Hive!)

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg



To the most esteemed Grand Voice Jeleva,

Our Burning Saviour has many ways to grant us strength and direction. We know not in what way the followers of Shemesh feel their pitiful god, but as their fear, wailing and incoherent blathering tells us, it is not with fire in their hearts and souls. It rather seems a wet blanket suffocating those.

The "Myconid horde", as you call them, is an infestation, nothing more. They cannot be allied with, even if one had their heart set on it. His Templars will do no such thing.
We applaud your intention to fight the infestation. Although we must admit, the church has pledged itself to many conflicts, and although we wish you good fortune in your honourable endeavors, personally I wonder whether you may spread yourself too thin.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour



To the Silvermist,

Do not expand to old Balam. You will find war there.
If you have need to expand to the east instead of the west, we offer you the stretch of hills at (12). There is already a path from your lands leading there. We have no need of it. Balam though is ours. If you want the path of friendship between the Silvermist and the Crusade to remain open, you will agree to this arrangement.

Glory to the Flame,
High Master Aeth of House Veaneth, Representative in Hanrui of the Grand Master of the Knights of the Holy Temple of Our Burning Saviour and the City of Golden Flames



To the Astral Collective

Same disclaimer as the Collective, but with a meagre Esp of 6. :smallwink:

To the pilgrims, humans, orcs, freed elves bearing the scars of battle and the odd Oracai civilian, this was a land of wonders, just as had been foretold in the scriptures, and different from the plain forests and hills where the Templars had made landfall.
The humidity was a blessing of Our Saviour, and the Faithful embraced it with religious fervour, watching and listening to the representatives of the Astral Collective diligently, especially astonished at the sight of and from the great pyramid. The preacher and his escort though, although they may have shared their feelings, remained disciplined and calm in bearing.

When the preacher was finally joined by the githzerai and the thri-kreen, he bowed low and respectfully in greeting.
If he felt any disappointment about Zeilrae not being there, he didn't show it. He probably had already assumed as much.

When Kriik-Krilr had ended, the preacher lightly lowered his head in acknowledgment.

"My name is Archon Keldrar, of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour. I will gladly answer your questions, for it is my duty to the allies of Holy Pyresoul's heir. We have come for the legacy of our ancestors, who had come to Cursed Hanrui thousands of years ago, when Holy Pyresoul dwelled on this land. His great deeds are told in the scriptures, for he was a powerful ally of the Templars of his time, a divine being the Faithful have revered ever since. If his lineage has endured, there surely must be divinity in his heir, and a part of Holy Pyresoul, which is worthy of worship."

[GameOfChampions]

Turn 3: Midturn

Legion of Balance
Mor 7
The Legion of Balance sent 1 Adv into the Minotaur's Labyrinth and cleared 1 floor. They gained several rare pieces of spell crafting ((++) Mag).


Brotherhood of Sin
Mor 4
The Brotherhood of Sin sent 4 Adv into the Necromantic Palace and cleared 4 floors. They came back with rare ivory and ancient jewels ((+++) Econ), several rare reagents ((+++) Mag), and a powerful Cloak of the Ethereal (+1 Esp Item). On the way out a trap of death magic killed one of the adventurers.


Pillar of Wisdom
Mor 5
The Pillar of Wisdom sent 2 Adv into the Warped Cave and cleared 2 floors. They came back with ancient texts ((++) temp Rep), and beautiful corals ((++) Econ). On the way out the caves flooded and are impassable for the next few seasons. Dungeon locked 1 turn


The Fungal Collective
Mor 7
The Fungal Collective sent 2 Adv into The Open Cicatrix and cleared 2 floors. They came back with several rare pintings ((++) temp Rep).


Church of the Truth Speaker
Mor 5
The Church of the Truth Speaker sent The Grand Voices Dawn, and Myra, equipped with many potions (++++++ Adv), into the Cursed Tempe of the Soul Singer and cleared 10 floors. They came back with ancient Hymns to help the abilities of The Grand Voice Myra, a series of religious tools ((+++) temp Mag), several donations of silver ((++) temp Econ), an old divine potion ((+) temp Adv), two pieces of a powerful magical artifact that seems to be a broken sapling radiating nature energy, a powerful headband dedicated to locating the precious metals dedicated to an ancient god (+1 Econ magic item), and ancient religious dogma ((++) temp Rep). Both of the Grand Voices are injured fighting ancient corrupted Devas, Dawn for 1 turn and Myra for 2.

Forest Artifact: Seems to summon powerful aid to guard nations from aggressors but needs to be completed and panted in an area with lots of free land.


Silvermist
Mor 7
Silvermist sent Grock with his Flametongue into the Feral Troll Den with three companions and cleared 6 floors. They came back with rare alchemical reagents ((++) temp Mag), A powerful Warhammer of Thundering (+1 Mil Item), an ancient painting dedicated to an ancient forest full of lights ((++) temp Rep), and what seems to be the heavily armored legs and lower body of an ancient Warforged warrior that shut down when it lost the top half. No event.

Sentient Construct VIP 2/2: You now have the second piece to this artifact. When pieced together the construct comes back to life pledging loyalty to you for saving it and informing you it is the explorer of a long dead nation that explored Hanrui in years past. During an age of war it was outfitted with powerful defensive armors. Tier 2 VIP (Mil 1/Adv 1) with +1 Mil Item permanently attached. It can only gain experience/level if items are sacrificed to it, gaining more the better the item. Any items attached, and not sacrificed, are permanently part of it and unable to be taken off. Still obeys normal item limits until higher level.

Templar's of our Burning Savior
Mor 6
The Templars sent High Master Aeth of House Veaneth and 6 Adv to the Necromancer's lair, they cleared 10 floors. They also sent 4 Adv to the Caves of the Stone Giants, they cleared 4 floors. The adventurers came out with several powerful potions ((++++) temp Adv), an ancient manual of monster in Hanrui to aid the High Masters skills (xp for VIP), ancient history texts ((++++) temp Rep), a small chest of rough uncut gems ((+++) temp Econ), an ancient magical marvel crafted by a captured demigod and kept in a bottle, and a piece of an ancient long dead tree radiating nature energy. High Master Aeth was injured by the swing of a Death Knight, injured for 1 turn.

Forest Artifact: Seems to summon powerful aid to guard nations from aggressors but needs to be completed and panted in an area with lots of free land.

Wonder in a Bottle: A one use magic artifact that summons powerful magics to effect your lands for better or worse. When used it activates a seasonal event that only effects you each turn for two turns. Could be beneficial or a detriment.



Ironfang Republic
Mor 7
The Ironfang Republic sent 2 Adv into the Crystalforge and cleared 2 floors. The came out with a rare piece of crystal ((+) temp Econ), and some potions made by ancient craftsmen ((++) temp Adv).

Dwarves of Kazn Durn
Mor 9
The Dwarves send 1 Adv into the Mines, they clear 1 floor. They make it out with an ancient Dwarven text ((++) temp Rep).

[Hamste]

City of Wraith's Morale 10

Chemosh frowns as he continues to write out notes. It was so annoying having to write everything out but it was going to take awhile to get Salazar back into working condition. Complete vaporization was notoriously hard to come back from. In the very least he definitely wasn't getting a body. Probably a wraith but a ghost is good for diversity and then Salazar could at least keep his looks.


Sounds good to us, we will head out from Heet and meet you there in 10 days.

I'm assuming you will want to keep using the military forces for now? We can trade back when ever you want now but you clearly can use those forces more than we can.

Hopefully, we can talk about the Pillar again after the devils are dealt with or are sufficiently weakened. They vaporized Salazar but hopefully our defenses are high enough they won't be able to do any serious damage in the coming times. Though if we could borrow that staff you got recently just for the a little while, we would be very grateful but we understand if it is needed for your efforts.

[St.Just]

Free People of Khasal



To the Grand Duke of Death,

I’m afraid that we need everything we can possibly lay our hands on at the moment, though you have my solemn oath that they shall be repatriated as soon as the war seems to be over. I do apologize profusely for the annoyance, I’m certain you could make fine use of them yourself.

I look forward to a new subject as well, I doubt it will take more than a few seasons for one to present itself.

Until I see you in person, then.

Best regards,
The People’s Friend, and Yours,
The Esteemed Corin Letarra, Ambassador-in-Exile of Khasal





To the impressively unpopular Captain Goldfinder,

Just, you know, a point of clarification. While we are cooperating with and very appreciative of dwarven aid against the literal legions of hell, we haven’t actually signed any treaties with them. So not that I don’t hope and pray you choke on a chicken bone, but the People of Khasal do not consider themselves to be at war with the Silvermist Company, at the moment. If you’d like that to change, please do just go ahead and properly kneel to the Pit Fiend.

[The page is signed with a barely legible ‘Atena’, and below that a somewhat grandiose looking stamp reading ‘The Intrepid Atena Nalar, Ruby-Eyed and Ruin-Seeker, Cartographer of the Perfected Map, Elected Captain of Khasal-in-Quepta]


The message is not ‘delivered’ so much as ‘broadcast’. A howling wind blowing from the South, the words constantly echoing but perfectly understandable if exposed for long enough or if a moment’s effort is taken to listen

Your Masters are doomed, but you need not be! Traitors and deserters will be welcomed with open arms, and any who bring the head of the Unchained slaver will be rewarded beyond their dreams. Else, stand fast, and you shall envy the souls you once tormented, for as long as you are able.

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 7
Reputation 7

Public Message to Silvermist

When the reply comes back from the Cinder Spire, it does so through a multitude of letters and intermediaries. By the time that it reaches the shores of the dominion of Silvermist, it is clear that just about every other nation has or is currently perusing a copy.

Dear Captain Goldfinder and associates,

Allow me to begin by setting the record straight. The Council of Clans and I would once more like to point out that nearly a year ago, our General made you a fair offer for our help. When we were approached by the Free City of Khasal, we rejected their initial proposal - which was far more generous than your own - due to the friendship that we held with your people. When General Azaersi did decide to take Khasal's coin, the demands of the job had changed. No longer were the Republic's forces to stand in for their client's armies and attack a neighbor; instead they were asked to train up militia and serve as a peacekeeping force. The goblin armies of the Republic were not in Kyrsull to conquer or to fight, but rather to protect.

Therefore, when a fiendish attack enabled by your forces caused the death of over a thousand of our countrymen, the Republic took the action personally. What Khasal does behind its doors is its own business; they attended our peace summit, signed a non-aggression and non-interference pact, and kept their word when it came time to pay for our services. As far as the Republic is concerned, the Free City is the most reliable nation in western Kyrsull. All the same, if the Brotherhood of Sin had simply attacked the Free City and left our soldiers out of it, there would be less cause for umbrage to be taken. Our stance towards the armies of the lower planes is that beyond being 'evil', they are actively dangerous and unpredictable. Should they invade Khasal's borders - or your own - there will be no regulations to protect civilians or noncombatants. Your people will eventually taste lash and hellfire alongside the rest. Consider the costs of aligning yourself further with the Brotherhood, as you will make yourself true enemies while winning no favor in return, no matter what promises they might offer you.

I would also like to take the time to reply to a second missive that you sent to the people of Hanrui. In it, you speak in one breath of war being the 'natural state' of nations, and yet decry the Republic and its allies as aggressive colonizers in the other. While your logic is contradictory, your position also lacks distinction. War and military aggression can be considered just when fought honorably, with proper cause and method. The Articles of Iron - the foundational texts upon which our entire enterprise is built - contain several chapters on how to wage war responsibly. For the sake of brevity, I will end with one of its key conclusions: the just causes of war should be either survival or as a secondary alternative to peaceful discourse. It is a necessary tool in any diplomat's arsenal, and yet it should be measured carefully for its risks and benefits. The Ironfang Republic does not believe in war for its own sake, nor do any of our allies in Rivaness. Instead, the Council of Clans continues to strive for peace with Silvermist, while making safe the world of demonic and infernal threats such as the Brotherhood of Sin. We hope that you will accept our final offer of friendship.

Sincerely,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic

That part about 'protecting' actually has some mechanical basis, by the way. Because my MIL for Turn 2 only went towards fortifying the Free City's MIL, I didn't have to spend any ADV setting up supply lines or anything like that.

Also, a point of order: when EoT came around, the 5 temp MIL I sent for them to boost their stats resulted in me taking permanent MIL damage. I fluffed that as an outright assault on my troops, which the GM allowed. Hence my declaration of war on the Brotherhood this turn.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

The travelling devout of Shemesh take heed to any news regarding a response from the Legion of Darkness to the Church of the Truth Speaker’s message, relaying what is possible to the Theocracy.

Meanwhile, at Medju, Capital of Light, two merchants gather at a large plaza, in bright dalying. Around them, a busy market is busy, but in that place, there is a larger opening. They look up and pray to Shemesh. Soon enough, their words are joined by that of the merchants on that plaza and treasure flows to the center of the plaza, to fill the chests of caravans.

“The Light of Shemesh reflects off gold for those who carry their weapon in protection.”

“The Light of Shemesh radiates the beauty of art for those who carry their influence in protection.”

Together they speak.

“The Light of Shemesh illuminates gold and art for those who carry their chorus to join ours.”

[OOC: Offering 2 Economy for 2 Military, 2 Reputation or 3 Morale. Bid ends in 48 hours of when this psot was made. Military or Reputation are prefered.]

Public message to the Church of the Truth Speaker

The followers of Shemesh at the fringes are quick to accept any aid the angels offer, very alerted as they see them and immediately assuming they are under attacking by the Legion of Balance. When this does not immediately appear to be the case, they assume it is bound to attack soon. As the angels find priests, they find they are informed of the angel’s arrivals, and they ask to confirm the angels are from the Church of the Truth Speaker. The priests heed well the words spoken and deliberate on it.

“The statement of conversion by the Church of the Truth Speaker was loud and has shaken many in the Theocracy of Shemesh. That a guardian spirit would say that..” The priest shakes his head for a moment and sighs.

“I thank you for bringing word, here in the lands bright in the Light of Shemesh. An illuminating message that the Light and the Sound can work together. Naturally, we can tell you of the ways of Shemesh as you can show us the ways of the Voice. However, the Light is assaulted by the Legion of Darkness, which draws away attention. Together I hope we can silence the call of Darkness.”

“Should you still desire the aid of the torchbearers carrying the Light across the lands and waters, the Theocracy is Shemesh is happy to see the sound of your chorus join us in our stand against the Legion of Darkness.”

“The Church of the Truth Speaker has spoken a public claim on the shores (territory 4) beyond Permedj Beach (territory 55). I have heard of an interest in Permedj Beach this season as well. Is this correct, or is it other shores you seek?”

[OOC: Willing to go through with the earlier trade of adventurers for morale if you’re still up for it.]

[Writtensanity]

MOR 9 for all.



The angels stay in Shemesh for some time after accepting the offer from the torch bearers. In a short while loads in incense and prayer tools arrive to help restock the temples of Shemesh [4 MOR]

Though we have laid claim to [4] we had not officially expressed interest in [55] though spreading the Voice is our main concern. Seeing as this is the case, we would like to ask your permission to settle those lands as well, we have not made a decision but we would prefer to ask permission than forgiveness.


Dearest High Master Aeth of House Veaneth

Maybe you are right about us splitting ourselves down too many lines. Sadly no matter how many fronts we settle on battling, it seems like the forces of evil are intent on attacking from another. Such is the eternal plight of a calling, and it is good to hear that we won’t need to fear the same thing happening over the strait from Kyrsull to Rivaness

Based off of some information we have heard over the past season, it seems that your people have come in contact with a piece of an artifact, a dead tree in fact. We here at the Church have one of the other pieces and would be happy to make the object’s completion a personal quest. We would be willing to offer a similar artifact we found that locates precious metals. We were going to use it to stimulate our economy but the curiosity is killing both Grand Voice Jeleva and Grand Voice Hybert about this strange object

1/3 Parts of the Artifact you found for the +1 Econ item I found is the offer I am making.



To the Silverist

It seems like the Legion isn’t replying to our mail, unfortunate. As such we maintain our position of ‘they started it’.

Have a lovely day, if you get those there.

Grand Voice Hybert

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

Allow us to offer you the same advice. Do not move to Balam. We still keep with allies there and taking it is in their interest. If you decide that you wish to move in, we will see it as an act of war. Allow me to provide another solution.

Treaty of Balam: We, the Templars of our Burning Savior, and the Goldfinder Company and the Nation of Silvermist, hereby swear to defend old Balam from dangers and invaders. We pledge to keep the territory neutral and free from outside influence. Furthermore, we pledge that in three turns time if the territory remains neutral, we, The Goldfinder Company and the Nation of Silvermist, will assist in helping the Templars of our Burning Savior secure old Balam through peaceful, diplomatic measures. Furthermore, during that time which Balam remains neutral, both nations will put aside a small portion of their economic prowess to allow for the completed construction of trade routes and defenses throughout both of their territories. With this agreement, we shall secure not only the capital of Old Balam, but the safety of each of our People, Nations, and Kyrsull.

___________________________________________ Representative of Templars of Our Burning Savior

Tuskfang Bodyripper Feardriver Meateater Onegem Representative of Silvermist

It's a rather wide assumption that we deny all truths. Strive to prove them false? Sure, sometimes. I do apologize for the lack of fair postal service in the Legion of Balance's territories. Perhaps you and your ICK could give them a few lessons in the art of message delivery. Then again, perhaps leave Ironfang out of it. While effective, I cannot imagine the economic burden that they must go through for their blanket propaganda pamphlets. Even here, I cannot walk into a tent and without seeing a few being used to start supper fires.

The Brotherhood declared that it was going to launch and attack on The Burned City and you sent troops to the area anyway. You sent Military combatants into a Warzone and are upset that they fought in the war.

Either one of three things happened. You knew of the attack and through greed, decided to send your troops anyways. You are incompetent and did not understand that an attack on the Free City of Khasal would be the same Free City of Khasal that you were sending your troops. Or, Your allies failed to inform you when they learned of the attack.

The first, I understand, but you must be willing to accept the consequences of your actions. I believe that even with your loss, you still made a profit. The second, I refuse to believe at all. The third however...

Both the Astral collective, who have stated that they despise The Brotherhood, and The City of Wraiths, who are in an alliance (so they claim) with the Free city of Khasal, both knew of the attack (as they know of almost everything) and did not inform you. They both stand to help their ally by letting your men be slaughtered in a known attack. Then there's the Free City itself. They also knew of the attack and said as much before hand. They used your soldiers as meat shields and now beg for your help.

We understand that you are offering economic profit for some reputation. We can assist you in that manner. We are willing to take 2 trade, or perhaps some whispers for this help. If no one else takes your offer, come back to us, and we will supply you with more. ((ooc))Offering 2 Rep for either 2 economy or 2 esp (or both for an additional 2)((ooc))

[GameOfChampions]

Pillar of Wisdom
Public


One of the tower mages in charge of handling entry and mail wipes of the spittle on his face from the screaming pilgrim. "Sir we do not deal with the insane or those needing mental help. If you are here as a representative of a nation we require a proper written message from a person of importance delivered by an approved courier or with an unbroken recognized seal. I can direct you to a medical facility with several prominent healers if needed.

This is the Pillar we do not allow in any random crazy people off the street."

[n0ble]

Do not come here. The only truth you will find is annihilation.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Church of the Truth Speaker

“Should you decide to seek other shores this season, may the Light of Shemesh guide you there, by torch or luminant ray. Please tell us of your decision, to ensure our seekers may guide you where you seek to go, as well to know that we do not carry lanterns to where you carry sound. We look forward to our borders meeting, not just so the Light of Shemesh and the Voice of Truth may be close to one other in presence and faithful, but for lantern and sound to work together against the Legion of Darkness in the seasons to come.”

Public message to Silvermist

A grimy, dust and dirt covered female pilgrim arrives. “Greetings, I am Besentnay from the Theocracy of Shemesh. Great is our gratitude for the music and mirth the gnomes of Silvermist brought last season, able to speak of truth of darkness coming forth from the Legion. Regrettable, the Theocracy of Shemesh cannot accept your offer, for an agreement has been made with the Church of the Truth Speaker not to trade with you. I hope Silvermist can come to more agreeable terms to them in the future, so that they will once again seek to trade with you, upon which the Theocracy of Shemesh will be open for trade as well.” The female pilgrim offers prayers to this end following the conversation, quite entranced in ritual and prayer to Shemesh afterwards, until eventually mumbling and falling asleep.

At the Pillar of Wisdom

The pilgrim sent to the Pillar of Wisdom weeps as he returns home...

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

Well, that is a pity. No worries, there are other countries at war that will happily pay for our services.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Reputation 6



Copies of the letter rain for hours in Silvermist’s capital. In taverns and town halls, castles and churches, warcamps and watering holes, stacks and stacks of the letter are delivered, to be distributed to all who care to read of the spat between the Astral Collective and Silvermist.

To us, you wrote:

“You say that you do not sell your services, but given the choice between striking the Brotherhood of your own accord and profiting from us, you chose profit.”

You lie. Our deal would have not seen us profit. We choice to aid you in turn for equal repayment, a favour you have thrown in our face. We ask only that our mistake in aiding those who would lie to the world and throw their lot in with the Nine Hells be rectified, and that our investment be immediately returned.

To us, you wrote:

“If I recall, you didn't join the Non aggression agreement because you were too concerned with brainwashing a dragon.”

You lie. It is true that we swayed Zeilrae to our side, as we felt that he could be a powerful force for good. That decision was unrelated to our decision to vet our potential allies – a decision that you have shown to be very wise, given your willful deception. But as the Astral Collective keeps its promises – and is willing to honour its word – the Astral Collective would like to publicly announce a two-year commitment to non-aggression with the Ironfang Republic, the Church of the Truth Speaker, the City of Wraiths, and the Free City of Khasal. Those of you who stayed at the Summit – and did not storm out the moment it was clear that it could not be directly twisted to your advantage – you have our word that we shall not act against you, so long as you show us the same courtesy. In eight seasons’ time, we shall re-evaluate based on your actions.

To us, you wrote:

“Let me kindly explain what the free city would do to those who imbue their collective hive-mind onto their citizens. They would come for you and rip out every ounce of your psionic power. They would cast you back into whatever reality you popped forth from.”

Perhaps that is true. But given that they have not led a horde of demons and devils across the mountains to attack a neighbor that had done nothing but inconvenience them – after publicly professing enmity against said legion of the damned, no less – we still find them to be more trustworthy than you. Consider that.

To us, you wrote:

“You are nothing more than a bully and have changed our agreement.”

You broke our agreement, Captain Goldfinder. Our aid was conditional on you working towards the destruction of the Brotherhood of Sin. Instead, you have conspired with them after publicly declaring your enmity towards them – and continue to conspire, judging from your offer to the Templars. We demand compensation for your intentional and willing deceit.

In summary: you lie. You obfuscate. You accuse. You do everything but take responsibility for your actions. Your every word shows the world that Silvermist cannot be trusted. The Council of Speakers of the Astral Collective denounces you, and would let the world know that any who work Silvermist will find no friends among us.

OOC: To everyone who was at the Summit on Turn 1 besides Silvermist, the Astral Collective is declaring non-aggression against you. Until you act against the Collective – or until the start of Turn 11 – the Collective won’t attack you with any stat or willingly contribute to your demise.




The ashes of the braziers in Chemosh’s luxurious dining hall swirl together, transforming into a letter written with exquisite penmanship.

To the esteemed Chemosh,

We simply wished to express our admiration for your necromantic abilities. Why, here you were in discussions with Captain Goldfinder to return his son, Grock, to the living – in a matter of speaking – which is a matter that we do not entirely oppose. We simply wish to say that you have done a marvelous job. It is as if he never died at all.

On a more serious note, I wished to deliver a message on behalf of the Council. Though we were initially quite sceptical, you have earned a remarkable amount of goodwill through your actions. Do not throw it away by providing assistance to the duplicitous Silvermist. Should you agree to work with us against the Fungal Combine in a year’s time – and to do not conduct dealings with Captain Goldfinder and his ilk - we are prepared intercede with the Pillar of Wisdom on your behalf, so that you both may turn your attention to the greater evils of this world.

Respectfully,

Kalira, Spymistress of the Astral Collective



The letter is bound in silver-twine, and hand-delivered by Yonren himself.

I am pleased to see such cooperation amongst the nations of Hanrui. Though we have already professed non-aggression against the Ironfang and the Church, I would like to formally extend it to the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn. We wish no ill-will on your nations, and sincerely hope that it is reciprocated.

In the highest of esteems,

Yonren, Twelfth Speaker of the Astral Collective




The message is delivered by hand. Nothing about the message delivery is in any way unusual.

The Council of Speakers wishes to profess sympathy for your plight. We wish you and the Church of the Truth Speaker luck in your conflict against the Legion of Balance, and regret that we cannot offer you aid.

-The Council of Speakers of the Astral Collective

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg


To the most esteemed Grand Voice Jeleva,

My apologies, but you will have to continue to conduct correspondence with this humble representative of the Templars of Our Burning Saviour, as the High Master is rather indisposed currently.

Thank you for your consideration of and elaboration on my words, for courage shall never be confused with lack of wisdom, and that we respect.

Your offer of trade is reasonable, and I accept in the name of His Templars. An artifact split in parts is use to noone if all hold on to it. If the Crusade is fortunate enough to find the last part, we will keep the Church of the Truth Speaker in mind for a similar trade.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour



To the Silvermist,

We already made a reasonable offer. Your treaty is of no use to us.

We Oracai know a carcass if we smell one, and yours is the stench of death.

Glory to the Flame,
High Master Aeth of House Veaneth, Representative in Hanrui of the Grand Master of the Knights of the Holy Temple of Our Burning Saviour and the City of Golden Flames

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

The economic offer the Theocracy of Shemesh made concludes without trade.

Public message to the Church of the Truth Seeker

The priest waits patiently. “With no definitive answer as to what you decide, we will leave the shores free this season, so that sound may reach them, preventing a possible clash and truthfully we hope Light and Sound may meet and come to share a border in the season to come.”

Public message to the Astral Collective

A pilgrim arrives, sweaty and unused to the damp and wetness of a jungle. “Greetings, I am Menheru from the Theocracy of Shemesh. The Theocracy of Shemesh is thankful of your sympathy. The pilgrim then starts asking how it can be so… not-dry!

