Grim Symphony
Grim Symphony​

The joy had gone from the world.

Yemmen could remember a time when the world was glorious. Back then smiling farmers strolled down from their hilltop terraces, past gleaming new industrial buildings, alongside carts groaning under towering heaps of produce. Grizzled veterans brought back tales of a war against a wild-eyed pirate king and traders from far off lands just strolled right into towns. The biggest problem anyone could name was young men getting a little too excited. Hardly a problem now.

When The Cough tore the world asunder and drowned it in blood, the Ymaryn survived. They did so by being obsessed with detail and organization, paying impossibly close attention to health and cleanliness, demanding total obedience from the people at a moment's notice, and enforcing the harshest of quarantines. And with each passing year those measures grew more absolute as Ymaryn grew more desperate to stand as the last bastions of civilization in a sea of sickness and chaos.

No farmers walked the streets now. Those of them who still labored instead of dying or scrabbling at the city walls stopped a respectable distance away from the gates and left their produce to be picked up, occasionally leaving with a shipment of manufactured goods left for them in a similar manner. The government didn't want rural and urban people mixing. Pretty soon it didn't want people from different districts mixing. Or people mixing at all if at all possible. Public gathering were banned. Taverns were shuttered. The use of the baths was strictly regimented to minimize contact between patrons, and all the pretty attendants were gone. The boundaries between districts were marked out with token walls, and trying to cross those walls outside the checkpoints was deemed a grave crime. In the evening grim faced men and women walked the streets, ringing hand bells to signal the beginning of curfew. A place for everything and everyone in their place, each man doing his part so together they might form a powerful whole, working not for glory but for mere survival.

It seemed like the bell ringers were the only ones who still walked the streets with impunity. Them and the crow-masked Carrion Eaters, briskly walking between grisly tasks. But at least the grim healers represented a kind of hope for the future. True, right now their presence was a constant reminder of the sickness walking in the people's midst, but at least they were looking for a solution. The sound of the bells represented all the harsh measures that needed to be taken just to keep things the same. All the good things in the world needed to be put on hold, all gatherings broken up, all intimacy banished in the name of purity and public order. And still people got sick and died and with each month there was less food and Yemmen could swear the sun and the moon themselves were dimmer and harsher than when he was a boy. It was enough to make him weep with impotent fury.

Then one day Yemmen heard a rumor of a nomad army that lived for the sole purpose of burning down anything that raised men above beasts. And suddenly he could no longer stand it. It was as if something broke inside of him and he knew that he couldn't stand living in this grim world. And he wasn't going to.

Then something happened. If his life was on line Yemmen himself couldn't account for what exactly it was, for what he did in the next two weeks. He knew that he climbed through and under the district walls, that he went to places he shouldn't, that his precious stash of silver coins was empty. But looking at what lay in the corner of his room, he smiled for the first time in forever.

Come morning he would don a crow mask, but one painted with the colors of the rainbow and festooned with rooster feathers. He would take two bells in his hands. And he would ring them, not to drive people away but to call them to him so they might all dance and laugh and have a joyous time together. And maybe the people would follow, or maybe he would be ignored and taken away as a troublemaker. But if he didn't at least try then this was the way the world was now, ruled by disease, starvation, conflict, and death. And Yemmen wasn't going to live in that world any longer.
 
Horseman Conflict
[X][War] Scramble what warriors are available (Sends a Sec War Mission and Mercenary Companies to the east)
[X][React] The economy, fools! (Sec Expand Econ, cannot be taken with Mass Levy active)

Uvothyn threw everything he had towards helping the People, his hair going prematurely grey and white and thin from the stress of constantly trying to make sure that everything was organized and in place to support the warriors going east, even as they tried to restore some of the productivity and trade in the fields. It was a gigantically stressful task, made somewhat harder by subordinates that were more interested in protecting local interests than obeying orders. Fortunately, the process of clawing back some of the rights of Gulvalley started by Myranyn had finally yielded results, and the influx of more warriors under the direct command of the king who could be ordered where needed without having to get foot dragging governors to comply had helped immensely.

