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Chronicles of Aldelor IC

Vethenia
Day 13, Month 7 of the Tenth Year in the 500th Convergence Cycle.

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  • Population: 3
    Economy:2.5
    Military Might: 4+8
    Technological Advancements: 5
    Citizen Happiness: 0

  • It has been ten years since Herphaeus was chosen as king by his current companion fairy. Throughout the years, the small village that was Cantobreses had grown into something more. Walls were built, buildings were upgraded, roads were paved, and as the village grew into a fledgling town, people from all corners of Vethenia had moved into it, seeking an opportunity to make a fortune from its' growth.

    This day, Herphaeus woke up with a smile on his face. Why? Because the university he had commissioned years ago is finally complete, and today is the day it shall be unveiled to the world. It might be small, it's facilities might be lacking, and it's libraries might not even have half of the books that it's rivals had in their collections, but it is HIS university. Ever since the man had started his journey of enlightenment, he had always wanted to pass on his knowledge, leave a mark on the world, and the gods above had gave him more than he wanted. Not only that he has his own university now, he had also found himself ruling over a small, but prosperous realm in the center of Vethenia as of now referred to as the Confederacy of Cantobreses. The war between Direnzzes and Littocenes had saw an expansion of Herphaeus' realm as his forces liberated numerous villages from their Littocenian overlords, not to mention the riches that they gained in the war that had been used in building up the fledgling nation. While his realm is certainly nowhere close to being as powerful as one of the city states, it's far from the mere bunch of united villages it used to be. Each of the villages under Herphaeus' rule are defended by simple walls, and linked to each other via a network of roads. Some of them are even armed with cannons to deter foreign attackers.

    As Herphaeus made his way to the small building that would become the Cantobresian Institute of Natural Sciences, he once again mentally recited the opening speech, which was prepared by Messaline weeks prior. His hands were wet with sweat, and his steps grew more and more nervous the closer he got to the building, but he's nonetheless extremely excited of what was about to come. The open ground in front of the building was packed with people, townsfolk that were notified that their mayor was about to make a speech about something and curious enough to see what it's all about. Herphaeus stood behind an old podium, used ever since the early days of the nation. Even though the wood is showing clear signs of rot, the man had never thought about changing it, as he sees no point doing so.

    "I see that all of you have assembled for this auspicious day, my fellow citizens. I am pleased to announce that today shall see the opening of the Cantobresian Institute of Natural Sciences!" Herphaeus spoke loudly with a wide smile on his face. He then proceeded to promise that the institution shall be open to all sentient beings, that great contributions shall be made towards the progress of civilization, that it shall provide education to all for free. He then introduced the staff, all scholars of the natural sciences from all corners of the region enthusiastic about the idea of spreading their knowledge to the common people, except for the janitors, who were just townspeople hired for the purpose. Ending the speech with the fact that enrollment starts now, Herphaeus watched in satisfaction as a few townspeople cautiously made their way to the enrollment booth and wrote their names. This is surely the start of a new page in Cantobresian history.



It's Convergence time
 
Unnamed Narrator
Thus another Convergence Cycle passes in the Chronicles of Aldelor.

Obeying Auberon, king of the fairy’s, call for new potential monarchs to be brought to the holy land of Kingmakers, the fairies Lillare ( Bone2pick Bone2pick ) , Lizabeth ( Sylvio Sylvio ), Lady Lake ( Elucid Elucid ), Luxus ( QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel ), Messaline ( Nyq Nyq ), and Astarot ( OverconfidentMagi OverconfidentMagi ) all bring their respective kings to the Fairy Realm. Some of these young kings meet their would-be-fairies for the first time, displaying much confusion and fear, while others had met their fairies prior and handle the situation with much more grace. Some had doubts. Others had no choice. Regardless, each make an oath to their chosen kings (or at least secured the king’s agreement) to create a bond that would strengthen both fairy and kingdom.

Following Xir’ain’s agreement, Astarot, a deviant from her kind, chooses to break some fairy rules in order to save his dying species from the clutches of Epsil’tal and Sel’vetal following the death of their god. She creates for them a home in Blackwell, teaching them how to hunt as well as many other things as they struggle to survive in a new and unfamiliar realm—hunted by an enemy that wishes them dead. However, a deal with the Mermaid Queen Harii as well as an encounter with the new ‘imp’ race would bring hope to the leviathans. Choosing a king randomly from a race marked for death at least at least alleviates Astarot some of her boredom.

Luxus, who chose Annabelle O’Faris randomly, believing his own luck, struggles to clear his queen of her doubts. He shows her where he keeps his stash of savings, saying that a queen must be wealthy and believing that she can make the best use of the funds he will provide to buy herself queenship.

In contrast to the other two, Messaline, who chose Herphaeus for his love of knowledge, guides her new king to building his kingdom from scratch as he has no wealth or royal blood to his name. With her help, he gathers some villagers together to form a city state of his own in Vethenia. However, they aren’t without difficulties as enemies surround them from all sides.

While new kingdoms struggle to form, old kingdoms also progress. In the land of the dead, Arran’ak ( Karcen Karcen ), necromancers raise the deceased and trade with nearby gorgons. The Jade Empress ( MrThe MrThe )builds the Grand Cathedral of Knowledge. The Sacred Grove ( Mirgris Mirgris )fortify their defenses as their king slumbers. Love is also in the air with the awakening of the Dawn Queen and treefolk celebrating their holiday of match-making.

King Kul’tir, knowing about the new kings and wanting further diplomatic relationships, has his people research airships and sends notices world-wide to reveal that his dead are available to for hire. It is Vethenia that responds positively. Having agreed to assist Direnzzes against Littocenes in exchange for guns and engineers, the assistance of the dead greatly helps in this endeavor. However, allying with the dead brings its own troubles as Herphaeus’s territory faced off against enemy after enemy of city states who opposed his alliance with the Arran’ak’s undead. Nonetheless, with the help of Arran’ak’s dead army, the unification of Vethenia was achieved.

10 years later the Cantobresian Institute of Natural Sciences is built.

Many stories remain untold, however to document all in a single chapter is an impossible goal. Yet many questions are still unanswered. What sort of changes will the new kings bring to Aldelor? Will world peace be achieved? Will Annabelle become a good queen? What is Astarot planning? Stay tuned for the next chapter in the Chronicles of Aldelor to find out (maybe).
*cues the ending theme*



GM Message

Congratulations for the successful completion of the first arc!
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Might not seem like such a big achievement with only 25 posts, but you have no idea how many rps struggle to even get through an arc let alone finish one. Awesome job guys and thank you from the bottom of my heart! Some of you might not be staying, but regardless your post does help to bring down the count and adds to Aldelor's history. For the completion of an arc, every player that has made at least one post gets 10 free stat points to distribute as they please for the second one (obviously your kingdom had to have done something within 10 years even if they didn’t take center stage).

The end of a 10 year arc means the cs is open for revamping. New pictures can be added. New powers. Did your character grow? Did their appearance change? Is there a new king now? Did your fairy learn some new tricks with the growth of the kingdom? Did your king learn something during these 10 years? Feel free to add all that to their bio and more for in preparation for the second arc!

In addition, I’ve decided to give an award to the MVP of each arc for kingdoms that created the best story for the readers to read. A kingdom doesn’t just grow on achievements, but also adversity, struggles, and experiences. Those willing to rp out the struggles and dramas of their nations deserve points just as much as the ones that try to earn them. And I don’t mean just saying it happened, but showing it happened. That’s what people like to read after all. So, without further ado, 10 additional stat points are awarded to


LEVI'ANTH

OverconfidentMagi OverconfidentMagi
You made me love Astarot and Xir’ain. Their interactions were a joy to read and the npcs are well-developed and added a lot to Aldelor’s lore regarding the sea. I’m looking forward to where Levi’anth will go from here.