[Writtensanity]

To the Theocracy of Shemesh:

"Thank you for your patience, we were waiting for word from the Council of Voices. We are happy to have a presence in [55] and shall not conflict with you."



Well met,

You will find the item we are sending you on your shores shortly on a merchant vessel.

Good day.





We were assuming that you were going to try to destroy us either way, perhaps we're simply changing the order in which that happens. Moving our destined battle closer than it was.

Of course, if you'd prefer to delay battle. I know a Legion of Evil that is quite distracted on the Northern front while you happen to be to their South.

May our coming battle be legendary

Grand Voice Dawn





Your words have lost meaning. You have told so many lies that your tongue can no longer manage the Truth.

Repent and hear the Voice! Listen to her call. You can still fight for good!

[n0ble]

Any messengers sent to the Combine's territories are turned, appropriated, then returned melded together as one, and only speak in between bouts of disgorging hyphae-laced feathers from their aperture.

The Legion is mine to consume. Your truths and their proselytizers are mine. Just like every chattering iron-fanged hominid, hypocritical sun-worshiper, every Collectivist that dared to dream of a world without my presence, the Sinful Scalebound betrayer & their victims, every grain of this fetid sphere's soil & tectonic plate, every leper and queen, all the blades in the world and the limbs they hew. All of them. Everything. All of it. Is. MINE.

Come south and I will devour you. There will be no glory. Only the horror that comes when all of your multitudes break against all of me.

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

Indeed we too smell death in the air.

Don't blame poor negotiations on the lack of profit from your deal. You very well admit that you sought payment. And don't call me a liar, you didn't join the non-aggression pact. Sure, I don't know what you were doing, but the actuality of it is that you wanted to make sure that it worked first. You have no spine or courage and believe that things must carefully calculated. That's not how things work. You strive towards the ends you need to reach. As we have in all of our actions.

As for our agreement, we have not yet broke it, but you seem content to change it as you see fit. That is not an agreement. We should have been weary of accepting anything from you as you changed your first offer before we could even look at it. Now, you denounce us before we even begin to repay you. A swell diplomatic swoop. I must take a leaflet from your book, not one of the ones that have become so popular for bowel cleansing, and remember to berate and constantly accuse my friends. And to constantly change any agreements that I have with people.

I believe the fault lies in your ears and eyes. My intentions have been clear from the start. And don't pretend to have the experience to lecture me about fighting the good fight. Life is struggle and turmoil to us. Creatures that aren't brainwashed slaves or religious zealots controlled by angels. Do you truly believe that what you are doing is in any way different from the enslavement the Demons place in their lands? P.S. Your trade embargo will cost Shemesh. Again proving that you fight for no one but your own childish whims.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective


This time it is a blizzard of letters, sweeping over Silvermist and leaving copies wherever it goes. Other nations find errant copies blown by the four winds to their territories.

Are hollow insults and childish name-calling all you have left to offer?

You talk of spine and courage while displaying none. You refuse to take responsibility for your actions. You publicly denounced the nation you immediately joined forces with, within the span of weeks. You broke one of the two conditions of our aid in doing so.

You accuse us of being poor negotiators. This is perhaps true. We cannot twist words nearly as well as you. We do not seek to take advantage of those who come in friendship. Nothing you have said or done gives a shred of evidence that you would repay us for this girevance. Indeed, you have not even acknowledged any wrongdoing on your part. We will be pleasantly surprised if you do, but we do not expect it in the slightest. We cannot expect you to act with any degree of integrity.

Your intentions are certainly clear: Silvermist will break the terms of any deal so long as it benefits them. Silvermist will attack a neighbor over a minor inconvenience, without warning. Silvermist will lie about who it sees as friend and foe. Silvermist will even lie about the death of the son of its leader in order to solicit aid. You capitalized on our compassion for your son's death and used the resources we lent you to aid the forces of the hells.

You have made your bed. When the Brotherhood falls and you have no one to defend you, we hope you realize that it could so easily have been avoided, if not for your pride and your duplicity.

The Council of Speakers of the Astral Republic


Public Message to the Theocracy of Shemesh

Pilgrim Menheru is warmly greeted by the residents of Tetrahedron Five. He is given a short tour of the tetrahedron, provided with supplies for his return journey, and politely sent on his way.

If you want to open up an RP dialogue, it’s going to have to be more than one half-crazed pilgrim.

To the Templars of Our Burning Saviour

Please treat this as OoC knowledge unless you have 11 ESP or higher.

Kriik-Krilr waves his antenna in a circular manner, to which Zina politely interjects and clarifies that it is a gesture of respect. “Well met, Archon Keldrar. I consider myself to be practical, above all else. Your nation’s devotion towards the Pyresoul – the very being from which we fled our reality – is at conflict with the pain and devastation that he caused the Astral Collective. He is seen here not as someone to be revered, but as an instrument of death and destruction. If that were the entirety of the manner, this fundamental incompatibility would make anything approaching friendship out of the question.

Kriik-Krilr pauses, the setting sun casting an orange-red glow across his carapace as he considers his next words. “Zeilrae, of course, changes things. We were initially quite… taken aback at his interest to align himself with the Astral Collective. We assumed he would be too much like his ancestral progenitor. However, besides a few differences in outlook, we have been quite impressed by him. He has much of the Pyresoul’s strength, and very little of his cruelty. We’ve been helping him understand how he can best help Hanrui as a whole. Perhaps he will serve as the bridge that can allow our nations to coexist.”

[GameOfChampions]

Turn 4

“In wartime, truth is so precious that she should always be attended by a bodyguard of lies.” - Winston Churchill

Winter gives way once more to the cleansing waters of spring and the burning heat of summer. The continents of Hanrui glow in the flames of war as nations march and cities burn.


Ancient Forests Born in Spring

It all starts with a seed, or in this case a sapling. The sapling has been long dead and separated into three yet it still gives off the power of a high end nature spirit. That was when it had been separated into three pieces. Now that they had been brought together it felt like the gaze of an ancient forest had been turned upon the Paladin.

The three pieces melded together, whole once more as if they had never been ripped apart. The Paladin plants the tree into a shallow hole but before he can even push the dirt back the sapling is sucked underground. Several moments pass and Sylas prays to the Voice that he did not just get their precious artifact sucked into the earth never to be seen again.

Thankfully only a few seconds later the ground starts to shake. Nature magic begins to waft through the air, causing wisps of deep fog impossible to see through as the magic drives the natural growth of the area into overdrive. Grass springs up a foot taller trees look like they gain centuries of growth and foilage grows thicker than stone in places.

One thing can be seen clearly a short distance away though, a small sapling springs out of the ground before beginning a lightning quick growth. Turning into the biggest tree around for tens of kilometers. In the trees center, nestled deep in the massive trunk, is a dim but powerful magical light. The light it provides is not much but it reaches far beyond what it should and never stopped by darkness.

The light moves from within the tree to a tangle of branches and vines, they gather around it in the form of a humanoid glowing faintly from every crack in the body. It descends to the Paladins and kneels before them “Greetings Lords and Masters, this one is the Last Light. Herald of the Forest of Ancient Ways that sits before you. You have called us into being and we are here to serve at your will, the pants and creatures of this forest and my own magics are yours to comm-”

The light flickers and the creature gasps in what would be pain, if it was capable of feeling such things. In the distance you here the forest shaking and the cries of the wild things now living there. Corruption springing from dark magics corrupt the organics and blast apart ancient woods. Small veins of blackness and insidious green creep up the arm of the creature before it rips off the arm. Light shines through the hole in its new born body.

The light starts to intensify as you hear a whisper slide through the minds of everything present
“Beneath the holy oaks I wandered,
I heard the whispers of the wood and pondered.
Through twilight aisles I drifted,
Until the light could be lifted.”

The dim light grows in intensity burning and purifying the corruption throughout the forest, many of the unfortunate corrupted Fauna and Flora had the life burned from them in purifying light. Too thoroughly corrupted to live.

As the light fades the creature stands back up, parts of its body smoking and the arm still missing. The light in its core has faded back to the original dim unstoppable light. It looks back to the Paladins “-and. We will defend your lands and watch over your interests. We do not march to war since that is not the role of the forest but we are guardians bonded to you. What is your command Master?”

OOC: New Artifact NPC rises in 55 Allied with the Church. The traps in 55 were activated, damaging the new NPC.

Sins of War

Isilious Raenber had survived under cults, under mobs of bureaucrats, and under the reign of merchents and assassins. Living under the rule of demons devils and undead was not that bad honestly. They were towards the end of that list but not the worst. Less interested in mass sacrifice to eldritch abominations and more quick and brutal murder if you bothered them.

Still though they cared little for the populace now that they had the city and he was sure the leaders of Khasal would not let this stand. They would be back and everything would return to normal. Still he would miss the ease at which he was able to get contraband now. He turns the street to his warehouse stash, wondering if it was worth trying to cultivate a relationship with a demon for underground contraband to be shipped to him, and stops.

He had turned smack into the middle of a Legion Devil patrol. The lietenant growls “Grab that one to add to the bunch.” Just like that he was grabbed tied up and thrown onto a cart of squirming bodies before being clubbed unconscious.

The next thing he felt was a burning sensation along his hands and feet. He screamed as he woke feeling the course wood behind him and the shooting pain of nails driven through his feet and hands. Isilious can barely think over his pain and screams not to mention the screams of a thousand other crucified people begging for death.

The crucifier was unwilling to give it though, the Legion Commander happily grinning at the smidgeon of torture. “Well Khasalans its been fun but we got what we needed from you, given how much we will miss you its only fair we leave you with a nice fire to warm yourselves at.”

Then like that dozens of mages cast their fireballs, legion devils threw their torches, and munitions exploded. Khasal was still burning when their people arrived, army in hand and vengeance in their hearts. To late to stop the inferno claiming thousands in its grasp.

While cities burn on Kyrsull, Izoran the Unchained sails the seas. He leads the armies of Silvermist and his own personal battalion of Legion Devils to Riveness and the dwarves. Their armies ladn and destroy the dwarves in their home, settling on the new continent with their armies.

While Silvermist and the Dwarves hammer away at each other the devils are hit on all sides, their armies and legions fade against the magical onslaught and agent actions. Mass poisonings, magical rituals murdering hundreds, targeted assassinations, and more. The devils army is neutered as is their ability to expand.

Mithral looks like silver but spends like Diamonds

Stone Warden Brindai Silverbreaker had been running this mine for decades now, his family even longer. Silver was in their blood and the few dwarf families in the town respected that. The little mining town of Silverton had muddled along for just as long as his family had been here. Back when the mine was opened the town though that the silver was their ticket to relevance and riches.

Poor fools had no idea what silver was actually worth in the overall market, and with the quantities they pulled from the ground each year it just wasn’t enough to be a big deal. Everyone got a little money and a lot of work. In the end they had forgotten their dreams been happy with their lot in life as a well off mining town with work available to anyone willing to swing a pickaxe or sweat in a forge.

The thing in front of him would be the change though, all that simple happiness and satisfaction gone and the rising of old dreams. He picked up the silvery metal nugget in front of him and turned to the dwarf miner in front of him. “Show me where you mined it. NOW!”

The pair rush down to the mines and down near the new mine shaft the miner points out the spot he had chunked it from. A massive vein of the stuff ran down even further, splitting into even more veins as far as he could see. The lifeblood of ancient forges, metal of the gods, wet dream of dwarves.

Mithral.

OOC: Territory 12 has an extra 2 econ in it for whoever takes it.

Winds of Magic

Powerful magics have been unleashed these past few seasons. Powerful rituals to crush the unwary enemy, ancient wonderous magics warping reality, and the world sending their magics on the wind to spy the ongoings of Hanrui.
Like calls to like and the ancient lands of Hanrui are steeped with magics old and powerful. The lands become steeped in magics so thick it appears as mists at times, sometimes flowing on the wind or sweeping through the ocean. Mages awaken to their power as never before, artifacts long dead thrive, and magical components are common as grass.

OOC: Magic cheaper by 1 this turn.


Expansion

The Autumn chill and Winter cold stopped no nation as several surged across continents and into new lands or spread their hold further yet on their own lands.

Nex sees no expansion beyond the normal borders, the Pillar preoccupied with their studies and the Wraiths with interests on Kyrsull.

Kyrsull sees several territories taken and brought to the fold, small towns and villages joining things greater than they could ever hope to be. Balamites brought under the Templars wing Devils drawing in discontent raiders and savages, the Theocracy guides the lost into the light, and the Fungal Combine consumes and grows.

Rivaness sees the spread of its nations slowing down, more for lack of room then any desire to stop. The Ironfang Banner leads its manifesto south to the coastal towns and villages who gladly through in their lot with them. In the inland area the Astral Collective bring new towns into the fold with their modest and respectable dragon.


New Neighbors/Old Enemies

Legions march on the Theocracy, Dwarves expand to new continents, and Silvermist adventurers spread across oceans to Riveness.

The Dwarves sweep over the ocean, landing on the coast like an avalanche. The Shield Dwarves make their stand and march their speakers through villages and towns. Many willingly join the Dwarves rather then face destruction but there are a handful of holdouts among the larger towns, their adventurers standing firm alongside gnomish guards and orc warriors. It stops nothing though as the Dwarf war machine roll over them. The land is taken at little to no cost to the dwarves. Cheers resound throughout the army and dwarven lands at the might of their people and being the first to settle on 2 continents.

While the army is overseas the Adventurers struck deals with the Devils and attacked the Dwarves on their home continent Riveness. The adventurers with their newly raised military have brought Izoran the Unchained to Rivaness with Legion Devils to take the coastal regions of their nation. They benefit from the recent churning out of high grade arms and runic equipment and flowing trade, glutting themselves on the gold and weapons.

The Legion relies on their savagery to bring themselves through the war against the nation that would not defend or fight back. Their success is very quick, sweeping through the lands. It does not stop the Theocracy from whisping through the occupied lands to steal away their people where they can find them.

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg

One day, the Templars of Our Burning Saviour marched to Balam.
Old Balam, the massive dark city, built by Demons out of black stone, ruled by Witch-Priests with a bloody fist. Home of Disease, Disorder and Death. The City Stained Red. These days, it seemed, more than ever, with the Witch-Priests and Slavemasters having lost their unity.
The city was but a Carcass, a shadow of its former dark Glory, but still as hopeless and deadly as before.

The Scouts were determined. Almost all of them hailed from Balam - mercenaries, former slaves, street scum. Refugees. They had fled when the city fell to chaos, and they had found new purpose in Our Saviour's service. Well-fed, well-trained and with fire in their eyes. Burning with desire to take the city.

The refugees knew Balam, they knew the surrounding territory. They had told the Templars where to find people looking for a cause, a reason to live, refugee camps, deep mines where hardy slave workers were still under control of their warlock slavemasters, looking just for a spark to break their chains and get back at Balam's former masters.

The scouts, swiftly and covertly, sweeped the lands, preparing the way for the Templars' main forces.

They monitored movements, prepared ambushes, and led red-robed Clerics and Preachers to refugee camps, slave quarters with easily disposed guards, and those warbands led by former slaves sympathetic to the Templars' crusade.
The Oracai Preachers made fiery speeches, citing the Templars' glorious past and future, urging the huddled masses to join the crusade against their former, bloody masters. Those that accepted were healed and blessed by Clerics, and were given swords and shields fresh out of the Templars' forges - which prompted many more to join.

The main forces of the Order arrived. A massive host of shining gold and blood red, their Banners bearing the Burning Wings of Our Saviour. Templars and Sariant warriors both came riding their Drequai Mounts, enormous green-scaled reptilian beasts, heavily armoured with golden plate for the Templars, less so for the Sariants, who served as mounted archers in the plains surrounding Balam.

An unusual figure, the Grand Admiral Ior of House Aencaij rode behind the main force on a slim, fast Drequai, his sharp red uniform, bicorne and polished medals seeming slightly out of place between the heavily armoured Knights and Sariants. He was accompanied by ten women in purple silk, each on their own mount, and each armed with a golden scimitar. His personal guard.

Quickly, small forces of warlords were trampled under the claws of Drequai or hacked to pieces by golden scimitars, small fortresses taken and slaves freed, more and more of them joining the Templar's host.

Then, they beheld the first true enemy force that dared to stand in their way.

Some former Witch-Priests had finally banded together, dreading their loss of power over districts of the city. They had formed a force made up of brainwashed slaves brandishing poorly made spears and old swords, but also well-armed mercenaries in black, shawls covering their faces.
They also had managed to summon a small host of demons to do their bidding.

As the two armies marched onto the field of battle, the Templars erected pyres behind the lines, with preachers and clerics walking amongst the workers, chanting and praying. Oracai clad only in red tunics, some of them needing support to walk, were brought. They were Veterans, as could be seen by the burns and scars on their bodies, but they had been crippled in recent fighting, and could fight no more.
Determined, they ascended the pyres, and allowed the Clerics to bind them to the stakes in the middle.

The pyres were then lit on fire, and slowly, one by one, the crippled veterans joined in the chorus of screams, singing Our Saviour Praises with their last breaths, singing Songs of Glory and Power in high-pitched shrieks and bone-shattering screams of pain.

This ritual of Our Saviour's faithful before any significant battle unnerved the citizens of Balam in their ranks just as much as it inspired the Oracai.
Of course, it had a similar effect of unnerving their enemies as well.

As the screams neared their highest point, as if from an unheard signal, the Templars charged. A storm of golden Plate, claws, gold-tipped lances and sharp curved swords, accompanied by confident battlecries of freed slaves and mercenaries storming forward, if falling a bit behind.

The Black Guards of Balam's remnants took aim at the charging Templars with their bows, but their unconcentrated attacks only brought down a rider infrequently. The masked Witch-Priests thought to have found their enemies weakness and ordered their demons and mounted mercenaries to fall into the flank of the Templars' main body where the new recruits of refugees was placed, but horse archer Sariants rode out to meet them in battle, and harassed them to retreat.

Then the Templar's heavy cavalry crashed into the Witch-Priests lines.

From the Grand Admirals position, a chaos of black, red and gold ensued, from the soldiers position, it was a different experience. Simple slaves hacked apart from Drequaiback. A Templar's golden Plate armour punctured by a demon's claw. Mercenaries ripped to shreds by a riderless Drequai. Scarred slaves tearing apart a panicking slavemaster with open bloodlust, while he uselessly flailed around with his whip.

The armoured Templars rode through the Witch-Priests' lines with ease, and one the formation broke, the slaughter commenced.
The Templars outnumbered them by a great margin, even without their newly recruited auxiliaries, and they were better disciplined and better organised.

Once one of the Templars held a black mask in his armoured hand, high into the air, the battle was over. The corpse crumpled by his feet had been one of the Witch-Priests, who had dissolved many of the attackers with his eldritch magic, but now that he was dead, the remainder was soon mopped up.

The path to Balam was free now, and when the Templars finally took the city, it was not much of a battle. The surviving warlords and Witch-Priests had barricaded themselves in their areas of the city with their troops, but isolated as they were, they were no challenge for the coordinated attacks of the Templars. It was easy to enter the city through the badly damaged and broken city walls, and the recruits of Balam were adept at urban combat in their own city of origin.
Barricades were breached, palaces were stormed, the former masters of the city dragged out into the streets and executed.

Still, the discipline forces of the Order kept the plundering to a minimum. The new recruits accepted after some grumbling, as they were reminded, that Old Balam was their city now.



It had only taken a few weeks from the day the crusade set foot in the lands of Balam until the whole region was fully pacified and its populace brought into the fold.

Blood-Red Templar banners flew from the towers and archways of Balam, while Sariants in golden scalemail coats marched through the streets. The populace celebrated.

The Faith of Our Burning Saviour found many converts following the conquest, and soon, many of those who had fought and bled alongside the Templars in the Battle of Balam were organised, trained and equipped in their own regiment as fully recognized Sariant Warriors of the Order.

Massive Statues of Templar Saints and Heroes were erected in the City, overlooking the streets and town squares and showing everyone living in Balam and, even further, the whole of Hanrui, who had finally brought Order to Balam and who were her new Protectors.

[Zweanslord]

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/d81GoldenRadianceMandal.jpg
Source: http://thegoldenlightchannel.com/the-connection-between-love-peace-and-joy-and-the-law-of-attraction-by-debbie-erasmus/

Theocracy of Shemesh

The Legion of Darkness continue to march through the desert lands, the clouds following in their wake blotting the sun and turning Radiant Saisol to Murky Saisol. In the darkness lay the many corpses felled by blades of black, murdered in cold blood, the dead given no respect, but only the savage ends of their lives.

The Theocracy of Shemesh had defended Radiant Saisol, with armies, with call for arms, but their defence had been pierced by the darkest of blades, slaying countless in genocide. Their battle worthy numbers paled compared to those the Legion of Darkness fielded. The few that endured, the few that avoided the foul ends of the Legion of Darkness, as darkness makes finding the last few more difficult, were saved by rescue groups. Yet far from all were successful, butchered by bloodthirsty black knights, tormented as their light died out.

As the survivors were brought back, so too were stories of the vilery of the Legion of Darkness. And these stories flew their own course, spoken, whispered, walked, sailed and voiced throughout Hanrui, most evident by being carried by the storytellers of the Theocracy of Shemesh.

They walked to the various nations, the factions, the masses, and would tell the many stories of the savagery of the Legion of Darkness, who, consumed in the horrors of war, have forsaken all to Darkness.

[OOC: The Theocracy of Shemesh is claiming the Legion of Balance has 0 Reputation.]

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Greetings, my friends and compatriots.

I am saddened and infuriated by the actions of Silvermist and the Brotherhood of Sin. I applaud your efforts in dramatically reducing the Brotherhood's ability to launch any further attacks.

If your nations can spare you, it would be my privilege to host you at Tetrahedron Twelve this season. From there, we can coordinate how best to permanently end the threat that the Brotherhood poses.

I look forward to seeing you, if possible.

With the utmost respect,

Yonren, Twelfth Speaker of the Astral Collective

Your existence upon Hanrui is an affront that can no longer be tolerated. For the good of all peoples, you must be banished to the dark depths from whence you came.

When the armies of Rivaness eradicate you from this world, no one will mourn your passing.

THE ASTRAL COLLECTIVE DECLARES WAR ON THE BROTHERHOOD OF SIN AND ALL WHO SHELTER THEM

[Writtensanity]

A Newly Minted Force:


Chorus Member Aldan shifted a couple more inches away from his companion to his left, almost bumping into the soldier to his right. He'd been drafted into the army of the Church in order to fight for the voice. She'd told him to come here, and she whispered that he was safe in her arms. That being said, no matter what she whispered the situation he was in was uncomfortable.

The Chorus member to Aldan's left was a hulking brute of a devil wrapped in gold and silver plate from two different sets of armor. Aldan knew that the devil heard the Voice, he knew that the newest members of the Church had the same purpose as him, but something as contradictory as a devil paladin just made Aldan shaky in some primal place.

"Brothers and Sisters," Grand Voice Dawn called, her voice magically amplified to reach everyone's ears. "Today is a happy day, a day where I can be proud of you," Aldan watched her ride across the front line of the groups that had just finished their paladin training. She'd taken to riding rather than limping around. "Today I get to call you all Crusaders of Truth, full members of our Paladin Order!" Dawn raised her blade and Aldan matched, the hulking devil to his right lifted a battle axe larger than Aldan himself.

"All of you came from different backgrounds," Dawn continued, "some of you fought against us at Hangruard," there was cheering from a section of paladins for their former home. "Some of you had never picked up a weapon before the last season," Dawn called and Aldan cheered raising a sword that he cared for much more than his farming tools at home, "And some of you..." Dawn let herself trail off.

"Some of you marched to Rivaness under the Banner of the Unchained before hearing our Voice and knowing that we are the Church of TRUTH ," Dawn shouted. The legions of hell spread amongst the new forces bellowed and screamed; a shiver ran down Aldan's spine.

"We will take back the lands of Rivaness from the Brotherhood and we will crush the Legion of Darkness that has been hiding an ocean away from us! The Church Marches on crusade, and the world will know our might!"




To Silvermist;

It would appear that we are now neighbours with your allies after you took territory from the Dwarves. Seeing as our defensive pact was announced after they declared war on you, this does not put us at war. That being said, considering you are actively trading territory with our friends, our embargo shall continue through the coming seasons.

We are not involved with your war with the Dwarves, don’t bring us into the battle, as we are not keen on another war, but we will not take kindly to invaders on Rivaness.

We are at war with your allies though, and shall see them banished back to the hellfire they crawled out of.

Grand Voice Dawn.


To Shemesh;

We arrive on the continent, slightly wounded but finally here to help. We thank you for keeping faith as we made the trek across the oceans, your pilgrims were imperative to us making it across to Kyrsull.

We stand at your back, and though we face down Myconids we are prepared to work with you in combating the Legion of Darkness. We await knowledge of your plans in the coming seasons.

Grand Voice Sylas of the first Kyrsull Legion


To the Myconids:

The letter is left on a cart that is enchanted to wander down the ruined streets of Fromian Territory.


It’s clear that one of us has a Voice in our head saying the wrong thing. Unfortunate that none of the bodies you leave will be able to be saved.


To the Astral Collective:

If you are planning on standing against the evils of the world, we would request that you stand against the myconids in the upcoming days. It seems that the Brotherhood of sin is rather pre-occupied with being a smouldering crater.

Grand Voice Khal.

PS. Sounds lovely.


To the Brotherhood of Sin:

You know I never thought I would say this, but demons and devils look rather good in white and gold. Just goes to show that all can be saved with a little persuasion.

Grand Voice Hybert


To the Pillar of Wisdom

Dearest Scholars of the Pillar.

My name is Grand Voice Jeleva of the Church of the Truth Speaker. We have not communicated in the past seasons, as I believe that both of us were occupied with personal endeavours.

I am writing for a suggestion of a project. The Myconid hordes that are spreading across the middle of Kyrsull have very interesting biological strategies of converting their enemies into allies through fungal infection. I imagine that the Church is going to get a wonderful first hand look at the war the Myconids work in the coming seasons. With that I bring a request.

