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The Lonely Earth - Earth ISOT into Magitek fantasy

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Religious and Divine Compendium: Part 2 (Yntanaer part 2: Harusan)
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    • Harusan​


    In brief: The Grave Keeper, the Eternity Judge, the watchman of the crypt, the lord of time, the weaver of fate, and the font of prophecy. Once a God Ganot, a master psychopomp to begin with and one of the oldest beings in the outersphere (certainly nobody has recalled a time when he wasn't around), he entered the pantheon through marriage of the equally ancient Ehriserel. Harusan is one of the only Yntanaer deities to not be originally a Fae, a Faekin, born of Faekin devotion, or made by anything relating to the Faekin. He is alien and apart from the rest of the pantheon, but he considers them his comrades all the same and his affection for Ehriserel is deeply genuine. All of the Yntanedi give their respects to Harusan, and while he defers the general role of leadership to Ytaliana and Norvol in most cases, when he advocates for a course of action it is rare for others to disagree with his suggested path. Even among other pantheons, he is respected, and many pantheons send their dead to be judged in his court.


    Harusan is a somewhat intimidating deity to be sure, but he is staunchly opposed to what mortals of his faith would consider to be Evil and is deeply understanding of the various means mortals use to avoid meeting him for good or leaving the realms he judges to them early. He even taught many of the early Faekin how to use resurrection magic keyed towards mortals. However, he is also one of the greatest foes of the Undead and other means of subverting life and death he and other magomorphs consider aberrant. Means that rip the soul from the cycle entirely and condemn them to the Darksphere or other realms; essentially disappearing from the standard magic ecosystem. For a Dedroth to consume a soul is one thing, it is a divine devouring another divine spark. For a soul to be lost to undeath or to a Druzhic being is to deny it to all and to feed Druzhoth's argument with the other Magoultima that creation was a mistake and should be destroyed entirely.

    Appearance: Harusan appears primarily as a figure wrapped in a hooded cloak whose shadows hide a clock. Whether the clock is the face of his true form or is a mask is a matter for much theological debate but the longer one stares into the clock, the more they start seeing of possible futures, until they see one where they face the judgement of him and his court. His cloak is grey, white, and black, and his cowl is of relatively simple make. When he opens his cloak, he is virtually always wearing a long sleeved robe with gloved hands and booted legs which only rarely emerge from his cloak and robes. When brought to battle, his cloak seems to harden into a metallic complexion, and his pendulum like scepter and clock hand like wand become the mace of ages and the spear of judgement respectively. To see the Yntanaer God of Death and Time's full fury is a rare thing however, and even fewer beings would ever wish to provoke it. He has no preference for alternate forms, and can appear as virtually anything.

    Holy Symbol: A clock face with a sleeping figure at the centre.

    Favoured Animals and Plants: The Praying Mantis, ever patient, is the chief holy animal of Harusan, and the Bristlecone Pine Tree is his favoured plant.

    Sacred Weapons: Harusan favours the spear and the mace.

    Cult: The Cult of Harusan is often called the Mortuary Cult and is made out of many who wish to understand death and time. Whether it is out of grief, curiosity, fear, or the like; they all have a place in the Eternity Judge's Cult. Those who wish to oppose the Undead or Soul thiefs and spirit eaters also often come to the service of the Tomb Father so that they may steel themselves against those horrors who would seek to deny the rest that all beings are entitled to if they should refuse resurrection and reincarnation. Those who wish to learn more about reincarnation and their past also often take to the worship of the Grey Master so that he may reveal the secrets of past lives to them. Those whose curiosity leads them to a craving to unravel the mysteries of time or seek the wisdom of the Patriarch of Prophecy also come to the cult.

