[Event] An errant arrow has led to the discovery of pirate settlement's along the Kline River in the Greshnere Wood. They are roughly of equal number to the Greshnere elves. Eradicating the pirates would secure the land, but would also be the first real combat elven warriors have seen in many decades, and thus would carry some risk.
Tamric, our people are too tired of bloodshed. And many other people too are weary of death and seek to forget its presence. Remind them of this, and they way be swayed into prudent action. Go Now with my blessing.
En, I will thank you for your dedication to the cause despite what stands in our way. Continue to guide your kin of every sort and we will begin our return to that sublime connection.
In the beginning, when the creator made the world and all its inhabitants from his own body, his creation drew to him others from the nameless place. And these great spirits did see the creator's work and were inspired and filled with great feeling and wonder. And they begged the creator that they might join in, and it was allowed. So together the creator and the spirits fashioned everything and raised the boundaries of the world and put everything in its proper place. And they measured and grew and shaped until there was harmony and discord in equal measure; a perfect cycle that would grow in ways the nameless place could not. And so the creator and spirits gazed over their finished works, and all were pleased. But the creator saw that though beautiful and worthy, it was not wholly theirs. And the creator departed their work, to go and make something that was.
To the spirits, he left their shared creation, and all the new life that now dwelled upon in. And it was to the spirits that the fate of the world and all who grew from it was entrusted. It would be they that would decide its fate. And among these great beings was one known as Eoin. And the spirit looked over the newly created races, those of life, and the earth, and the mortals who were favored but short-lived, and felt within their heart a great love for these peoples.
And so Eoin gathered many of the tribes and bid them follow the spirit to a land it had made for them. And Eoin loved them and promised them proof of that love in the form of many gifts and teachings. And Eoin asked the children of creation that for the spirit's love, they show it love three times in return. Three occasions when Eoin would ask them to give from their hearts as the spirit had given to them.
And the children of creation agreed.
Eoin led them to a land, though not all made it. Some tribes broke away and wandered to the east, others west, some north, some south. But many followed Eoin to the paradise the spirit had fashioned. And when they reached its boundaries it was named Aeya, and they settled wherever they wished, for there was room and bounty for all.
And true to Eoin's word the spirit did show them love. To the children of life Eoin showed the cultivation of all things, whether flower, song, or beauty. And to the children of the earth Eoin taught the workings of the bones of creation and the beauty of its blood. And to the mortals, Eoin gave many things as well, from knowledge of the secret arts to the laws of their creator.
Thus was the land of Aeya blessed by the love of a spirit for its children. The children of life grew great forests and works of wonder, and the children of the earth dug deep and fashioned much. And the mortals delved ever deeper into the knowledge and path of their creator and creation. Even the monster tribes, shunned for their mixed blood, were invited into Aeya and given small places to call home.
And Eoin looked over all that was prospering in the land of Aeya and asked for its first gift of love. Eoin asked that the children of creation enjoy all that they had received, and pause in their labors to gain more. But the children of life wished to grow ever-more forests and wonders, and the children of the earth desired ever-deeper tunnels and the fruits of their craft. And the mortals continued to study the higher arts and uncover more and more the workings of creation.
And thus was Eion's request ignored, and no gift of love given to the spirit the first time they asked. Save the monster tribes, who stayed within their bounds and dark places as they had been asked.
But Eion was gracious and forgiving, and nothing could temper their love, so the spirit said nothing, and Aeya continued to grow and prosper. And it came in time that the kingdoms that sprang forth from paradise looked beyond their borders, for their needs and desires were many, and they began to take from the surroundings lands goods and people and whatever else was needed. And the great spirits, the kin of Eion, saw the plunder of the lands outside Aeya and thought it wicked. But the angriest was the sea mother, whose children those of Aeya had taken and bound in chains like beasts.
So Eion asked for the second gift of love from the mortals. The spirit asked that they be satisfied with their borders and the gifts they had received, and to not to takes the children of other lands and bind them in iron and drive them with whips. The kingdoms of Aeya promised Eion they would do so, but continued in their ways instead.
And thus was Eion's second request ignored, and no gift of love was given to the spirit.
In time it came that so great and mighty were the kingdoms of Aeya that their reach spread across the nine-lands, and anything of value was taken and brought back within their borders. This included the ocean, and the sea mother grew enraged. She declared that she would lay low the lands of Aeya, a life for every one taken from her waters. But Eion intervened, asking that the sea mother spare its children, and instead take the spirit itself as payment. And the sea mother agreed.
So Eion asked their last gift from the kingdoms of Aeya. It asked that after the spirit's death they remember its first two requests, and honor them. And then the sea mother killed Eion, satisfying her anger. But the kingdoms of Aeya mourned and raged against the sea mother for slaying Eion, and they declared war on her and all her children.
And thus was Eion's third and final request ignored, and no gift of love was ever given to the spirit.
Veranca the scholar walked with a confused expression through the halls of Lady Fay. He was accompanied by Bellonie, the iron maiden servant of the Sorceress. Neither spoke, the echoes of the houseservants activities echoing around them.
"I..." the scholar said. "I don't understand..."
"Hm?" Bellonie said, continuing to float down the hall next to him.
"Your master...Lady Fay...I...she is not like I expected. The necromancers of the Lehvant were supposed to be...terrible monsters..."