If you have learned enough about the Necromancers and how their horrors against life function, perhaps working with the Church of acquire some myconid corpses will be worth your esteemed study and time. If this is not the case, I will not reach out unless I have a different hypothesis and experiment to pitch.

Your Eternal Student,

Grand Voice Jeleva.


To Khasal:

We believe we have kept our promise of restoring some of your honour. Though we cannot fully remove ourselves from the war, from this point on we will be taking on a support role more than anything else.

If you require resources for the coming days, we are willing and happy to help.

Grand Voice Sylas, of the First Kyrsull Legion


To the Dwarves:


King Wildhammer,

I am unsure of the letter to write you as the smoke clears on Rivaness. I want to be congratulate you on a successful campaign and express sorrow for the people lost in a callus invasion of your homeland.

I know not the words to say, but we will have a drink of honour for your warriors when we meet this coming season, wherever it may be. I will bring something strong for the occasion.

Your Friend, Grand Voice Khal



To the Templars;


Thank you for your help in our success! Shortly after we reached out to you, we were reached out to behind closed doors about the third part of the artifact. We have seen its wonderful effect on the Northern Half of Kyrsull, though somewhat soured by the traps that had been laid in that land.

Though it may not have been the exact result we were expecting, you were integral to assembling an Artifact, and we are appreciative of your reasonable price. As compared to the other mission we needed to complete for the third piece (Which injured both myself and Grand Voice Myra)


We are in your debt, may your light ever burn bright.

Grand Voice Dawn



To the Ironfang Republic


It seems we have gotten some revenge for your troops in the past seasons. Wonderful work around the continent captains. Your hellforged legions are impressive.

I look forward to speaking with you later this season with the collective.

Grand Voice Khal



To the Legion of Balance:

So it continues then. Shame.

Grand Voice Sylas of the first Kyrsull Legion

[n0ble]

Biomass. You jest to hide the pain of loss. Clearly the Legion & Shemesh did not sting you enough to stay away. Should you wish to bleed yourself of the few best and brightest you possess before facing the Legion, inform me and I will gut you as you pass through. But I am not an unreasonable fungi. Mine is not an unreasonable voice. An honest voice, even. Let this stand as a truth, spoken as one, not your discordent chorus. Let me be the vector for your exodus and the Legions...digestion.


Willing to haggle for passage through my territories. It would certainly save you from a slugfest with me on your way to the Legion. What I'm offering:
- free and safe passage through my borders to attack the Legion.
- willing to allow for [12] or [7] but not both to be settled by the Church of Truth. If you decide on [7] I'm willing to help explore the area in between [7] and [61] with my adventurers. If you want [12] I can do the same with the mountain passes that connect [12] and [21]

What I want:
- Use of 8 Econ or magic. One or the other.

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 7
Reputation 7

https://i.ibb.co/Y7BvPV3/Goblins.jpg


Devil Hunters

"Come on jarhead, hop-along now!" The chorus of hissing laughter that accompanied Lander's comment was humiliation enough, but the implicit jibe at both his name and his gait were just unfairly personal. It wasn't like anyone else in his past cohort had walked away from the pale fire bomb they'd used to kill that glabrezu. Jar had had to give up a perfectly good tool-belt as well as a good chunk of his left leg to crawl out of that one. At least mage healing could mostly fix the leg - but you never knew when you'd need a good set of adamantine shears.

Well, soon it would be time to put Lander and the other fresh meat to the test. The orders had come down from on high: tonight they were hitting Xanur, Hell's Herald. He was one of Izoran's top lieutenants in his fiendish legions, and considered a high value target by both Oprak and the Collective. Thanks to the right divination and teleportation magic, the hunters had come to the Broken Shore with the instructions to simply do what they did best.

It was knife work that needed doing tonight, and there was no better than the Ear-Taker tribe. Well, Jar amended inwardly, perhaps no better in Oprak. But wait, there were always the Night Skulkers. And he couldn't forget the Quick Cleavers. The third best, then - he could settle for third best.

Signalling Lander and his group to take the long route along the western roofs, Jar began to crawl along the belfry wall that would take him to the courtyard overlook. As he moved, he took great pains to avoid the broken circle of runes atop the spire - let it not be said that the mages of Khasal had been discriminate in their infusion of magic with literally any artistic discipline, including architecture - and pointed out the hazard to the scouts that had fallen in behind him. They followed his every footstep, clambering over the stone with naught a sound.

Reaching his desired vantage point, Jar hunched as small as he could beneath the railing and got a good look at his target. The devils had turned the courtyard into a fortified encampment, including pits, palisades, and what looked like repositories of oil that they could light with their magics. He counted over a dozen bearded devil guards. Unfortunately, these fiends could see in the dark even better than Jar and his kin, so more... creative solutions had been necessary to obfuscate their approach. Two full patrols already lay dead in their team's wake.

"Okay, huddle up," he beckoned the others. Longears and Overbite had already pulled out their flatbows, loaded with cold iron bolts as per the armory's directive. "We're going to need to move fast. Once Lander's people are in position to take out a few of the guards, we can lure out Xanur when he comes to figure out why his guys are dying. Everyone ready?"

After a chorus of nods, Jar let his people get set up before settling in to wait. His little heart slowed as he breathed in and out. Now was the time. The first bolts rained down exactly on cue, even as the enemy was moving While three bearded devils were downed in a matter of seconds, the rest of the camp sprang into action. Devils appeared from the shadows along the ramparts, in the midst of the strike teams. It was quick butchery after that, Lander and his cave-mates bleating like goats as they were cut down.

Well, the proximity had certainly been a risk - it'd serve them right calling him jarhead anyhow.

The next thing he knew, Jar found himself turning and running down a nearby hallway as fast as his stubby little legs could take him, towards the chamber at the heart of the complex. Behind him, he could hear the roars of the fiends as they tore apart his brothers and arms. He couldn't cry for his fallen brothers - goblins did not, as a rule, have tear ducts - but he had to admire their tenacity in the face of a larger, stronger foe. It was the goblin way, to die honorably so that your superior officer could flee. He'd pray for their souls, should he live through the day.

As he turned the corner, Jar was forced to consider that such a prospect would be improbable at best. There, in the center of the corridor, stood a huge nine foot figure covered in horns and plate armor. Molten yellow slit eyes glared down at him balefully, as it wielded a halberd that looked to be nearly twice as long as he was tall. Hell's Herald had arrived. Xanur let out a deep chuckle that lingered in the darkness between the stone.

"Heh. Your Republic would send gnats like you to kill me? Do you even know who I am?"

Jar, after pausing to catch his breath, folded his back into a servile bow. "Of course, great one. You are Hell's Herald, one of the finest executioners of the lower planes. Truly, it is an honor to try and kill you today. In fact, I wager that you could -" Alas, Jar did not finish his sentence, for he was already diving for a crack in the adjacent wall that looked big enough for him to crawl through. He felt the thinning of air behind him as the blade of the enchanted halberd came down, followed swiftly by the thunderous cracking of rock.

Pushing his twisted body through the passage as quickly as he could, Jar eventually emerged in another wide space. This chamber was not a courtyard, although the stained glass ceiling had been cracked in many places, revealing a grey sky above. Soot-stained marble formed a wide circle around the middle of the hall, with only a single huge pair of double doors to the south. Only one way in or out - a very specific design.

Jar had perhaps ten seconds of respite before the doors crashed open, revealing his pursuer. Xanur strode into the chamber, flanked by the remnants of his honor guard. The horned devil pushed into the middle of the ring at the heart of the chamber. Jar did not move as the three devils slowly surrounded him. There was nowhere left to hide.

"It was a clever attempt, but you cannot outrun me, goblin. My essence is of Hell; I am everywhere at once. Your masters were fools to send you to this place to die. Your torment will not be swift, and you will find yourself wishing for the end before long."

... twenty six... Jar's face split into a savage grin. "You're right, of course; there was no way we were ever going to outrun you. But in all that teleporting around and killing all these people, you made one crucial mistake. Would you like to know what it is?"

"Enlighten me."

"You didn't get a tour guide." It was at that very moment that the latent runes in the chamber's floor began to emit a deep violet glow. Khasal had afforded his people with coordinates of their summoning circles, where they bound extradimensional entities into their service. Most of the sites were inactive without a mage on hand to use them... but it turned out that tasking sorcerers to link up and activate them remotely wasn't that hard. Within seconds, both Xanur and his guards were doubled over in pain, chains of coruscating purple energy binding them in place. They were helpless.

Jar had to admit that he enjoyed the look of sudden panic in the devil's eyes maybe a bit too much as he sauntered to a good position and pulled out his flatbow. Winching the lever back and loading the cold iron projectile took a moment, but he had all the time in the world. In the end, it took six bolts for Xanur to stop moving, and three apiece for each of his friends. He made sure to collect the commensurate ears for his trouble on his way out of the room. He had to live up to the tribal name, and what better recruitment strategy for younglings then showing off some trophies? He broke out into a low whistle as he began the long trek back to the command post.

It was going to be a good week after all.


Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

Lieutenant Eygara - formerly Blade-Peer of the Fourth Class - stared out at the forest of masts on the horizon, and wondered when she would see the Cinder Spire again.

The months that had followed her failure with the pilgrims of Shemesh had been tumultuous, and yet she had risen beyond what she had thought capable. After the summit had ended, her title had been stripped and she had been reassigned to run a training camp - a dishonor to most, but Eygara had taken it in stride. What better way to earn her way back into the good graces of the Council of Clans than to prove her excellence? And prove it she had; while she was hardly a master, her skills at combat in what was already being called the 'Immortal Style' had made her a passable adept at teaching young goblins how to wield a blade. Word of her name had reached Oprak, and she had risen in rank to become a sergeant under the new organizational structure.

Then the news came that the full armies of the Republic were gathering for a march to war. The Brotherhood of Sin had attacked a state that Oprak had deemed friendly, and in the assault thousands of goblins had been killed. The answer was as ferocious as it was unanimous: thousands of souls from across Rivaness swarmed the Republic's recruitment offices. As the officials in Oprak turned their coin towards equipping their new forces, they found that their ranks were filling with humans, dwarves, and other races as well as goblins. The pacts that the Republic had struck with the nations of their home continent were finally bearing fruit. In that wave of fervor, Eygara had been promoted to Lieutenant and placed in charge of a division of the new Third Legion.

Stories of the legendary First Legion - nicknamed 'Hellforged' - had inspired others to take up arms in one of the four current legions. Each body was purpose-fit to a different task, but they were all professional armies. At their hearts, each legion comprised of thousands of well-armed and trained hobgoblin soldiers, but that was no longer the extent of them. Great engines of war had been raised, as well as auxiliary units (both monstrous and otherwise). Harpy regiments, minotaur berserker squadrons, and the aforementioned human support teams comprised a healthy percentage of the Republic's available forces.

It had brought them here, to Beauvalais Island. The island's strategic placement had made it a perfect location for a naval base, and the fleet that Eygara now stared at was the largest assembly of such that she had ever seen before. Granted, the Republic was hardly a naval power - more than half of the vessels in the fleet were little more than troop transports - but she shivered when she imagined the host that was gathering under her country's banner. The red and silver knife and stars of Oprak now stood tall under General Azaersi's personal banner - the war hawk - atop the battlements of Fort Beauvalais. It was enough to make any soldier stand a little bit taller.

"Lieutenant? Are you still with us?" Her escort - a naga by the name of Zyn'era - had been explaining the local aquaflora and fauna. Eygara was hardly an expert on marine monsters, though she trusted that she could be called upon to fight or die well against a few.

"Of course, Magister. Please continue." Following the naga along the pier, Eygara forced herself to listen to the particulars and hazards of the journey to come. Knowing the dangers ahead was half of being a commanding officer, and she had a responsibility to her new post to learn as much as she could.

There would be time for reflection after the war was won.


Dearest Captain Goldfinder,

Your fiend-sponsored invasion of our peaceful continent of Rivaness has spoken volumes more than any words ever could. It is clear now to the Council of Clans that you no longer bear any good intention towards either the Ironfang Republic or its ally, the Kingdom of Khazn Durn. We have given you numerous chances to turn back from this path of self-destruction, and yet you heeded not our warnings. Instead, you have intertwined yourselves even further in the affairs of the sires of hell and its neighbors. Even as we will cut out the rot of the Brotherhood from this world, know that a chance may be offered to you and yours to avoid annihilation in the future. That being said, it is clear that your people have not yet learned how to fight a just war.

Therefore, it is with the heaviest of hearts that the Ironfang Republic must now declare itself opposed to you. As the dwarves march against you, so too do our soldiers. You may expect an armed reply to the question of morality before too long. We apologize in advance for the deaths that are to come, both on our side and your own.

With our greatest regrets,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic

As of this moment, the Ironfang Republic is at war with Silvermist as well as the Brotherhood of Sin. While we have made a vow to fight the fiends until they are completely destroyed, you may treat with us in the future in order to revisit the declaration.
Dearest allies,

The Republic accepts the invitation to the Tetrahedron as a matter of course. For the sake of consistency, the same emissary who has treated with you will continue to do so, for as long as I am needed with the Council of Clans here in Oprak and our General is of more use at the head of our armies. He and his delegation shall pass the border into the Collective's territory within the week, and I have been instructed to pass along that he is looking forward to sitting down to discuss the current situation with you.

Best regards,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic
Dearest Maestro of Fallen Stars,

The Ironfang Republic would like to congratulate you for actions taken against the pernicious Brotherhood of Sin! Our reports indicate that the operation was a rousing success - to say their armies are decimated would be something of an understatement. Now it is only a matter of pressing the attack and finishing the job, so that no fiends can rise to threaten you or anyone else again. To that end, the Council of Clans has a proposition for you.

As recent acquisitions both at home and abroad have been fortunate for us, the Republic finds itself within its power to make what we believe to be a mutually advantageous trade. There is a mage's guild in the Freeport of Vallenor on our shores that has expressed desire to lend its support to the cause of Khasal. Word of your artists and intellectuals has traveled far, it seems. We would be happy sending them to join your own ranks, in exchange for representational power and ambassadors from your great city to aid in our conquests. If this agreement is amenable to you, please do not hesitate to reply.

Sincerely,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic

I am proposing a standing trade of [2 MAG] from me for [2 REP] from you, starting this turn. Both of us can use those stats better than the other.

[Writtensanity]

The loss was sadly not ours, but a friend new to this world. Incorporeal and likely not of interest to you considering that.

Your deal is interesting, though we have no want to coming through your lands in order to reach the Legion, the further we stay away from one another, the better, as it means no people of the Church are being consumed.

We are willing to negotiate to protect the peoples of the Church.

Enclosed is a counter offer.



The Church is Offering:

- No Open Borders Needed (We can sail across the lake to the Legion from 4)
- Territory 7 to be taken by the Church (On turn 4 or 5)
- Territory 12 to be taken by the Combine. (On turn 4 or 5)
- The Combine does not need to use its adventuring to make paths.
The Church is offering 6 Temp ECON for the guarantee that no harm will come to members of the Church from the Combine and no hard will come to the Combine from the Church in the coming seasons (Contract ends start of turn 5)

Additionally in the note there is a marking of tentative battle plans. The Church is looking at attacking 14 in the coming seasons to cut the Legion of Balance off from continuing their campaign into Shemesh. This would leave the Combine able to consume the Legion Through 61 or across the lake to 13.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Church of the Truth Speaker

The messenger that had to travel to the Church of the Truth Speaker has to travel far less than before, which is bound to make communication easier. Unlike the previous season, this pilgrim and the others that move to the various nations with messengers, do not seem to suffer from the same type of exhaustion or dishoveled appearance as before. Only the everpresent specks of desert sand are dragged along the desert people of the Theocracy of Shemesh. Journeying to the Church of the Truth Speaker is the familiar face of a female pilgrim.

“Greetings, I am Nebtise from the Theocracy of Shemesh. I have come to bring a message to Grand Voice Sylas of the first Kyrsull Legion, or whoever will speak with me on behalf of the Church of the Truth Speaker.”

When she is led to either Grand Voice Sylas or another representative, Nebtise kneels down before the person, looking politely to their face. “Greetings, I am Nebtise from the Theocracy of Shemesh. I have come to bring you our deep gratitude for arriving and wishing to aid the Light of Shemesh in the time to come. The Theocracy of Shemesh looks forward to cooperate with the Church of the Truth Speaker. May Light and Voice banish the Darkness.”

“The Theocracy of Shemesh will accept any aid the Church of the Truth Speaker can give against the Legion of Darkness, in any fashion.”

“The plight you find yourself in is visible, with enemies at several places. I do not know where you wish to send your forces, but the Theocracy of Shemesh hopes you will send as much as you can spare to combat the Darkness.”

“It is no secret that the Theocracy of Shemesh fares poorly in offensive capabilities both in arms (Military) and word (Reputation), with neither having been able to stop the Legion of Darkness’ advance through the Theocracy of Shemesh in the past season. To banish the darkness and reclaim the territories the Legion took is a feat that lies far outside both the capability as well as strategic expertise of the Theocracy of Shemesh, therefore we hope that the Church of the Truth Speaker will offer help, both in forces as well as strategic plans. Whether it is best to defend or attack with arms and word, and where to attack, our people look to you for strategic expertise.”

Nebtise then clasps her hands before her, her hands and arms tensed as she pleadingly looks at the person before her. “I beg of you, let us work together in matters of faith. I, we, believe with the strength of the desert summer’s heat, with radiance as bright as Shemesh, that by cooperating in Faith (Morale), we can bring Light and Voice to banish Darkness! To weaken the Legion! With your support, the Theocracy of Shemesh will have everyone not fighting pour in all their prayer, their faith, to weaken Darkness! Join your prayer, your Word, your Chorus, with our prayers, and with Light and Voice we will drive back the strength of Darkness! Please, I beg of you, let our prayers be in harmony, let our Faith be intertwined to show that the Darkness is not a path to be followed!”

(OOC: Asking you for plans involving defending/taking territories. Begging, begging, for all your Morale to help fight the Legion of Darkness.)

Public message to the Ironfang Republic, the Astral Collective, Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn, the Free People of Khasal, the Pillar of Wisdom, the Templars of Our Burning Saviour, the City of Wraiths

A pilgrim arrives, robe in order, hair done, washed, and generally an effort seems to have been made to be representable. It’s hopefully the attempt that counts, because while far more representable than last season, it is obvious these are still messengers who have travelled a long way. The colour of the robe has dimmed with use and while there are no tears, or they are repaired, and the robe was likely new before starting the journey, it has seen the use of travelling through all kinds of weathers, from desert storm to rain and gust.

Each of them carries a papyrus scroll that confirms who they are, but in the language used it is obvious that the Theocracy of Shemesh is unused to bureaucracies such as present in for example the Ironfang Republic. It also includes way too many references to the Light of Shemesh, radiance, illuminance and other references to Light and Shemesh, clearly showing that it was written by devout priests instead of dedicated bureaucrats.

With a short prayer beforehand, they approach the various representatives of the nations and introduce themselves.

To the Ironfang Republic, a male pilgrim. “Greetings, I am Pasena from the Theocracy of Shemesh.”

To the Astral Collective, a female pilgrim. “Greetings, I am Tenwere from the Theocracy of Shemesh.”

To the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn, a male pilgrim. “Greetings, I am Hotisha from the Theocracy of Shemesh.”

To the Free People of Khasal, a female pilgrim. “Greetings, I am Mosatny rom the Theocracy of Shemesh.”

To the Pillar of Wisdom, a male pilgrim. “Greetings, I am Samenpe from the Theocracy of Shemesh.”

To the Templars of Our Burning Saviour, a female pilgrim. “Greetings, I am Karety from the Theocracy of Shemesh.”

To the City of Wraiths, a male pilgrim. “Greetings, I am Nehapefrom the Theocracy of Shemesh.”

They will ask to deliver their message to the proper representatives, where they will reintroduce themselves, before kneeling down, clasping their hands and pleading.

“Please, please, I beg of you, the Darkness consumes all, lend the Theocracy of Shemesh your prayer so that we may banish the Darkness from Hanrui. We know there is much danger afoot, and that you have your own problems, your own enemies, yet I beg of you for whatever help you can spare. I beg of you for aid against the Legion of Darkness!”

Afterwards, the pilgrim will tell of horrific stories about the Legion of Darkness, how they murder the people of the Theocracy of Shemesh, commit horrible atrocities and burn and ransack villages, towns, cities. An all consuming darkness that threatens all that is light. That brings nightmares and foul savagery wherever it goes. A force of evil, of utter Darkness. Each of them will repeat their plea in earnest, begging for help.

(OOC: The Theocracy of Shemesh once again claims the Legion of Balance has 0 Reputation. Begging, begging for whatever Morale you can spare, to be used to help fight the Legion of Darkness.)

[LimSindull]

Silvermist

Our story opens on the ocean, blue waves rock the boat gently back and forth. Ahead, the mist quickly approaches, for this is where home is to Grock. Long was his trip to and from the Ironfang, he missed the adventure of a lifetime. Untold treasure was found, something that would be of great significance to the possible ally Ironfang.

The boat pulls into the cove enough and young Grock leaps into the water! He swims ahead of rowboats and lands on the shore. There’s no time for him to waste, for there’s plenty of treasure to take. With gusto and pep, Grock begins the next step.

Deep in the heart of Kyrsull, Grock trekked alone through the ancient caverns. Monsters waited around every corner, but even beholders were no match for Grocks might. In the light of his blade, letters were made. For monsters above needed vanquishing. A request sent out for help in a bout, to the Republic for fighting and trade.

But oh, what a shame . Grock was betrayed. “I told you it was pointless.” His father’s point was made. “There is but one good use for us in this land. What this world needs is a Hero with sword in hand.”

Off again Grock delved deep in a cave. Alone, with abominations to fight and gold to be made. He wandered far into the tunnels with no light, save that of his balde. It was slow going for our Hero Grock ahd to tread carefully. Traps were laid all around, for the monsters here cared not for floors. They hovered and floated.

Finally, he found one feasting on giant spiders and rats. But its eye stalks saw Grock. Quick, he dove behind what used to be a wall, a second later and the ray would have gotten him instead. His heart raced, his blood boiled. He knew that this was it.

With the agility of a displacer beast, with the strength of a tarrasque, Grock leaped forward and shoved his sword into the eye of the beholder. There was only a small groan as it fell to the floor. He drug it from its lair and back to camp.
Behold, camp was in turmoil, a great Kraken had been awakened. Grock tossed the beholder aside. He charged down to the sea, and lo there, what did he see? A great beast had come forth. He wasted no time in charging ahead of the men.

“To Grock! To Grock!” They called.

The Krakens might knew no bounds. But a match for Grock could not be found. He swam out against the current as it thrashed and devoured. Grock latched onto a tentacle and heaved itself onto the wretched beast. He climbed the trashing appendage. He clung to it for life as he was pulled and twisted, but he made it to the base.

Grock plunged his sword deep into the beast. He cut wide and climbed inside. He dug and ate his way to the center of the beast and cut into the Kraken’s beating heart. The blood flowed in such great quantities that Grock was washed out of the beast and back to the sea.

And so it stood that Silvermist was free.

From that monster. But just wait for act three.


My apologies, I did not know that you were the ruler of the whole of your Island. It was rude of me to preemptively attack those who have declared war on me. What a shame that you must now find yourself at war with your old ally for doing exactly as I have done.

I jest.

Hold no fear that I hold you in such regards as to be above a hypocrite.

An annoying side effect of war is that territories are threatened on both sides of the conflict. Your absence from the art of warfare makes it understandable that you might not understand this concept. It is vastly different from the conquering and enslavement of free territories.

Tell me, how did the screams sound when your victims learned that they would meet your god now if not in the future?

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal


Khasal sang, and the song was death.

The hissing fire of a thousand funeral pyres was joined by the whistling of the furious and roiling wind which sustained them, and the hundreds upon hundreds of chimes and bells it coursed through, and the innumerable cymbals and flutes and drums played by those who had made them, and above all by the echoing, sibilant chorus of the City’s magisters and theurges.

The devils had turned the city into a slaughterhouse, human sacrifice on a massive scale.

The Army of Liberation had reclaimed it as a cry for vengeance, a bloody demand for merciless redress.

And these are two of the Abyss’ very favorite things.


The masses wailed and gnashed their teeth in grief, and those most overcome by passion threw themselves upon the prismatic flames, swiftly consumed by the fragrant and noxious smoke.

The smoke rose high into the air and refused to dissipate, the trail of each flame seeking its fellows and intertwining. The City was taken from warm spring day to airless and apocalyptic night as it blotted out the sun, roiling and sculpting itself into the most natural form.

A grand a terrible seven-winged wyrm. Askopar, the Harrowing Gale, the Scourge of Souls. His most terrible aspect, drawn halfway into reality, for just long enough to express himself upon the world.

With a joyous, musical roar that would have deafened any too close, he beat his insubstantial wings and tore himself from the ritual. In moments, he was beyond the horizon and across the sea, towards the prey he had been offered.

The first to fall were in ships laden with pillage and slaves taken from the dwarven lands, halfway back to Kyrsul and full of fiends eager to enjoy their ill-gotten spoils. Their ramshackle ships were swept and overturned by the sudden wind, and those slaves would be the first to enjoy the privilege of seeing a chain devil shriek in terror as the Scourge swept through them, separating essence from body and dragging their truest self into the storm, component and companion of the Titan’s ritual-body.

It was a brutal sort of enlightenment, and one visited freely upon the hundreds and thousands of Legion Devils and Arrow Demons and Barbazus who had thrown themselves onto the shores of Rivainess. It is, after all, one thing for the proud iconoclast or ascetic to forsake all worldly ties and possessions and make themselves a companion of the nomad’s went.

Quite another to have all your treasured loves and hatreds, cherished possessions and gruesome trophies, and all of yourself bound up in them, torn away from you in one violent motion. Left as insubstantial as the wind carrying you to the far corners of the earth, and far less powerful. Memory and passion bleeding out from all your souls open wounds, last shreds of identity constantly buffeted and on the verge of being overwhelmed by the raw sensation of the earth.

Violent death would allow any fiend worth the name to reform safe and sound, ready for the next campaign of atrocity. So instead, they have been given the world.

Forever.