    Priesthood: The Priesthood of the Mortuary Cult of Harusan tends to the dead of the faithful, guards against the possibility of undeath, and works to ensure the safety of the soul in its passage to the Theosphere to join the deities. The Mortuary Cult also helps the grieving with coming to terms with their loss if resurrection should prove to be unavailable, and also seeks to counsel people away from suicide; offering mental health services to those who despair of further living. They also are some of the premier undead hunters of the pantheon, and also target other beings who may seek to steal, maim, trap, consume, or destroy souls. Select orders within the cult known as the Temporal cults also seek to watch over the flow of time and ensure that it is not meddled with recklessly. Both primarily dress in grey, white, and black.

    Temples: The Temples of Harusan tend to also be crypts for the dead who wish to rest and enjoy the afterlife rather than be called back to the material world. They also are places of knowledge tracking the past lives of those who chose to or were sentenced to reincarnation for crimes such as suicide. They also serve as places to understand time, comprehending the present, researching the past, and divining the future as Harusan is also a common activity here, and Harusan blesses and empowers many Oracles who mingle with his more standard clergy. They are always shared with the temples of his spouse Ehriserel when they aren't part of a greater Pantheon wide temple. As such the paradox of life and death coexist freely here, and efforts to understand space take place alongside those that wish to understand time. Both share a mutual abhorrence for those who would meddle with the soul or create the undead, and they are sanctuaries against such evils.

    Holiest Days: All of time is sacred to Harusan, but the date of his entrance into the Pantheon (roughly about where Christmas is) and marriage to Ehriserel is considered especially holy, and is a time of gift giving and family.

    Holy Text: The Harurabyl is the principal holy book of the Cult of Harusan and it is one of the definitive texts on the nature of souls and time. It offers many parables to help one overcome grief as well as the reasons why one must abhor the unliving and those who would seek to steal away even a piece of the Soul from the natural cycle. It is also a book of many prophecies of possible futures, with the ones that have come to pass fading into the history section of the text and those futures closed off by the advance of the present migrating into the "otherwhens".

    Divine Realm: Penylsimar is the realm of Harusan, shared with Ehriserel. It is the entrance to the planar realm of the Yntanaer and it is where all souls drawn to it are sent through first so that they may receive judgement. His contribution to the realm is the Court of Spirits, where he and his magistrates process the endless flow of souls constantly. Judgements and arbitrations are swift and efficient, and the line is always moving forward quickly. No one need wait for very long to receive their judgement. He himself, or at least part of him, can be seen sitting at a simple but clearly authoritative chair, impassively watching the arbitrations. It is rare for a soul to require the judgement of him in particular rather than being sorted through other deities of the pantheon who have some aspect of his portfolio or his many psychopomps, but when he does serve as the judge, it tends to draw everyone else's attention.

    Descendants: Harusan has given rise to many descendants through his marriage and dalliances with others. He keeps close tabs on all of his descendants, and through his protection those of his blood cannot be made undead and their souls cannot be stolen or maimed. However, his demidivine descendants usually stay in his realm once they pass rather than resurrect as half-mortals.

    Noteworthy Servants: Harusan's primary servants are various clades of Psychopomps and judges of the dead, as well as his Chronowards who look after time's flow. Harusan does not keep or favour any set of mortals in particular. Death and Time are constants after all.
     
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    • 234star said:
    so, I guess that Hemingway lost manuscripts are truly lost forever unless there is a spell that can find them. I do wonder how this will make people feel about suicide once they find out that instead of going to hell, they just reincarnate?
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    Why would Hemingway go to Harusan's court?
     
    234star said:
    what do you mean? I thought if you do suicide, you reincarnate.
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    The laws of the afterlife are entirely contingent on the religion you are most strongly attached to and the laws that your patron deity or pantheon sets for those who come to their domains once removed from the mortal realms.
     
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    Sidestory: A plea for aid.
  • Threadmarks
    • ((Something I whipped up quickly while planning out more content))

    Save the Children Ad, Aired 3rd of October​

    A child runs in a field, parents lagging behind from exhaustion. Click, clack, click, clack.

    The vague impression of something on the chase can be seen, bone white, rattling like a pile of bones being jumbled around.

    An ethereal, snake and steam like hiss intermingled with a horrid shriek can be heard. Click, clack, click clack.