Bellonie chuckled. It was a metallic, hollow sound. "Like your Hassid, yes?"
"Rumors started by our enemies..." Veranca muttered with a scowl.
"No...no I don't think they are rumors scholar. But no matter. You are indeed correct that Lady Fay is not like the necromancers of the past. If you are searching for those, there is one in the western marshes who will be to your liking. But Lady Fay is the last true heir of the Welh, so she is a truer daughter of the late kingdom than any other may claim. More than that, she is everything they did not want her to be. Kind, noble, just."
"Ambitious," the scholar added.
Bellonie's iron face smiled. "Yes...that the Welh masters did want, and she has it. But she walks a path they never dreamed of."
"And you? Why does one such as you follow? Begging the pardon of the question of course..."
Isov's Action
The pair were interrupted as Isov entered the hall in the company of several undead maidens. Bellonie floated to a stop, nodding her iron head in greeting. "Isov."
"Bellonie," the wanderer said, brushing off the mud flecks on his stylish coat.
"How goes the fields?"
Isov passed a parchment he held to one of his maidens. "Well, I'm digging irrigation canals as we speak, so a few weeks and it will done. And you? How goes it with the scholars and the school?"
"I was just answering for our guest why I serve such a sorceress as Lady Fay. I think he mistakes me for some vengeful spirit."
"Bellonie is a vengeful spirit," Isov said to the scholar. "More so than you could possibly understand. But to answer your question, we serve Lady Fay because she is the true heir of the Wehl, and she has called us to serve."
"So...good or evil," the scholar said. "You would serve her?"
Bellonie and Isov shared a look. "Perhaps," the iron maiden said. "But as she is now, we will gladly give her our lives and everything in our power for her to succeed."
"She is more than our master," Isov said, nodding. "And we wish for the same thing as she."
"So," Bellonie said, nudging the scholar. "Why don't you get to work already..."
"Right!" Verenca said. "I'll start right away...."
Tamric kneeled on a branch high in a tree. The wind swept by him, waving the winter elf's long, silvery hair. He brushed it aside, his gaze fixed on the clearing below. The mighty Kline River swept past with fast but calm waters. Along its banks were wooden huts, docks, and towers. Men with spears and bows loaded river ships, while the echoes of hammer and nail announced more ships were being built under great wooden awnings. Tamic tilted his head slightly, singling out a man in a tower near his tree. 100 yards, by the elf's estimate. And he was never wrong.
Tamric raised his bow and fitting an arrow to the string. His expression was calm, almost bored, and his eyes seemed distant. His thoughts were here and there, never quite settling on anything. The elf felt the world around him, sensed the breathing of the trees, heard the shouts of the river pirates, smelled life and death and everything between. Tamric was nothing, and outside him was everything. He drew back the string and released it with a smooth motion, almost like an afterthought. The arrow sank into the man in the tower. He was dead before he fell from it. Shouts rose up. Men with weapons began running.
Tamric opened his mouth slightly, tasting the air. There would be rain soon. He notched another arrow and drew back the string, his eyes idly studying the pirate settlement. His bow tilted ever-so-slightly and he released. A second arrow sailed down and knocked a pirate off his feet. The man hit the ground, his companions shouting and gesturing.
The elf's mouth twitched. He wanted to scratch it, but also couldn't be bothered. Not now. Instead he put another arrow to his string and drew it back. He waved the point back and forth, back and forth, choosing his target. The pirates shouted, some releasing arrows wildly into the trees. None came close to Tamric. He paused his bow and released the string. A third pirate staggered, then fell. The elf's arrow pierced his neck.
En's Action
A fairy zoomed through the canopy of the Greshnere wood, headed for the sound of water. She heard shouting, then smelled blood. The fairy frowned, diving down among the trees. She found the winter elf easily enough. Tamric was perched in a tree with a bow. The fairy dove for his head and stopped short before his nose.
"Prince Tamricccccc! I found you!"
Tamric narrowed his eyes, his voice monotone. "Go away. I'm busy."
The fairy hovered in front of his face, her hands on her hips. "I've got a message from En!"
Tamric didn't respond. Instead he aimed his bow and glanced past the fairy. He released an arrow, hitting a pirate who was climbing a ladder to a tower. The fairy rolled her eyes as the man's startled scream echoed, followed by the sound of him hitting the ground.
"Well whatever, I'll just tell you! She wants to know if everything's okay, and if you're taking care of yourself, and if you've remembered to-"
"She's nosy," Tamric said, putting another arrow to his string. "She's my teacher, not my mother."
The fairy held a finger in the air. "She thought you might say that, and so she told me to tell you that it's your fault she has to act like both, since you refuse to-"
Tamric waved the fairy away, then drew back his string and released. Another pirate choked and hit the ground. More arrows were sailing into the trees now, and the women and children of the settlement had gotten in boats and were taking off. Tamric ignored the ones without weapons. He didn't care what they did. He was only vaguely interested in the pirates. They weren't proving to be much of a challenge.
"Hmph!" the fairy said, flying back down and landing on his shoulder. "What are you even doing right now?"
Tamric released an arrow. "Killing pirates."
"Huh. Why are they bringing torches?"
Tamric frowned. "What?"
The fairy pointed at several men running towards the base of the trees. "Torches."