But there were some close contenders as well, which will get 5 points each. Though they didn't get the mvp award they either made some really good posts or help promote drama in some way.

Vethenia
Nyq Nyq
Herphaeus’s struggles were nice and the unification of Vethnia was well written. Can’t wait to see which nation will send their children to his university in the next arc^^

Arran'ak
Karcen Karcen
Still didn’t get to see as much of Azelea as much as I’d hoped, but this for character interactions and bringing drama. Vethenia’s unification wouldn’t be as good without the undead.

And so now ya'll have to wait until I start the next arc. Here's a bit of a preview while you wait^^

 
Act 2: The First Convergence
TROTOPOLIS
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Cycle.

Nation's Stats
Population: 4
Economy: 7
Military Might: 2
Technological Advancements: 2
Citizen Happiness: 3
Queen Annabelle of Trotopolis stood in her chambers, feet on a stool, while her handmaids helped her get ready for the Convergence of Kings. Brushing her hair. Fixing her dress. Whoever said beauty was easy lied. Annabelle had spent hours being manhandled by her personal ladies, trying on exotic perfumes and swapping from one piece of jewelry to the next. The girls couldn’t seem to agree on what suited her the best. Not that it mattered in the long run. Regardless of little details, the mirror before her showed a woman she would’ve hardly recognized when she was younger.
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It was strange how quickly 10 years had flown by. She didn’t think herself capable of creating a nation at first. Yet, here she was…twenty five years old and the leader of her own people. The one everyone looked to when they had problems.

Truthfully, there were others much more suited to the task than she. Trotilhaus’een was wiser and had more knowledge. Same with Pyros and Rowan. Jerick was strong. Ligora was skilled enough to build a fortress. All she did was gather them together—people who could help to build her kingdom of Trotopolis.

Yet they all looked to her for the final decisions.

These people, who she deeply respected, put their faith in her—a little girl who didn’t know what she was doing most of the time.

Annabelle didn’t want to let them down.

Trotopolis might’ve been a new kingdom. She might not be a very experienced queen. But, even so, it was her that represented her nation in the upcoming gathering of kings. Therefore she had no intention of making a fool of herself or letting another nation’s ruler walk over her.

“What should I expect when I get there?”

“Oh…lots of showboating, royals arguing with each other about how the world should be run, subtle snubs at each other, you know—everything you’d expect from a gathering of the world’s leaders~”

Annabelle turned to glance at Luxus who was scribbling something down on his ledger. Taking account the cost of the dress and their remaining budget, no doubt. He’d become more of a miser ever since the kingdom was founded. “That...doesn’t sound much fun.”

“I imagine not. But the Convergence of Kings is a long-held tradition and one of the reasons that this world has maintained relative peace for so long. I’d go as far as to say it’s one of the core cogs that keeps this world running smoothly. If kings and queens do not meet to discuss their differences there would be much more turmoil. The world wouldn’t be as evolved as it is now. Racial differences would incite war. Fairies would hurt one another. It’s something we fairies see all the time…and why His Majesty Auberon, calls for the convergence every 10 years. ”

As a peasant in Candor, Annabelle hadn’t even known about the of Covergence of Kings, let alone the existence of the fairy realm. Or the fairy that lived in Candor. Such were the secrets of the Candor royal family—or so she’d been told. Every realm operated a little bit differently. Some fairies didn’t like to appear before humans. However, since becoming a ruler of her very own kingdom, she’d become much more exposed to the workings of the world. Races beyond the ones she’d known. Backdoor deals and alliances between fellow rulers. It was a lot to take in.

“That, or Auberon just wants to check up on us.” Luxus concluded. “I can’t claim to read the mind of one so old and wise as he.”

“Lord Auberon must care a lot about the fairies.”

“That’s how I like to see it at is at well.”

An odd answer. “Do you think the king of Vethenia will be there? I want to know how Trey’s doing.”

The island she’d chosen to build her kingdom wasn’t too far from Vethenia so she’d heard news of the unification. However, she had too busy with her own kingdom to pay it much mind. Her brother seemed to take an interest though—young scholar that he was. When the Cantobresian Institute of Natural Sciences was recently built, opened up for all races, he begged her to let him attend. She missed him already…annoying little know-it-all though he was.

“Probably. Messaline is brilliant, but she isn’t the type to break a long held tradition. Astarot though? I’d be surprised if she even shows up. Haven’t heard from her since the calling of kings.”

“Astarot?”

“Black, shifty thing. She doesn’t like to stay in one form for very long, but you should’ve seen her in the day you were brought to the fairy realm 10 years ago. She was in the throne room.

“You fairies have good memories, don’t you.” Annabelle giggled. “That’s why you always seem to remember how much people owe you.”

“You humans just have short memory,” Luxus retorted. “I—,”

There was knock on her chamber doors. It was followed by a slight creak as the double doors opened, revealing a handsome man with a baby dragon on his shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt, your Highness. Minister Luxus,” Jerick, the general of her Land army, nodded at both of them. He leaned against the entrance to her chambers, an amused smile on his lips . “But Prince Salim and the fairy, Tirius, have arrived.”

“Not King Aedeus?”

“Aedeus has fallen ill and is bedridden, or so I hear, and the first prince is busy taking up his new responsibilities to the kingdom. That leaves just Prince Salim to attend this colloquy of kings with you. He assures me he’s been to convergences before and that he’ll do whatever he can to keep you safe. ”

“Lucky you~”

“It’s not like that!” Annabelle flushed.

Jerick chuckled. “Try not to make Trotopolis look bad, My Queen. We’ll hold a banquet when you and Minister Luxus return. The cooks are already brewing up a feast from what I saw when I passed the kitchen.”

Annabelle rolled her eyes. “Another excuse to throw a party no doubt.”

“No doubt.”

Still, Annabelle smiled. Regardless of whether her people partied in celebration of Trotopolis’s first representation in the Convergence of Kings or because they simply liked to party, Annabelle had grown fond of them and they of her. It was a far cry from when she started out.

Stepping down from the stool, Annabelle thanked the two handmaids before nodding at Luxus. It was time to go.


THE FAIRY REALM
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Cycle

The masked man watched as, one by one, the fairies and kings made their appearance in the Fairy Realm. For some, it was the land where their journey of kingship began. For others, it was simply a custom. An age-old tradition set forth by their forefathers. Regardless, Auberon would’ve sent a mental invitation to every fairy, showing them an image of where the next gathering would be held and expected arrival time.

The Elysian Garden.

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An expansive field with many colored flowers, trees, and crystal clear water. Climbing up the stone steps they would encounter a clearing surrounded by stone pillars and, at the center of the clearing, a simple large round table for every nation’s representative to sit and discuss if they so desire.

Truthfully, the setting seemed more suiting for a tea party than a grand meeting of the world’s leaders in his mind, though he wasn’t about to question Auberon’s tastes any time soon.

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The masked man waited for the chatter to drop to a relatively moderate level before speaking.

“Due to some unexpected circumstances, Fairy King Auberon will not be able to attend today’s gathering. Therefore I’ll be acting in his place as the mediator for this cycle’s convergence. Otherwise the rules remain the same as always. One, as all fairies are equal in the eyes of his Highness Auberon, all nations, large or small, are equal within the Fairy Realm. Two, no violence shall be permitted in the sacred realm of kingmakers. Disputes ought be handled in a reasonable manner or settled outside the realm. Three, any fairy or fairy property encountered while in this realm should be treated with respect. Most fairies have been warned to keep out of the garden for the duration of the convergence, but you might still find a couple fluttering about here and there.”