    They continue to run, distant thunder in the form of far away detonations, gunfire and the shouts of fighters can be heard. The suns are hard to see now, the dark is coming, the mists are rolling in.

    They are hyperventilating, panicking. The ground is shaking. The dirt below is wet and disgusting, watery with a film of sin like mud that bursts with each step. Click, clack, click, clack.

    Fire roars over the trees, burning in strange colours while horrid shapes can be seen pressing against the edges of the fire. The child is crying, the parents are tired, so tired.

    Safety is over the hill, there are people who will take care of them, who will protect them. They just need to make it there. Click, clack, click, clack.

    There is light pouring down at the child, friendly, welcoming. But the parents are so far away, they won't make it. The child crests the hill, but looks at their family.

    Arm bones split into odd, spidery limbs, a rattling rib cage grotesquely distended into an army of spidery limbs, skulls distended into a tusked terror, spines extending into a tail, a Geigrat. Spectral faces in mute terror as they burn in cages of blackened bone. It is close now, too close. It will not be denied. The parents stumble. The child looks away. Click, clack, click, clack; crick crack.

    The child is safe, but they are alone. The people are there to save them, but no one is left to raise them.

    Transition​
    The screen fades to black, it is merciful; like waing up from a nightmare as words appear​


    Text: Every day, millions of children across the Zonth ocean region are left homeless and orphaned by the current war.



    Text: Every day, destruction on the scale of the second world war devastates dozens of continents.



    Text: In a war like this, the children are always the first to lose.



    Text: Please. Help them. Your donation can help millions of children clinging to life in the war torn Therangian peninsula.    ​
     
  • Threadmarks
    • you know what would be an interesting topic to look at, psychology. with magic, we can now literally see our mental mind. imagine what new things we can learn about our selves.
     
    Will get a new post in this weekend hopefully.
     
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    Just a conversation
  • Sidestory
    • Lorm Island, Stynox Valley ​

    "What's with the guy in the robes? He's giving me the creeps." Jebediah Stane said, the reverend nervously eyeballing a faceless figure in a cloaked and hooded robe that seemed to step forth at the call of their allies' chaplains as they buried the dead who would not return. Tendrils of energy threaded from the figure as it blessed the passage of the departed and beseeched the corpses to not be profaned by the Druzh.

    "Try to show respect for the Kysinot." A sullen looking halfling, Sernoth Eshramin who resembled a middle schooler who'd spent far too many sleepless nights in a row said. He rubbed his bagged eyes and yawned.

    "Harusan shields us from the gravespawn so that the light of the elfmother need not be called upon." He continued.

    "So what's it like being able to talk to your gods with like...regular words and stuff?" He asked the priest who adjusted his sash and straightened his cap helmet. In a battlefield like this, faith and divine magic were good allies, but layers of armour never hurt as a fallback option.

    "What is it like to pray to something that you could never receive inarguable signs from?" The priest asked pointedly. How does one explain what something taken for granted is like to someone who's never seen it?

    "I dunno, I was always told it'd be cheap if he just spoke aloud in the church or wrote messages in the sky. Free will and all." Jebediah said, maing a cross sign at the sight of more corpses being tended to by the Kysinot as it went by its morbid work.

    "I don't see how active intervention and blessings are precluded by free will. I serve the pantheon every day, but I never feel like I'm being robbed of choice." He said, sprinkling some watery substance on the ground and making a quick request in the High Elven tongue of Tartheylra to the gods so that the soil may bear life again despite the poison of dark magics. The ground began to shimmer, and a soft glow could be seen as blackened and cracked soil began to soften in tone and texture.

    "Where's the faith if you know everything for certain? Are you a priest because you believe or because it's beneficial to you, Sernoth?" Stane asked, the glower from the halfling dispelling any doubt that Stane had that Sernoth was not the twelve year old boy he resembled. No child of that age could give a look so coldly disapproving and outright offended. That was the barely contained venom of a theologian you just cited Dawkins at.