Unfortunately, while the effort of sending warriors east and keeping everyone fed was important, it also meant that there was very little work that Uvothyn could get done on the plague itself. About all he could do was ensure that the health edicts were getting out appropriately, and countermand a few stupid decisions. Somewhat fortunately the patricians had decided to throw themselves whole hog into supporting the priests in their efforts to alleviate the disease and starvation. While there were assuredly selfish reasons of pure personal survival and even less honourable expectations of praise afterward, it did warm the heart to see that sort of support.

Unfortunately, soon after the expeditions were sent out, messages started filtering back. The Thunder Horse were under attack. The Thunder Speakers were under attack. The Txolla were under attack. The Banner Companies were under attack. Eastern Redhills was under attack. It was nearly impossible to figure out what was happening when, the enemy moving so fast that some couriers arrived after the next target had already been hit, and there were certainly gaps that indicated that couriers had been either never dispatched or overrun en route. As best they could tell, there were multiple war bands of hundreds to thousands of horsemen supported by wagon camps that were smashing through and slaughtering villages in their way all throughout the north-eastern lowlands. Morale was collapsing all over, and the slaughter was by all accounts catastrophic.

Then came the first message that Uvothyn had been praying wouldn't arrive.

The Thunder Speakers were gone.

Oh, there were assuredly still villages here or there, but the nomads had finished razing the major settlements, and the corridor between the steppes and the lowlands was now open, no doubt to allow more tribes easier access and to join in.

Uvothyn sat on the throne, clutching his chest at the pain in his heart as he openly wept, surrounded by grim faced and tear stained courtiers. Eventually he managed to pull himself together and try to figure out what he could possibly do next.

More grim news of death and destruction followed for a time further, and then the reports trickled up almost entirely and everyone feared the worst. The whole world seemed to be winding down, with the cities being massively abandoned as supplies were stretched to the breaking point and other diseases besides the Blood Cough stalked the huddled survivors. While overall this was mostly people trickling away to try to farm some of the abandoned fields, it still left the cities feeling empty and drabby.

And then, when doom seemed highest and most inevitable, a grim faced messenger arrived with a priority message from the governor of the Txolla.

One of the Sacred Clerks took the offered message and began to read it, clearly stumbling over the first line before he cleared his throat and said in a cracking, disbelieving voice, "The nomads have sent an envoy begging for help."

That caused the court to explode into noise, taking far too long for Uvothyn's liking before order could be restored and the message could continue to be read. "Apparently despite their foul practice, the nomads are not immune to the plague, and it finally caught up to them. They have suffered catastrophic losses, including that of their chieftain and his entire extended family, who all succumbed in short order. What survivors they have left are either retreating to the steppes, the former Mountain Horse territory, or are asking to surrender to us and our protective magic."

This was met with stunned silence, before some priest collapsed to his knees and cried out, "PRAISE THE GODS!"

Spontaneous cheering then broke out, and while it rapidly gave Uvothyn a splitting headache and he had to recuse himself, he didn't have the heart to get the guards to quiet them down.

Still, some of his advisors soon joined him in the quiet of the palace shrine, all clearly wondering what to do next.

"What should we do?" Someone asked. The fight was clearly gone from the nomads, but what next? There were reports that many of their warriors had been forcibly impressed from conquered territories - not the core components, but certainly a significant portion of the infantry warbands that tended to follow up after the horsemen had smashed the defenders of a place or lead them away to thoroughly torch anything left standing. And then there were the camp followers, who were probably mostly slaves of some description of another. Still, the hatred was intense, and there were many who counseled not just to let them go, but to follow up on their destruction. On the other hand...

"To some extent, I want to take them in right away to find out how the plague so abruptly spread to them," Uvothyn said. While a few obviously had the idea to do that and then murder those who surrendered to them, they kept their mouths shut. Once offered hospitality was sacred, and if the gods were displeased with humanity already then such an action would be asking for further brutal reprisal from the heavens.

Uvothyn will take over the main turn, but what to do about the surrendering nomads?
[] Whoever surrenders may join the People (-1 Stability, -1 Legitimacy, -1 RA, 2 temp Econ damage, -2 EE, +2 Light Cavalry, Additional Disease Roll, ???)
[] Camp followers and slaves may surrender, warriors may not (-1 Stability, -1 Legitimacy, 2 temp Econ damage, -2 EE, +2 Econ next phase, Additional Disease Roll, ???)
[] They're on their own (+1 Stability, ???)
[] Pursue the survivors (War does not end)

Astrological Prediction: Run the nomads down! (9)
 
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Always that one guy
One angry voice against the consensus of the priesthood and the patricians.
'So we're all agreed?'
'Aye.'
'Yes.'
'The god's desires are clear.'
'Alright then, now we must prepare to--'
'I OBJECT!'
'Oh gods, not you...'