A snap of his fingers caused a parchment to appear out of thin air. A flick of his wrist and the parchment attached itself onto one of the surrounding columns. “The rules will be posted for those that can’t remember. Those that can’t read basic Aldelorian script will have to rely on their fairy’s guidance. That said,” The masked man brought his right hand to his heart and gave a deep bow. “Welcome, Kings and Queens of Aldelor, to the 501st Convergence of Kings.”


GM Message: And so we begin again! For those who want to attend, teleport your character in the fairy realm (preferablely where the meeting takes place), but I’m not a stickler if you’ve got your own plans. Those that don’t want to attend can make a post doing whatever. However, I will be more of a stickler for post requirements this time around:

  • Nation name
  • Nation stats
  • Date. This will make it easier for me to organize when it comes to summarizing and easier for players that want to jump into a particular scene to do so
All of this is required for the post to count, so please don’t forget. As always, the dice will determine how long this arc lasts. I’ll reroll if the number is too little in my mind.

OverconfidentMagi OverconfidentMagi , Karcen Karcen , Nyq Nyq , MrThe MrThe , Mirgris Mirgris , KamiKahzy KamiKahzy , Elucid Elucid , Sylvio Sylvio , general ostruppen general ostruppen
 
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  • ShendorahTrade City of Landover

    Stonemoor's Prosperity
    Population: 0
    Economy: 0
    Military Might: 0
    Technological Advancements: 0
    Citizen Happiness: 5

    Day 1, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Convergence Cycle
    The commoners that live on the northern shores of Vethenia look out across the waves with fear in their hearts. For there, beyond the Azure Sea, lies the mega-island of Shendorah. An inhospitable place riddled with high mountains and stagnant bogs, with seldom few valleys between. The weather is often wet with near continuous rainfall throughout the year, its vast timber forests that grow up in the peaks some of its only natural bounty. The beasts that live in the wilds have adapted to this harsh land and thrive off its limited resources. Those that live in the 'civilized' places also learned to adapt, but in a much more violent manner. Raiders and pirates stalk the Azure Sea in force, ready to strike any unsuspecting ship or village they come across. The Shendorans come quickly, take what they will, and leave nothing but blood and smoke in their wake.

    However some enclaves of raiders eventually managed to band together under a common cause. They began to pool their ill-gotten gains, and from this were able to build a free city for their own use. Tucked away in a small cove on Shendorah's western shores is Landover, a trade city of great renown and ill repute. Merchant ships from this unseemly port travel all across Aldelor, often returning with their holds overflowing with riches and exotic goods. Over time their wealth and influence grew, and now people throughout the world speak of its dark wharfs and smoky parlors lined with secret wonders. A city of wealth, mystery, and murder, for a power struggle looms over the city as various group vie for more control and more profit. In fact the infighting is so prolific that a high-profile murder occurs almost every day, about as often as the rains come through.

    And it was today that those rains had come in force, gifting the perfect cover for dark deeds of all sorts. Water fell from the sky in torrents, battering against a myriad of shanties floating among a maze of docks and wharfs. Where the docks met the land were a series of naturally formed caverns, and inside were dozens of buildings and establishments built with reasonable regard for structural integrity. Above the caverns were shelves hewn into the stone by tradesmen and slaves alike, upon which sat the true seats of power. The wealthiest and most powerful of Landover lived in these structures, supported by stone and wooden stilts wedged into the rock below. A bolt of lightning pierces the sky, just barely illuminating a tiny figure scampering across the treacherous roofs.

    The figure is small, barely a few feet tall, and wrapped in a blue-gray cloak. The thick material serves to both keep off the rain and mask the figure's appearance. Nimbly it skipped and jumped from roof to roof, showing inhuman finesse at this impossible task. Any other creature would have fallen to their death on the slick, sheer wooden planks, but the figure pressed on completely unhindered. It was slowly making its way down, following a unique path that seemed erratic but was steadily bringing the figure down towards the docks. Eventually it hopped off the last ledge, sliding down the last few feet of stone and landing nimbly on an empty stretch of dock. Without missing a beat it began to walk quickly towards its destination, as if it were simply another passerby trying to get out of the rain. It wound its way down docks and around soaking shacks until it came to a small ship, just large enough to house a crew of six or so. The word Fortuna was carved into the wood on its nameplate, carefully nailed in place on the stern. It wasn't a grand ship, but it was well made and sturdy. And that suited its owner just fine.

    Without a sound the figure stepped onto the gangplank and made its way to the stern cabin, opening the door and ducking inside out of the rain. Only when the door was fully closed did the figure relax, hunching slightly and letting out a long sigh of relief. The figure lifted its hands to inspect them, 'tsk'ing unapprovingly at the flecks of blood still stuck to its fur. The target had bled more than he'd expected, that last turn in his sleep had put the knife straight into the artery instead of the windpipe. Of course the rolls of fat had made finding his mark difficult regardless. The figure reached up and unclasped the cloak's pin holding it in place, dragging it off his body in one smooth motion.

    The figure beneath the cloak was a ratkin, essentially a large rat that stood upright and was capable of speech. But this one was unique for its fur was white as snow and its eyes were red like milky rubies. It wore little in clothing beyond a simple covering of its nether regions and a few leather belts that held various tools and pouches. The ratkin placed the cloak over the back of a chair made especially for a being of his size, and then went to a nearby washbasin to clean the evidence off his paws. The clear water turned pink as the blood came off, and the ratkin was left to think about the events that transpired.

    His entry was as perfect as he could've hoped. The guards were easy enough to bypass once he'd distracted them. The old coin toss trick was still just the thing to distract these greedy mercenary types. Once inside it was a simple matter of moving unseen towards the kitchens, where the secret passage connected to the target's bedchambers. It seemed the fat pig couldn't go a day without his precious midnight snack. Once inside he simply knocked over a stew pot to distract the cooks and slipped inside the larder, pulling on the empty sausage hook just like his contact said. The shelves mechanically opened revealing the stone staircase behind. A few flights later and he was inside the bedchamber, where his target was sound asleep in his garish four post bed. It was just that damn neck that had ruined his night. He prided himself on quick, clean kills. But the artery wasn't as quick a death as he needed, and when the target awoke he had to quickly grab one of his pillows and smother the pig until he stopped squirming. Messy, unprofessional. His reputation would suffer for it, but the job was done in the end. Another warlord lay dead in his bed, and it was at the hands of Milkweed, the most feared rat in the city.

    Milkweed sighed as he shook his paws dry, because an uncomfortable realization had set in once again. None of this mattered. Soon enough another warlord would take this one's place, and the cycle would continue. He took the seat that held his cloak and rested his head on the desk in front of it. These thoughts had been plaguing him for months now. It seemed that he had reached the peak of his skills, and that he had a permanent place of employment here among some of Aldelor's dirtiest, foulest beings. A killer of killers, and that's all he could ever be. Even if he decided to move on to grander cities he'd wind up doing the same work. He'd trained in nothing else his entire life, the shadows were all he knew.

    Milkweed looked out the porthole at the various lights dancing on the water. People of all sorts gathered at this port, but most were of the less than reputable sort. And yet this was a city, fully and truly in every sense of the word. A city built on lies, deceit and murder, but a city all the same. A bunch of ragtag pirates and coastal raiders turned this barren cove into a hub of activity and life. Milkweed began to think about his own people, about how their own ways were not so far off from these dregs, and how even they could not organize themselves for more than a decade. The host of clans and disjointed groups throughout Aldelor was testament to the ratkin's failures, and Milkweed couldn't help but wonder. Why? Why couldn't they? If a bunch of stupid, greedy warlords could build something like this, why couldn't they do the same? It was a foolish dream, of course. There were a mountain of problems that would keep the ratkin from forming a true nation of their own. Prejudice, hatred, fear, physical limitations, the capital needed, the space required. All of it seemed like an impossible, insurmountable chasm that his tiny body was too small to leap.