    "I believe that the Yntanedi are the best option for us. I believe that they care for us and protect us. I believe that no other deities are able to offer what they do; and that they have shown the best path to understanding and purpose. That they are tangible doesn't lessen that. That I know they aren't all powerful doesn't change that." He said, his usual sullen expression hardened into a straight lipped glare.

    "Why not worship those magoultima or primal dominotes though? They're more powerful aren't they? Why pray to something you know has limits?" Stane said, coughing as he tried to salvage the conversation before the halfling could write him off as an insensitive jerk.

    "The Magoultima aren't concerned with mortals in the sense of answering prayers. They deal in the fates of universes, not of souls. Druzh the shadowed hates life and the creation of his siblings, but he doesn't care to reach out and smite us. What would be the point, when he wants to show that we aren't worth creating by our actions? Lyrr is loving, but in a distant and impersonal way. She loves the idea of life, not so much the person. There's no point in forming a true church around that." He said with a sigh, turning away and seeing that things were starting to get dark as the suns slowly slipped over the horizon. With a benediction to the Solar Mother, he called forth a series of glowing orbs like little suns to light up the fields and provide gentle but strong illumination.

    The fields, quickly being turned into a cemetary, were disquieting in their mixture of death and renewing life. Priests of other faith were examining the dead who would not return in all directions, seeking to intern the bodies that the soul would not return to according to their traditions in life. And everywhere the taint of dark magic was being pushed back, and the faint traces of life were starting to return even as the haunted skeletons of druzh withered trees almost seemed to recoil from the light.

    The dead who wished and were able to be restored however; were quickly being filed off to rejoin the survivors. The sight brought a small smile to Sernoth's face, but he dropped it as soon as he looked back at Jebediah.

    "As for the Dominotes; the Primordials and so on. I'm not a believer in their existence. The idea of beings who would see the likes of the thirteen makers and your God as specks of dust in their eternal constellation seems silly to me. And if they were real, if they have such might and allow things like that-" He said, gesturing to the still smouldering remains of an emptied city stripped of life by the Kumun before bringing his hand bac to his side.

    "-To happen across an infinite number of infinities of possibilities; I don't think I'd even want them to talk to me."

    "That how it is huh? Hard to believe in things that don't show themselves before your eyes?" Jebediah said, stroking his chin.

    "Honestly? Yes." The Halfling said as he climbed over some rocks to get to another section of the corpse handling field.

    "You're awfully materialist for a priest."

    "We are moved by actions we make under circumstances we can't decide. A religion that can only offer ideas with no works doesn't feed the hungry or shelter the body or soul."

    "My church has had countless food drives though! We offer our clothes, money, food, and work!" Stane said, raising his voice ever so slightly.

    "Then you have done good works and don't need to worry about what I say. If I wanted to cloister myself in nothing but ideological reflection I'd have become a hermit." He said, nodding and finally giving a full smile.

    "What kind of priest are you?"

    "A war chaplain. I don't have the temperment to be a paladin or an inquisitor, but my place is in battle. I'm no preacher or missionary." He said, patting the magic bag he hid away his Bill polearm in.

    "I was wondering about the armour actually..." Stane said with a nod.

    "Even if you aren't intending to fight, being a priest in areas prone to violence is dangerous business. But me? I look to be where the fighting is heaviest. Lady Hyramene would have me be nowhere else."

    "What's it like to serve a war god?"

    "It's a demanding life, but I don't have any regrets choosing it. I like to feel as though I'm helping, that I'm making a difference. And it's easy to feel that way when you're smiting some monstrous horror who eats people." He said, adjusting his cloak to wrap around himself as he started to walk at a relaxed but brisk pace.

    "I'm feeling as though there's going to be a "but" somewhere in that sentence." Stane said, clutching his bible as he followed him.

    "You always need to be on guard for monsters of every shape, whether that be familiar, abhorrent, or alien. Hyramene searches for the foe without to destroy and Kuranok defends against that which comes to our gates; but we need Tyramana and Polkros too; to protect against the internal threat." He said, glancing over at the reverend.