Morale 2, You Can Almost Certainly Read Everything



The sealed envelope contained two letters, one clearly more recent than the other. The first reads

It saddens me to say that my younger brother has been killed by fiendish intrigue mere hours before he could have set foot in a liberated Khasal. Still, among his effects I found this letter, and having consulted his ciphers I find his ideas sound. Your aid in these past seasons will be remembered, and I hope the partnership you forged with him can continue beyond his passing.

May your flesh never be a prison,
Lia Misri, Beloved of the Architect, Weaver in Blood and Bone

The Second

To the Grand Duke of Death,

I must thank you again for your hospitality these past months of exile, and for your commitment to our mutual projects, whose results I, at least, continue to be amazed by. While I of course must spend some time aiding in the rebuilding and reorganization of my City, if you think that our mutual project remains productive, I would love to return to Nex, say on the 8th of the next month?

For myself, I would say that continuing to work on the same method as the previous months would result in pure profit, but given your position I can see that you might prefer to return to our original practice, and I would not oppose that in the slightest. What would you say?

Sincere Regards,
The People’s Friend, and Yours
The Esteemed Corin Letarra, Ambassador-in-Exile of the Free City of Khasal




Hail Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued,

The fiendish legions are burning in pyres and scattered to the ends of the earth, but the threat remains, and I will not sleep until he has been bound to a fate darker than his native hell. It gladdens me to know that your Republic is as resolute.

Your offer is fair, and your mages will be welcomes as students and witnesses to the remaking of Khasal, for as long as they care to remain.

-The Magnificent Vyas Araya, Maestro of Falling Stars, Captain-General of the Army of Liberation




Hail to the Princes of the Earth!

In the course of the current war, my dear friend of countryman, the Esteemed Friend of the People, has been murdered in his bed by fiendish intrigue. And to compound the tragedy, he has no known heirs, and the Assembly will take some months to dispose of his estates.

But his favoured dagger he left to me, and it saddens me to say that I cannot truly use it. And so I will dispose of it how he would have wanted, and sell it to the highest bidder.



I’ve got a +1 Dagger of Assassination without much use for it, and am offering it in exchange for any of the following

+1 Military Item
5 Temp Econ
Use of 5 Magic, Military or Espionage for a turn
Your Best Offer

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg



To the most esteemed Grand Voice Dawn,

We have heard reports of the wondrous happenings in your lands. His Templars wish to congratulate you on your success; completing a lost, splintered artifact is no small deed.

Know that there is no debt, for you paid our price, and no use would be had for the tree to stay apart. Know also that we consider the Church of the Truth Speaker partners in cooperation, and we believe there will be many more opportunities in our future to work for our mutual benefit.


Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour



In the Citadel of Perseverance

Karety was, for a long time, left standing in a hall with great dark arches, on the cold marble floor. Her papyrus scroll was obviously studied very thoroughly, before the Templars decided what to do with her.

After some time, an Oracai came into the hall, in red, intricately embroidered robes, wearing a golden breastplate and a scimitar at his side. His armour and face bore many scars, and the brand marks of dedication.

He looked down upon her as she knelt, listening and judging.

"Who are you?" he spoke, "And what are you going to do?"
He took a step forward, now almost standing too close for comfort for the kneeling woman.
"You do not work, you pray. You do not improve, you pray. You do not fight, you pray. You are weak, and you yourselves are the architects of your weakness. You do not realise that your god smothers you with his commandments. Now you expect others to do your work?" He shook his head, almost as if in disbelief.

"The followers of Shemesh seem to have the souls of slaves. Perhaps it is time for you to accept your natural place in the world."
He looked down at Karety, and he obviously expected an answer.



To the most esteemed King Thurgin Wildhammer,

welcome to the lands known to some as Kyrsull. His Templars wish to congratulate you on your conquest, and to thank you for ridding us of that dreadful realm of dishonourable cutthroats bordering our lands. We have heard of the honour of the dwarves and know you will be more agreeable neighbors for Our Saviour's Crusade.
Know that we have no aspirations to the lands west of Old Balam.
Know also that we look forward to cooperation and trade.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour



Templar forces are spotted preparing a campaign to the northern lands.

I am going to take territory 12 as per our deal. I assume it still stands, of course.

[Writtensanity]

"You know," Blackburn started to his companion on guard duty, "it's not too far 'cross the border if we wanna go see that Grock show when we're on leave."

"I don't really see the point," Mira responded. Blackburn frowned, ever since he'd switched up his shift he'd been missing Holbook and Mira saying no to everything he offered wasn't helping.

"Well, why not? Hangin' out after work would be a way to give us somethin' to talk about during the long shift,"

"I haven't heard good reviews," Mira pointed out and shook her gauntlet, "I've heard that without a third act the play is unsatisfactory." Blackburn could hear her shrug as her armor clanked. "Plus there are lots of things I would like to talk about.

"The wars?" Blackburn asked.

"Naturally," she answered.

"And you never wanna talk 'bout anything else?" he pressed.

"We are surrounded by enemies on all sides here in Kyrsull, I don't think there is a lot extra to talk about."

"Yeah yeah," Blackburn frowned under his helmet and ended the conversation with his silence. It had been three weeks since the full surrender of Daitoii to the Church and he was one of the few people he knew who wasn't hearing the Voice. Sure, he'd heard good things about Whispers in their heads but there wasn't a Voice in his and- well damn. Everyone who had that Voice in their head seemed to know exactly what they wanted and needed all the time. They were organized, they didn't wanna laugh and go see a bad play when they could have a drink at the fort tavern because 'Only one of those breeds comraderies'.

Blackburn sighed, he was bein' mean again. He really only had a problem with Mira, not everyone. Mom had always told him to never take out your anger on people who didn't deserve it. Plus, it wasn't like Mira deserved it either, she was just straight laced as a pastor and he still wasn't.

"Would you like to leave early tonight?" Mira asked.

"What?" Blackburn answered.

"She's telling me you're stressed. We would be fine for the next half hour if you take a break and go join whoever you want to join," Mira elaborated, "my treat."

"Uh I-" Blackburn wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. That being said he wasn't about to say no to getting a drink early with the lads off fort. "Sure thing."




We are more than familiar with war. The Church has showed the Voice to mightier nations than a rag-tag group of adventurers propped up by Demons. I am just not personally well versed in the tactic of claiming land an strait away while your capital stands on the edge of destruction from foreign armies.

We try to find peaceful solutions where possible, and we think the only one at this point is for you to surrender to the coalition of the Free City, the Astral Collective, and the Dwarves, there does not seem to be much of a future with the devils.

As for the screams? I have heard many in my day, but knowing that they will hear the Voice in a moment means I don't think about them.

Grand Voice Sylas.






We cannot discuss these sensitive matters in a public forum. WE request a more subtle form of communication of literal battle plans.



Either commit a VIP or use that ~10000 MOR to hide some messages from the legion if you want the wartime conversation to continue.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Templars of Our Burning Saviour

“I am Karety. My work is everlasting, for each moment of the day I work in the Light and let my path me illuminated by Shemesh. Each day, I learn what might bring my closer to the Light, each day I work hard so I may be more radiant than before. With my torch, my lantern and my candle, I fight darkness at every turn, driving it away. I am strong, for I will walk the world with Shemesh with me, going where others give up out of thirst, hunger or heat. Shemesh does not command, Shemesh shows in Light.”

“I pray to Shemesh, so all may see the Light. I do not work a trade as others do who travel as me. I am no merchant, but pray, offering my faith to uplift the spirits of others, so we may all walk with a lighter step. I pray to Shemesh, so my path is illuminated ahead of me. I not develop skills and train as others do who travel as me. I am no sailor, but pray, offering my faith to let the light illuminate the path of others, so none of us may go astray. I pray to Shemesh, so I may be protected. I do not build forts as others do who travel as me. I am no legionnaire, but pray, offering my faith so others may be protected.”

“My natural place in the world is in the Light of Shemesh, wherever I may be.”

“Darkness consumes the Light, yet the Light will be stronger than Darkness, for where a single source of light Light may be extinguished, may be covered, may be taken away, Light in itself is forever more radiant than Darkness ever will be.”

“I beg for your help, so that this struggle against Darkness is shortened, so that you never need deal with the atrocities of the Legion of Darkness, so that Light, as cast by Shemesh, as cast by the Burning Saviour, will prevail over Darkness.”

Public message to the Church of the Truth Speaker

“Then let us not discuss.”

“I beg of you to offer your prayer to us to fight the Legion of Darkness.”

Nebtise then rises once more.

“Hereby, the Theocracy of Shemesh declares the Church of the Truth Speaker to be its friend, our home is your home. Our borders are open to the Church of the Truth Speaker. May you travel safely in the Light of Shemesh.”

“We have heard of a strange new forest in Permedj Beach (territory 55), which is affiliated to you? Whatever dwells there, the Theocracy of Shemesh declares its borders open to it. May the travels be safely in the Light of Shemesh.”

“I will listen and bring your command to the Theocracy of Shemesh. Our armies and diplomats are at your disposal, for you to see fit to attack or defend. We rely on your expertise for other instructions.”

(OOC: For as long as the Theocracy of Shemesh considers the Church of the Truth Speaker its friend, the Church may consider them allied for purposes of a joint Domination Victory and the Theocracy’s borders open. The Theocracy of Shemesh’ borders are open to whatever it is in Permedj Beach as well. For this turn, the Military and Reputation of the Theocracy of Shemesh are offered to the Church of the Truth Speaker. Still begging for morale support. For other instructions, you do the talking.)

Public message to whatever is in Permedj Beach

A female pilgrim arrives. “Greetings, I am Tati the Theocracy of Shemesh.”

The pilgrim will ask to deliver their message to the proper representatives, where they will reintroduce themselves.

“We have heard you are a friend of the Church of the Truth Speaker. Know that our borders are open to you, for as long as long as the Theocracy of Shemesh considers the Church of the Truth Speaker its friend.”

Then, the pilgrim kneels down, clasping her hands and pleading.

“Please, please, I beg of you, the Darkness consumes all, lend the Theocracy of Shemesh your prayer so that we may banish the Darkness from Hanrui. We know there is much danger afoot, and that you have your own problems, your own enemies, yet I beg of you for whatever help you can spare. I beg of you for aid against the Legion of Darkness!”

Afterwards, the pilgrim will tell of horrific stories about the Legion of Darkness, how they murder the people of the Theocracy of Shemesh, commit horrible atrocities and burn and ransack villages, towns, cities. An all consuming darkness that threatens all that is light. That brings nightmares and foul savagery wherever it goes. A force of evil, of utter Darkness. The plea will be repeated in earnest, begging for help.

(OOC: Begging, begging for whatever Morale you can spare, to be used to help fight the Legion of Balance.)

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg

In the Citadel of Perseverance, with the Theocracy of Shemesh (please treat as MOR 8 inplay)

"You spout nothing but platitudes. Learn that prayers are worth nothing without action." the Cleric replied with disdain. "Look around you. Shemesh's light is dying, swallowed by the darkness. You do nothing but beg. Shall I fetch the purple silks for you? Aren't you embarrassed by your weakness? Have you no Pride? No Honour?"

His voice grew louder with each word; the Oracai opened his clawed fist and slapped the Pilgrim across her face, hard, so that she fell to the floor.

"Is your cause worth fighting?"

He took a step back, opened his arms wide, lowered his scarred head and laid his eyes upon her face, his expression an open challenge.

"Show us some spirit, pilgrim! Stand up and FIGHT!"




Greetings.

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour lay claim on the lands to our Northwest (12), as it is a natural part of Our Saviour's crusade's territory.


Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

In the Citadel of Preserverance of the Templars of Our Burning Saviour

The pilgrim looks sad as the cleric mentions Shemesh’ light is dying, but looks puzzled at the ference of purple silks. When Karety was slapped hard across the face, she had not seen it coming, and she fell by the power of the blow. She arose from the ground. If she was in pain, she was not showing. Her eyes met that of the Oracai.

“I have Shemesh. I am embarrassed I cannot do more to fight the darkness, but I follow the Light on the path towards you.”

As the vulture-like figure before her spurred her to action, issued his challenge, he could see the determination in Karety’s eyes, dedicated to Shemesh.

“If that is what you wish.”

Karety took a deep breath and looked towards the ceiling. “Shemesh illuminates. Shemesh radiates. Shemesh protects.” She clenched her hands into fists, holding her arms before her. She took a restful pose, standing straight as if meditating, lacking the balance of a proper combat stance. Taking another breath, she moved forward, her eyes flaring with dedication, trying to punch the Oracai.

Yet in her moves, it was obvious that she had no combat training, let alone experience. Throwing a punch forward, too soon, unbalanced, it was easy to dodge, or even take the blow and feel the lack of the person throwing the punch being able to use their body to bring strength to bear. Karety was a commoner in the field of combat, and it showed. She knew she had no chance, having seen the scars upon her opponents face, his claws visible. Yet, she threw herself in with dedication, her cause worth fighting for.

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour


In the Citadel of Perseverance, with the Theocracy of Shemesh (please treat as MOR 8 inplay)

The Oracai took the blow without any reaction - he had expected that the pilgrim had next to no combat experience. Grabbing her throat, he stopped her attack in its tracks. He raised his other hand, and the plodding of several pairs of bare feet was heard as a group of dark elf women in purple silks moved into the hall, carrying a small cask of burning coals with an iron poking out. The slaves put it down next to the Oracai, who then let go of the pilgrim.

"Very well." the Cleric spoke, his voice now calm. "There is still hope your Theocracy is as dedicated as its servants. Bring this as a message to the Faithful of Shemesh - find your courage, strike back at your enemies, and prove that you are worthy of saving."

The Oracai took the hot iron from the cask, and brought it before Karety's face.
"Are you willing?"

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

In the Citadel of Preserverance of the Templars of Our Burning Saviour

As the Oracai grabbed Karety’s throat, she gasped but did not relent, offering a fierce stare. When he let go of her, she gasped for air and coughed, but then looked at him with the same fierce stare and watched the scene before her unfolded. With strength in her face, Karety spoke, unyielding as she looked at the Oracai.

“I am willing to carry your message in the Light to the Faithful of Shemesh.”

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal

Morale 2, so everyone in CC’d


Hail to Sylas, and that which speaks through her,

Your efforts these past months will be remembered, and it is no shame to say that three wars are enough to occupy yourself with. My own forces and those of the City should prove worthy of cleansing the devils from Hanrui, and the aid of the Republic it is over but for the marching.

I hope the fiends your Voice has bound prove themselves useful.

May your dreams burn themselves unto the world,
The Magnificent Vyas Asraya, Maestro of Falling Stars, Captain-General of the Army of Liberation





The pilgrim is, after a good deal of confusion and debate by those scouts who intercepted her, led through the ruins of Khasal to a grand plaza now repurposed as something between hospital, temple and laboratory. There, she is met by the Exalted Lia Misri, presently dressed in a marilith-skin dress and accompanied by what had at one point been one of Izoran’s favoured necromancers, and was now a tragic sort of lizard-dog, its cancerous and rupturing flesh a convenient source of vital biomass.

The elven fleshcrafter listens with a vague sort of interest to Mosatny’s tales of woe, a slight smile coming across her face at all the lurid descriptions of horrific atrocities, before finally responding

“Does this seem a city well-placed to give charity, or I a woman inclined to do so? The Legion are legalist fanatics and a danger to all within their reach, but they are avowedly not my enemy, of whom I already have far too many to allow empty platitudes to move me to war. If they stay behind high mountains and exhaust themselves slaughtering nattering pilgrims, why should I not let them?”

She paused for a moment, tilting her head as she considered the pilgrim for a moment “-but I suppose at least a few of your number might be worth mourning, if the great, useless mass of you has not succumbed to the elements and feral beasts. My City must be rebuilt, and I require acolytes and ritualists. Can you or your absentee god contribute to either cause?”





To High Priestess Vestis of House Ionlar,

Thank you for the hospitality, glad we could come to an informal sort of understanding. Busy for the moment, obviously, but hopefully I can host you here once the City looks like itself again.

Now, the reason I’m actually writing-some of the companies I’ve somehow ended up managing are unlikely to find anything to do with themselves these coming months. The City, meanwhile, dearly needs money or spells for reconstruction, or strong men (birds?) with swords to keep it from getting sacked again. I thought you might have the opposite sort of problem?

Anyway, thanks for the tea,
Atena

Basically offering a trade of 1 point of adv for 1 eco, mil or mag, this turn. Would also accept esp, come to think of it.

[Janwin]

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn

The invasion had gone well and had been successful. As the dwarves had hoped, much of the population of Silvermist's territory joined forces with the dwarves and overthrew their gnomish oppressors. Those who did not were easily defeated by the massive host of dwarven shields, crossbows and siege weapons.

Gradually, fliers continue to spread throughout the territory of Silvermist, and are eventually carried to other nations by merchant caravans.

https://i.imgur.com/opw1cgW.png

But somehow their fleet had managed to completely miss an opposing invasion fleet on their way across the ocean, and reports were now flowing in that the dwarven port had been sacked by demons.

When told of the enemy invasion, King Thurgin frowns. "Throw the bastards back int' the sea. Drown th' lot o' 'em."



To the friends of the Dwarves,

Now is not the best time for me to leave my capital. It would not display the appropriate level of resolve expected of a king. I am sending Forgemaster Kargrin Firehammer in my stead.

My apologies for not being able to attend in person.

King Thurgin Wildhammer

To Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess,

Greetings to you as well. The dwarves have no aspirations in Old Balam either, and we had planned to offer the territory to you had you not taken it this past season as a gesture of goodwill.

Our only purpose here is to deliver justice to those who have attacked our friends and allies after casting falsehoods.

We also look forward to future cooperation and trade with the Templars.

With Honor,
King Thurgin Wildhammer

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg

In the Citadel of Perseverance, with the Theocracy of Shemesh (please treat as MOR 8 inplay)

"So be it." The Cleric laid his clawed hand on her shoulder, and held her in place.
"Then let pain be your teacher, not your destruction."
Slowly, he brought the red-hot iron between them.

"That way lies salvation."

With a precise movement, he slightly cut her left cheek with the sharp iron stick, then pressed it down for a couple of seconds, holding the pilgrim firmly in his grasp, the expression around his beak unmoving, serene, even, as her flesh burned.

When he let go, he put the iron back into its cask.
"Leave now, and share this lesson with yours."

He turned away, and left Karety alone.




To Atena,

it was a pleasure and privilege to be your host, and the prospect of visiting Khasal once it is restored sounds delightful indeed.

Of course His Templars are willing to lend you help in restoring Khasal to its former glory. I have seen to it that a detachment of Veteran Clerics (ooc: 1 MAG) will board a vessel to your shores soon.

Our Saviour's Crusade is always in need of strong arms, and we could surely make use of them in one of our expeditions.

Glory to the Flame, and to sharing the next pot of tea in an arisen Khasal,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 7
Reputation 7

Dear faithful of Shemesh,

We have once more received one of your own pilgrims, who has opined at great length about the dangers of the Legion of Balance to your people in Kyrsull. Unfortunately, the Republic is neither prepared for or willing to discuss the matters of potentially attacking a foreign power in such a public forum - your pilgrim was hardly discreet in their approach to Oprak.

While the Republic's leadership is open to the idea of opposing the Legion of Balance, we should express to you that our nation is currently involved in a war against not one, but two powers on Kyrsull already. We expect to be largely engrossed in such a conflict for some time, and cannot promise any aid except for words and censure. All the same, we have pledged aid to our Rivanesi allies, among whom numbers the Church of the Truth Speaker, a group that we understand is currently running to your rescue. Should missives from you pass through their gates, I am confident that the Council of Clans would be more open to their contents.

Sincerely,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic
The missive arrives several weeks into the new season by way of ship from Fort Beauvalais [37]: it is a letter accompanied by a chest that is revealed to be full of silver and precious gems mined from the Crystalforge and beneath the Lantern Hills of Rivaness [1 temp ECO].

Dear High Priestess Vestis of House Ionlar,

It is my pleasure to write to you from Oprak. Although the Ironfang Republic has struck a non-aggression pact with your people, we have yet to truly exchange any form of business or tokens of friendship. That matter ends today, as the Council of Clans would like to extend to you a potential business opportunity.

It is our understanding that your forces mean to take [12] within the year, the better to secure the bounty therein. Such a prospect would be heartening for the Republic, as it presents you with a generous position on Kyrsull. Although our operations in the past months have been focused in the high northern valleys, a few of our scouts discovered an old fortress by the name of Castle Rabak at the head of a pass that leads from the territory you are about to conquer right into the heartlands controlled by the adventurers of Silvermist.

Simply put, negotiations with the adventurers have soured greatly over the past months. It is unfortunate, but they have acted rashly in several of our interactions and have proven unreliable, unruly sorts. The Republic prefers to deal with those who understand the meaning of order and promises kept - our alliance with the Dwarves of Khazn Durn and the Church of the Truth Speaker are testament to that worldview. It is our belief that the Templars are another such power, and we would like to be the first to offer you a blow at Silvermist's very foundations in the near future.

All we ask is that after you have secured your side of the passes and Castle Rabak, that you perhaps help our dwarven friends in... reminding the people of Kyrsull of the rule of law. To help sweeten the deal, we have sent a sample of our treasury, with a promise of more to come should events unfold in our favor. The Council of Clans has nothing but the utmost respect for your people, and wishes to continue to promote good relations with you in the future. We hope that you and your leaders feel the same way. Please do not hesitate to send your reply to me at your earliest convenience.

Sincerely,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic
Greetings, Tyrant of the Broken Shore,

Although I'm aware that the Secretary-General has already written to you and your people, I thought I might extend my own personal support. Now that the Brotherhood's armies have been wiped out from the face of these realms, it will be our pleasure to march to Kyrsull and take the fight to the remnants ourselves. I'd like to offer my own thanks as well, for your help in setting up our operations against the hordes these past few months. Our scout and sapper regiments could not have won the day without the coordination of your mage-circles.

I look forward to sharing a toast of victory with you in refurbished Khasal. When the threat has been dealt with, we may want to speak of a future where the people of your nation and my own are friends in truth, not just comrades in arms.

- General Azaersi
Dear confederates and de facto rulers of Nex,

Although our attentions have been set elsewhere, it is my duty to inform you as a representative of the Council of Clans that the goblin people of Oprak and our great nation are not unaware of the struggles that you two are currently undergoing. Although given the rather secretive nature of your respective areas of expertise have reduced information from Nex to a veritable crawl, it is our understanding that there is conflict between your nations. Past attempts on our part to expand our existing independent deals of non-interference with either of you into proper dealings have been rebuffed on the grounds of mutual exclusivity.

All the same, the Republic's quest for peace - or at least a temporary armistice - is undeterred. We believe that friendship between powers is more prosperous for all than conflict. As such, our people are prepared to offer our services as a... mediator of sorts, a neutral party with the eventual aim to broker peace between your nations. Our diplomats are currently engaged, but we would be prepared to sit down with both of you in the coming season to speak further of peace and its profits. Please feel free to reply to me in Oprak by spell or scroll at any time.

Sincerely,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic

While I realize that I am addressing an NPC nation and a current GM-controlled PC, I am still extending an offer for private representation via PM for during Turn 5. I hope that the player for the Wraiths, at least, will be back before the Turn 5 EoT.

[GameOfChampions]

Legion of Balance
Public
Rep 1

Lady Rivva Darkseeker scowls as she tries to rub away the headache beginning to form in her temples. These pilgrims were a pain to deal with, the Lady commands but their Lady did not have to deal with swarms of righteous pilgrims coming out of the woodwork everywhere in Legion territories. The attempted conversions, exaggeration of war crimes, begging and pleading to every nation that would gear them.

The One silver lining was that finally more worthy opponents had come to Kyrsull to fight, the Church finally deigning to come fight the war they had been challenged to. With the Church and the Dwarves here finally the rest of Riveness would be sure to follow. Still though, while the Legion needed to fight these wars they did not need to fight like unstoppable idiots. That was the job of the Brotherhood across the mountain. Rivva begins to pen messages to the nations of the world.

Nations of Hanrui,

The Theocracy would have you believe we are an unstoppable scourge to the world. That we would drown the world in darkness and snatch away all that is light. This merely shows their ignorance in matter beyond their own faith. We take part but not all we balance not destroy, we fight and we protect. We fight for Balance not for the destruction of all that is good, we would no more destroy a nation whole then we would abandon our goddess.

That Shemesh now beg from nations for aid when they were ready to sell all of you out to save themselves speaks truly of their character. Remember that when they beg for aid to 'fight the darkness' there is no fight among these pilgrims. Only the desperate need for survival and their own god before all else.

We have no more need with the Pilgrims now that the forces of Riveness have landed. Tend to your flocks and beg for Balance to be found, we are done with you. The next year may bring new war, but for now pray to your god in peace.

Lady Rivva Darkseeker
OOC: Legion has Rep 1. Legion is also ceasing hostilities with Shemesh for Turn 4 and 5, unless provoked, to focus on other forces of good now in reach.

Now for the good stuff. Rivva dips her quill into ink once more, more enthused then she had been for months.

To The Ironfang Republic, Pillar of Wisdom, Dwarves of Khazn Durn and the Astral Collective

We would meet you now in war, we see no give in your policies. Your forces fight for the side of good no matter how you portray yourselves. We would meet you on the battlefield of Kyrsull with honor and fight for Balance.

Now that you have landed we can finally meet you on the battlefield. If you are wiling to fight we will leave the battlefield out of the Theocracy of Shemsh for the next year (2 turns) if they do the same. They have paid for the balance in blood and it is now time for you and your allies of Riveness to do the same.



Pillar of Wisdom
Mor 5

Greetings to the Church,

The Pillar has trouble believing such a self professed force of good has waited so long to contact us, the foremost experts on the influences of evil and its spread. Thankfully you offer proper respect in the form of new subjects to study.

We have often pondered on the devices of the Myconoids and their strange abilities. We had been planning on a study of some of the influential members of the Hive and their conversion and loyalty metrics. If it is possible to turn Hive members against their Queen through combinations of mind manipulation and experimentation then we would be fools not to try.

We are not willing to work with the Church in this regard since we plan very close tot he chest but thank you for future gifts of test subjects. If you could be troubled to send us a living subject from the converted devils you have gained it would be most appreciated.