    ...But maybe...

    At that moment a bright flash of light erupted inside the cabin, blinding Milkweed and forcing him to reactively dive beneath the desk. His knife was already in his paw and pointed out in front of him as an effort to put something between him and the unknown. His eyes burned but his lungs were steady, his years of training would dare not let him be discovered when he was in duress. But as the spots began to fade from his vision Milkweed became increasingly aware of a... calming force within the room. Magic no doubt, he'd felt its touch before and this was almost certainly a spell of some kind. But it didn't feel forced or fabricated. He couldn't quite say why but this force felt... natural, even. Like a calm breeze on a summer day.

    Milkweed looked out from under the table and saw a pair of pale, dainty legs standing barefoot on his deck. At least, he thought the figure was standing. But her form was so light and precise that it almost looked like she was floating above the wooden boards. Those legs went up until they were covered by a thick cloak of black and white feathers, and somehow Milkweed knew they would feel softer than any silk of this world. The cloak continued, hiding the being's arms until it revealed a perfectly porcelain face, covered only by a lace blindfold. The woman had long ears like an elf, and antlers of smoked glass growing from beneath her long, onyx hair. The woman was smiling quietly, looking directly at where Milkweed was hiding beneath his desk.

    Nothing about this made sense. Milkweed wasn't anyone important enough to warrant this kind of attention. Sure he was a high profile killer, but this was something straight out of a fairy tale. Only kings and emperors were given this kind of audience, not lowly rats like himself. But she continued to stare at him despite her eyes being hidden behind the lace. And Milkweed felt... oddly right about the whole thing. He couldn't explain it, and it was so far outside of his normal means that it unnerved him. He never went with his gut feelings if he could help it, he always made sure to find more information before moving on a decision. But this was different, orders of magnitude different than what he was used to. And he couldn't fight this feeling of... purpose that was flooding through him.

    Silently Milkweed sheathed his knife and scurried out from under the desk. He stood up to his full height of two feet and looked up at the ethereal woman, who stood no more than a foot taller than he. She reached out an ivory hand from beneath her cloak, and without a second thought Milkweed grasped it in his paw.

    Another flash of light, and then they were gone.



73 posts until the end of the arc.
 
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Isle of MonstersL E V I ' A N T HBlackwell

Nation's Stats
Population: 7
Economy: 11
Military Might: 16.5
Technological Advancements: 3
Citizen Happiness: 7

Day 2, Month 1, Year 1, 501st Convergence Cycle
A black fairy dropped through the large round mirror within her private chambers, and she then moved to the side to be clear of the two large leviathan that fell through following her. Xir'ain, having knowledge of where Astarot would bring them, shifted into his four-legged shape to land beside the pool of water below the hanging mirror. Ore'seur simply landed with a splash inside the pool, only changing his own shape after he'd dragged himself out of the water. He apologized to his king, whom had been drenched by the other leviathan's landing, yet his king payed him no heed. Xir'ain was staring back up at the mirror, or rather he was staring up at the fairy standing on the wall perpendicular to the floor that was staring at herself in that mirror.

Astarot had changed her size to better view herself, growing from a small wisp into a human child and then a tall womanly figure. The shifting darkness that surrounded her dropped away, revealing pale smooth skin beneath. But far from revealing any great secret, the form revealed was that of a beautiful mermaid. "Does this shape please you?" Astarot spoke with Enly'air's voice, but laughed with her own.

Xir'ain flicked his tail and turned to walk out of the room, shifting into his natural serpentine shape on the way out. Ore'seur, after a moment of conflict over following his king or staying, lay down just inside the doorway with his head raised to watch what the fairy did.

Astarot did not care if the leviathan wished to see. Having no shame was a lesser of her many virtues, and she certainly would not take up shame for a plagiarized body. Still, this was her first time back in the fairy realm since claiming Xir'ain to be her king - bringing the leviathan through notwithstanding - and she felt the need to indulge herself. First she got rid of the ridiculous fish tail and replaced it with the long tail of a leviathan, and when that still didn't feel quite right she got rid of that as well, leaving her lower half little more than a vague smoky column. She would come back to that, probably. Astarot ran her fingers through Enly'air's long azure hair and dyed the strands to black, then she froze it so that each individual strand was its own icicle and every motion came with the quiet music of Winter. As much as she did enjoy the contrast between the pitch black and the paleness of the mermaid's skin, it was not her, so she blackened her skin as well, leaving only the mermaid's eyes and lips with their violet color. She drew a line above her breast where black water appeared and poured down over her skin, ignoring gravity to fall over where her legs would be and pool onto the cold stones of the wall. The imagined water simply vanished once it began to slide away from her. That took care of what she would wear, and it got her out of having to decide what to do with her lower body. But no, this was still far too plain. She formed black flames in her palm and ran one arm through it, and then the other, so that she wore the lightless fire as elbow length gloves. It still wasn't perfect. Now even her own attention was pulled away from her face towards what she wore. It was too visually distracting. Rather than adopt anything more subtle, Astarot found a solution in escalation.

It had been many years since she had donned her own wings, even in private. As she was one of the many fairy that simply used magic to move through the air - and her shapeshifting let her use any shape of wing if she did wish to fly - she'd long ago decided that her own wings lacked purpose. But decoration was a pointless purpose, so it felt right when she used the shape of her wings as a black mask that hid her eyes. She stared at herself in the mirror and found this new shape beautiful.

Ore'seur flicked his tail towards the fairy once she landed on the edge of the pool, a motion that she had learned to mean that he was thinking of asking a question. When she asked him what it was, he got up and stepped closer to inspect her new shape. "You looked like that siren," he said. "How?"

Astarot ran her hand over the leviathan's smooth back as he circled around her. "It is the same as becoming any other shape," she answered him.

"You change shape yes, but you became the siren."

"Of course I did. I took her shape as my own." Astrot did not understand the question this leviathan was asking.

Ore'seur flicked his tail and thought of a way to ask that was better. "The land form," he spoke of the four-legged shape that Xir'ain had taken from the king of beasts. "I have seen the younger ones of the prey the king took that shape from. The shape we take is similar to them, but it is different. We take the shape, but we do not become one of them. Not how you became the siren. Explain why this is."

Astarot finally understood what this most curious leviathan wished to know. "Why do you not grow hair and pointed ears when you take the shape of a panther?"

"Yes."

"It is because the shape of a panther is not what I gave Xir'ain when he asked. He had just killed the most dangerous of its kind. Why would I weaken my own king? What I gave him was the shape of himself plus what might be useful taken from the dead panther: powerful limbs and claws, balance and speed. Things that make moving and hunting outside of the water easier. But yes, if I had desired to, I could have given Xir'ain the complete shape of the dead panther, made him a perfect copy of it."

Astarot did not say then the other reason for not giving her king the perfect shape of the king of beasts when he had asked for it. That at a fundamental level, everything, object or living soul, had a sense of identity that knew its own shape. She had turned her king into himself with legs and certain other features, but he was still himself. She had made him small and immobile as a ring, but he was still himself. If she had turned him into a panther fully, then he was no longer himself. His soul would reject the change, or worse, it would grab onto the new identity and reject the old one. Changing things as she did was not without uncertainty and risk. Astarot did not even trust herself to take on another form entirely except when she was able to focus on maintaining the shape and her own identity. This very special occasion was one such time, and more than that she wished to show off.