    "Heretics?" Stane hazarded.

    "No. Corruption, exploitation, alienation, xenophobia, poverty. People turn to crime, to dark powers, and to hatred when they are scared and hurt; and they turn to anything that can promise to banish their fears." He explained, looking sadly at the withered trees and then down at some more corpses in need of proper benediction. Though not a priest of the grave gods, he gave his wishes for safe journey and fair judgement all the same before signalling to his comrades to watch over those who had passed on while Stane thought about it.

    "So these necromancers, if I'm getting at what you're saying; they're not just looking to escape death? Certainly seems easy enough to avoid the reaper if it's not your time around here. They take it up because they're scared? Of what? Losing control?" He said, stroking his chin.

    "Necromancy is a magic of scorn, greed, and fear. A wizard becomes a lich because he fears judgement and is willing to give up his connection to his life to escape judgement forever. If your soul is bound to a phylactery, you will never find yourself before any godly court. A Stryg, or grave knight if you want to be a little less formal; similar principal, just with a different locus for the soul of the warrior."

    "Ah that I can get. A sinner who's afraid of the big fire below catching him for everything he's done wrong."

    "Nice to see that concept is universally graspable in your faith."

    "How did you know of the word of go...Christianity before we got here?" Stane asked, studying the halfling's expression as he yawned and stretched slightly.

    "This is far from the first time followers of your faith, or beings from other realities in general came to this realm. This universe seems fond of calling to portions of other realities for reasons we don't know; settling them on various worlds. Though I am slightly concerned that events like this are happening more often. And your iteration is new, definitely unique compared to the others. Most of what you all have brought up to me is pretty new overall." He said, stiffening his stance again and blinking a few times.

    "Why do you think that is? Why this universe calls out to others?" He asked, leaning in a bit more now; curiosity intrigued.

    "Honestly? Probably the aftermath of the daft rituals the Kemendi got up to. I can't begin to imagine what the Versecrash was like, but I don't think something like that can just happen without permanent effects. I'm no cosmologist though. As to why it's happening more? I really don't know...might just be a cosmic season or some of the greater powers messing with more rituals. I don't put much stock into theories blaming the fiend kings, the lords of madness, lich cabals; or that rambling prophecy of the six of twenty four and Waldemar." He said, conjuring himself some liquid in a cup and having a sip.

    "I'm still bewildered there was a family called Totenkopf myself." Stane chuckled as he took a seat on the nearest available platform.

    "They used to be called Eisendrach."

    "Iron dragon? Why change?"

    "Emperor Karl the Butcher thought it didn't suit the new direction of his dynasty."

    "...I think I get why those Ostervanian boys and girls were so angry now." Stane said.
     
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  • Sidestory
    • Mental Omega said:
    ​

    "This is far from the first time followers of your faith, or beings from other realities in general came to this realm. This universe seems fond of calling to portions of other realities for reasons we don't know; settling them on various worlds. Though I am slightly concerned that events like this are happening more often. And your iteration is new, definitely unique compared to the others. Most of what you all have brought up to me is pretty new overall." He said, stiffening his stance again and blinking a few times.
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    I hope we get to see this alternate version of Christianity. to bad the christain priest dint show any magic in this update like kysinot and the halfling priest.
     
    Candidates and Campaigns: 5th Edition
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    • I've decided that I may as well post the completed docs one at a time rather than sit on them for a wider "mega-update."

    Bernie Sanders Campaign speech transcript. October 25th, 2019.​

    "People are asking what are your policies on defense? It's one of the biggest questions we're facing right now and some are saying that it ought to take priority over climate change. People are also concerned if the new situation means that we should rethink all of our policies or focus on stability?" The reporter asked, all cameras on the rally focusing on Bernie Sanders. He seemed revitalised, more energetic than ever before, and he was already a spry man for his age. He beamed with confidence and the energy of a man with convictions.