Sincerely,
Arcturus
The Jade Wizard,
Master of the Pillar,
Bulwark of Good


Greetings,

While we welcome the contact from an esteemed nation such as yourselves we are stunned to such a forward thinking progressive nation attempting to treat with a nation of wraiths and necromancers. For a nation espousing such ideals as peace you and your allies are involved in all the wars currently taking place in Hanrui.

We need no mediation with Wraiths of such an evil nature and when our current experimentation ends we will return to the Wraiths as one returns to a tumer that has grown back and must be excised.

Sincerely,
Arcturus
The Jade Wizard,
Master of the Pillar,
Bulwark of Good

The secretary of the Tower sniffs as she looks over the Pilgrim. "Well at least you look more presentable then the last one. Assuming you have the proper articles of diplomacy and a formal message would you please present it to the tower?"


Wraiths
Mor 12

Greetings

We have no issue with mediating with the Pillar but we would require control of Nex in entirety and for reparations for our lost brother who was almost assuredly taken by them. They may be moved elsewhere in Hanrui but if they remain we have no other options.


Greetings to our erstwhile alies,

We would be amenable to renewing our deal and would be delighted to receive you on our isle.

Wraiths

Artifact of the Ancient Forest
Public

Calls to the forest prompt no movement no beings stride forth to meet and discuss. When pressed, or if messengers linger they only hear a whisper sliding through their minds as the wind slides through trees.

'We do not not hold with those who are not blessed. Only our masters, the blessed, can call upon the forces of the ancient forest. The forest gives nothing to those who left the Ancient Forest to linger in dust and forgotten tombs.'

[Writtensanity]

If the people of Shemesh do not answer the call to fight the darkness, then we will face you alone in the coming seasons. Let us show you that we protect our own with more than just idle prayer. You have won for two seasons, now you must lose for two. That would be balance, no?

Grand Voice Sylas of the First Kyrsull Legion








Dearest Scholars.

It is regrettable, though understandable that you are not able to provide direct aid at this time. May your experiments go well. Alas we will not provide followers of the Voice for experimentation, but if one of the devils has been simply pretending, you wlll be the first place we send him.

Grand Voice Jeleva






It's not a letter that goes into the forest, but Grand Voice Sylas himself.


"I'm not sure what I was expecting," the Grand Voice says as he looks over the damages from the magical traps, "but this wasn't it."

He waits to feel the presence of the Willow around him.

"Tell me, what do you need? I know we freed you into tragedy and we do not want you to suffer. Let us be your shield."



Basically how hurt are the Willow from the trap?








Our continued discussion hinges of whether you will back down from the call to fight evil. I would tell you to claim to back down and then lend your reputation either way, but Shemesh speaks in the light which makes this all rather difficult.





May your city flourish with your freedom.

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour



To the most esteemed Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic,

We are no friends of the bandits of Silvermist. They have opposed our occupation of Old Balam, and told if we took Balam, they would consider it an act of war. While they have not made any declaration yet, some of the High Master's military advisers believe they will try and take the city from us soon. They might have chosen not to pursue war, as their word is worthless, but they might have not.
Thus, we are considering your proposition.

Know though, His Templars are no mercenaries. While we appreciate your token of respect, Our Burning Saviour's Crusade does not conduct business, but strategic cooperation.

What do you offer? Are you willing to stand at our side in our times of need as well, when we call upon you?

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour


To the Astral Collective

Same disclaimer again, Esp of 8. :smallwink:

"I see." Archon Keldrar replied, after some time of thoughtful silence.
"I respect and value your honesty. I had heard reports claiming that the Collective hailed from another... reality, but I wasn't sure what to think myself."
His tone of voice had a hint of doubt left, although the Archon hid it well.
"You were honest and plain to me, so let me be the same to you - your former opposition to Holy Pyresoul, an ally of our noble ancestors, would likely cause you to be declared anathema by the High Priestess. However - you were not opposed to Holy Pyresoul, but a dragon of your reality. Is he to be considered one and the same? A theological question, and one that is bound to be of much debate, for whether the divine may be shared across realities is surely a matter of much contention." He stopped again, pondering. "You may be correct in your analysis. You may be not. I can only be sure after a conversation with the Heir, if I prove to be worthy."
He lowered his beak and closed his eyes in his flame-scarred face in reverence.
"I would have to ask him about his lack of cruelty. Cruelty can be used wrong, and it can be used right. The first is how demons use it, simply to destroy. The second is how Our Saviour uses it, to teach. Don't use it at all and all you have left is the pitiful huddled masses of the Faithful of Shemesh."

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal

Morale 2, Rep 3



Hail to Azaersi the Immortal,

It will be my great pleasure to welcome you properly onto the shores of Kyrsul, and I shall endeavour to leave enough of the devils and beasts standing for it to have been worth the trip. I trust the City’s pathfinders and explorers did their work well?

And there shall always be a seat at my table for you and yours, as soon as my City is in a state to properly receive you.


May your dreams burn themselves unto reality,
The Magnificent Vyas Asraya, Artisan in Glass and Wind, Captain-General of the Army of Liberation, Great Man of the Republic




Marvellous, I look forward to the results.

On another matter, have you any interest in Corin’s old dagger? Obviously the greater mass of your wraiths will be occupied, but if you’ve another relic to trade for it, or soldiers and theurges to loan the use of, your city would be a fitting home for it.

-The Exalted Lia Misri, Weaver in Blood and Bone







So, after quizzing the GM, it turns out I actually only need 2 of my 4 points, not 3. :smalltongue: Don’t suppose you’d like to increase the magnitude of the trade?

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 7
Reputation 7

Dear High Priestess Vestis,

Your assessment of Silvermist is in essence correct. The Council of Clans offered them every chance to turn back from their foolhardy path of aligning with the spawn of the lower planes, but adventurers know only reward without a mind for risk: such people make for good figureheads, but in our experience are rarely suitable leaders of nations. They may yet try to take Old Balam, though with their fiendish friends in disarray, they might struggle to maintain their current position.

As far as our incentive, please do not mistake the gift for anything other than a mark of our respect. We are of a far too similar character to accept mere coin without the prospect of honor to accompany it - otherwise, we would have hardly declared on the Brotherhood when our own forces were butchered at Khasal. Rest assured that the Council of Clans has every intention of standing at your side when the senior adventurers of Goldfinder’s company breathe their last.

Sincerely,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of Thrones Republic
Dear tenebrous peers,

We have heard your demands and have spoken to the mages of the Pillar. We trust that your people can read our communiques in any case. It is unfortunate that your demands for Nex as well as reparations for your lost scion seem as though they will go unheard from the Jade Wizard and his associates. They seem set on destroying your kind unequivocally. While we plan to discuss the matter with them, we cannot promise any result as of yet.

For the time being, the Republic’s official policy for your continent is one of non-intervention. Please know that I am personally invested in helping peace and prosperity flourish among all nations, including those of Nex. Therefore, I will do what is within my grasp over the coming seasons to discuss with the Jade Wizard what alternative solutions might be possible.

Sincerely,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic
Dear sage of Jade,

After being forwarded your last missive to our speaker in the Council of Clans, I was struck by the need to reply to your words myself. I feel as though a frank and honest conversation between us might clear up some of the miscommunication we have endured so far.

Although I am unsure of your exact literary wanderings, I can only assume that a mind as illustrious as yourself has at least perused the Hymns of Hadregash or the Articles of Iron, two canons central to the present day Ironfang Republic. On the off chance that you are unacquainted with either text, the former is a collection of written songs, tales, and other works of art from the ancient Dhaakani Empire and beyond, to the first goblin to drink from the mythic Cantorian Spring; the latter are a series of civic and individual guidelines to living honorably within the framework of a just society. As one of the founders of the Republic, I had a personal hand in drafting the Articles, while taking heroic example from the deeds recorded in the Hymns.

I risk tiring you with this lengthy preamble so as to offer my argument better context. In your missive, you expressed the shock at which the Republic would speak for - and with - ‘evil’ entities such as the followers of Chemosh. I would counter by raising the example of Vrenn, a bugbear who despite the fear and hatred towards her form and the savagery of her kin became a renowned mage and scholar of lore and saved hundreds at the Battle of Byn Lamm and the fall of High Cheraxis. Vrenn gave her life in that battle, a fact corroborated in multiple accounts from more than one side of the conflict.

It is more than possible for any being, no matter how apparently loathsome, to rise above its baser nature. Historical precedent for this phenomenon exists - indeed, my entire nation rests on the promise of redemption as informed by those who have come before. A wiser being than me once asked: ‘what is better, to be born good, or to overcome one’s evil nature through great effort?’ I would pose you the same question.

Brother Kraelos, High Priest of Jang and Kherak

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour



Some more red-robed, golden-armoured Clerics are seen boarding the galleon soon to leave for Khasal from Balam.

Sure. Two MAG for two adventurers, or do you need more?




To the most esteemed Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic,

Very good. Your honour is known, as is the dwarves. We will secure our side of the pass and Castle Rabak, for future operations.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

In the Citadel of Preserverance of the Templars of Our Burning Saviour

And yet, pain is not what the pilgrim of Shemesh shows. Karety clenches her teeth, but even as the sharp iron stick cuts her cheek, she remains determined, not moving an inch, and not requiring the clawed hand to do so. In her eyes the conviction of faith would be visible to those well versed in religious spirit.

Perhaps it was faith, perhaps it was her spirit, perhaps it was something else entirely, but for whatever reason, the red-hot iron would not burn or scar her face as would be expected, the skin hardly reacting to the heat compared to the sharpness of the stick cutting in the cheek and blood rolling from it, softly boiling on the red-hot stick. Karety remained unfazed.

When the stick was withdrawn, the wound did not bleed and while the flesh was burned, singed, it hardly seemed to matter compared to the cut itself. Karety nodded to the Cleric. “Shemesh radiates Light for us all.” She said, before turning to the Theocracy of Shemesh to bring the lesson.


http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/manipurasmall.jpg
Source: https://luckyottershaven.com/2015/01/23/narcissism-and-chakra-healing//

Theocracy of Shemesh

Luminous is Shemesh
Light fills the Land
Light fills our Hearts
Light banishes Darkness
Forever and ever more

Torches may dim
Night may fall
Candles may be blown out
Lanterns may be snuffed
Stars may be clouded
Nations may crumble
Lives may end

Always the Dawn will come

The message that had arrived from the Legion of Darkness was thrown in a ritual fire during the brightest moment of the day, burned in ceremony. “The Light will banish Darkness. Shemesh shows the way.” The faithful sang.

Public message to the Ironfang Republic

Pasena, the male pilgrim who brought the message previously to the Ironfang Republic, once more shows up.

“Greetings, I am Pasena from the Theocracy of Shemesh. The Theocracy of Shemesh declares its borders open to the Ironfang Republic. May you travel safely in the Light to wherever your path leads. May you have the blessing of Shemesh should you fight the Legion of Darkness.

The Legion of Darkness has declared war against the Ironfang Republic, seeking to strike at you. The Theocracy of Shemesh is aware you are involved in more battles, with which we wish you luck. May Light be on your path with the challenges you face ahead. Know that the Theocracy of Shemesh welcomes your words of prayer (Morale) should you seek to bring Light to the Legion of Darkness.

In any case, the Theocracy of Shemesh thanks you for your response, and wishes you well.”

(OOC: The Theocracy of Shemesh has opened its borders to the Ironfang Republic, you and any forces may pass freely.)

Public message to the Astral Collective

At the Astral Collective, a female pilgrim once again speaks a message

“Greetings, I am Tenwere from the Theocracy of Shemesh. The Theocracy of Shemesh declares its borders open to the Astral Collective. May you travel safely in the Light to wherever your path leads. May you have the blessing of Shemesh should you fight the Legion of Darkness.

The Legion of Darkness has declared war against the Astral Collective. Should you seek to bring Light to the Legion of Darkness, the Theocracy of Shemesh welcomes your words of prayer (Morale) to assist our efforts against the Darkness.”

(OOC: The Theocracy of Shemesh has opened its borders to the Astral Collective, you and any forces may pass freely.)

Public message to the Dwarves of Khazn Durn

At the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn, a male pilgrim once again speaks a message.

“Greetings, I am Pasena from the Theocracy of Shemesh. The Theocracy of Shemesh declares its borders open to the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn. May you travel safely in the Light to wherever your path leads. May you have the blessing of Shemesh should you fight the Legion of Darkness.

The Legion of Dakrness has declared war against the Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn. You have lost lands of your own, so we understand that is of greater concern to you, with which we wish you luck. Should you nevertheless seek to bring Light to the Legion of Darkness, the Theocracy of Shemesh welcomes your words of prayer (Morale) to assist our efforts against the Darkness.”

(OOC: The Theocracy of Shemesh has opened its borders to the Dwarves of Khazn Durn, you and any forces may pass freely.)

Public message to the Pillar of Wisdom

Samenpe, a male pilgrim, stood at the Pillar of Wisdom’s entry. He pulls out a papyrus scroll, an official document from the Theocracy of Shemesh confirming he is the official messenger, sent with a verbal message. The papyrus scroll does seem to be written by priests of Shemesh instead of bureaucrats, so there are a lot of references to light, radiance, illuminance, Shemesh and so on.

“The Theocracy of Shemesh declares its borders open to the Pillar of Wisdom. May you travel safely in the Light to wherever your path leads.

Please, I plead assistance from your great expertise in the eradication of evil to strike at the vilery of the Legion of Darkness as they murder and destroy all in their path! Either by whatever means you wish to dedicate, or to send those willing to speak their words and lend their spirit (Morale) to quell the Darkness together with the Theocracy of Shemesh!

The Legion of Dakrness has declared war against the Pillar of Wisdom. The Theocracy of Shemesh beseeches the Pillar of Wisdom to send aid against the Legion of Darkness, who brings harm, death and strife to this world. May you have the blessing of Shemesh should you fight the Legion of Darkness.”

(OOC: The Theocracy of Shemesh has opened its borders to the Pillar of Wisdom, you and any forces may pass freely.)

Public message to the Free City of Khasal

Mosatny, a female pilgrim, stands up again. “You’re right, the Free City fo Khasal has much to recover from as well, my apologies if I brought offense. Considering your plight and your proposal, let the caravans of the Theocracy of Shemesh once more travel to the Free City of Khasal to aid your reconstruction efforts, as you will send people to join us in prayer to stave off the Darkness.”

(OOC: Proposing to give 2 Economy in exchange for 2 Morale this turn. Economy is what you referenced to, correct?)

Public message to the Church of the Truth Speaker

Nebtise speaks clearly. “I speak in the Light. I speak in truth. Shemesh illuminates. We, guided by Shemesh, will not be lost in Darkness, but light the way. The Legion of Darkness will know Light.

I beg of you to offer your prayer to us to fight the Legion of Darkness.

The Theocracy of Shemesh’ borders are open to the Church of the Truth Speaker. May you travel safely in the Light of Shemesh.

I will listen and bring your command to the Theocracy of Shemesh. Our armies and diplomats are at your disposal, for you to see fit to attack or defend. We rely on your expertise for other instructions.”

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour


In the Citadel of Perseverance, with the Theocracy of Shemesh (please treat as MOR 8 inplay)

"Not even the mark of honour would stay with her. She has nothing but the unearned protection of her god." the Cleric reported back to his comrades in the other room.
"It seems Shemesh coddles his children, and thus children they'll remain."

[n0ble]

The scavengers in my south know...peace by my hyphae. Contingent upon it is their inheritance of my lands. Much as it may gall and gull at my cortexes that they now stand to reap what has been sewn, my agreement with them yet stand nonetheless. Yet I would have satisfaction in all things. My desires...my thoughts...my appetitess. To that end: I propose something new.


As a paragon of villainy once said, I'm altering the deal.

Item 1: No open borders needed, the Church of Truth (hereafter "the Church") will sail to the Legion from space 4.
Item 2: The Church will take space 7 on turn 4 or 5
Item 3: The Fungul Combine (hereafter "the Combine" will take space 60 on turn 4.
Item 4: The Combine will accept the 6 Temp ECON and guarantee that no harm will come to members of the Church from the Combine. Should the Church wish to extend this guarantee of no harm until turn 5, they will give the Combine 3 temp Econ on turn 5, with the additional provision that all in all future dealings similar to Item 4, the Combine will ask for 2 Econ at most.

I'm willing to waive the underlined part of Item 4 if you give (as in let me use, not give as send to invade :smalltongue:) me any stats Shemesh lends you this turn in your fight against the Legion. For this turn (turn 4) only. Looking forward to your reply!




Naturally.

Still stands by me. As per another deal I'm working out with the Church of Truth, I'm going to be taking space 60 this turn. S'alright?

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal

Morale 2, Reputation 3



The Red Weaver didn’t respond for a moment, her attention diverted to a miraculously-still-living calcification victim moaning in pain. One sigil drawn on his burnt and blistered flesh and a bit of effort latter, the sound was far more musical and pleasing to the ear. Then, with a genuine smile on her face, she replied.

“The labours of what witch-priests your god bothers to empower would suffice, but treasures and reagents are best, yes. Send them with whatever pieties you need mouthed and rituals carried out. My Love knows that we have enough refugees squatting in ruins with nothing to do but feud over scraps. Who knows, perhaps you’ll even make some converts.”

Walking over to the next bed-currently filled by an emaciated and rabid-looking woman, struggling against her bonds-she looked over her shoulder. “Was there anything else? A boon for yourself? Mm-angel’s wings, to speed your journey home? Flowering hair, to sustain yourself off your beloved sun and water? Fangs and scales, to die without embarrassment when a legionnaire disembowels you?”





Vestis,

More aid would be lovely, obviously-our Glorious Captain-General would invade the Brotherhood on all three fronts if he had the men, and the reconstruction plans have this amazing trick of always getting more elaborate to stay just a fortune or ten more excessive than whatever funding I can dig up.

But the Helldivers and the Ambassadors already have contracts for the season, and my personal fortune is invested in shares of a palace complex currently flooded with flesh-eating acid. So unless your Church has developed a sudden taste for charity-and if it has, please say, I am absolutely not too proud to accept charity-that’s the extent of the deals I can make at the moment.

-Atena

P.S. Though I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a magically effective back-stabbing knife?




Putting 2 Adv at the disposal of the Templars

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour



To Atena,

We do indeed not think highly of charity, for it usually breeds weakness. With Khasal though, things may be different. Our Saviour's Crusade has need of all our resources, but we will see if the situation changes once the travelling knights return, and there are wares neither easily spent nor easily stored.

My condolences on your palace.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour

P.S.: The Crusade has no members who are skilled enough in assassination to use it, I'm afraid. The Templars prefer killing from the front. However, that may change in the coming season.



Of course. Have fun consuming.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Morale 11
Reputation 7


The message is delivered in a letter bound in silver twine.

Greetings. I am deeply saddened to hear of your brother’s passing. His loss will diminish our craft as a whole.

I would be interested in procuring the weapon of which you write, for both sentimental and practical reasons. In return, our agents could bolster the resolve of your people. Let me know what you think of such an offer.

Kalira, Spymistress of the Astral Collective

Offering [7 MOR] for the +1 Dagger of Assassination.


The message is delivered in a letter bound in silver twine.

The Astral Collective acknowledges your claim, and will not contest it.

The Council of Speakers of the Astral Collective

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 7
Reputation 7

Sending 4 ADV to clear more floors from the Crystalforge!

[LimSindull]

Three Adventurers will be brought along for the greatest escapade in all the lands. Grock, with his Flametongue, 00101010, and Captain Goldfinder (with some extra magic) will all be launching the final push through the Troll Dens. [3 adv, 1 magic, Grock (lvl1 adv VIP with 1 adv Equipment), 00101010 (lvl 2 VIP 1 mil with permanent Mil item, and 1 adv), and Captain Goldfinder (lvl 1 Mag vip)

[Writtensanity]

Grand Voice Sylas followed the pair of Paladins out towards the fort walls. The first members of the Shemeshi army were going to be arriving today and Sylas could only hope that they had brought tents. Shemesh has the largest population of any of the powers of Hanrui with how massive it was. Outside of Hanrui, the Church lands stretched across continents, but on the scale their current home, Shemesh reigned supreme..

Which should lead to a large army, a tide of willing faithful to stand up and fight for the cause. It was going to be a force sent by the Voice herself to unite against the Legion of Darkness.

Once they were close to the walls, Sylas left his escorts behind and took to the air, climbing dozens of feet with powerful wingbeats that could stagger an untrained soldier. He ascended to get a view of the amassed forces that were coming to meet them.

Spread out in the clearing, as well as packed within the forest were miles of followers of Shemesh, all of which were united in a prayer for something about light, Alone at the front of the amassed followers, there was a single pilgrim who wasn’t locked in prayer, patiently waiting in front of the fort gates.

Sylas dove down to the ground beside the pilgrim, the shock of his landing causing the woman to jump away from him and whisper a small prayer to the light. As she finished, Sylas folded his wings and unbent his knees. The pilgrim craned her neck to get a good look at his face her mouth open in awe.

In front of the lithe leader, Sylas looked like a towering giant, standing nearly three metres tall and wearing sturdy plate mail armour. The pilgrim took a moment to process how large the angel was from up close and then bowed her head.

“May the light of Shemesh shine on you, we are the forces sent by the Archpriestess. All of us have come to coordinate our protection of the light. I am Pilgrim Thayda, charged by the light to lead our devout army of Shemesh to you."

Sylas nodded to the pilgrim and stared out into the swath of Shemesh devotees, all wearing in simple robes with travelling sacs to sustain them. The people of Shemesh had greatly underestimated their military might in the previous letters. Even if they weren’t Paladins of the Voice, this many soldiers could stop the advance of the Legion without the help of the Church.

“May you hear the Voice soon Thayda,” Sylas greeted. The pilgrim frowned at the classical church welcome before returning to a friendly smile half a second later. “Your numbers are impressive.”

“Shemesh’s light inspires all to protect,” Thayda answered.


“Good,” Sylas nodded again, “it will make dealing with the Legion easy. Would you mind tracking down your munitions and weapons manifest? It would be good to know the weaponry you brought so we can use it tactically.”

“Our,” Thayda paused, “I don’t believe you’re speaking about the prayer schedule.”

“I’m not,” Silas confirmed.

“Pardon, that would be the only sort of mani-fest,” Thayda took her time on the word, like she knew it but had never used it before, “we would have.”

“Pardon?” Sylas asked.

“I don’t have the information you’re asking for written, but I can tell you what we have brought if you would like.”

Sylas unfurled and then tucked his wings, if she could remember everything they had at their disposal this Thayda was going to be irreplaceable at battle meetings. “Very well, but we should wait, prattling off a list that long is something best done once we’ve shown you around the fort.”

“It should not take long,” Thayda corrected, “each pilgrim of the blessed Shemesh carries a staff, which we have carried for our entire time as pilgrims, as well as a torch and lantern for ceremony that we are prepared to use to protect our light.”

Sylas waited for more.

Thayda beamed at him, having shared her news.

“Is that all?” Sylas asked.

“Yes, blessed be Shemesh for making our weapons light enough to carry.”

“Do you have armour on a caravan we should prepare for?” Sylas asked.

“No, Shemesh’s light protects us all,” the Pilgrim explained.

Sylas nodded with approval, magic made sense. That would weave in will with the spell casters. “Do you know how durable your light is?” Sylas asked.


“Our light will never fade,” Thayda clarified.

“No weapon will pierce it?” Sylas raised an eyebrow at the lofty claim.

“Our flesh may die, but the light of Shemesh will live on in-“

“Do you have armour made of light you wear into battle?” Sylas cut the pilgrim off.

“No, Shemesh’s light is in our hearts.”

“Voice be mute,” Sylas cursed. The original estimate of the Shemeshi forces had been right, there were thousands of them, but they were nearly civilians, never trained in the ways of war or combat.

“We’ll make it work,” Sylas sighed to Pilgrim Thayda, who was still standing proud in front of her trail of several thousand ducklings. “We will send the medical supplies and healers we promised as soon as they are prepared for flight.”

“Shemesh be praised,” Pilgrim Thayda called to the assembled Shemeshi, the gathered pilgrims echoed her before she followed Sylas into the fort, and the attempt to make a proper army began.




The letter is delivered by a small contingent of Angels that arrive carrying healers as well as scrolls to teach the Shemeshi some sacred arts of the Church.



I am promising to send 5 MOR for the EOT, this number may go up if I can squeeze things with my battle plans.







Please allow us some time to consider the offer.







Dearest Templars,

The Church is looking for adventurers to help navigate safe passages around their new home of Kyrsull. We know you are esteemed adventurers and were wondering if any of your members would be willing to guide us in exchange for resources?

Thank you for your consideration.

Grand Voice Khal, Economic Head of the Church of the Truth Seeker




For an endeavour in the coming months we are in need of adventurers, seeing as you likely have some quite secret battle plans, we were wondering if any of your adventuring companies would be free for a payment of more directly impactful resources.

Grand Voice Khal, Economic Head of the Church of the Truth Seeker






SPIN THE ****ING WHEEL BOYS

Into the Temple we go! BEEP BEEP

Grand Voice Sylas (MIL 1) and Grand Voice Jeleva (MAG 1) are going to go into the dungeon along with:

1 ADV and 2 ESP.

This should clear 5 floors :)

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal
Morale 2
Reputation 3




Vestis,

Well, if there’s one thing the City’s great for, it’s finding places to sell clearly useless trinkets dragged out of some dust-flooded tomb. So anything you’d otherwise cast aside would be appreciated, and repaid in kind when the City is in a better position.

Take care,
Atena





The letter is returned by what seems to be a massive albino raven, on closer inspection the reply written in the pigmentation of its wings

To the Shadow of the Light,

Truly, what you offer is not the payment I hoped for. But you offer enough to raise the people to useful labour, and by the nattering pilgrim before me it seems wishes and prayers are more sought after than I realized.

You will know before I do if a more appealing bid is made, I’m sure. If not, consider it yours.