The elf's expression changed for the first time. It was mild surprise. "Oh."
He stood and ran along the branch, then hopped to the next tree. The fairy buzzed around the air after him. "Hey wait up!"
[Event] Having been ambushed by a one-elf army, the river pirate families took to the waters and fled, while the pirates briefly explored the forest. They didn't get too far, and quickly returned to the safety of the river. En is worried they will be back with more warriors, though it's doubtful they'll leave their settlement and go too far into Greshnere wood.
The giant snake Ozymanna lay curled up in his favorite spot. It was an alcove built into the rocky base of the Wild King Fengar's Bone Hall. Beast maidens brought heated stones and placed them in grated pits underneath, while others fed him butchered cattle from the monster tribe grazing fields. A third group held a giant saucer aloft, containing a mead the serpent was rather fond of. He sighed, startling the beast maidens around him. Ozymanna's tongue flicked in and out of his mouth.
"I speak truly when I say being born big was the best decision I ever made. For the Wild King likes his servants to be as powerful as he, and I get all the heat and food and drink for it."
One of the bolder maids, a sheep beast Ozymanna liked despite her boldness, or maybe because of it, shook a rag at him. "You best watch how you speak. One would think you're being haughty haughty to the king!"
Ozymanna rolled his eyes. "Oh I didn't mean it like that and you know it Felsi. Can't a serpent indulge a bit? Speak a few self satisfied words?"
The beast maidens obeyed, lifting the giant saucer and bringing it towards the serpents mouth. Felsi watched with her arms crossed.
Kee'Ah's Action
A door slamming made Ozymanna pause. He and the beast maidens turned. Kee'Ah Old Feather had just entered the hall. Her bone skull was broken, as was one of her wings. She had other wounds on her body as well. All the beast servants and officials in the hall watched as she came to a stop. The harpy glanced around, then spotted the giant saucer full of mead. She stalked over to her, dripping blood along the mosaic floor.
"What in Yefletchlin's name happened to you?" Ozymanna said, frowning.
"Minotaurs," she grumbled, reaching the saucer. She used her good wing to beat away the beast maidens around it. They cried out and shielded themselves. Kee'Ah tipped forward into the saucer, landing in the mead. The harpy began drinking.
"It seems they got the best of you."
"I killed one," Kee'Ah. "Maybe two. Got some shit on my nails so maybe their wounds will fester."
Ozymanna frowned, leaning out from the alcove and hovering over the saucer. "Well don't get any in the mead you empty-headed hedge-bird. And weren't you supposed to endure the minotaurs to our king, not kill them?"
"They started it," Kee'Ah said between drinks. "I'll get em' next time."
"Hm," Ozymanna said, narrowing his eyes. "You better. Fengar won't be happy to hear you failed..."
Utensils clinked. A massive hearth roared. Shadows danced along stone walls.
The great hall of the necromancer's tower was warm and smelled of dampness and death. A long table occupied the middle, with many seats around it. A handful of men and women in muted finery sat eating. Johade and Johade's daughter sat at the end across from each other. In a large chair, turned away from the table and facing the fire, was the Enchanter of the Marsh. The necromancer said nothing, his figure hidden behind the high back of his chair. The table behind him echoed with the sound of eating and murmured conversation.
All of them flinched as Johade slammed a fist on the table. "Well daughter? Let us hear it! How did your labors go today!"
Johade's Daughter's Action
The men and women at the table exchanged looks. They were the important people of Mosshelm, the families who supplied laborers, materials, and other such things. Though the necromancer did not eat, he hosted many feasts regardless. Few ever saw him, and fewer still heard him speak. The necromancer mostly listened. As if waiting for something.
As for Johade and his daughter, the people at the table had gotten over their presence by their third feast with them. The ghostly pair didn't eat either, but they always attended. That wasn't to say the dullahan and banshee weren't unnerving.
They very much were.
"Well?" Johade said, gesturing. "How was it my cherished daughter? Did you succeed?"
The banshee nodded meekly. Her gaze was fixed on the table, as if there was something she could not take her eyes off for fear of her slipping away.
"Excellent," Johade said, settling back in his chair. "That is to be expected, after all. You are my kin."
The necromancer held out a hand and made a slight gesture. A woman veiled in all black and standing next to him nodded, then turned to the table. "The master wishes to know how your labors went Johade."
The dullahan beat his chest, eliciting a hollow, metallic sound. "I have succeeded! The marshes are turning as we speak!"
Seemingly satisfied, the necromancer returned his hand to his armrest and continued to face the hearth. The people at the table exchanged glances. One of the younger men, a merchant, cleared his throat. "Ah, Sir Johade."
The dullahan shifted in his seat. "Hm?" he said, in a tone that implied he hadn't realized others were present. "Oh, yes, what is it. Speak up."
"Well," the merchant said, glancing at the others. "We were wondering if we might know your daughter's name...she has been coming to us for supplies for the pit digging, and I do not know what to call her."
Johade didn't move or respond for a moment. Finally a chuckle echoed out of his armor. "What a ridiculous question." he gestured at the banshee. "Tell him your name my most cherished daughter!"
The banshee continued to stare at the table. "I am the daughter."
"And there you have it!" Johade said.
"Ah," the merchant said. "Very well then...I suppose it's like, a title?"