    "What, we get a new planet and we're already looking to make it a dump?" Sanders joked to the laughter of the crowd before gesturing for their silence. He had tried some of the healing magic that the locals talked about and he looked and felt like a much younger man already. All the pains of old age had withered away, wrinkles smoothed over, and his hair was fuller; of course he didn't go too far, he had an image to keep. Still, that little thing, the hand motion felt a lot easier than before. Small things that the gradualness of aging tends to make you not notice but a rapid regression does.

    "So, defense; we're used to being the number one military power in the world. That's been our thing since 91, some would say even earlier. But you know where that lead us? Complacency. The defense industry is one of the most corrupt and inefficient systems on the planet. Where do generals go when they retire? They get nice jobs at Raytheon, Lockheed-Martin, General Dynamics, the works." He said.

    "They push something we might not need but the big defence companies want to sell to congress and hey; we're civilians, we're not as familiar with the nuts and bolts of military hardware as we could be; so we decide it sounds good enough and approve it. Then when they get to retire, they get a golden parachute, they put some money into lobbying, the cycle continues."

    "Then what happens? Delays, cost overruns, underpreformance and we let the defense companies get away with it every time because they are accountable to no one. There hasn't been an enemy who could defeat us in a stand up fight since the Soviet Union dissolved, so we brushed it under the rug; even when this problem was getting underway in the cold war. Even when the industry and the department has squirreled away literally trillions of dollars in black money and accounting errors." He continued more emphatically.

    "The military has always been a black hole of spending with no accountability and an endless cycle of corruption as big companies and pentagon officials scratch each other's backs. And now we're facing an existential threat. And we're supposed to trust our fate in these guys? No, I don't think so. Either we need to shape up and fix the rot in the defense industry or we are going to be sending our young men and women to their deaths or even worse; death is going to come to us and we won't be ready." He said, looking around the area and making a sweeping gesture.

    "I asked for a study on how America would fare in this war we've decided to commit to, one that I am not opposed to; the Strakhul and their allies have made it very clear they don't want to coexist with anyone else. And the verdict is that we're likely to face millions of deaths. More than every war in our history combined. We are likely to face heavy civilian and military casualties, immense damages and strains to the economy that are going to present us with both challenges and opportunities." He said, raising a finger to indicate he was still speaking.

    "Because we are going to need the biggest jobs program in American history to manage this. Every person is going to need to get into war economy jobs, I'm talking infrastructure, I'm talking education, I'm talking actual military work, and I'm talking resource extraction. We're going to need to break the power of the military industrial complex and get it to comply with the needs of America and our allies, or we are going to be fed into a meat grinder."

    "In a few months, American forces in Vanguard have already suffered more deaths in combat action than both Iraq and Afghanistan combined. This is war on a scale we are not geared for, and Donald Trump isn't going to put the kind of pressure on his friends at companies like Raytheon or Lockheed-Martin that we as a country are going to need if we're going to win this. Because we aren't facing guys who don't have tanks and aircraft carriers anymore; we're facing enemies who are geared for total war and we are facing enemies who have manpower reserves in the billions."

    "And here's the thing. Time after time we have failed our veterans. We have sent them to war and given them nothing when they come back besides poverty, aimlessness, and closed doors. We can't afford that. Not when we are looking at the largest commitment of young Americans to conflict since the second world war. Even larger in fact. Not just overseas and to distant shores, but also to defend our homes and families, already we are seeing the Conclave starting to probe our waters and airspace, and our allies; our new allies; they say they are likely going to bring the war to our shores."

    "And when we are facing a situation like this, one unprecedented in our history; where for the first time since the 19th century we face a serious threat of invasion from a foreign nation to the mainland. For the first time since the Japanese Empire took the Aleutian Islands in 1942 we are staring down an enemy able and willing to occupy our lands and our homes. And in the face of this we are asking an unprecedented sacrifice from tens upon tens of millions of Americans across what will be likely years of war both far away and close to home."