-The Exalted Lia Misri, Beloved of the Architect, Weaver in Blood and Bone





To Grand Voice Khal,

The offer’s is very much appreciated, and I would really like to say yes here, but I’m afraid the Bloody Nine and the Happy Huntresses are under contract with the Templars, and the Helldivers and Ambassadors have both been hired on to the war effort by Captain-General Asraya. No one left to go paladin-hunting, as fun a hobby as it is.

Well, the ones hired by the templars are pretty much spoken for, but you could possibly lure the other two away in exchange for some proper soldiers. But I get the impression you’ve got a war of your own to fight? (Obscene amounts of money are also always accepted, but I'd feel like a b*tch if I just said the cost is twice what they’re actually worth)

-The Intrepid Atena Nalar, Ruby-Eyed, Sometime-Treasurer of the Fogscar Adventurers Society

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour



To the most esteemed Grand Voice Khal,

Your inquiry comes late in the season, unfortunately. However, we respect the church, as a partner, thus it may be possible we can reach two of our units of travelling knights in time for redirections. What resources do you offer? Economic power would be preferred.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour



Since the High Master is injured, only leaderless adventuring knights, Clerics, Balamites and Khasal adventurers will head into the dungeons.

8 of these adventurers (5 knights, 1 powerful potion, 2 Khasal adventurer troops) head into the Renegade Mountain Fortress.
2 troops of knights are sent to support the Church of the Truth Speaker.
3 troops of knights head into the Cave of the Stone Giants.

[Writtensanity]

We can offer 3 large deliveries of fine metals for their use at the end of season.

OOC: 3 Econ for the Adv for end of turn.






I have been given approval to commit equivalent battalions to your service for the season. Politically I am told we are leaning on the fact that we are still helping a nation in need.

Considering your confess for magic I believe you will find our plans amusing. We do plan to use the adventurers to chart all possible courses over the Atrogan lake, and then utilize storm conjuring to make them impassable without a keystone.. Any fleet who tries will be scuttled.

We trust you as allies of circumstance, and it seemed like your brand of comedy, this letter is only to be read by you and those who’s spies we cannot seem to fool.

Grand Voice Jeleva

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour



To the most esteemed Grand Voice Khal,

This is acceptable. The knights await your orders. Good fortune on your endeavours.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour

[St.Just]

To Grand Voice Jeleva

Now that I really cannot wait to read about. Hopefully one of the Huntresses gives an interview about what it looks like first-hand.

But the deals done. Just under two dozen of Khasal’s most cheerfully and inventively bloodthirsty reprobates at your service, and I’ll tell Vyas to expect-what, a few hundred heavy cavalry? Choir of angelic wraith? A couple thousand *******s with armour and spears? If you send the Shemesis I can’t guarantee any of them will actually survive combat.

--The Intrepid Atena Nalar, Ruby-Eyed, Sometime-Treasurer of the Fogscar Adventurers Society

[n0ble]

The Combine’s 2 Adv. will scout theory newly discovered dungeon in space 5

[Zweanslord]

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/camel.jpg
Source: http://benlo0.blogspot.com/2012_07_01_archive.html

Theocracy of Shemesh

Once, when the Theocracy of Shemesh had arrived, the military had consisted of a small regiment of Knights and Paladins. They were no more, slain by the Legion of Darkness as they fought to the last in defense of their people. Truthfully, it must be said that neither Knight nor Paladin from the Theocracy of Shemesh possessed either the military skill, expertise, weapon or armour as they did in other nations, but they did have military experience. Of all the Shemesh faithful, they had lasted the longest in defense, their sacrifice martyring them to the other believers.

And thus, while the actual Knights and Paladins had been defeated in battle, their fighting spirit had not. It lived on in the large flock now present at the Church of the Truth Speaker, the army of Shemesh. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of martial skill.

Meanwhile, another group of Shemesh were travelling. Where the military of the Shemesh was now present at the Church of the Truth Speaker, caravans with goods were heading to the Free City of Khasal, to aid in reconstruction of the ruined city, in hopeful exchange of prayers.

Public message to the Free City of Khasal

“May the Light guide you, may Shemesh ease your pain, may Light radiate all.” Mosatny prayed as she looked at the victim, saddened by her surroundings.

She looked at the Red Weaver and nodded to the confirmation regarding the supply of treasures, in exchange for prayer. With a sad look, she looked at another victim present, the Red Weaver stood next to.

“A boon?” Mosatny looks in surprise, not expecting a shift in topic. “For following Shemesh?” She blinks for a moment, then smiles. “To always walk in the Light, to know radiance, illumination. Shemesh protects, the Light of Shemesh guides. In the Light of Shemesh, I have found my path, which stretches forever forward. I walk, holding up my torch, with Shemesh close and Light ever radiating outward.”

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal
Morale 2
Reputation 3



Lia looked at the pilgrim with an expression of deep sadness, shaking her head as she replied “Your god has ruined you. The greatest kingdom in the land, filled to bursting with so many neutered sheep. I alm-”

She was interrupted by the arrival of a massive raven, if one with disturbingly human eyes and a letter bound in silver twine in its talon. Showing no reaction as it perched on her shoulder, talons clearly digging into her flesh, she unfurled the letter and quickly scanned the contents. An annoyed expression turning to a smile as her gaze shifted from the paper back to Mosatny.

“It seems I have business with you yet. Tell me, how many among your number yet retain any spark of valor or passion? Soldiers or spies, mages or explorers. If you would trade anything worthwhile about your people for so many choruses and droning sermons, I would be a fool not to agree.”

[GameOfChampions]

Turn 4 Midturn

The Fungal Collective
Mor 10
The Fungal Collective sent 2 Adv into The Tunnels of the Underdark and cleared 2 floors. They came back with a rare gen ((+) temp Econ), and rare body supplements ((+) temp Adv).

Church of the Truth Speaker
Mor 10
The Church of the Truth Speaker sent the Grand Voice Sylas and Grand Voice Jeleva, 1 Adv, and 2 Esp into the Cursed Temple of the Soul Singer and cleared 5 floors. They came back with ancient diplomatic texts depicting an old alliance of superpowers ((++) temp Rep), and several rare gold chains ((+++) Temp Econ). As they near the depths of the ancient structure an ancient banshee is unleashed during a vicious fight (Major Monster Unleashed).

Silvermist
Mor 7
Silvermist sent Grock (+1 Adv Item), 00101010 (+1 Mil Item), and Captain Goldfinder, 3 Adv, and 1 Mag into the Feral Troll Den with three companions and cleared 11 floors. They came back with stolen gold and silver ((++) temp Econ), An ancient crown of power from the head of a starborn goblinoid (+1 Rep Item), an pair of ancient statues of clockwork creatures ((++++) temp Rep), ((+) temp Adv), a staff of the magus (+1 Mag Item). No event.

Title: Adventurous! (+10 to Loot Rolls on Basic Loot table)

Templar's of our Burning Savior
Mor 8
The Templars sent 5 Adv, a potion (+) temp adv, and 2 Adv from Khasal, to the Necromancers lair, they cleared 8 floors. They also sent 3 Adv to the Caves of the Stone Giants, they cleared 3 floors. The adventurers came out with ancient texts on a decade long war for Grand Admiral Ior (4xp), a powerful set of ancient red dragon scale full plate (+1 Mil Item), a crate of powerful witches brews ((+++++) Adv), ancient golden idols ((+++++) Temp Econ), and rare magical reagents ((++) temp mag).

Ironfang Republic
Mor 7
The Ironfang Republic sent 4 Adv into the Crystalforge and cleared 4 floors. The came out with a rare piece of crystal ((+) temp Econ), an ancient monster guide for their fearless leader (4xp for Kraelos) and some potions made by ancient craftsmen ((+++) temp Adv). A momsternis unleashed from the dungeon, a gargantuen Crystal War Golem (Major Monster) is unleashed!

City of Wraiths
Mor 12
The Wraiths send 2 Adv into the City of Wraiths, they clear 2 floors. They make it out with an ancient necromatic reagents ((++++) temp Mag).


Pilar of Wisdom
Mor 5


The designated official that met with the Pilgrim a senior mage in the tower who has a specialty with Enchantment, nods his head at the Pilgrim in respect and starts to speak in a congenial tone with a hint of magic to it. "The Jade Wizard and the Pillar of Wisdom thanks the Theocracy for its gift of open borders, our agents and travelers will relish the ease in which they can travel that area of the world."

He then inclines his head sadly and shakes his head "However we need of all of our resources at this time and you do not come in trade so we cannot help you. We also have no desire to interact with the Legion in any way at this time. Their change will come again before they make it anywhere near us and they have more pressing matters to attend on their own lands should the change keep them on the side of evil. Besides they are well documented and they are actually forces of neutrality fighting for the forces of evil. Their is a technical difference, one which means a great deal to our research. Perhaps your answer lies in greater pursuit of magical knowledge, churches often confuse the power they are given with un-needed clutter and baggage. Should you rid yourself of that you would channel the power of gods more efficiently."

[Janwin]

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn

To all civilized nations of Hanrui,

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn is willing exchange supplies and expertise for services. If you have interest in dwarven smithed items or need engineers to construct defenseworks, roads or cities, we are willing to hear your offers for these services.

With honor,
King Thurgin Wildhammer

OOC: Willing to trade ECO and MOR for any fair offer.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Free City of Khasal

Mosatny looked at Lia. “The Light of Shemesh radiates for us all.” She mentioned as a massive raven arrived. Waiting for the two to do their thing, she prayed to Shemesh in silence. When she was addressed again, she frowned.

“But how can you agree? Do you yet have more who can join our prayer?

Public message to the Pillar of Wisdom

Samenpe spoke up. “Darkness has consumed the Legion and they wield it to cause horror, to strike down and cause widespread death. There is no difference in the way they wield Darkness than a party claiming to be evil. Their claim to fight for neutrality has seen them fall into the Darkness and for as long as they let Darkness consume them, their claim to fight for neutrality is a lie. Misguided perhaps, as Darkness fools them, but a lie nonetheless, for they fight with, as and for Darkness. A chance in their tactics will be a sham, for Darkness resides within them and we need help to bring Light so that Darkness may be banished.

Yet, I understand your plight. Therefore, I wish the Pillar of the Wisdom well and hope that if not now, perhaps in the future you may chose to fight Darkness. May the Light of Shemesh be on the path of the Pillar of Wisdom.”

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal


To Theocracy of Shemesh

Lia seemed more than slightly annoyed at the question. Reaching up, she pressed a hand into the birds plumage-which lightened to the color of polished bone within moments, flecks of black that seemed almost like text visible on the back of its wings as it took off again. The talon marks on the Weaver’s shoulder healing within moments.

“I’m told it’s more a matter of organizing all we already have. But yes, many, many more. So tell me, what can you offer-soldiers or sleuths, acolytes or explorers? Any I cannot use, my friends can.”



Vestis,

Not to pester, but just writing to see if those dashing knights of yours actually did bring back any trinkets you don’t have any use for? Assuming not, but I’m hopeful enough to ask before budgets get finalized.

-Atena

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Free City of Khasal

Mosatny nodded. “In the Light of Shemesh, another caravan can be send to aid in reconstructing the city, as well as two group of pilgrims to carry the Light and cast radiance on the paths you walk.”

(OOC: Offering an additional 1 Economy and 2 Adventurers for an additional 3 Morale.)

[St.Just]

Free City of Khasal

To Theocracy of Shemesh

Lia smiled as she replied “The war effort could certainly use a corps or two of suicidally brave pathfinders, and treasure is always welcome. If you’ve nothing else to offer? No boons for yourself to beg? Then kindly remove yourself from my sight.”

[Writtensanity]

We accept your terms. Consume elsewhere. You will find the treasures left at our borders to be collected. Forgive us for being unwilling to carry them into your lands ourselves.

[GameOfChampions]

Turn 5 Midturn


The Fungal Combine
Mor 10

The Fungal Combine sent 1 Adv into the The Open Cictrix and 1 Adv into the Tunnels of the Underdark. They came out with Part 2 of the Teleport array and 4 xp for Warrior. A Lesser Formian monster is released.


Church of the Truth Speaker
Mor 10

The Church sent Grand Voices Khal and Dawn into the Cursed Temple clearing 4 floors, and Grand Voice Myra and 1 Adv into the Ancient Forest and cleared 3 floors. They came out with several lesser wands (+++ temp magic), a pair of potions (++ temp adv), a small chest of platinum coins (++++ temp econ), and a Scepter of Storms (+1 Adv Item).


The Dwarf Hold of Kazhn Durn
Mor 10

The Dwarf Hold sent 2 adv into the Mine of Kazhn Durn and cleared 2 floors. They came out with (++ temp Adv). There is a rock fall that kills some of the divers (Lose 1 Adv).


Silvermist
Mor 1

Silvermist sent Grock and 7 adv to clear the Beholders Lair, clearing 10 floors. They came out with an Arcane Crystal Ball (+1 Esp Item), an ancient wand (++ temp Mag), several ancient texts on exploration (8xp to Grock. Is now Tier 2 Adv), they found an ancient text on the bugbear star emperor and a clockwork statue (++++ temp Rep). A surprise attack by a pair of beholders kills some brave adventurers (Lose 2 Adv).


Templars of the Burning Savior
Mor 8

The Templars sent High Master, 5 Adv, and 3 temp Adv to the Necromancers Lair, clearing the dungeon, and 5 Adv into the Cave of the Stone Giants, clearing 5 floors. The gained an old scroll (+ temp Mag), a pair of old potions (++ temp Adv), a powerful Staff of Elemental Flame (+1 Mag Item), and an Ancient Crown of Majestic Dragons (+1 Rep Item). The necromancer slays 2 adv in their battle and a crafty stone giant steals loot from an adventurer leaving the caves.


Legion of Balance
Mor 7

The Legion sent 2 adv into the Minotaur's Labyrinth and cleared two floors. They gained an old tomb of divine magic for the dwarven priestess and an old tapestry of the gods (++ temp Rep).


Pillar of Wisdom
Mor 5

The Pillar sent 2 adv into the Warped Cave and cleared 2 floors. They gained an old wand (++ temp mag), and a bar of platinum (++ temp eco).

Forest of the Willow
Mor 3

The Willow sent 2 Adv into the sunken forest and cleared 2 floors. They gained a skeleton made of ancient gold (++++ temp eco).


Ironfang Republic
Mor 9

The Ironfang sent in 2 adv and cleared 2 floors. They came out with an ancient potion (+ temp adv), and what seems to be the first piece of an ancient dwarven exploration machine artifact. Discovery of the artifact unleashed a swarm of tiny crystal constructs (Lesser monster unleashed).

Free City of Khasal
Mor 4

The City of Khasal sent 2 adv into the Old Place and cleared 2 floors. They gained ancient texts that they passed to Nalar (4xp), and a rare jewel (+ temp Eco).

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour



A lone voice calls out to the infestation.
OOC: So, turns out I am in need of 2 MAG for end of turn. Do you have some to spare? If so, what would you need in return?

[GameOfChampions]

Izoran the Unchained
Public

Templars,

Your offer is a generous one. We shall consider it in depth along with our others. You seem powerful and wealthy, a perfect combination for our needs.

Our Thanks,
Remnants of the Brotherhood


Church,

We shall keep your offer in mind as we consider our options, our fellows that have joined you seem happy enough. Your might would be a powerful safeguard against our enemies.

Our Thanks,
Remnants of the Brotherhood



Legion of Balance
Mor 7

Greetings,

We are willing to fight by your side, the Shemesh will be no problem but we would welcome cooperation against the Church that have landed on these shores and put their nose where it does not belong.

Regards,
Lady Darkseeker



Pillar of Wisdom
Mor 5

Greetings Mighty Paladins,

While we believe that you may not hold the irritating Shemesh as friends the fact is that you cooperate with them and aid them in their pointless war against the legion. Comrades of circumstance is still comrades of a sort. We are not wiling to cooperate with you at this time while you are still nominally associated with the mindless clergy. Please reach out to us at a time when your relationship has been fully severed.

Regards,
The Jade Wizard

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg


To the Most esteemed Church of the Truth Speaker,

Your proposal is confusing to us.
What use would it be for us to share our bid, and what more information would it grant you than how to outbid His Templars?

Know that we have personal interest in gaining the servitude of the pit fiend, and that we are willing to invest much. We consider the Church valuable partners and loathe the prospect of us harming each other senselessly by trying to outbid the other.

Therefore, we would consider it a great favour, and prudent, if you would abstain.

Another issue - the Silvermist seems to be sorely lacking in tact and respect which would be expected from the defeated looking for peace.

We trust you do not plan to bow before their arrogance.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour

[n0ble]

May your consumption of the Legion not yield indigestion


Just confirming I got your confirmation on our deal for this turn.




A cavalcade of voices, a chorus, all different yet yoked under a sinister baritone, respond in kind to the lone voice.

Sure, I've got it to spare. Say, 3 temp Econ for my 2 temp magic and the agreement to maintain a dialogue for trade for the next season.

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg


Groups of dark elf slaves are seen pushing carts towards the infected lands.
Very good, deal. Looking forward to more trade.



To the Most esteemed Bruthazmus the even-tongued,

Time is running short if there are still arrangements to be made for troop movements. You told us you would reach out to the Crusade once a plan of attack is agreed upon, yet you have not done so.

Has the offensive been postponed?
We hope you have not bowed before the Silvermist's arrogance unbecoming of the beaten.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour


To the Theocracy of Shemesh:

"Light is but the humble image of the Flame." Althudor stated solemnly.
"I believe there is noone that can say in truth they are not devoted to a certain kind of perception. Ours is not to see everything in slavery, though - that's just how we see the followers of Shemesh. But it is good that you are offended. Now bring a bit of that fire into the hearts of your leadership. If there is one left."

"Kara-Tey and Alinoi." Althudor responded, after a short pause quickly adding "Herbs from the homeland.", in anticipation of Hotpase' ignorance of native plant life of the other side of the world.
"Did you know tea was the sole cultural aspect that once united all the nations of Hanrui thousands of years ago?"

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective


The letter is found on Captain Goldfinder's desk. It bears three short sentences, written in exquisite calligraphy.

The debt is settled.

As you broke your oath, we have broken you.

You reap what you sow.



Long overdue, but better late than never.

[GameOfChampions]

Turn 6

“A great civilization is not conquered from without until it has destroyed itself from within.” - Ariel Durant

Winter gives way once more to the cleansing winds and waters of spring then to the heat of summer. The continents of Hanrui glow in the flames of war as nations march and cities burn.

Mists Fill the Vale

The forces of Silvermist gathered in their last city, led by their mighty leaders. Grock, the young firebrand, who lit a fire under their nation to strive for more. His father, Captain Goldfinger, the magical gnome who left the life of adventure behind to lead his people. Finally the mighty ancient adventurer warforged brought to life by the adventurers and now willing to fight and die for his rescuers.

Former adventurers of all races gather behind them, what they lack in uniformity they make up for in determination. They ready their city defenses, gathering arrows and spears along the walls and reinforcing gates. The mists swirl around their forces and dance about the city as they await their foes.

A dozen companies of Dwarven infantry, siege engineers, rune priests, some militias raised from the populace who were willing to fight for their King, and even some mercenaries. Mighty walls of shield dwarves cover the less defended support troops and ranged forces. Rune priests travel through the ranks, inscribing weapons and armor with powerful runes to protect them. Thousands march against Silvermist.

Their allies march with them. Several units of goblin scouts and skirmishers march with their dwarven allies. The lightly armored goblins flow through the mists eyes drinking in all the details to feedback and their weapons gripped tightly.

By the next day the matter is decided. A grudge is settled and a nation sundered. The great leaders of the Silvermist lay slain or vanished along with the majority of their armies. Some of the former adventurers fled into the wilderness while others fled into the countryside. The ruined city is now controlled by the dwarves.

The dwarves have made history, breaking apart another nation with their force of arms alone. Gain Title, Nation Breakers: Take the last territory of a nation (+1 Mil)


Wraiths and Wizards

The outer lands of the Pillar fall easily, only maintained as a port of convenience for goods too irritating or unnecessary to waste teleportation on. The various fishing villages and towns on the edges surrender with ease. The towns closer to the heart of Pilar territory put up a fight with their resident mages devastating troops and dispelling wraiths. However without more serious forces from the Pillar they fall as well.

Then they arrive at the mouth of the mountain range, and find the path to the Pillar of Wisdom... blocked. A massive enchanted wall stands before the approaching forces, manned by magitech constructs of enchanted stone and iron. Small air elementals are bound to the towers from which they fly over their wall and surrounding lands to scout for intruders. The wall stops their forces in their tracks and when they try to attack they are stymied from all angles, the wall progressing all around the mountains with tireless and ever watching sentinels.

The Wraith forces and their allies are stymied by the discovery of the massive defensive fortifications the wizards had created by between the two mountain ranges and manned with constructs and summoned air elemental scouts along with their own order of wizard knights. The forces of the Wraiths and Khasal are stopped cold, unable to get past the wall with their current forces.

On an unrelated note however a massive magical water spout ravages the newly refurbished city of Khasal, causing several companies to defect. They join the faction capable of defending them from powerful magic, the Pillar of Wisdom. They are ferried in through teleportation by the mages they make contact with. Others take what liquid assets they can from the city and flee into the night, leaving a distraught populace behind.


Izoran, Chained Once More

Izoran the Unchained bows before the templars, accepting masters once more for the sake of protection, hoping these new masters would be different from the mad necromancers that summoned him and his kind. The show of power from the Templarsis very influential on the powerful Pit Fiend. The Grand Admiral in his Ancient Red Dragon Plate Armour with an army of warriors escort Izoran the Unchained to the Crusader State. They bring much Mithril armour and well-made weapons to present to the mighty devil.

Izoran is greatly influenced by the powerful forces and the expensive gear and weapons. He joins his might to theirs and the few followers he escaped with. While Izoran may be chained once more he is just as ferocious as ever.


Diplomatic Unions

A group of foriegn powers, bound together by a dream of helping the common man, are investigating the state of Hanrui and the lot of the commoners in the ongoing wars and conflicts. They have warned the nations of their investigation and now walk unseen through your cities and countrysides, sending reports every month to their masters.

Those they deem of matching their values and standard will be reported on and they will send aid to the most valiant of those who try to aiud their fellow man.

Mor competition to see who can be the most inventive and have well thought out plans.


Magical Flux

Years of high powered magical rituals reshaping nature, laughing at the laws of physics, calling on the divine to warp reality, and natural events punching holes through the planes into others have caused the Weave to destabilize.

Mages have started to notice that once simple magical acts have grown more complex and difficult, causing a possible failure chance to everything. Researchers and arcane theorists have begun frantic research and are certain they will have answers in the next few months but are now frantically rewriting the entire current school of magical thought.

Mag failure chance for all actions, stat investments, VIP creation, long term projects, etc.


Expansion

The world has now filled to the brim. Various cities, towns, villages, and roving tribes have pledged to their select nations in order for support. On Rivaness the Astral Collective has snapped up the last piece of undeclared land. On Kyrsull the recently arrived Ironfang Republic and City of Khasal have moved into the last remnants of the Brotherhoods lands, leaving none left. Nex now is controlled by the Wraiths but for one hold out in the center of the isle.

[Writtensanity]

Thayda had been watching the sunlight glimmer on the massive statue of the Voice for the past several hours. The temperature had turned a week ago and the ice that had coated the entire Fortress of First Words was slowly dripping away and playing light shows across the courtyard, it was beautiful to watch and she didn't have much to do today. She may have been a Grand Voice in all technical terms but her rise from the Voice had been sudden and there hadn't been a lot of duties moved over to her yet. She, for the most part, was a representative around the Church and that left her with freedom to watch Winter melt away.

Around the statue, new recruits to the cause filed out for their first days of active patrol in Church lands. Ever since Thayda had heard the Voice, she'd been told that most of the chorus ended up marching to war drums in her name eventually. Some farmers kept farming, but most of them traded in their plowshares for swords. At this point, Thayda could have sworn that the Church had the biggest army on all of Hanrui, but she wouldn't have been able to confirm that.

Taking another look up at the sun, Thayda guessed that her meeting was coming up soon, and now that Winter was over, there was a new set of Seasons to conquer.




The sun is wonderful this time of year. I am grateful to see us all having come out of the cold more-or-less in one piece.

We would be happy to host the council this season.

Grand Voice Khal






Dearest Legion of Balance,

We do not know when this war is going to end, but if we understand your traditions our time of reconsideration is at hand. Thought we have rarely met on the battlefield, I can say that it would be pleasing to not have to meet you on the battlefield ever again.

Of course that is your choice.

Grand Voice Syas,






How do you fare after the last season our neighbors?






We are reaching out in reference to our trade agreement, shall it remain standing?



3 temp ECON once more?





What do you consider your chances during the coming months with the new enemy of Khasal and the Wraiths coming down upon you? Are you in need of aid or economic stimulation? Let us know.






As you may have noticed, the grand casters of our lands have been confounded by the way magic has weaved in the past days. A rewrite of most magical scripture is needed. The Church of the Truth Seeker has several powerful casters in our ranks who can turn even the most twisted magical laws into something useable. Because of this we are offering to take this 'tainted' magical energy from this season off your hands.

Please let us know if your academies have anything to send,

Grand Voice Jeleva.


To those of you without the Vips to mitigate failure chances, here is a chance to trade the magic for some good ol' raw stats. Not quite a 1-1 rate but definitely less risky than keeping the magic and using it without VIPS




Flyers arrive in the coming days after the letter is delivered


FORTUNE

FAME

GLORY

PURPOSE

The Church of the Truth Seeker is looking for brave adventurers to explore the exciting temples from our lands. From extradimensional shadow places to jungle temples, we have everything your party has dreamed of!

Talk to your local governor today for a sponsored trip to explore an exotic land!

Grand Voice Khal, Economic Master of the Church




We are looking to trade for adventurers this season to help with some of the dungeons we haven't gotten quite far enough into. We can offer MIL, ECON, or REP for them.

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg


The lone voice calls out to the infestation once more. "Our cooperation has been beneficial. Let us continue."
Can you spare a couple adventurers this turn? Anything you need?



To the Most esteemed Bruthazmus the even-tongued,

We are concerned by your lack of communication. You must have known of Khazn Durn's plans.
There could have been an unnecessary clash between the dwarves' forces and our own had we gone though with the agreed-upon assault.
Do we have reason to distrust your honour?