Xir'ain was coiled outside, his head raised to stare out at the strange land of the fairy. He turned when Astarot and Ore'seur came out of the tower. The latter ran about excitedly, taking in as much as he could of this new place. This was the first time he had been away from Blackwell in a decade, and it was also his test to see if he would be allowed to leave the island as Xir'ain had promised. Over the past years, Ore'seur had learned much about the world beyond the oceans and beyond the Blackwell. He had memorized places and races and people and histories and events, and he'd learned to read and write in foreign languages, and while he hadn't been able to practice speech as much, only really Aldelese as Xir'ain had needed to learn it in preparation for this convergence, he was confident that he could speak at least a handful of the foreign tongues well enough to be understood. Now he stared out at a place so strange and magical that it put all of the places he'd learned of to shame before he'd even gotten a chance to appreciate their beauty for himself.

"Is it time?" Xir'ain reminded the other leviathan that there was a reason for them being here. The Convergence.

Astarot smiled with the siren's smile that discomforted her king. "Yes, it is about time for us to head to the meeting place. We can go there now."

Xir'ain glided up to the fairy and touched his head to her hand, then drew back. "The flames are distracting," he stated. Astarot put out the flames only on her fingers, and only on one hand, which Xir'ain found acceptable. He touched her hand and was shrunk down and reshaped into a black ring about her pointer finger. Next was Ore'seur, who became a mostly identical ring around her middle finger.

Astarot stepped back inside her private tower room and stood in the center of the pool. Her eyes rose to meet their own reflection in the mirror above. But the her in the mirror wasn't standing in the pool, it was somewhere else entirely. Astarot lowered her gaze to look about this different place, as it had become her own surroundings. She stood on the surface of a pond within the garden where the Convergence was to occur. She glided over the ground and up the stairs to the meeting place, her black dress waterfalling down to pool around her feet only to evaporate as she moved on in a mesmerizing cycle while the flames ran up her arms in a contrary way.

Each fairy she recognized she whispered their names to her raised hand. She knew little of the kings present beyond the old holdovers. She spotted Queen Haarii, already sitting at the table. The young queen held her hands together before her and her gaze steady and distant. It had been many convergences since the merfolk had changed their official stance of political aloofness, and it seemed that Haarii intended on maintaining that status quo. Fairy tales imagined a time when merfolk had once allied with people of the abovewater, but those ages were long past, and while they may have become half-forgotten fairy tales told on land, those histories were told as a grim reminder to those of the sea of what happened when trust was betrayed. As the merfolk saying goes: "the waves break where the ocean meets the land". So while the current mermaid queen was present each convergence, she often participated only as far as exchanging pleasantries, and that was only for the more extroverted of them. It seemed that Haarii was not one of those. The queen didn't even acknowledge Astarot. Or perhaps it was that she did not recognize the fairy as the same one that so often met with her? Astarot had changed herself rather dramatically for this event after all. But the mermaid's fairy certainly recognized Astarot. Nereid was glaring at her icily. She blew him a kiss.

Astarot's gaze swept across the gathering of fairy and their chosen. She recoiled at one. "Fade?" What was she doing here? The seer was beside a small figure. If she was here, and she was with someone, then it must be her chosen. The fairy that saw the future had chosen a king. The chill Astarot felt was not from her iced hair. Unsteady times they were entering. But she did not yet know why Fade had chosen to enter the game now. Was it because of something she had seen in the future? Astarot thought for a moment of her own plans. But any number of things could happen in the future besides things she touched. It was just as likely to be something she was not in any way involved with. Either way, she turned away from the unsettling sight. Her future-seeing aside, Astarot found the other fairy far too similar to herself to possibly find pleasant.

Finally she found the fairy she sought. The blue-skinned fairy was speaking with the Lady of the Lake in hushed tones, but Astarot could see the lines of urgency about their eyes as they conversed. Cryogane and Albion were neighbors, so it was only natural for the two fairy to have things to discuss, but Astarot smelled delicious conflict in those words she couldn't hear. Perhaps she'd gain something more than she'd planned on this day after all.

"Lillare, a pleasure to see you," Astarot greeted the blue-skinned fairy. She had not waited for the other two fairy to be done speaking, and her tone implied a friendship that did not exist between herself and Lillare. In fact, the seer notwithstanding, Lillare was the fairy most on guard against the dark fairy's constant plotting. The two whose discussion she had rudely interrupted regarded Astarot with suspicion, but there was also something else in the gaze of the Lady of the Lake. It was odd for her to let her emotions show so plainly, surely there must be something dire happening in Albion. Astarot pivoted her attention to the Lady of the Lake. "And a pleasure to you as well your Ladyship," she said with a smile.

"Is there something you need, Astarot?" Lillare regarded this interruption coolly, but maintained her politeness.

"Yes actually." She allowed her veiled gaze to linger on the Lady of the Lake for a long moment. To Lillare, "I wish to commission work from your own fine smiths and craftsmen."

"That is hardly a matter worth bringing up here," Lillare remarked. "Unless you are saying your nation wishes to monopolize Cryogane's forges for some other purpose. Is that what you speak of?"

"Nothing of the sort," Astarot waved away the assumption of warmongering that the other fairy seemed to have of her. It wasn't wrong, so she took no offense at it, but she had other goals in mind for now. "I do wish to have a few tools made, but I do not think it will take any large portion of your nation's crafting to supply the amount I desire. More than that, the main piece I wish to commission is a trinket, a gift for my king to celebrate his rule."

"Then I do not see why you bring this to me," Lillare was firm on this. "Cryogane welcomes trade. Simply bring your payment to any free smith and have your trinket made."

"I am able to pay," Astarot raised a finger to her lips. "What about a currency exchange? What I offer as payment holds value, but would be unwieldy to use in your nation's transactions."

Lillare was uneasy about any kind of interaction with Astarot, but trade was trade. So long as the fairy was ale to pay, she was not barred from personal trade in Cryogane. It was only with larger trade agreements that oversight was necessary. "Very well," she said. "I will meet with you at noontime on the first day of the next month. Come to Snowslide Keep then, and we will oversee the transaction."

"Wonderful!" Astarot beamed at the cold fairy. "My king will be overjoyed at receiving the masterwork of your people as a gift!" With her hands together before her, the dark rings on her fingers eclipsed her lying smile.

"Speaking of your king," the Lady of the Lake inserted herself back into the conversation, "are they not present here? I have not heard any word of the nation you founded in these past years. I'd like to know of it, if you are willing to share gossip."

"It is not yet time for me to reveal the fruits of my work," Astarot said evasively. "When that time comes, you will notice, I should think. My king will bring change that will be felt around the world."

"That has the ring of bragging to it," Lillare said. "Your nation is young, and there are others much older who do not claim as much."

"Your nation is strong?"

The question came from the Lady of the Lake. It was not something Astarot had expected from her, but it was a card she would gladly add to her hand. The black fairy grinned. "Quite."


72 posts until the end of the arc.
 
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ARRAN'AK

Day 2, Month 1, Year 1, 501st Convergence Cycle
Nation's Stats
Population: 15
Economy: 8
Military Might: 19
Technological Advancements: 12
Citizen Happiness: 8

Another cycle down another convergence to happen, though at least this time there were new faces. It was good to see the world once again becoming populated by chosen nations. Still this was all part of a cycle one that sometimes annoyed Kul'tir. Nothing lasts forever not even a kingdom ruled by an immortal lich, Kul'tir had broken one cycle and had pondered long upon breaking another. Looking to the others he towered over most , his size having grown in undeath as his power did; though he made sure to not grow to large. Kul'tir was currently a good ten feet tall and bedecked in some of his best finery, bit he made sure not to put on to much a balance between opulence and modesty was needed.