"I don't know what you mean," Johade said. He pointed a gauntlet finger at the merchant. "But you best keep respecting her regardless. As well as myself, and most importantly, the master."
The merchant swallowed, then nodded. "Of course..."
Henny dug in a pit, her long claws dislodging dirt clods and sending them out the hole behind her. She was fairly deep into the earth, having been digging for a while. A pile of rabbits lay next to her in the hole, snacks for when she took breaks. The little sunlight that streamed into the pit was blocked as Runtun peered inside.
Runtun's Action
"Henny," he said, his low voice rumbling out. "What are you doing."
"Pretty pretty Henny digs!" the hag said. She paused and glanced over her shoulder. "Come down and join pretty pretty Henny! Go faster!"
"Hmm, no, I have other business to attend to. I'm going on a journey for a couple weeks. Which is why I'm checking on your progress. I need you to finish this."
Henny picked up a rock and inspected it between her fingers. "Hmm, Pretty pretty Henny hasn't found what she seeks yet. But it will be done. Pretty pretty Henny good at digging."
"Yes," Runtun said, slowly. The giant itched the back of his neck with his fingers, then straightened up from peering in the hole. Runtun glanced around. The goblin king's hall rose up behind them, and all around were the structures of the village. A giant X had been painted on the ground a few yards away. "Henny...."
"Hm," Henny said, digging into the earth with her claws. A steady stream of dirt spewed out behind her.
"There's an X on the ground here."
The hag didn't stop digging. "Then pick it up if you want it, what does that have to do with pretty pretty Henny."
"Do you know what X's signify?"
"Don't care."
Runtun massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to be patient. "It's where they wanted you to dig Henny..."
The hag paused, then straightened up with a scowl. "Eh? Pretty pretty Henny thought she could dig where she wanted!"
"No...you were supposed to dig here."
Scratching sounds echoed from the pit, then the hag crawled out. She brushed herself up and glanced around the clearing in the village. The big X waited nearby. Henny spat, then gestured in irritation. "No one told pretty pretty Henny this!"
"Right," Runtun said, turning away. "Well, hurry with the new hole, we'll need it."
"Bah!" Henny said, stalking over to the X. She kicked aside the rocks that formed. "Bah bah bah! Making pretty pretty Henny do more work!"
"Good look Henny," Runtun said as he walked for the path leading out of the village. "I'll bring you back a present."
Henny ignored the giant, simply bending down and preparing to dig.
"No," Saya said. The sphinx lay across a cushioned bench. A beast servant held a goblet near her mouth. Feasting and conversation echoed around the bone hall. In front of her stood Reega the Eager. The muscled ogre gripped his head in frustration.
"Why not! It's only fair!"
Saya nodded at the beast servant, who tipped the cup to her mouth. The sphinx finished drinking, then wiped it with a wing. "Because, I already told you I don't want to compete with you. It's tedious and pointless."
Reega stomped. "It is not pointless! It's fun! Why can't you see that! Winner gets favor, loser gets ripped to pieces!"
Saya arched an eyebrow. "And what if you're the loser?"
Reega laughed, the cruel sound echoing around the hall. "Impossible! My warband is the most fearsome in the land! The prince will delight in our conquests!"
"Hm yes, well I think the prince will delight in everything I'm about to bring him."
Reega lifted his helm, peering at her with wild eyes. "You keep speaking like that, hinting and hinting. Spit it out cat bird, what are you doing out in the wilds!"
"Hmm, I believe that my business for now."
"You are the most offensive thing in my eyes, sly, but not enough to have fun with it!" Reega turned away. "Fine, I'll test my mettle elsewhere, and hope you get killed in a gruesome and humorous manner."
"Shh, the dancers are about to begin."
"Eh?" Reega said, spinning back. Several beast women were gathering in the center of the hall, draped in silk and precious stones. Reega grabbed a chair out from underneath a large satyr and walked it over to Saya.
"No go sit somewhere else," Saya said.
"Too late," Reega said, setting it down and getting comfortable. "Let's compete over who getes them afterwards."
Saya put a wing to her face, stifling a groan. "Reega we are in dire need of finding something to occupy your talents with."
The ogre smiled, gazing out at the dancers. "Oh don't you worry about that cat bird. I already told you me and my warband have been busy..."
[Event] An envoy from a neighboring goblin kingdom has arrived to see the Ogre Prince. During the meeting, he asked for a trade deal to be established, in which the Ogre Prince would give them stone, and the goblin king would give them gold in return. The evnoy is waiting in the guest quarters for the Ogre Prince to come to a decision.
"Pluck my beard and tar me with feathers," the dwarf said. He stared at Snullywatch. "I don't think I've ever seen one of your kind. You a goblin?"
"Gnome is what we've been called," Snullywatch said. "Though all our kind have too many names to keep track of."
The dwarf chuckled. "Aye, aye. Don't they have just a barrel of em' for us. Well no matter, I'm here as summoned." he glanced around the dwarf lord's hall. "Tis a nice place. Old, breathes well. But not dwarven."
"No," Snullywatch said. He gestured for the dwarf to follow him. "Not dwarven entirely, though Lord Steelshout has repaired much of it. Mortal men built this long ago."
"I see," the dwarf said, following Snullywatch through the great entrance doors. The sun shone down as they stepped out into the settlement of Stelius. Many dwarves and goblins walked about, and even a few giants. The voices of the merchants echoed from their stalls, and pack animals grunted and snorted.