    "We want to win this war, I and most Americans are nearly unanimous in our desire to see the Conclave wiped from Xarazanth so that it no longer threatens us and our homes. But we also have to win the peace. When our soldiers come home they need jobs, they need work, they need homes and care. We will give them that. When we face losses in this war, the families of those who have made the ultimate sacrifice will need to be recompensed for the loss of those who would otherwise have provided for them. And we will give them that."

    "And at home, we are going to need to make transformations to our society. We cannot and must not have war profiteering, nor can we have billionaires and megacorporations holding back resources and industrial capacity that is necessary for this fight. We cannot have a wasteful military industrial complex that is more concerned with profit than victory. We are not here to fight for our interests, we are here to fight for our survival. So we need to win as quickly as possible with as little harm as possible so that we can look to beating our swords into plowshares when all is said and done. And that's not going to happen if we need to sink twenty years and one and a half trillion dollars into a single line of fighter jets. That's not going to happen with President Trump wanting to sink billions into restoring outdated ships like the Iowa class battleships because he wants to play with big toys."

    "And when we talk of the future, we need to also look at our infrastructure and energy supply. The transfer from Earth to Xarazanth is not an excuse for us to get lazy. We cannot make this once in a lifetime opportunity of a new planet with fresh resources and a stable climate be an excuse to indulge in every imaginable excess and put us all back to square one. Because what message would we be sending when we; when given a second chance; decide to squander it? Our dependency on oil and fossil fuels is a strategic weakness, one we can ill afford in the present era. We cannot and must not tie the fate of our war effort to our ability to supply fuel for outdated energy sources when there are far better options available. Options that are cleaner, more energetic, and more plentiful than fossil fuels could ever be."

    "We need to think of making use of these new technologies, these magicks and new educational opportunities to ensure that we will win the peace as well as the war. That when all is said and done, we will continue to have a country where every citizen has their freedoms; not just to worship or to speak. But from fear and want. We already had everything we needed to end hunger and poverty, and now we have the tools to make it easier than ever. We have the tools to integrate these new sciences into our economy and bring about a new age of prosperity. And we also need to be aware that America is not just for the straight white man, or even just humans, but for every thinking being that wants to be part of it."

    "And to conclude, I'd like to give a message to the Conclave. I'll echo the words of Frankling Delano Roosevelt, I hate war. I have seen war and the misery it inflicts, and I hate it. Which is why I am seeking to end this fight. To the masters of the Conclave; the Necromancers of Strakhul, the Monarchy of clan Tukuk, the kratocrats of Ziv, the deeplords of Veznar, the Raider Kings of Karos, the slavers of Herfind and to all their allies. We did not come here looking for a fight. But you have made this our concern. You have made it abundantly clear that you have no interest in coexisting with others. But mark my words, we will finish the fight you have started. You worship strength, power, and domination. But when the dust is cleared, you will lose it all, because you are on the wrong side of history."
     
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    • I would like to reiterate something on why I like this story and the world revolving around it so much.

    It is pieces like this. The newspaper articles, interviews, news, products revolving around the cultural shock... Tidbits that contribute to the world-building are pretty much my jam in this.
     
    I mean somebody's gotta unfuck the nightmare hellscape of the modern military industrial complex if you actually want to win a years long, balls to the wall meatgrinder total war that will likely cost millions of NATO member lives and require total mobilization for years.
     
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    Mental Omega said:
    I mean somebody's gotta unfuck the nightmare hellscape of the modern military industrial complex if you actually want to win a years long, balls to the wall meatgrinder total war that will likely cost millions of NATO member lives and require total mobilization for years.
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    Part of what gets to be indicted is how unintegrated the industry is, mainly because it provides more jobs and the cost was never an issue so the companies just charged more when their providers charged more. That and total war usually has monetary concerns become secondary as the MIC suddenly finds itself integrated into a given countries government until further notice.

    Won't reduce testing costs though which is the main cost of guided munitions But maybe magic can handle that too.
     
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