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour

[Hamste]

The Wraiths

14 morale

Chemosh smiles as he walks for the first time in years. His bones still creak and groan as he walks and his skeletons hold his arms carefully but this has been the most mobile he has been for years. He hobbles over and slides into a bath tub filled with alcohol. A skeleton presents a plate of some sort of raw meat to Chemosh. Carefully taking the meat Chemosh dips it in his bath tub before shoving it into his mouth. Pointed teeth rip and tear the meat apart as he chews it still smiling. The first solid food he had eaten in over 3 years and it was delicious. For hours Chemosh enjoyed the little things in undeath before finally moving back to his desk to write.



Please be aware any assistance given to the Pillar will break the peace summit as it would very much be a harmful action to us. Please do not assist them at this time particularly seeing they started the fighting.


Though if you are willing to broker a peace, I'm definitely interested in at least talking though not sure about Khasal. Tried to get Ironfang to assist with peace talks before but they didn't reply. This has been going on for way too long and to be honest not entirely sure why they attacked. We are similar in so many ways. Similar modus operandi of minimal casualties, both use magic and stealth, both me and the Jade Wizard are curious about magic though I have harder limits on what I am willing to do than the Jade Wizard and we both live on the same lands. It should work well together.




...so now that you are down just to the Pillar do you want to do peace talks? Not quite sure why you started all this but both of us would probably be better off if we worked together. I mean look at those walls you made, it's an absolutely beautiful defence clearly built with incredible amounts of knowledge and skill. The integration of magitech into the golems was inspired. It's skill like that we are going to need to help with the ultimate ward and honestly this war is kind of pointless. Think of how we have acted, have you ever once heard of a Wraith doing anything even remotely evil? Did we slaughter your people in our counter attacks? Destroy cultural sites? Torture our citizens for our amusement? We even tried avoid harming people in our attacks, instead trying to get them to surrender.

We both follow similar rules, use similar methods and I can tell we are both insatiable in our curiosity. Think of all the new avenues we could open up for each other if we didn't fight. The theories we could form. What we could create.

Imagine a bastion of learning unlike any other. Already education centers are opening up in my cities and you have many followers always trying to push the limits knowledge.

Imagine an entire continent where everyone knows how to read, a continent where everyone has spent decades studying, a continent where knowledge is more important the silly needs of the body like food and water.

We could live on that continent if we work together.

Even if this doesn't convince you, would you at least be willing to have a meeting with us and a moderator? We have tried to get Ironfang and now the Truth Speakers to act as peace talk moderators.

[Janwin]

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn

MOR: 12
REP: 9

King Thurgin Wildhammer had only recently returned from the last summit and funeral, and it was time to deal with matters of his own Kingdom that had been left in the hands of others while he was gone. And so, like many times before, he found himself seated in his majestic throne room on the giant throne wrought from the finest metals and the hardest stones.

"Aye, I be in agreement tha' th' coastal provinces be th' most exposed, Mayor. An' we 'ave seen th' enemy's willingness t' strike at innocent commonfolk. Th' Kingdom 'as built significant defensive improvements since then, but if it be makin' ye feel better, I be willin' t' assign more dwarves t' yer territory t' defend and look over yer people."

The human man, dressed in the finest clothes he could muster for the audience, nods his acceptance. "That would make those within my province considerably more at ease. Thank you, my King."

The dwarf nods and gestures to an attendant, "'Ave th' orders written t' reassign th' 12th company to the north coast."

With that, the matter was concluded and it was on to the next. Something about needing more judges in the port city--seems the demons didn't like laws and they hadn't yet managed to replace those who were lost.

However, before the matter could be raised, a messenger comes running into the room. "My King! My King! Urgent news!"

King Thurgin nods, "Aye lad, step forward. What be th' news?"

The out of breath messenger steps forward before the throne and briefly catches his breath. "Thane Durstrim sends word. The attack was a success. The lands occupied by the Goldfinder Company have been liberated from their foul grasp, and their leaders are dead or scattered."

The normally stoic dwarf's face shows a small semblance of a smile, and then he straightens his face and nods once more with an approving grunt.

Once again, the command goes out: "Bring th' book!"

A finely dressed, aged attendant comes forward from one of the wings of the throne room carrying a massive tome with gold-gilded covers. The old dwarf stands before the throne and carefully opens the tome, holding it before the King. King Thurgin flips through the pages of the book until he finds the one he is looking for and then reaches into his pouch to produce a vial of ink and an inkpen. He carefully scrawls a rune on the page, covering the writing of the entry: the rune for "VENGEANCE".

The great horn of Khazn Durn then sounds, the loud, deep note echoing off the mountains and spreading far into the plains. It fills every nook and corner of the Great Hold, and even reaches into the territories of nearby allies.

And so it came to pass, that the Grudge was stricken from the book, and the Kingdom of Khazn Durn found itself once again at peace. The celebrations would last for weeks.



Grand Voice Khal,

The Dwarves would be honored to once again visit your great city for the summit.

With Honor,
King Thurgin Wildhammer

To the nations of Hanrui,

The Dwarf Hold of Khazn Durn is open to trade with interested parties. Of most interest to the Dwarf Hold are the services of brave adventurers, treasures and precious metals or materials to aid in the continuation of festivities throughout our lands.

We can provide military advisers, arms and equipment, scouts, runes or diplomatic backing.

If interested, please write to Forgemaster Kargrin Firehammer.

Offering MIL, ESP, MAG or REP.
Seeking ADV, ECO or MOR.

[GameOfChampions]

Pillar of Wisdom
Mor 6

Greetings Esteemed Church of the Truth Speaker,
Converter of Devils,
Slayer of Dragons,
Champions of Good,

We would be most amenable for aid in our struggle against the forces of evil taking over Nex. The Wraiths and flesh warpers of Khasal are persistent foes and an esteemed church such as yourself would know how troublesome evil can be to stamp out.

We also have several battlemage adventurers wiling to travel to your dungeons to aid in your clearing of them. We would accept (+++) Econ for our battemages (++) adv and if possible the opportunity to buy any magic items you may find.

Sincerely,
Arcturus
The Jade Wizard,
Master of the Pillar,
Bulwark of Good


Wraiths,

You act as if taking our barely noticed coastal lands is a reason for us to bow and scrape in fear. Talk to us when you have the capability of breaching our wall. This started because you treat those wraiths as if they were living breathing people to be dealt with and interacted with instead of the horrifying perversions of life that they are. If your wraiths were not bound by your dark magics they would be hunting down and destroying every spark of life they could get their hands on. Congratulations for controlling the base instinct of your Wraiths with your bindings and necromancers and not allowing them to run rampant but that changes nothing and proves nothing. Without the hand of your necromancers they would be as any other wraith that wanders this world.

We are nothing like you and the idea you think so if offensive to the bone. We do not brutally rip the dead from their afterlife to do our work and pervert our bodies with dark magics. We do not deal with horrific flesh warping mages.

We are of course willing to meet moderators and other esteemed nations however with your dark arts and desire for Nex we see no proper end in sight.

Sincerely,
Arcturus
The Jade Wizard,
Master of the Pillar,
Bulwark of Good

[St. Justicar]

Free City of Khasal

All messages essentially public



So, to be brief-congratulations on your new province and warbeast, respectively, Lia promises work on the latter will be done in a few days, and we've obviously got a bit more to discuss. I'm going to be busy, but if you'd both like to come visit lovely Khasal again this season?





Hail to the Magus of Jade,

I take offense to the accusation, but truly i was growing worried you were nothing but a wizened husk glorified in your mausoleum. A pleasure to properly make the acquaintance of a master of the art, I hope you will remain amongst us for some time.

Truly, I have no fundamental quarrel with you, save the mercenary companies that have fled to hide under your skirts. Unless you seek a vendetta, I'm certain a truce of a year or two might be arranged, if absolutely nothing else.

-The Exalted Lia Misri, Beloved of the Architect, Weaver in Blood and Bone, Mother of Monsters




To the Immortal General Azaersi,

Our aid has been fruitful in rebuilding your kingdom's coterie of shadows and assassins, I trust? It is gladdening to see your war against the devils and gnomes brought to such a glorious end, whatever the losses.

But now that it is done, what future does this continent hold for you? We are neighbors now, after all, and my ears are open to any plans you might have.

-The Magnificent Vyas Asraya

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 9
Reputation 8

"Exactly how long has she been down here?"

Tinny - formerly digger first class in the seemingly endless ruin that was the Crystalforge, now demoted to a mere tunneler after the disastrous release of the titanic golem last fall - stared off the wooden bridge into the chasm of broken shale and limestone, scratched his head, and launched a loogie down into Hell’s Own Shadow.

He waited for the spitball, which he’d been working on for the better part of fifteen minutes so as to maximize its mass, to hit the bottom of the immense mineshaft, and as usual was disappointed when no sound greeted him. Grinning lopsidedly, he turned to face the visitor and his armed escort. Big official this one was, though lanky under the robe and iron link chain around his neck. The guards were not so thin at the wrist; Tinny figured they could crush him with those mauls and shields pretty easily.

Then again, they would need to catch him first, and getting one’s hands on a cave goblin in their natural environment was next to hopeless.

"It’s not like we get much day down here, so why don’t you tell me! She came to crush those little blighters, the walking gemstones what got Wrench and the northern crews after the last of your lot cleared the most recent floor." Tinny gestured for the others to proceed, waiting for the furred goblin in charge - he’d just decided that his name would be Moustache - before casually kicking up some gem dust in the face of one of the guards. As he spluttered and waved the detritus out of his face, Tinny got to patting him down and lifting his pocket for good measure.

Well, that was just sloppy, that was. Carrying your hard-earned money in a loose pouch like that; good gold deserved better than to left so vulnerable to the elements! Tinny knew that he would take good care of every coin. He would make sure it stayed nice and safe and dry, yes he would. Waving his hands up in apology for the misstep, he pointed out to Moustache where the next bend in the tunnel was.

Not that it was of much help; it seemed as though Moustache could already hear the measured, lonesome clicks and clanks of metal striking rock. His ears perked up, and he stride lengthened over the uneven mine floor. A not-insignificant part of Tinny hoped that he would trip; it always made for a great laugh when the odd bigwig adventurers or arrogant official took a tumble down a side passage. However, this one seemed to know his business well enough, and before long was leading the way even past the reach of the torches.

Following closely behind, Tinny observed Moustache round the corner of the passage and come face to face with a jumble of hapless rock. There, wielding a pickaxe of goblin steel, stood the Glory Girl; Tinny called her that on account of her great red coat with all of its medals, which he had to admit was more of a mottled brown now. She stood amid the field of ruin, four splintered sets of mining tools strewn to the side of the makeshift corridor. Her back was still turned to them, but sweat covered her bald pate.

"Aza," Tinny heard Moustache say gently. Golden Girl slowly lowered the pickaxe, though she did not reply.

"Aza," the robed official repeated with a bit more iron in him, "it’s been nearly a month. Ever since the funeral in Oprak, you have holed away here, hiding from the rest of the world. Or have you forgotten your place, among the stones? Would you look at me, at least?"

A pause, and then Golden Girl spoke, her voice in worse shape than pig iron left out in the rain. "There was a report of another monster breach, the second in less than a year. I thought I would handle it, to make safe the Crystalforge."

"And then you just... what, decided to become a miner?" Moustache shook his head scornfully. "If you want to bury yourself down here, after everything he did for you - "

There was a clatter as the tool that the Golden Girl had been holding hit the hewn rock floor, but he had already moved, pinning Moustache against the wall with a speed that took even Tinny aback. His eyes widened as he saw that the hobgoblin had pulled out a blade during her movement and even now held it to Moustache’s throat.

"Go on," she hissed, purple eyes little more than slits, "talk about him again. Do you think I won’t open your throat right here, lawmaker?"

To his credit, Moustache did not flinch. If Wrench hadn’t been torn apart in her sleep by flesh-eating garnets, she would have just won a bet about the voiding of bladders. When the diplomat spoke, it was in a perfectly even tone. "I apologize for the slight, Immortal General. I only came down here to inform you that you won - Silvermist is destroyed. Our enemies in Kyrsull are dead. The Third Legion is bringing home Captain Goldfinder’s head, to put it on display from the city gates. A grisly trophy, but fitting, given their new cognomen: Heroesbane."

The last word lingered in the air like a lover’s promise.

Clenching her jaw, Golden Girl eventually pulled the weapon away from Moustache. She took a deep breath, and when she stretched up to her full height, Tinny felt a little tingle of what might have been fear - or else something maybe a little bit further down. "Heroesbane," she echoed. "Fitting indeed."

The furred goblin straightened the collar of his robes. "They will be returning to the capital within the fortnight, but there are other troops that need requisitioning. The west is full of uncertain players, and even as our alliances are strong, there is yet the chance your expertise will be needed." Sensing his moment, Moustache sidled closer. "Azaersi, your people still need you. You were brought back from death itself until your task was done, and a place had been forged for us. Kraelos believed Hanrui to be that vow made real, as do I.

So dust yourself off... and get back to work."

Dearest High Priestess,

You have my most sincere apologies for the lack of communication at the end of the winter assault on Silvermist. Unfortunately, the death of one of our own led to some unexpected turmoil at the top of our command structure, which delayed many of our missives. The Council itself had to intervene at the eleventh hour to even join the fray at Silvermist, and yet here we are.

We remain committed to friendship with the Templars, and hope that we may remain on good terms in the years to come. There are yet enemies on Kyrsull that pose a threat to all life; the Republic, along with her allies the Dwarves of Khazn Durn and the Church of the Truth Speaker, would see them eradicated. If you would wish to fight alongside us truly in the field of war - to prove our honour - our legions would be more than happy to oblige.

Sincerely yours,

Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic

I apologize for the lack of reply last round; I set up the assault with the dwarves but forgot to check this game on my subscription list and so missed that you had sent me a message until after EoT. I hope an OOC oversight won’t cause in-game trouble for us!
Greetings Maestro Vyas,

I find myself behind a desk for the first time in a while. My absent reply was due to a grief that was my own, and for that I am sorry. I am pleased that the Council of Clans was able to finalize our trade deal in my absence, though I have returned into the fold and will be marching my legions

In the absence of a foe to fight, the Republic is taking stock of its friends, both at home and abroad. I hope that I can count on your people to be reliable in these times. While our magefolk are still at work deciphering the strange happenings around the world, I know that Khasal is far more equipped in equipment and personnel to deal with these so called ‘flux events’. To that end, I want to strike a deal with you.

In exchange for our shared magical expertise and use of our information network, I would ask an extended stay of your diplomats and your building of an embassy in Oprak. This will make future deals easier for us both, and allow for more open communication between us.

- General Azaersi

Given the rather... unfortunate event this round, I am willing to offer you 4 MAG and 2 ESP for any combination of 4 REP / ECO. As I have no MAG VIPs, you would be putting that stat to more use than me, hence the discount.
The reply comes by hobgoblin Blade-Peers, each one riding a yak in ceremonial armor. The season of war is over, yet they do not forget their traditions.

The Secretary General has left his schedule open to attend the summit of Rivaness.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

http://u.cubeupload.com/Zweanslord/GoldenRays.jpg
Source: http://iheartloons.tumblr.com/post/11028394563/illuminating-the-heart-this-image-was-received

The Light falls on our brothers and sisters
Candles we burn in memory
The horrors burned in our sight
The death caused by Darkness

We bring our lanterns
We illuminate with our Light
We pray to Shemesh
We cast away the Darkness

Public message to the Church of the Truth Seeker

A pilgrim arrives at the territory of the Church of the Truth Seeker on the same continent, though looking somewhat hesitantly. “Greetings, I am Ryetretu of the Theocracy of Shemesh.” The female pilgrim dusts her white dress, coughs and then with a bit more confidence proceeds. “I have received word from the Church and come to respond. Unfortunately, it fares badly. The Legion of Darkness has struck again, causing death and mayhem, putting out the lights of many of my brothers and sisters, spreading Darkness throughout this continent. Please tell me the Church of the Truth Speaker managed to strike and lessen the hold of Darkness over these lands.”

Public message to the Pillar of Wisdom

A pilgrim walks up to the wards of the Pillar of Wisdom and politely knocks, having a scroll at the ready, which simply states “Amymonq is a diplomatic Pilgrim of the Theocracy of Shemesh.” and waits until a mage or wizard arrives. “Greetings, I am Amymonq of the Theocracy of Shemesh. I wish to ask for a truce between the Pillar of Wisdom and the Theocracy of Shemesh. The Theocracy seeks no harm to you and war need not continue.”

[St. Justicar]

The Free City of Khasal



Your offer is a fair one, and one several of my friends would strike me for not accepting out of hand. But this affair with the Viridian Magister may yet require all the diplomats and rumor-mongers that call my City home, should it escalate. For now, let us call it a deal, but should war properly loom I may yet have to renege

Done, for 4 Rep, with the proviso that I may have to cancel if the Pillar doesn't accept a truce

[Hamste]

Morale 14
Country of Wraiths



Arcturus
The Jade Wizard,
Master of the Pillar,
Bulwark of Good

I'm not saying grovel, I'm saying equal. I even tried to get peace before the offensive though didn't bother with out the moderator responding. I genuinely want to make something greater and this is kind of pointless waste of everyone's resources.

I suggest you do some more looking into what the wraiths were doing before we arrived. The way they act is completely different from what you are saying and has interesting implications.

Also brutally ripped from the after life is a bit of an over statement, isn't it? We very much try to raise the dead immediately after death while the soul is still near the body. It helps with memory and personality retention and makes the ressurection easier. I have a few books you might be interested in on gray necromancy as opposed to the more darker forms.


I also have to ask, if everyone consents to flesh warping, what's the problem? It's their body. It even has some interesting applications in body repair, though not really my area of expertise.

Anyways I will continue trying to get the moderator and am glad you are at least willing to have talks. Hopefully, this can all be sorted out and we can finally have peace in our lands.

Sincerely
King of the Wraiths Chemosh
Educator of the Dead,
Protector of the People



Sounds good to me. I'm busy stabilizing magic but Jenkins will come visit.

[n0ble]

Indeed it has. There is much to discuss.


I have 2 adventurers to trade the use of. Does any combination of Inf./Esp. totally 4 sound like a fair trade? I'm also thinking on some sort of diplomatic proposal, but its something that can wait until after the Midturn.





Indeed.


Not sure of the situation with the Legion, but also open to discussing the possibility of discussing their end.

[Lord Athos]

The Templars of Our Burning Saviour

https://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/the_oracai_templar_order__191093.jpg


"You have our attention."
Sounds certainly doable. 4 Esp for your 2 Adv. Done. Looking forward to your proposal.



To the Most esteemed Bruthazmus the even-tongued,

The loss of a great leader can bring great uncertainties, especially in wartime.
We have also heard of your information network being sabotaged.
Know we bear no grudge.


Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour



[
The High Master (3 Adv) heads into the Cave of the Stone Giants with multiple units of adventuring knights (9 Adv), trying to clear them out for good.

The Grand Admiral (1 Mil), wearing red dragon plate (1 Mil) heads into the Plains to investigate the Magical Infestation with some units of Sariant Warriors ( 2 Mil) and Balamite scouts (2 Esp) They are led by Aventurers from Khasal (4 Adv)

2 adv from the Fungal Combine and 1 Adv from Khasal are scouting a route from 19 to 31.

[Writtensanity]

Pardon, when did the Pillar attack you? We have no declaration of war on record from them. As far as we can discern the last season's attack was the only offensive action that has officially happened between the two of you. You are the aggressor.

We are going to offer aid to a nation that is under siege. You shall not see us on the battlefield, but we will offer our economy as an opportunity for trade.





That trade is agreeable.





We and the Legion are locked in a bitter standstill. There was no blood spilled in the past seasons.






2 ADV from Pillar, Sylas and a MIL into the 20th floor of the Temple of the Soul Singer (Total of 5 stats or 4 floors)

1 Personal ADV, Grand Voice Dawn (MIL1, ADV1) wielding the Scepter of Storms, + 1 MIL, into the Shadow Mirror (6 Points of Clearing into the Shadow Mirror)

Zeneith MOR 2 VIP, Myra (Tier 2 MIL) (total of 6) Jungle Temple

[3SecondCultist]

The Ironfang Republic
Morale 9
Reputation 8

Greetings, Tyrant of the Broken Shore,

Your tentative deal is acceptable to us for now. We have actually offered our services as intermediaries in the ongoing conflict with the Pillar and the Wraiths of Nex, although they were rebuffed. We would be happy to restart some peacekeeping efforts alongside you in the summer, as a token of friendship.

- General Azaersi
Dearest High Priestess,

We here in Oprak are glad to hear of your sympathy. Our nation sees the Templars as worthy friends, and would like to resume our friendship in due course. Please let us know if you are entertaining the idea of engaging any of your western neighbours in a less diplomatic manner, and we would be happy to lend our aid.

Best regards,
Bruthazmus the Even-Tongued, Secretary General of the Republic
General Azaersi (MIL 2 / ADV 1) is leading 3 ADV and 2 more MIL into the Crystalforge; clearing 6 floors.

[Lord Athos]

Atena,

I have already made arrangements. I'm looking forward to our meeting.

Glory to the Flame,
Vestis of House Ionlar, High Priestess of the Cult of Our Burning Saviour

[GameOfChampions]

Midturn 6


Church of the Truth Speaker
Mor 10

The Church sent 2 ADV from Pillar, Sylas and 1 MIL into the Cursed Temple clearing 1 floors. 1 ADV, Grand Voice Dawn (MIL1, ADV1) wielding the Scepter of Storms, 1 MIL, into the Mirror of Shadow clearing 3 floors. Zeneith MOR 2 VIP, Myra (Tier 2 MIL) the Ancient Forest, they cleared 6 floors. They came out with the Summoners Totem (+! Adv item), a Wonder in a Bottle Artifact, found two Hanrui Hearts, some old potions ((++) adv), an ancient song crystal ((++) Rep), an ancient +1 Adv Dwarven Exploration Machine Artifact 2/2, some small gems ((++ Eco), a pair of old potions ((++) adv), some silver coins ((++) eco), a wealth of experience and ancient texts for Zenith (8xp), and an old wand ((++) mag). An old Shadow Dragon (Greater Monster Unleashed), and in the battle is Sylas injured 4 turns.

Astral Collective
Mor 9

The Astral Collective sent 4 MIL, 4 ADV, 2 ESP, and Zeilrae, Bound by Duty [Tier 1 MIL / Tier 1 REP] to clear 10 floors of the Caverns of Introspection. They returned with Divination Array Artifact, 4xp, (++) rep, (++) adv, (++) adv, (++) rep, +1 Mag item. Zeilrae was injured during their exploration (Injured 1 turn).


The Dwarf Hold of Kazhn Durn
Mor 11

The Dwarf Hold sent 3 adv, 4 Mil, (++) Adv into the Beholder Caverns and cleared 7 floors. They came out with a rare collection of abyssal reagents ((+++) Mag), 4xp for Thurgrim, a forgotten potion ((+) adv), and find ancient mirrors of long distance communication with the copies of an ancient king within them (+1 Rep Artifact for PMs). The battle with the massive mutated Beholder in the depths of the caverns cost many of the unprepared soldiers and some unlucky adventurers their lives (Lose 1 Adv, 3 Mil).


Templars of the Burning Savior
Mor 9

The Templars sent The High Master (3 Adv) into the Cave of the Stone Giants with multiple units of adventuring knights (9 Adv), clearing the dungeon. The Grand Admiral (1 Mil), wearing red dragon plate (1 Mil), with some units of Sariant Warriors ( 2 Mil), Balamite scouts (2 Esp), led by Adventurers from Khasal (4 Adv) head into the Plains to investigate the Magical Infestation, clearing 8 floors. They gained an ancient transportation artifact (+1 Mag Teleportation array 3/3), an old wand ((++) Mag), 4xp for admiral, several ancient histories of an extinct empire ((++++++) rep), a powerful Trident of Returning (+1 Mil), several potions ((++++) adv), a large ruby eye ((++++) eco), a powerful enchanted necklace ((++) mag), and a piece of what seems to be a desiccated corpse radiating an aura of death (Undead NPC nation 1/3). A Hanrui Heart. The giants flee after a battle, stealing some supplies as they go (Lose Basic loot).

Forest of the Willow
Mor 3

The Willow sent 2 Adv into the sunken forest and cleared 2 floors. They gained several rare herbs ((++) temp Mag)


Ironfang Republic
Mor 9

The Ironfang sent General Azaersi leading 3 ADV, and 2 more MIL to clear 7 floors. They came out with a powerful Staff of Enchantment (+1 Mag item), a large cache of rare crystals ((++++) eco), and a pouch of rare enchanting materials ((++++) mag). Discovery of the staff unleashed a corrupted work automaton (Lesser monster unleashed).

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Not for the first time that evening, Telhu cursed the jungle. What had they been thinking?

Him and his company – former Silvermist soldiers – had deserted nine weeks prior. Their captain – poor Virtus – had seen the writing on the wall. What had their honour and pride been worth, really? It couldn’t fill their bellies. So, they had fled south, and embraced the noble art of banditry in lands not yet ravaged by war. It should have been easy, really. And at first, it had been. Merchants in the Astral Collective employed few guards, if any. They had been easy pickings.

But two weeks prior, they had woken in the night to screams. Blurred figures, fading in and out of view, wielding blades that cut through armor like candlewax. Frantic, Telhu and the other deserters had grabbed what they could from their camp and had fled deeper into the jungle. Virtus has stayed behind, to buy them more time. And so the surviving forty-odd men had barreled through the thick foliage in search of safety for what seemed like hours.

They had found it, but it had cost them. Round-bellied Gorm, always full of laughter, had eaten the wrong set of berries as their meagre provisions dwindled. His had been an agonizing death, blood pouring from every orifice. He had not been the last to die to the dangers of the deep jungle. Gentle Harrim, stone-faced Norn, ever-moody Jillian…

Now there were only a score of them. Tensions were high as they waited for the agents of the Astral Collective to come.