"We need you to start something for us," Snullywatch said, walking with the dwarf. "A project. Lord Steelshout would see you himself, but he's otherwise engaged."
"I'm all ears, though given my trade I can take a guess at one you want."
"Yes," Snullywatch began, then paused. A scowl overtook his face as a shadow fell over the settlement. "Hold on,"
Gus's Action
Gus ambled along the road, stopping by the edge of Stelius. He gazed down at the inhabitants. Several waved back up at him with smiles and greetings. The giant oxen smiled back at them, then glanced down to see Snullywatch standing directly beneath.
"Gus." the gnome said, his arms crossed. "What's this I hear about you terrorizing the nearby human village?"
The giant ox frowned. "Hmm, eh?"
"Don't eh me you cheeky cow! Speak words I know you can!"
Gus simply smiled. "hm."
"Well just so you know, a rider came in from that village not twenty minutes ago, swearing fealty to Lord Steelshout! You scared him half to death!"
"Ah," Gus said, feeling geniune embaressement. He hung his head. "hm..."
Snullywatch rolled his eyes, then patted the giant ox's leg. "Oh no matter, it works out all the same. May try crouching the next time you approach. Others aren't used to you like we are."
Gus shook his head. "Hm."
"Right, come along. I'm going to need your strength in a moment here. We've got a mighty important project ahead of us."
@The Villain (8) The Horned King of the Southern Crag
Heccafet's (& Druug's) Action
"What is he saying," Heccafet said, gazing down at the tazann chieftain. Her voice was quiet as always, but still audible. Druug stood next to her. His large eye gazed intently at the beaked monster.
"I don't know," the cylcops said. He gestured fruitlessly. "His speech, it's...different."
"Yes he's from the western side of the mountain," Heccafet said. "But it should still be their tongue. And I don't speak the language of the tazann, only you do."
Druug sniffed, then itched at his muscled arm. "You speak with King Haraltain well enough."
"His noble line speaks a different language than the other cheiftains. King-tongue he calls it. I learned it because I had to. You know this, you learned it to."
Druug let out a low grumble. "I learn all of them. It's easy."
"Then why can't you tell me what he's saying?" Heccafet said. She glanced around the hall. Other monsters surrounded them, but gave the two favored servants space. There was much work to do, and everyone had parchemnt with various decrees on it. They all waited their turn to speak with the giant spider and cylcops.
"Give me time," Druug said. He nodded at the tazann chieftain. "Speak, again. More slowly this time."
The beaked monster talked and gestured. The crowd of monsters around the cavern waited. Finally the cylcops held up a hand. "I understand, thank you." he turned to the gaint spider.
"Have you been stealing children again."
Heccafet's face remained blank. "...no."
Druug glared at her with his one eye. "I'll break one of your legs off and use it to pick my teeth if you're lying to me."
Heccafet gave him a polite smile. "I swore off taking care of little ones, no matter how much they need me..."
"Woman."
The giant spider rolled her eyes. "Fine, so I came across several-"
Druug stopped her with a gesture. "Enough, I don't want to hear it. You spider kin confuse me. You don't eat what you catch, only rear them. Enough, leave that to the mothers they were born to."
"I will not!" Heccafet said, stomping a foot. "Why should they have children when I am denied it by the gods!" her voice, louder than any had ever heard it, echoed around the cavern. "What have I done to deserve such a thing! Tell me!"
All eyes stared at her. Druug stretched, unfazed. "I don't know, I don't care. I want to eat everything in this cavern," he leaned in towards Heccafet, lowering his voice. "But I don't. Because King Haraltain has bid me not to. Why would you get to break laws when I, Druug, do not?" Heccefat wore a look of bitter hatred. She turned her large body away from the cyclops and the chieftain. Druug rolled his eyes. "Be mad at me as you want woman, just return the children. This chieftan is willing to supply warriors in exchange. I would not test him on this curteousy, and this works out well for me. And you. You had other orders besides nabbing the spawn of other tribes. Get back out there and meet with the other cheiftains."
"I am aware," Heccafet said, her voice low. "I will go after my baggage carriers have rested, we just got back."
"And...?"
"I will return the children..."
"Good," Druug said. He spoke quickly to the cheiftian, then gently pushed the tazann away with a massive hand. "NEXT! Come forth and give your petition!"
I stand before the great many thousand sabers. The many thousand arrows. The many thousand thundering hooves. Let the many thousand bend their knee to the one, and forever be known their Overlord. - Dazen Karad, Conquering Chieftain, uniter of clans, first Overlord of Khavalia.
"A fine gift," Princess Kayala said, receiving the tribute from the well-dressed man. "It shall greet the Overlord's treasury most beautifully. Enjoy your use of the exchange, burghermeister!"
The important official bowed, his elaborate fur coat splaying out around him. He then turned and rejoined the gathering of merchants waiting before the royal booth. The river town of Aghalask rose up around them. A embroidered canopy gave shade to the princess, advisors, and scribes around her. The next merchant came up with his tribute in hand. Prince Kayala gave him a perfect smile; welcoming yet regal. She was about to speak, then noticed a band of warriors walking purpousfuly across the gathering ground of the settlement. Among them was Segrid Falkun, commander of the sellswords. Princess Kayala excused herself, handing off her duties to one of her father's men, then lifted the hem of her elaborate dress and hastened across the town center. She met up with Segrid and fell into step beside him.