*Obviously drunk patrician stumbles to the front*
'I DEMAND WE KILL THEM ALL! NO MERCY FOR THE HORSEF*CKERS!'
King: 'Dammit, who let him in. I thought I told the guards to lure him to the taverns if he showed up...'
'And how do you propose we do that?'
'IT'S OBVIOUS! THEY HAVE HORSES, BUT WE HAVE SOMETHING BETTER!'
'What? We do?'
'SHEEP! WE SHALL RIDE OUR FLOCKS INTO BATTLE!'
'...Right, we'll do that then. Hey, you know, I heard there was a tavern that was giving out free beer.'
*Patrician surreptitiously hands coins to guard, guard leaves to find tavern*
'I KNOW WHERE I AN NEEDED!'
'...Gods dammit, being king sucks.'
 
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White, White Light
White, White Light



A month ago, a week ago the nomads were an aspect of the Apocalypse. But today they were supplicants stretching out their hands. And the Ymaryn tradition was clear: those who asked for help in good faith received help. However much it rankled, The People invited them to come and sit by the fire.

And then suddenly they noticed that it rankled a whole lot less than expected. Doing the right thing and extending hospitality at a time when no one could fault them for seeking revenge instead left everyone with a warm glow inside. It was as if this single, grand act of charity restored to the souls of the Ymaryn something that the years of plague had taken away without anyone noticing. Feeling purified and bathed in the warm glow of self-righteousness they went to the task of helping the nomads with a wholly unexpected spring in their steps.

The Carrion Eaters descended on the sickened hordes and picked them apart like the crows they were, pulling them to pieces and carrying them away. Once separated into manageable chunks, the nomads needed to be cleansed. Thus each small band was taken to the nearest shallow river to bathed, in small batches, with the greatest of care devoted to making sure that no one stood downstream from anyone else. Thoroughly scrubbed and dressed in clean clothing, the nomads were lined up so white-robed priests could try to give their souls a similar scrubbing. The nomads had fallen into sin. They made mistakes. Those mistakes were easy to make. Even the great Qybrkyn believed that cities were corrupt places and that plagues were a punishment for that corruption. But the bloody cough put a clear lie to those ideas. Cities all over the known world were emptied out, yes, but the countryside also drowned in blood and the nomads fell prey to the plague as easily as anyone else. Demons cared not where they struck and there was nowhere to flee. The only way to stay safe was to be pure. And the Ymaryn knew how to be pure.

The nomads would learn. They had iron in them. It merely needed to be purified from its base materials.
 
Post Pure Nomad Negaverse
Nomad Negaverse
Zamster said:
Oh shit, what just happened? I thought the plague wasn't affecting us because of our hero king going 'burn 'em all, and quarantine anything that moves'? How the hell did we just explode in a single phase?
Georg said:
Dammit, we were completely wrecking those arrogant bastards too. Just a little more, and we could have taken down the ymaryn! @Academic Tree, what were our quarantine rolls? How bad did we critfail them?
Academic Tree said:
You guys rolled well for your martial, as expected with a heroic martial leading a bunch of light cavalry against a group with only a small number of their own cavalry to counter you.

And then you rolled double nat 1s on your disease rolls.

Which, well, you saw the result of.

Good news, there are survirors of your tribes that escaped death.

Bad news, survivors ran pretty much everywhere, with the Ymaryn picking up the lion's share of them. So all your cavalry tech just got adopted by quite a few groups, with the Ymaryn actually coming out of this stronger militarily than they were at the beginning.
Oilkrillin said:
What? How! We killed like, a million of them!
DoctorMatoi said:
Fuuuuuuck. Wow, the dice did not want us to win.
Veekster said:
I'm calling bullshit on this, AT. You said that this was a civ killing plague, and that it was probably depopulating most of the cities in the world. How the fuck did the Ymaryn manage to come out stronger from that? Their cities should be ash by now, and their rural population should be in shambles. So how the fuck are they fine?
Carrage said:
Ah well, time to get back to running the main 'horde'. We'll get our chance next time we get a hero to crush these arrogant lowlanders.
Academic Tree said:
You only hit their vassals. And, well, I did say almost all the cities of the world. It just happens to be that the Ymaryn are obsessive about sanitation, so their cities are actually mostly fine. Better off than their rural cousins, actually. So while other urban empires would be collapsing at this point, the Ymaryn are just cursing their shit luck and trying to get people to leave their cities and go farm again.