The other kings and queens were mostly humans though one king was missing though the fairy that was there in his stead Azeala had told him had a malevolent reputation. Their nation would need to be watched just in case the shadowy fairy lived up to that reputation. The true surprise of the Kings was the rat man they were almost never chosen as kings by the fairies. It truly was an odd choose given their short lives there would likely be a great amount of in fighting for the throne and amount families. The kingdom would likely be unstable or more so than any other kingdom. Azalea whispered if the fairy being an odd one as well having only just shown interest in the world.

Sadly it seemed the fairy king would be out, Kul'tir had wished to meet with one who he considered an old friend. Few could match the age of Kul'tir and even fewer were older and the fairy king was the most active of those, at least if you discounted all the fairies he guessed equally old rulers was more apt. It was during these thoughts that the black fairy moved about and started making deals, it seemed she was the one in charge as she moved first to establish relationships with others. that was not unheard of, but most tried to play up their kings as the leader and not the lost follower. Kul'tir wondered what the black fairy was seeking was it to start things small then open the chances to future pacts until the fledgling could stand on it's own? Small things often lead to bigger deals, still just where were the nation the black fairy held sway over was located, Kul'tir had never really heard of them, had the fairy made a people to govern, that would be new.

" Well then with the rules out of the way we can get down to business " Kul'tir said his tone warm likely reminding someone of a grandparent that was happy to see his kids. " It is nice to see so many new faces it does and old man good to see youngsters rising up to fill the empty seats" he continued making this something of a speech though every word while meant to be kind did hold a hidden meaning that was only thinly veiled. " And i see some interesting choices have been made for kings let's hope that will bring some changes to this world, it has been boring for far to long" He chuckled now he could get to the point " Most of your nations are young, a mere decade at most and there are many challenges that come with such and age, growing pains, challenges to your holds, recovery from wars, and all manner of devastating repercussions. Thus i will announce that Arran'ak is willing to offer aid to help you all establish yourselves" he finished hopefully establishing a friendly image in the young kings minds.


71 posts until the end of the arc.
 
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Vethenia
Day 1, Month 1 of the Year in the 501st Convergence Cycle.

View attachment 526281


  • Population: 16
    Economy: 2.5
    Military Might: 9
    Technological Advancements: 15
    Citizen Happiness: 1
    The streets of Cantobreses were packed with people, all trying to get to the nearest polling station to cast their votes. Huge banners were hung on the buildings lining the streets, each calling for the people to vote for a specific candidate. Within the numerous taverns across the town, there were discussions about the various candidates for the future mayor of Cantobreses, although none of them had the popular support that Herphaeus had.

    However, that is not the case is every other major Vethenian settlement, for the cities such as Raguzzios, Sparucius, Direnzzes and so on remain empty and desolate. The people had chosen to huddle in fear within the illusion of safety their homes provided, whispering about the rumours they had heard about the Necromancer, none of them good. The rich and the elites barricaded their houses in and refused to even step out of their estates, instead sending their servants to fetch the household the necessary supplies. Some went even further and started their own farms and workshops, isolating themselves even further from the rest of the world. During the night, some townspeople crept their way out of the city into the wilderness, planning to make an escape to the foreign lands of the Saragothic Kingdom, Albion, Tesselces, Cyrogane, and even the faraway lands across the sea. The sporadic escapes continued long after the undead armies had long left the realm, for the terror sown among the population still remains fresh within their minds.

    Those that still remained on the street are either the foolish, or the desperate, sometimes both. The homeless folk continued to beg on the streets at day and huddle within the alleys at night, but now that the cities are barely alive, most of them had either starved to death, or left the city for the nearby wilderness. Those that remained had withered to the point that they might as well be corpses, as they lied unmoving on the side of the streets, barely showing any signs of life. Thieves and all sorts of criminals also run rampant in the streets, now that the sheriffs no longer patrol the streets and apprehend those who break the law. This phenomena, known as the Silent Days, would continue for a few more months before the public finally recovered, but nothing would ever be the same again.

    However, within a small house in the city of Raguzzios, there were two men having a conversation over two mugs of murky beer, an unwanted product in the past, now an expensive luxury item that not even money could purchase at times.

    "Damn it, Darius. Your brewing skills are still as shitty as they were ten years ago. Is this even beer?"

    "You can fuck right off, Soltes. I'll let you know that even this 'shitty beer' is now considered a luxury. We're literally drinking like kings now."

    Soltes looked at Darius with a look of disbelief, before looking over to his mug, and then back at Darius.

    "Really? You might as well say that shit is now a luxury."

    "It is! With no one cutting firewood for those fat asses, they are now buying dried up shit to light their homes. It's not everyday when you see their faces light up when you present them with shit."

    "You can't be fucking serious, Darius."

    Darius stared at Soltes with a serious expression.

    "Whatever, you're the fool that still roams the streets now."

    "Hey, I take offense to that."

    "No one cares, Darius."

    "Ouch." And with that, the two friends burst into laughter, before they slowly calmed down."

    "Actually, Soltes. Who do you think is going to win this 'election'?"

    "I mean, there's only that armless beggar that's still somehow alive now, and that 5 year old kid that somehow got nominated. Not much to chose from."

    "You know, I'm thinking of nominating myself. Being the fucking mayor must be a pleasant job."

    "You crazy bastard, you know that the Necromancer can't be serious. Seriously, letting the people chose their leader? He must be nuts to do that."

    Darius only shrugged in response.

    "Might as well give it a try. I mean, I can't possible lose more than I already did from this war."

70 posts before the next Convergence
 
TROTOPOLIS
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Cycle.

Nation's Stats
Population: 4
Economy: 7
Military Might: 2
Technological Advancements: 2
Citizen Happiness: 3
Kul’tir, the lich.

King of the Arran’ak, the accursed lands that was home to necromancers and the walking dead. Annabelle repressed the urge to shiver as she studied his unholy form for the first time. His grandfatherly couldn’t really mask the stench of death that followed him. Or the coldness of his presence (though Lillare did a fine job of matching him—if not outright beating him—in that regard).

Why would anyone do that to themselves? She’d heard stories of the legendary king that became a monster of course. How resurrected his dead people. How he defied the laws of life. Annabelle had only just started learning magic, but even she knew his sort of magic was forbidden in certain circles. Luxus had warned her that she would encounter many races in the Convergence. That her reactions would determine Trotopolis’s political sphere. However, even she couldn’t help being human.

Prince Salim’s warm grip on her hand rekindled her flame and reminded her of where she was. Her nation was one of the ones Kul’tir addressed. His words, kind as they were, irked her. He seemed to be looking down on the younger nations that had only existed for a ‘mere decade’and, given how quickly he pounced on the opportunity to offer them ‘aid’, she only half believed his offer to be genuine. Things that were too good to be true rarely were.

She doubted the undead felt any growing pains either.

It was just as Luxus said. Lots of subtle snubs and games. Still...Annabelle knew better to antagonize the king of a nation of undead. She smiled “Your generosity is appreciated, King Kul’tir. Trotopolis may be a young nation, but our merchants look forward to doing business with your people.”

What had Luxus said? Opportunities must never be closed? Annabelle glanced at Luxus who was whispering something to Tirius, then waved at a blue fairy with a fish-like tail. Clearly he had no intention of helping her through the myriad of politics. It was in direct contrast with the black fairy, Astarot, who seemed to be speaking for her king.