"Princess," he said, giving her a polite nod, but continuing to walk.
"Captain," she said, returning the nod. "I had thought it nice when we chanced upon each other in the same town, but it appears you are leaving already."
"I am," Segrid said, a small hint of a smile on his face. The princes was always eager for information and news. "We were only ever resupplying here. A day at most."
"I heard father speaking of sending emissaries south,"
Segrid shook his head, bemused. "Then you already know where I go, don't you."
"Perhaps. But I'd like to hear you confirm it. I must work to get any truth from the men of the court."
At this Segrid let out a laugh. They were nearing the docks now, and several ships waited with men standing around them. "No princess, I think actually I'm the only one you have trouble getting a straight answer from. And I should like to keep it that way, as everyone else bends to your will in the time it takes for the words to come out of your mouth."
The princess gave a mock frown of disproval. "I should think that slander captain, and I would watch how you speak of a princess."
"Hm," Segrid said, looking past her at the royal booth. Merchants and officials were still lined up, giving tribute, recieving seals of approval in exchange. "You seem to be adapting well to life here."
Kayala's teasing and quarelling mood left her. Segrid was the only one she didn't have to act a perfect around. She could also speak her mind with the captain. She had few others except her sworn maidens and her cousin she could do that with. "Yes," she said, a hint of weariness in her voice. "It is coming along nicely I suppose. But...I miss the old country Sigrid..."
The captain nodded, not responding. A few minutes of silence passed as the sound of the dockworkers and the merchants intermingled. "Ulfyre is a good land," Segrid said, finally breaking the silence. "The king was right to come here. Ulfyre is rich, with small kingdoms and few warriors to defend them. Here we could do something. Build an empire that expands back across the north and west as our anscestors did."
"You sound like my father," Kayala said. It was not an accusation, but neither was it a compliment. She gazed out across the town, watching the people move about.
Segrid took a deep breath, then exhaled. "Well, I can say no more than that then. I must be off." He bowed towards her, then started off for the docks. His warriors followed at a respectable distance.
"You are charged with bringing me back purple thread for my loom captain," The princess called after him.
"What?" he called over his shoulder. "There is no purple dye in these lands!"
"Nonetheless captain, I won't accept failure."
Segrid waved over his shoulder, then he and his men began to board the boats.
Tamric, let them bleed further for their tresspass. En, turn shed blood to better purpose, bringing new kindness and repaying old debts to these creatures.
The Khavalian Exchange has been founded officially within the territory of the Khavalian Empire, as well as surrounding unincorporated territories in various towns and their markets.
Any traders can register with the Exchange, of which a survey of their wealth and deposit will be required, but once done any merchants and individuals both high and low born can use the Exchange as both a safe place to stockpile their wealth and coinage, as well as where if one travels to any other exchange, their record will be on file and one can take a withdrawal of wealth that they are recorded of having within their account. A new and exciting economic innovation, the Exchange can allow anyone wishing to access their wealth be able to do so regardless of distance through a system of both stockpiled wealth and well recorded Exchange Transfer notes and Checks system.
Protect your trade from the likes of highway robbery! Use the exchange to safeguard your wealth and in addition, allow you to traverse distance without needing to necessarily carry it on your person!
In addition, the Exchange offers out reasonable loans that have interest weighed upon how much money is taken out on the loan. That said- pay back your dues in the time allotted, lest you face the wrath of the Overlord!
Any withdraws have a basic skim fee of 2%, to pay for the valuable service this provides to users of the Exchange. A more than fair price considering the alternatives of lugging your gold and silver about you, just waiting to be stolen by brigands and barbarians!
Consider incorporating the Khavalian Exchange into your cities and townships! Consider the hassle and wealth saved through its use. There is much wise commercial gain to be had with the Khavalian Exchange!
8d6 Roll (M:3, CO:6, DI:5, DE:3, S:2, R:5, CH:1, CL:5)
Greshnere Elves 4 Category Margin Victory
And was often written in those years of isolated holds and roads fallen to ruin, there was little fighting, but that battles that occurred were fierce and merciless. Among these was a conflict along the River Kline, a river fat was trade and fatter-still with piracy, that occurred along the stretch of river that passes through the Greshnere wood, home to faerys and aelfs ruled by the line of Yewhold. A century past they had fought tooth and claw against rivals clans and hobs and mortals, but in the later 2nd century they were rarely seen outside their boundaries.
The river pirates however had little fear of the aelfs or the hill hobs or the second-lived, as their boats were fast, their axes sharp, their arrows fully fletched. They had come to be this way over decades of successful raids and plundering. So it came as a surprise to these prideful reavers when the aelfs began to harry them and burn their settlements along the Greshnere-Kline. The back and forth of skirmishes, pursuits, and plundering finally came to a head in the month of Oosen 195 A.E. when Prince Tamric of Yewhold and a hundred of his spear-aelfs led Yoric Stoatbeard and his warriors into a carefully laid trap deep within Greshnere. Cut off from both his river and his boats, Yoric Stoatbeard and his men were cut down to a man, and the pirates of the Kline lost their foothold along the Greshnere banks.