Historians are going to be really scratching their heads at this one, honestly.
Carrage said:
Ah well, time to get back to running the main 'horde'. We'll get our chance next time we get a hero to crush these arrogant lowlanders.
About that. You know how I mentioned survivors? Well, a good chunk of those, somewhat diseased, survivors decided to head back to the steppes. And, well...

Bluium said:
The Sandgirl said:
Whelp. This'll be fun.
 
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Horseman Pandemic Quest
Pandemic Negaverse
Macadamia Nut said:
Well, well, well. You know the Khan who has been stealing your kills?

His disease rolls for this phase were 94, 1, and 1 again.

They uh... they got wrecked.


BurningPassion said:
Suck it, Nomads! Hah!
HeWhoSubtracts said:
Nomads are infected, Ymaryn resistance slowly being eroded, and we have a chance to start infecting the steppe.

Holy shit praise the merciful and benificent Vulture.
Akamaru said:
We just needed keep hitting 'em with disease rolls; they had to succumb eventually.
Not!China, here we come!
Pickachu2024 said:
So, what you're trying to say is that we got to eat a SECOND nation via critfail? Wow.

I guess that kinda makes up for the bullshit Ymaryn rolls on locking down their cities. I guess they sucked up all the luck in the region. :p
WingedOne said:
How did we do against the Ymaryn do this turn anyways, @Macademia Nut? Are their cities broken yet? I mean, they were getting their asses handed to them by nomad hordes, so that's got to have eaten up all their reserves, right?
Macademia Nut said:
The good news about the Ymaryn is their cities are bleeding population as people leave to work the empty farms. You are doing pretty good there.

Bad news is that you've got no luck on actually breaking into their cities. And probably won't for the next full turn, honestly; they rolled up a Hero King to keep things working. And a Spiritual Value emphasizing cleanliness.
Pickachu2024 said:
tryWinrar said:
I gotta ask: WHAT THE SHIT DID THEY EVEN ROLL FOR THIS TO HAPPEN?! How lucky do they have to be to get a Hero AND an applicable value? Can you even roll values ad-hoc like that? I thought you needed to have an open slot for them.
Macadamia Nut said:
They had a slot from completing a quest, and the hero was a reward for completing a megaproject.
That said, if you had struck a turn later, they would have chosen a different reward and filled up the slot already, so yeah, that was pretty lucky.
Clockblocker said:
I call bullshit. I know @Macadamia Nut said this was going to be hard difficulty, but this is just ridiculous.
Macadamia Nut said:
Did I mention? The king they rolled up?
He's actually Poor Martial, Average Diplo, Heroic Admin, Heroic Mystic.
An Unusual Bee said:
...and we just broke the external force that was trying to wreck them.

Ooooops.
 
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Stop: This thing about logic burning is rather appropriate
this thing about logic burning is rather appropriate
@veekie, you have been warned before about using funnies on people you disagree with, like you have done here, so I'm just going to jump to the part where I infract you for 25 points and ask you not to repeat this.

@Burnlogic, as I have explained multiple times, in this very thread there are some things which Sufficient Velocity as a forum, as a community, simply does not have room for. One of these is the advocacy of genocide, whether fictional or factual. Your conduct in this thread has been violation after violation of this principle, enshrined in the second rule of Sufficient Velocity and you have, by your own admission chosen your name specifically to advocate scorched earth tactics, while your conduct has been several, repeated calls for brutal genocide.

This is an egrerious breach of Rule 2, and I am thus putting you on indefinite suspension from the functions and conduct of this forum until a satisfactory resolution has been found.

Do enjoy the vacation and consider your situation should you return.
 
Awesome Map

If we go exploring more and also stop redrawing geopolitical boundaries so much, I'll draw a better map with funnier jokes.

Credit to @Concho117 for the hard work behind this map and @ManusDomine for locking the thread long enough to bore me into making the decorative border.
 
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