Telhu shifted, watching the jungle for flickers of movement. He was expecting the shadows to stir, if anything happened at all. After four days of stillness, with nothing but the faint rustling of leaves and the sounds of animals in the distance, he was not expecting the world to suddenly upend itself in a storm of light and geometry. He could only watch as spiraling, fractal patters of light whirled into existence, surrounding their camp. Among the geometric storm, he could barely spot a figure, all jagged edges.

Dumbly, Telhu dropped his sword, useless against the arcane maelstrom that surrounded them. Shapes of light fragmented from the storm, wrapping around his wrists and binding him in place. The last thing he remembered before unconsciousness took him were the tears sliding down his face. How foolish they had been.

-------

Threats neutralized nullified negated.

Okrostos pivoted to face the captain of the guard who had accompanied him to secure the bandits. In truth, he didn’t need to turn to the woman. He had no mouth with which to speak, no eyes with which to see. Instead, he spoke directly into the minds of those around him, and saw the world through the eyes of every sentient creature within several miles. It would be impossible to explain to anyone who was not a shardmind, of course. He pitied them, truly. How dull must it be to be confined to a single perspective, to be shackled slaved subordinate to one set of senses.

“I trust that your men will have no issues collecting the bandits, now that they are secured suppressed subdued.”

Through the eyes of one of the woman’s lieutenants, he saw her flinch as he spoke directly into her mind, his ‘voice’ flat and emotionless. As always, there was a curious echo, where he both spoke the words telepathically and heard them through all who listened.

“Yes, Fractal Shaper. It will be done.”



My esteemed colleagues,

I write to you this day to implore you to reconsider your bitter conflict, your war waged through shadows and spells. Can you both not see that your petty squabbles ignore the greater danger that the Fungal Combine poses to Hanrui? Please, the Astral Collective urges you to seek a peaceful resolution to your quarrel. Both your nations have proven to be eminently reasonable; the Wraiths have proven themselves to be honourable, despite the reputation that necromancers rightfully deserve. And you did not become known as the Pillar of Wisdom without earning that title. Surely you can put aside your differences and let bygones be bygones in order to stop the greatest horror that Hanrui has ever seen.

With the utmost respect,

Yonren, Twelfth Speaker of the Council of the Astral Collective

[Writtensanity]

Around the continents of Hanrui, messengers, strangely on foot, pass out flyers and manifests to any member of Government that they can find. All of the legers read the same and all of them ask for a simple thing.




To the Armed Forces of Hanrui

We face an unprecedented time of peace in central Kyrsull. The evil demons and their traitorous adventurers are no-more. Yes, there is still conflict in the land, but for the first time in years armies have a moment to breathe. Let us celebrate this time of peace with a grand ceremony to take place in the Land of the Church of the Truth Seeker. Be part of History!

- You will not be used in any conflict involving any nation!
- You will be fed and taken care of for the entire seasons
- Your name will be written in the Church history

Let your superiors know that a season of luxury sounds right for you! We are offering Magical Power, Espionage, Morale or Political Repute for the opportunity to host you for a season.

Grand Voice Jeleva, Church of the Truth Seeker

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Church of the Truth Seeker

Ryetretu, pilgrim of the Theocracy of Shemesh receives word from the Church of the Truth Seeker and prays, meditates and ponders on next steps. When another letter arrives, she reads it. Not long after, she steps forward to the Church of the Truth Seeker again, the letter at her belt.

“A bitter standstill. You did not battle the Legion of Darkness last season, correct?”

[Writtensanity]

"Our passage across the lake has not been possible with the continuation of the storm. We don't have an angle of attack from our lands. Such is the will of the Voice."

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Church of the Truth Seeker

“The Church of the Truth Seeker never needed to cross the lake to attack the Legion of Darkness. Go through your allied forest and through the lands of the Theocracy of Shemesh. The Church of the Truth Seeker has free passage through our lands and continues to do so. There are plenty of angles of attack. Why did you not seek out the truth regarding angles of attack?”

[Hamste]

Country of Wraiths
Morale 14


No one ever actually uses declarations of war. It's almost like they are a terrible idea and by not declaring them you can get the other side blamed.

You can see the Pillar's magic each season pushing merchants away or making giant water spouts.

You should be able to check with Ironfang, this war has been ongoing for sometime. Even if you view us as the aggressor though, are you willing to mediate with the Astral Collective won't?


King of the Wraiths Chemosh
Educator of the Dead,
Protector of the People




We asked you for mediation help a season ago with no response. If you are still interested in mediating though that would be helpful.

King of the Wraiths Chemosh
Educator of the Dead,
Protector of the People




Yonren, Twelfth Speaker of the Council of the Astral Collective

We have actually looking for a mediator. We have wanted peace for awhile and the Pillar of Wisdom is willing to talk if there is a mediator though they hold some reservations. Khasal seemed willing to agree with peace as well. I think the Pillars main reservations ate about whether wraiths are people, will they one day be dangerous if the necromancers die out and is it humane to make new undead.

King of the Wraiths Chemosh
Educator of the Dead,
Protector of the People

[Writtensanity]

"AS much as we appreciate the name Pun, we don't consider putting the Willow in danger an option at the moment as they are busy recovering from the trapping of their lands. Additionally we don't consider a battlefront from your land to be a stable base, considering, based on history, our point of retreat might be taken from by the Legion when we are on the offensive. "

"We field the largest army in all of Hanrui, and this is not our first continent to push back against the will of the Voice. I do recommend you keep you don't confuse your personal opinions for legitimate input pilgrim of the Sun."



Pardon, during the peace treaty conversations we were adamant on declarations of war for a reason. They are honorable and keep things clean.

We are willing to commit to arbitration.





Esteemed Willow of the Last Light, Heralds of the Forest and Ancient Ways

We are ecstatic to hear that you have achieved your former glory in such a short time. Now that we both have had time to build we are asking for your assistance economically.

The forces of the Willow are mighty and we would ask to have them attend our grand ceremony this season, one to mark a new age in Hanrui.

We are happy to offer power in return for these warriors attending our ceremony. They will not be in harms way either.

Please see the enclosed dossier for specifics,

Grand Voice Hybert of the Church of the Truth Seeker



For the 8 MIL of the Willow we can offer,

10 MOR

up to 5 of that MOR can be Magic instead.

up to 3 of that MOR can be REP instead.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Church of the Truth Seeker

“There are territories to strike with multiple routes of retreat, which the Legion of Darkness can't all attack. As you say, you have the largest army, against which the Legion of Darkness should have no chance after your previous assault. It feels like a wasted opportunity to me to remain at standstill. The Willow is under no danger, far away from the Legion of Darkness. And otherwise,a path could be find to the lands of the Theocracy such as the Plateau of Seems Seba, or directly to the Legion of Darkness through the mountains. I wish to understand, I seek to hear. Please, shed light on why you remain silent against the horrors of the Darkness, instead of cleansing them with thunderous and radiant voice.”

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective

Morale 11



We would most certainly be willing to mediate between the two of you. I do not wish to insult our northern allies who have offered to arbitrate – as it is an open secret that we are working alongside the Church of the Truth Speaker – but I strongly believe that the Astral Collective would provide a… less rigid and more collaborative approach to mediation. Regardless, we would welcome any efforts towards establishing some measure of peace between you.

Please let us know if you are both amenable to this.

With the utmost respect,

Speaker Yonren,
Twelfth Speaker of the Council of Speakers of the Astral Collective





Greetings.

I hear you have been asking after me. Rest assured that I find your worship of my progenitor quite intriguing, and your devotion to me is noted. You would make fine vassals.

(There is a scribbled message here, written by whoever transcribed the letter: He seems to mean this as a compliment.)

I will be brief, as this sort of politicking bores me. We desire whatever espionage your nation can muster. We are prepared to offer you an equivalent amount of resolve or magic, whatever you would prefer. This would please me greatly.

Additionally, as a personal favour, I would like you to turn your aggression towards the Fungal Combine. Their very existence offends my sensibilities. If you take tangible action against them, I am prepared to offer you my services in the season to come. It is quite dull in these lands, though I appreciate their focus and ambition.

Zeilrae

Willing to make a 1:1 trade for ESP you have; I have MOR and MAG I’m willing to part with. Additionally, I would reward you with the services of Zeilrae (Tier 2 MIL/REP VIP) next turn for tangible and suitable action against the Fungal combine. Open to negotiation there.





Greetings on behalf of the Council of Speakers.

We trust that you fare well on Kyrsull. While we personally have no fondness for you – we hold order and subtlety in the highest regard, traits which you have not displayed in your dealings with the other nations of Hanrui. That said, you are a nation devoted to the ideals of Good, and so we would not easily watch you fall prey to the Legion or the Combine. As such, we would like to offer you a trade. For whatever espionage capabilities and reputation you possess, we are prepared to fortify the minds and hearts of your people in equal amounts.

Let us know what you think of such an arrangement.

Respectfully,

Garril, Twenty-Third Speaker of Council of Speakers of the Astral Collective.

Willing to make a 1:1 MOR-ESP/REP trade, for however much ESP and MOR you have.





Ah, how I wish I could correspond with Corrin. I miss our banter in these troubled times.

In the name of our past collegiality, I would like to offer you a deal of sorts. We have acquired an artifact with the capability to reveal the future, though we have not been able to narrow its predictions to the degree that we would like. Despite that, we believe that we know the shape of the coming season, and are prepared to share this knowledge in exchange for resources. Specifically, we would like [REP] or [ESP]. Trust me when I say that this information may be of particular interest to you.

Respectfully,

Kalira, Spymistress of the Astral Collective

My divination array artifact lets me see the events for the coming season by expending Magic. If you’d like to be able to plan for them ahead of time, then I’m willing to make a deal. How much ESP or REP are you willing to offer for that knowledge? ESP is preferred.

[n0ble]

Mor. 7


A completely untouched slave is sent back to the saviors, looking perhaps a bit more hale for having spent some time in the quarentine. Oddly, there is a letter in his hands:

His burning Templars,

I trust this missive finds you well and that your adventuring proved bountiful. I have given much thought to our commensalism. In this cold, dark world yours is a flame that others can flock to. From the now-digested slaves that you have sent me, I can see that among all the pious on this planet that would call themselves equals, yours is first among them. I find no hypocrisies in the pyres of your dead. Is there nothing Flame and Fungus cannot accomplish together? Let us see this commensalism turned to mutualism.

All my Hopes,
M. ominlateralis


Proposing a defensive pact/some sort of alliance between our nations, wherein we support each other. I have a few things to propose towards it, let me know if theres anything that jumps out at you in terms of red flags/things that are immediately disagreeable to you and we can discuss how to deal with them.

- The Templars will get access to the Combine's Adventure Sites. Special privileges can be made available to the Templars in terms of what they want from the Sites (within reason, though the Combine will be the ones to finish off any dungeons as thats the only way to get the bonuses from completion. If you want, negotiations over this can be discussed on a case by case basis rather than ouright being part the defensive pact.
- Open borders from the Combine, counting its territory as friendly for the purposes of moving Templar troops through it to other locations.
- That the defensive pact holds for the next 3 turns, whereupon we can discuss renewing it at your convenience. Im honestly pretty flexible on this and can stand to have it ad nauseum with some sort of need to give a 1 or 2 turns notice if you want to end it if that suits you better.
- Full sharing of the Combine's information with the Templars in return for the same. This can be handled in VIP chats or publicly, whatever your comfortable with.

Additionally, theres the small matter of me being at war with everyone. I don't plan on this being the case for long and would absolutely be alright with the Templars acting as a mediator in this capacity.




Morale 0
Church of Truth, but the reply and doubts therein are sent to everyone

Truly yours is a mighty army, to have been stalemated by the Legion this season past. The plunder you have offered me was in exchange for a secession of hostilties between you and I while conflict with the Legion loomed. As no hostilities are apparent between you and the Legion, I demand a renegotiation of our agreement.


You haven't told the Shemesh what your doing with your Mil this turn. Perhaps understandably, thats uh, got me a bit nervous. Im not accepting a middling three Econ just to be attacked by double your Mil next turn, nor am I attending a celebration that could see a lot of unaccounted for sharp ends pointed at me. Regardless, the Fungal Combine would very much like to attend, provided the Church of Truth can show it that theres nothing insidious at work behind the scenes. How does one attend?

Oh also, I'm amenable to peace talks if you are. What better way to kick off the celebrations, eh? :smallwink:

[Hamste]

Country of Wraiths
Morale 14


Given we asked of course we would be happy for you to mediate.

Sincerely,
King of the Wraiths Chemosh
Educator of the Dead,
Protector of the People




The Astral Collective has volunteered but if more mediation is needed we may need to ask you again. Thank you for being willing to mediate.

King of the Wraiths Chemosh
Educator of the Dead,
Protector of the People

[GameOfChampions]

Pillar of Wisdom
Mor 6

Greetings,

We are amenable to your arbitration and we are sure that a force of good as dedicated to the eradication of evil as you are will see the danger of the undead the Wraiths claim as their own. Surely one so dedicated to the eradication of devils and demons and those who aid them will see that the undead are another such enemy.

- We would like our lands back that were wrongfully taken from us with no declaration of war, just an attack by the undead and their allies from Khasal.

- We would like them to stop their horrible spread of their undead masses for at least a year through either expansion or magics. (No more territories taken or magic raised).

- Finally we would like public apology issued.

In return we are willing to give on these matters;

- We will swear to not invade any lands owned by the Wraiths like they so rudely did to us.

- We will allow them access to the shores of the land they give back to us for their wards.

- We will try to stop whomever seems to be attacking them and their allies.

[Hamste]

Country of Wraiths
Morale 14


Again, look at what the Wraiths were doing they hardly acted dangerously before we came and just sort of went along with their job.

-We agree with returning the lands. We are also agreeable with altering the wards to insure it doesn't pose a potential problem with the Pillar.

-We agree to no more expansion unless someone gives us the magic, in which case it will be held in a safe area until the year is up.

-We agree to the public apology on the condition that one comes from the Pillar as well for the initial merchants fleeing. We can ignore each of us apologizing for the tit for tat afterwards but we would like it to be clear the initial escalation happened years ago. Not like most people know about the shadow war we had anyways and we can keep it that way but we would rather it be clear that it was not completely unprovoked.


-What you are offering us seems fair.

We would like to add though
-Neither of us can steal or destroy resources from the other using any of our means. We would rather have a full descalation rather than a minor one. We can still spy on each other to see what the other is doing and similar things just no directly attacking the other.

- We would like to offer a similar defensive pact as the pillar offered us in that we will try to stop whomever is attacking them.

-While not a requirement for this treaty we would like to work with the Pillar on additional education programs. A well educated populace is a productive populace. We believe that we could both benefit from the exchange of ideas and more education centers to truly make Nex a center of learning. Even if you don't want to right Now, at least keep in mind we are open to it.

The last point is just suggesting a long term project with them working together to increase education across all of Nex.

[GameOfChampions]

Pillar of Wisdom
Mor 6

That is all agreeable except for two points.

- First we will not work with you on any joint projects, you are monsters who raise the dead and use them for your own ends. I'm sure the Balamites who mysteriously died to hundreds of wraiths 'randomly' appearing in their city would agree with your assessment if they hadn't been murdered by undead but since they can't we will refuse. I'm sure our dead from the towns you invaded would also be willing to speak up if they hadn't been killed for trying to defend their lands from foreign invasion. Our people already have beacons of education and magic available to them, we don't see the need to burden ourselves with the education of you and yours. Let your people defect to us if you want them educated that badly.

- We will not be tricked into accepting the responsibility for the attack on you by whomever was responsible. You have no proof that it was us or our mages so we would appreciate you stop slandering our good name with baseless accusations. We will make no apologies.

[Writtensanity]

To the Theocracy of Shemesh


"You really are adorable," the angel looks down on the Pilgrim, "I understand that you wish to know everything that is going on within the Church, but, unless you are a member of the Church hearing her radiant Voice then I am not going to share that information with you."

"As it turns out, unlike the Theocracy who have proven that most of their military action involves losing, the Church prefers to act tactfully in the face of an enemy. We do not grovel for prayers and resources, we do not cede our land year after year while asking others to take care of it for us. Instead we understand that was is a game of seasons. The Legion is a larger force than we can evaporate. If I wanted an example of a force we could cleanse with our 'thunderous voice' whenever we wanted. It would be yours.

The angel nods to the Pilgrim, I hope that explains both everything and nothing."




We are happy to pursue peace. As long as it is peace for all of Hanrui rather than just ourselves. Should your consumption continue we are destined to fight, one unified voice against another.

We can assure you that none of the forces we are calling to ceremony in the Church lands are being used to prepare an attack, as we assured them their people would not be harmed. If you wish to send a delegate or a single regiment to witness the Ceremony, we are happy to commit Guardmages to prevent them from spreading spores and let them return to your lands with information.




If you wish to know what is happening there beyond GM fluff at the stat of season (if there is that!) then 1 MIL or a VIP will be enough for me to tell you everything that is happens with the amassed MIL stats this turn. That would include 'Was banked for future attack'

[n0ble]

Morale 0


My Combine will attend. You will provide for them.



Morale 7


I will not mince words. That is not my way. They say all magic is change. That is what I have wrought upon my lands: you need only to quest for the minds I have subsumed to know they arent really gone. Just locked away for the proper genius to utilize. My singular mind is agreeable to this. What are you agreeable to between myself and yours?


Simple, looking for peace.

[St. Justicar]

Free City of Khasal

Yes you can read them



Hail to the Immortal General Azaersi

The revenants and mystics seem well on the road to peace, if your offer stands I would be happy to take it.





Hail to the Walker in Shadows,

The offer is certainly appreciated, but for the moment I must decline on the City's behalf. Our celebrants and shades are more dearly needed elsewhere, these coming months. Some other time, perhaps.

May your flesh never be a prison,
The Exalted Lia Misri, Beloved of the Architect, Weaver in Blood and Bone

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Astral Collective



As the mediator in this conversation, I would like to ask that both of you please refrain from insults.

I understand that there is an irreconcilable difference of opinion regarding necromancy. To the Pillar, I understand your discomfort with the Country of Wraiths’ practices – in many ways I do share it. However, they have proven themselves to be amenable to cooperation and compromise, and as such I would categorize them as a much lesser evil than the Fungal Combine.

If the Pillar is not willing to apologize for these alleged actions – and I am not commenting on whether or not they occurred – then it does not seem fair that the Country of Wraiths apologize for their actions. I would instead suggest that they publicly announce a cessation of hostilities, and announce that they are returning the lands they took their rightful owner. Please see the suggested terms below.

Based on the discourse so far, it seems as though cooperation is not an option; I believe we should simply strive for co-existence between your two nations. As such, here are the terms of the deal that I suggest:



The Country of Wraiths returns the lands it has taken this past season to the Pillar of Wisdom in such a manner that is not harmful to the Pillar or the citizens that live there.
The Country of Wraiths does not take territories or increase their magic for the next year. If they are given magic, they are to provide it to us, where we will hold it – unused – until a year has passed, at which point it will be returned.
The Country of Wraiths publicly announces that they attacked the Pillar of Wisdom in retaliation for a magical attack on their citizens, but acknowledging that they are unable to prove the involvement of the Pillar of Wisdom. As such, they will be returning the lands to their rightful owner and ceasing hostilities against the Pillar of Wisdom.
The Pillar of Wisdom will publicly agree to this cessation of hostilities and declare that there is no ill-will resulting from the matter.
The Pillar of Wisdom will allow the Country of Wraiths use of the shores of the territory they returned, and safe passage through their territory to these shores. The Country of Wraiths will not use this access to harm or interfere with the Pillar of Wisdom in any way.
The Country of Wraiths and the Pillar of Wisdom will not knowingly invade, harm, attack, damage, or interfere with the other (“other” here includes territories, ranking members, citizens, resources, plans, and operations). The Pillar of Wisdom and the Country of Wraiths will abandon any pre-existing operations that would do so during this agreement.
Neither the Country of Wraiths nor the Pillar of Wisdom will incite, coerce, or encourage any attacks or interference on the each other through any third parties for the duration of this agreement.
Should either of you be attacked or interfered with – overtly or not – in such a fashion that you suspect the involvement of the other, they shall bring it to us for resolution. We will investigate. If the claim is spurious, we will be recompensed by the claimant for the resources we used to investigate. If the claim is accurate, then we will be recompensed by the party in breach of this agreement, and that party will compensate the claimant for the full and total amount of losses. Refusal to do so in its entirety will result in a state of open war with the Astral Collective until the terms herein are fulfilled.
The terms of this deal will be effective immediately and will persist for a year and a day, with the possibility of renewal at that time if both parties agree to it. (OOC: it will apply for this EOT and end at the beginning of Turn 9 unless both parties agree to renew it)


Please let us know if these terms are acceptable to both of your nations. We hope that this compromise will allow you to co-exist, and to focus your resources on the betterment of Hanrui as a whole.

With the utmost respect,

Speaker Yonren of the Council of Speakers of the Astral Collective





A pity, let us know if you change your minds.

We are willing to offer a 1:1 trade of your ESP for our MAG or MOR, if that is more amenable to you.

[Zweanslord]

Theocracy of Shemesh

Public message to the Church of the Truth Seeker

“The Legion of Darkness has seen Light, their strength burned away by the radiance of Shemesh. Strength and land are not the same thing, as you so keenly point out. In the Light, a path was illuminated, an opportunity against our foe, one you did not seek out.” The pilgrim shakes her head. “I truly hope you will one day see the rays of Light, clearly beaconing, just as loud as the voice speaks. Know that I will listen when you seek me out, and that I am open to speak, explaining for any to understand. But it is clear there is nothing left to speak of now. Enjoy celebrating a non existent peace for this continent as war is present with Light and Darkness in conflict. May radiance be ever on your path, as well as that of the Voice.” The pilgrim then turns around, setting off her journey back to the Theocracy of Shemesh.

Public message to the Astral Collective

A male pilgrim, dressed in what would once be a white robe arrives in the jungles of the Astral Collective. The white is stained from a long journey trying to get through the jungles. Upon arrival, the man first speaks thanks to Shemesh before seeking out a representative to speak to, informing he is a pilgrim from the Theocracy of Shemesh. He still seems rather taken by the sights around him, colourful, wet, green, filled with trees and life. “Greetings, I am Khotahu of the Theocracy of Shemesh. We’ve received your message and I have come extending a warm gratitude on behalf of the Theocracy. The kind sentiment from the Astral Collective is greatly appreciated, may the Light of Shemesh illuminate these lands in great radiance. Know that the lands of the Theocracy of Shemesh continues to be open to the Astral Collective, as they have been these past seasons. Before I discuss trade, I would ask for enlightenment, if you are willing to grant it. What do you see as order and do not recognise in the Theocracy of Shemesh?”

[GameOfChampions]

The Astral Collective



As the mediator in this conversation, I would like to ask that both of you please refrain from insults.

I understand that there is an irreconcilable difference of opinion regarding necromancy. To the Pillar, I understand your discomfort with the Country of Wraiths’ practices – in many ways I do share it. However, they have proven themselves to be amenable to cooperation and compromise, and as such I would categorize them as a much lesser evil than the Fungal Combine.

If the Pillar is not willing to apologize for these alleged actions – and I am not commenting on whether or not they occurred – then it does not seem fair that the Country of Wraiths apologize for their actions. I would instead suggest that they publicly announce a cessation of hostilities, and announce that they are returning the lands they took their rightful owner. Please see the suggested terms below.

Based on the discourse so far, it seems as though cooperation is not an option; I believe we should simply strive for co-existence between your two nations. As such, here are the terms of the deal that I suggest:



The Country of Wraiths returns the lands it has taken this past season to the Pillar of Wisdom in such a manner that is not harmful to the Pillar or the citizens that live there.
The Country of Wraiths does not take territories or increase their magic for the next year. If they are given magic, they are to provide it to us, where we will hold it – unused – until a year has passed, at which point it will be returned.
The Country of Wraiths publicly announces that they attacked the Pillar of Wisdom in retaliation for a magical attack on their citizens, but acknowledging that they are unable to prove the involvement of the Pillar of Wisdom. As such, they will be returning the lands to their rightful owner and ceasing hostilities against the Pillar of Wisdom.
The Pillar of Wisdom will publicly agree to this cessation of hostilities and declare that there is no ill-will resulting from the matter.
The Pillar of Wisdom will allow the Country of Wraiths use of the shores of the territory they returned, and safe passage through their territory to these shores. The Country of Wraiths will not use this access to harm or interfere with the Pillar of Wisdom in any way.
The Country of Wraiths and the Pillar of Wisdom will not knowingly invade, harm, attack, damage, or interfere with the other (“other” here includes territories, ranking members, citizens, resources, plans, and operations). The Pillar of Wisdom and the Country of Wraiths will abandon any pre-existing operations that would do so during this agreement.
Neither the Country of Wraiths nor the Pillar of Wisdom will incite, coerce, or encourage any attacks or interference on the each other through any third parties for the duration of this agreement.
Should either of you be attacked or interfered with – overtly or not – in such a fashion that you suspect the involvement of the other, they shall bring it to us for resolution. We will investigate. If the claim is spurious, we will be recompensed by the claimant for the resources we used to investigate. If the claim is accurate, then we will be recompensed by the party in breach of this agreement, and that party will compensate the claimant for the full and total amount of losses. Refusal to do so in its entirety will result in a state of open war with the Astral Collective until the terms herein are fulfilled.
The terms of this deal will be effective immediately and will persist for a year and a day, with the possibility of renewal at that time if both parties agree to it. (OOC: it will apply for this EOT and end at the beginning of Turn 9 unless both parties agree to renew it)


Please let us know if these terms are acceptable to both of your nations. We hope that this compromise will allow you to co-exist, and to focus your resources on the betterment of Hanrui as a whole.

With the utmost respect,

Speaker Yonren of the Council of Speakers of the Astral Collective

This is how good dies. In the face of those who trust smooth words and false promises over righteous good and safeguarding of the natural order.

We accept.


The Pillar will not take action against the Wraiths for a year and a day. Let all witness our word.

Your actions speak of peace but we know evil swims deeper then that. Prove yourself before seeking peace from the forces of good.

OOC: You have Rep 2. Going to take more then that.

We make no truce with you flesh warpers and cultists of the old and deep. Your men say goodness and flocked to it. Would that the rest do the same.