How crass the name, Finnrear's Crevice, yet how serious the battle it entailed. Wild King Fengar, Lord of the Hunt, He Who Stands Above Others On the Great Hill, lording over the Haden Wood in his bonehall atop the quylenn hills, and Chief Finnrear of the Calayha Minotaurs, proud, strong, ruler of the craggy ravines of Dunwaaf. It was Finnrear- so proud of his strength!- who received the harpy emissary of King Fengar. And he did beat her, and throw her from his domain, that she should never return unless on bent knee and head bowed. And thus was the wrath of King Fengar roused. And woe to the one who angers a king.
The Wild King bid the giant serpent Ozymanna, descendant of the first monster, the moon-eater, to lead his centaur raiders on the warpath. And Ozymanna obliged his king. Finnrear was not surprised at their approach, nay! He knew they were coming! For neither King Fengar nor Ozymanna made any secret of it. They wanted Finnrear to know they were coming. They wanted those watching to understand what was happening. The price of angering a king.
And when the battle occurred it was raining, sending great waters into the craggy ravines of Dunnwaaf. The minotaurs and their chief fought bravely, knee deep in water, against the onslaught of the centaurs. And Ozymanna, the great serpent. Slithering through the ravine, dropping down from great overhangs into the water. That snake ate many bullmen, whole they say, and caused terror among their number.
And when it was done and the rain and stopped and the waters fled the ravines, Finnrear was no more. Brought low by a dozen centaur spears, dead among his kin, split open under the sun. And Ozymanna bid the centaurs cut the head of every dead minotaur and mount them on stakes throughout Dunnwaaf, and then the sows and heifers and child-beasts of the minotaurs were taken and put under the rule of Tofen Surehoof of the centaurs, with Fengar as overking.
Strange Tidings in the West
As I write to you Evali, I must confess to some trepidation at what I have seen. I was south of the lake Woslayh between the Aubren wood and the Valley Yulda, as always carting my wares between the goblins and the ogres and the dead along the kline (though I had not been that far yet) when I came upon the settlement of Pilfin. In years past a dozen houses, a stable, and the fields. But now Evali, now! Never before have I seen so many goblin gathered in one place! And with them ogres and harpies and other such creatures! All gathered together with tools for digging and hauling. And what did I find but a road house and the finest ale I had tasted in years! So overwhelmed was I with the hubbub and activity that I must admit to losing myself in the drink (the goblins Evali, you should have seen them all! Laughing and dancing in the ways only they can) and I took out my lyre and strummed and I plucked and they did enjoy it. All of them the goblins and the ogres. And then what do I see by a harpy with a golden chain of office bidding me come see her master and play for her!
Oh Evali was I scared! I knew I should have kept the dammed lyre away, and my cup empty of that ale! But it was too late and I was swept away to a private room where to my astonishment I witnessed a sphinx and a giant! Together! I shall try and recreate what I remember. They were arguing over something. No, not arguing, gently debating-
-Runtun chuckled as he leaned back against the series of cushions many had worked to build up for him. The giant picked at his teeth with a small goblin spear, then glanced down at the sphinx. "You're lying."
"Lying am I?" Saya said with a coy smile. "Then tell me, how many fentlings do you think I shook out of the bush after following the rainbow dew."
Runtun laughed uproariously, smacking his knee. "By the sleeping stone god woman, you can tell a good yarn! Fine!" he leaned forward and put his hands on his knees. "Then it is my turn." he nodded at the trembling gnome with the lyre by the doorway. "You! Play something..." the giant snapped. "bawdy." The gnome nodded nervously, then began to strum. He broke a string, but everyone in the room ignored it. "Now," Runtun said, fixing an arched eyebrow on Saya. "Have ye ever heard the one about the brownie and the goblin? A brownie comes out to find his favorite chicken nowhere in his coop, and he wanted an egg for breakfast! So he looks for the hen and finds her in his neighbors yard, a goblin! And the goblin already has the hen and his taking her back to his home, with a laid egg mind you! And the brownie says 'give back my hen and the egg with it!' and the goblin sets down the hen but keeps the egg, going 'it was laid on my hill, it's mine!' and the brownie goes 'let us settle this the way the old kin did, in the ancient times' and goblins, who are proud and love all things ancient, agreed. So the brownie explained, 'I kick you in the balls and count to ten! Then you do the same to me! Whoever manages to stand wins!' and the goblin nodded and spread his legs. So the brownie goes back home and gets his best boots, the ones with a little iron in the tip, and comes back and kicks the goblin hard as he can in the balls! And counts to ten! And the goblin stays up despite the pain! And when the brownie reaches ten the goblin goes 'there, now it's my turn,' and the brownie picks up the hen and runs away screaming 'keep your fucking egg!'
The room erupted into laughter, even Saya wore a wide grin. She conceded the good joke with a bow of her head. "Well done my giant friend, perhaps this project of ours will finish quicker if all giants and goblins had as good as humor as you."
"Aye," Runtun said. "And if ogres were as half as beautiful as you, I'd marry ten of them!"
- I tell you Evali I was scared! But the giant and the sphinx seemed to be good friends, or at the very least enjoyed each other's stories, and the goblins Evali! So many! I wonder each and every night what they were up to in Pilfin...
Next Turn Time Skip Gamble
1 turn. 8 possible actions. Representing a 5 year period leading into the 3rd century.