“My father would probably agree with you, King of Arran’ak, but I’ve always found boredom to be much safer for the world as a whole.”

Annabelle’s eyes flickered to her left. She was surprised Prince Salim had spoken up. Given that he’d just come to represent his father, she figured he wouldn’t do much more than listen. He wasn’t ambitious as his brother and didn’t seem the sort to like politics too much.

“Though...I am curious what your intentions are, your majesty. News of Vethenia’s unification—backed by the march of the undead—have even reached the shores of Candor. That, along with your ships and runners bringing...word...of Arran’ak’s mercenaries. It doesn’t seem like your style. At the very least, I don’t recall the history books mentioning your undead participating in another country’s affairs before.” He nodded at Herphaeus. “Congratulations, by the way.”

Karcen Karcen , Nyq Nyq

mentioned: OverconfidentMagi OverconfidentMagi


69 posts until the end of the arc.
 
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ARRAN'AK

Day 2, Month 1, Year 1, 501st Convergence Cycle
Nation's Stats
Population: 15
Economy: 8
Military Might: 19
Technological Advancements: 12
Citizen Happiness: 8

Ku'tir couldn't say he didn't expect to be called out for his overly kind words, despite them being rather honest. He did want to help other countries, but the game state craft rarely meant even words that were kind even in intention were without a secret gain. Still the prince didn't seem to realize what he would gain by helping out with the other countries or why a lord of the undead might seek to aid others. This likely meant he was new to statecraft as the queen by him seemed surprised that he spoke up. Well Kul'tir could be honest or he could try to hide it. In cases like this the truth was the best option also Kul'tir had little to hide he did seek to help the other nations as this was a good thing.

" That is quite simple my boy" Kultir started still being rather like a grandfather in tone " We undead have a reputation that is not exactly good in many countries, and i understand why. i have seen many a necromancer makes slaves of spirits, calling people back against their will, and more vile acts. that has left a bad taste in others that they project on us even though such actions carry a punishment worse than death in my lands" He explained and it was true most would think of the vile necromancer that bound and enslaved souls, that robbed graves, and did other vile acts.

while explaining that might not be fully needed he did need to make sure other understood the difference between his people and those that they all hated, those that gave everyone a bad idea of how necromancy could be used. These preconceptions were almost always in grained in any nation always fearing the undead and hatting the necromancers.

" But back to my point, i do have reasons for offering aid and that is to attempt to mend this horrid reputation that criminals have cast upon my people" He explained and this was true he wanted to show he was nice and that he had the things to spare to aid others in both trade and military " I do this now because nations like yours and others have peaked my interest" He said honestly still all his words were kind and he did mean his desire to help " I do hope that answers your question, perhaps you would enjoy a tour of my lands to see why i wish to have this dark reputation dispelled?" He offered having taken an interest in the boy as perhaps a potential ally or at least having a good future in his home country.


68 posts until the end of the arc.
 
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TROTOPOLIS
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Cycle.

Nation's Stats
Population: 4
Economy: 7
Military Might: 2
Technological Advancements: 2
Citizen Happiness: 3

Prince Salim nodded, seemingly satisfied with the response given by King Kul’tir, though, what the prince’s thoughts were, Annabelle couldn’t say. His face remained respectfully neutral. “You do me a great honor, your majesty. If my father should permit it, I would be happy to accept your offer.”

Annabelle had to admit, she was a bit taken aback by the dead king’s proclamation. She wasn’t even aware that Arran’ak had such laws in regards to necromancy, let alone their king’s desire to change the reputation of his undead. Given how long Arran’ak had already existed, she wondered if this was new thing, or if it was a battle he’d been carrying for centuries. Fixing the reputation of his nation, that is. Kul’tir’s dislike of “criminal” necromancers, at the very least, seemed real enough. Perhaps there was more to Arran’ak than her childhood bedtime stories would lead her to believe.

Certainly Kul'tir didn't seem anything like the stories made the lich king out to be.

“I’m not certain if the events in Vethenia garnered your undead the reputation you were hoping for…but I do wish you the best in your goal, Lord Kul’tir. It seems to be a noble one. After all, if your people have been unjustly painted, it ought be rectified,” Annabelle glanced at Salim. “How’s your father, by the way?”

“Still cursing the doctors. I expect he’ll have a good couple of years left.”

Annabelle gently squeezed the hand that comforted her before letting go. “I’m glad to hear it,”

Aedeus was well past his prime. His illnesses were coming on more frequently. Who knew when death would claim the old King of Candor? It saddened her to think that her former king, a man who’d been like a mentor to her since she’d been chosen by Luxus, would die. However, for mortals, there was no escaping the flow of time and life. When that happens, one of his two sons would inherit the crown. Likely Felix, though the decision still lay with the king. No. The fairy.

Annabelle peeked Tirius who now sat crossed-legged on Salim’s shoulder, his leafy wings folded. Aedeus would probably give the crown to whichever of his sons Tirius acknowledged, given his faith. She wondered who Tirius would choose. As a former citizen of Candor, Annabelle couldn’t help but be concerned about its affairs. She was biased towards Salim. However, Felix’s achievements were no less notable. He also had a strong faction that supported him.

“Stop staring at me, Human. Salim will get jealous.”

Luxus snickered.

Gracefully ignoring both of them, Annabelle turned her attention to the man in blue silk that Salim congratulated. The King of Vethenia. He subjugated his people with the power of Arran’ak’s undead. United his country through force. However, Trey had also called him a brilliant thinker and strategist—a man of open mind. He built a university that welcomed all races. He was the first to utilize Arran’ak’s undead mercenaries. More importantly, Luxus had told her he’d been chosen by a fairy the same time she had—10 years ago. He was one of the new kings. “I’d like to offer my congratulations as well, Lord Herphaeus. My brother won’t stop praising your new university in his letters. He says he’s learning a lot.”

Karcen Karcen , Nyq Nyq


67 Posts until the end of the arc
 
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Vethenia
Day 1, Month 1 of the Year in the 501st Convergence Cycle.

View attachment 527756

Population: 16
Economy: 2.5
Military Might: 9
Technological Advancements: 15
Citizen Happiness: 7
The fairy-ruler duo approached the gathering within the clearing, before standing aside to not interrupt the discussion going on. However, that doesn't mean that they are not listening, as any sort of knowledge gained here may prove useful in the future. As he continued to listen in on the conversation, he found out that one of the rulers present was Kul'tir, the king of Arran'ak that had lent his forces to Vethenia just a few months prior, allowing the nation to be finally unified after the collapse of the Vethenian Empire of old. Then, one of the participants, likely a ruler judging by the fact that he's accompanied by a fairy, spoke about his nation, before turning and congratulating him on the Unification. He nodded to the man before thanking him, before allowing the conversation to continue.

A few moments later, the woman who stood beside the man that congratulated him previously, likely the ruler of their neighbour in Trotopolis, judging from what he heard previously, turned to him and congratulated him, before making a comment on his newly established university. Apparently her brother is enrolled in it, but Herphaeus didn't recall receiving a student that was royalty. He probably hid his identity to avoid complicating things, registration was a tad more complex for nobility than for commoners after all, considering the various accommodations that had to be made to guarantee their safety. Putting a halt to his chain of thought, the scholar turned to face the woman and spoke.

"Ah...I thank you for your compliment, the Institute is indeed the finest among all of my works, and it gladdens me to see that your brother is appreciating it, Lady Annabelle."