For the next turn, you will come up 4 actions for each of your servants. They can be separate, or they can depend on each other , whichever you wish. But there is a trick to the order you want to perform them in. Each time you roll, if you're successful, then it's on to the next roll and the next action attached to it. But if you fail, the next roll is counted towards the same action. Fail once, and your servant potentially only achieves 3 actions. Fail twice, 2 actions. But for every fail there's a higher chance your character will empty their [3] counter and level up.
How ambitious are you? What could you do with 8 actions and 5 years? The kingdoms are established and the tutorial is over. Now is the time to start the real game...
Tamric my son and En my ancient freind, wisdom arrow and will have completed the mission of those who came before. We have nearly claimed this wood as ours once more. Final steps must be taken though, to take the first steps in rebuilding and safeguarding a true paradise. Thus I entrust these tasks to you.
(Tamric first 4 then En)
A great scourge of the heavens above, the sky ever encompassing- rained from down above. Like drops of rain, came shafts of arrows. Like thunder incessant thunder, did we hear thousands of hooves. Our eyes were singed by the fire, and we knew not such a fury was still left in this world. Weep and despair... for we are in the Overlord's shadow."
A great host of Khavalian horsemen, armoured in leather lamellar reinforced by strips of iron and wielding composite bows, lances, sabers and small shields had assembled outside of one of the larger grassland towns of the northeastern stretches. Clouds of dust followed behind their battlegroup's hooves, with grizzled Horse-Sergeants leading their units of 8 in organized, spaced fashion.
A horseman with a larger shield, accompanying Princess Kayala Karad, rode forth in earshot of the city walls as the army had made camp around the city. A parlay with the leaders.
"Surrender peacefully to the Overlord and your lives, property and well being will be respected, and one can join the rising star of Khavalia- merely having to pay tribute to the Overlord in return for his protection, safeguarded commercial routes that'll undoubtedly create jobs and success in communities, and the freedoms of mobility, worship and means to run their community how they wish.
Resist this notion, and you will see your farms and homes burned and pillaged, your families ripped from you, your warriors and soldiers slain in battle mercilessly, and your cities sieged into ruin."
The discussions were inherently brief.
Resist and die.
Or join a glorious empire and bask in its benefits.
The choice was theirs...
"Slaughter them! For the Overlord!"
Sieges were inevitable in many cases. Expansion was the objective and by the will of the Great Cavalry Army it would be achieved!
Blades swung and with arrows loosened did the defenders suffer the onslaught of the army.
So too did deserters and turncoat traitors as loyalty was to be supremely valued. Prisoners were one thing- fed and rationed properly in modest accomodation as honour dictates... but those who turned on their kin? Were returned to them in spectacular fashion.
Boiling pots large enough to fit several men were crafted, and these despicable traitors to causes were cast inside and sealed shut- to be boiled for their transgression towards fealty, boiled alive until their murmured drowning screams were no more, and cut to more portable sizes. These deserting scum were then thrown back to the defenders themselves with siege engine in smaller pots, to be bathed in the bloody, boiling hot remains of their cowardly kin and even the likes of any who dared to betray the Overlord in his own army.
The message was clear. Pledge your loyalty and be rewarded. Defy such noble declarations, and suffer the consequences!
Equally brutal was the fate of criminals, brigands and outlaws in the empire. While the grasslands and forest edge communities either buckled in fear and took the knee to avoid bloodshed, or fought an unrelenting total war-
In the west were the river communities occupied, and their pirate and brigand populations enacted a campaign of extermination.
Amnesty was only provided to those who turned themselves in and were willing to work off their crimes. The rest?
Hunted with impunity. Their remains to be hung from the trees along rivers as a message to all- banditry was not tolerated within Khavalia!
The likes of the mercenaries, the free companies were the charges responsible for this. Armour clad warriors who unlike their Khavalian masters tended to fight in more local, but no less intimidating methods of warfare.
Armies of soldiers who amassed would soon know the smoke and fire that Khavalia brought with them as well... the clashing of blades and the screams of horses and men would join the trumpets and horns into a cacophony chorus of death and destruction- as yet the blinding smoke made ghosts of all.
In Greshnere wood beside the Kilne a monument does lie,
To each forgotten fairy prince and long lost even lorde
To the world they left behind and the many who did die
To those corruption drove to madness like a dragon down a hoard
Still the whispers in the woods remain for those who'll hear
Whispers of fey spirits, in the forms of crows and mice
Back to that Glittering Hall, they shall swiftly disappear
Return to that pale reflection, of a state of paradise
Upon the throne within the hall Elf Lord Renark of Yewhold rules
That once held wonders far beyond the craft of mortal men
Having lost so much he seeks to reforge the tools
That will allow the ancient spirits to forge wonders once again
Few adore the young prince Tamric, yet he leads them all the same
He is gone both far and long abroad, from his ancient home
Through valour in those foreign fields he enlarges his clan's claim
And when he returns, it may be for faster ways to roam
Lesser known is ancient En, a spirit of the wild
As much or more than she's an elf, she's averted madness' touch
Though few would judge her power from her face and manner mild
If you seek to cross her path you'll regret it oh so much.
Yes this I'll tell you of Samirra, where nature's servants lie
But warn you not to journey there, for those proud few, shall die