As he ended his sentence, Herphaeus silently hoped that he got the woman's name correct.
66 posts until the next Convergence
 
Empire City
The First Day of the First Month of the Year 501

Population: 4
Economy: 7
Military Might: 5
Technological Advancements: 8
Citizen Happiness: 1
Today was the launch of the fleet. It had taken 10 years and enormous effort. But finally, on the start of the New Year the Heavenly Armada would set sail and begin the process of visiting every nation they found, and creating ties of trade and diplomacy between them and the Jade Empress. She heard a Gong in the distance and stood, dressed in her finest Regalia, Placed upon a massive Tower topped with a huge Jade Dragon Statue overlooking the Fleet, and putting on her most Regal Expression she began to speak. "Today is the Launch of our Greatest endeavour yet taken. A fleet Ten Years in the making, and a New Great Nation announced to the world. Today is the New Year, and simultaneously it is the day of Kings, where every ruler pays Homage to the King of Heaven. Thus, it is with great pleasure that I ask the Great Green Dragon to send both the Fleet and myself safely on our respective journeys. May Heaven Smile Upon Our Nation!" Slowly, almost laboriously the massive Dragon atop the tower lifted its head and blew gently towards the fleet. Despite the Dragon seemingly exerting little effort in blowing, the breeze it generated was strong indeed, immediately sending the fleet on its way and forcing the crowd to brace themselves and look away. But when they looked back up at the Tower both Dragon and Empress had vanished, leaving the Kingdom under the command of her Husband, the Royal Consort Shan Yu.
 
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Isle of MonstersL E V I ' A N T HBlackwell

Nation's Stats
Population: 7
Economy: 11
Military Might: 16.5
Technological Advancements: 3
Citizen Happiness: 7

Day 2, Month 1, Year 1, 501st Convergence Cycle
"No, I think not," Astarot said aloud after sitting in silence with a finger pressed against her lilac lips as she contemplated the topic and came to a decision on her own, her king's, and her nation's stance. She raised her hidden eyes towards the undead necromancer king. "Your royal undeadness," there was a heavily implied impropriety in how she addressed him. "You have lived, pardon the term, much longer than many of the children at this table. Tell me, what do you know about life?"

"Oh?" Kul'tir said looking to the fairy a little curious he had almost forgotten she had been there. "Well if that is your choice fairy queen," He said a mild jab at how her nation had only her to represent them as if she ruled them. It was an oddity and in truth Kul'tir did not like it if she was ashamed of her king for whatever reason. "Though I would much rather hear that from your chosen king, but I guess that is impossible," He continued not planning to force anyone to accept his aid, and this fairy struck him as one he wouldn't want to help. "Every nation here has the right to chose their path, and if you chose for yours to not receive any form of aid to establish yourself, then more for any who do," He said simply, his tone measured and simply stating facts anyways. "As for your personal question, I lived a life before I died, one cut short after avenging those who killed my loved ones and taking their domains under my rule."

Astarot leaned forward, her fingers together before her. "I didn't ask you about your life," she said in an airy stream. "I asked what you know of life. In the many years you've neglected death, what have you learned about living? Have you learned anything at all in that time, or have you wasted it all?" Her voice was mocking, saying that there was a correct answer to this question, that it was some sort of test. Her hidden eyes were locked on the king awaiting an answer.

"You seem to think I simply lock myself away in a tower and never come out," Kul'tir said. "I have learned to build, learned how languages changed, I have seen nations rise and nations fall, I have brought forth beings that locked themselves away into the light once more, I have harvested the crops and baked them into bread, I have known love over and over and suffered the loss of their death over and over, I have played the kind uncle to children and the spoiling grand father, and I have known war. I have seen every horror that war can throw at one. I have seen the dead and the dying and seen them march once more. I have watched villages I erected razed to the ground and razed other to the ground in return. I have not been idle in my long life. I have lived more lives than anyone has any right too" He answer having walked so many paths in his rule both directly and indirectly.

The black fairy was silent as she watched Kul'tir even after his rambling had ended. She sighed and shook her head slowly. "No," she spoke evenly, "Your one life ended long ago. What you do now, it is not living." She shook her head again. "I fear for any future that continues to tolerate your rule as if it is acceptable. How can you claim to be good and kind, when you cannot even recognize that what you are is an evil to the living?" She stood up.

"QUIET! YOU KNOW NOTHING OF MY LORD!" Lady Azaela spoke up pissed at the the fairy. "IT IS YOUR VIEWS THAT CAUSE NO END TO SUFFERING!" She continued not taking the insult lightly to her lord. "Life is experience. Undeath is just carrying on experience. I am sure what ever monsters you are raising to kill and murder are more your kind. That is why you do not bring your king, you do not respect them for not being the bloodthirsty monsters you want to unleash upon the world!" She continued clearly calling out the dark fairy out for not bringing her king.

"Now now Azaela please do remain calm. I have heard all these before. Some just have such a static boring view of life." Kultir said. "They see life as ending at death. Truly it is sad that such views rarely change. Once they have it they never give it up." He continued speaking from experience. He turned to the dark fairy. "I have seen those that share your opinions. It saddens me that even fairies are unable to move on or change themselves."

"So much for the rule bender and trouble causer. Can't even break away from a common viewpoint," Azeala commented.

"Well that aside I do hope Azaela is wrong about you. That would be dreadfully predictable, the dark fairy creating a kingdom to bring destruction. Truly a waste." He continued joining in a little bit with Azeala. "I am sure you are much more creative than your views, but well as your nation does not want help, then so be it. Help is free to be rejected," He said, his tone saying this conversation is over and he had little respect for the fairy left.

Astarot raised her hand to her mouth as if taken aback by the other fairy's ...strong? To her they sounded more desperate - words. But there was a small smile hidden behind that hand. "Think of me however you wish, I at least do not perverse the division of life and death, or between fairy and king." Now she let her grin be seen by the undead king's fairy.

"Right, you just rule in your king's stead," Azeala suddenly spoke up as the other fairy spoke. "Don't pervert it because you likely just use your king instead of respect them, a massive perversion if you don't bring them forth."

Astarot just laughed at Azeala's tantrum, moving her attention away from the unimportant fairy onto her king. "Needless to say, I reject your offer of aid, oh kind undead king. And I hope that the leaders of living subjects put much thought into what it means to ally themselves with those who do not accept death as final. The value of life is in death. And that is what you have lost, Kul'tir." She sat down and brought her hands together before her again, hidden eyes no longer aimed at the skeleton king or the petulant fairy beside him.

"Really you must keep calm Azaela. You always get excited when someone repeats those same old lines." Kil'tir said not even bothering to speak with the fairy anymore or even acknowledge she had spoken. It was the same old lines that everyone spoke. It seemed the living never changed. Abomination this, perversion that, life is about death; all the exact static and unchanging opinions.

"Sorry my lord," Azeala said. "I to grow tired of the same generic prepackaged ideas," she apologized.

"Good. Hopefully with the personal insults out of the way we can continue this civilly, and at least now I can write off one trading partner or even ally," Kul'tir said, going on as if the fairy had not spoken, dismissing her as stuck in the past unable to change her views. "After all I do have a surplus of food and many fine goods to trade," he continued the offer for aid. In truth likely would be rejected by most as they were already set up.

"One line has been drawn," Astarot whispered almost silently into her hands. "Now to see which ones are willing to cross it." That had gone better than she'd planned. She had Azeala to thank for that. As her veiled eyes swept across the table, there were many fairy and kings looking her way, or at Kul'tir, and few others that seemed unwilling to look at either. The mermaid queen, whom had been watching the whole exchange, now sat with her eyes closed, but her fairy was aiming a questioning glare at Astarot. It said, 'What do you think you're doing?' One did not walk into their first convergence and instantly make an enemy of their seniors. Hot-headed green kings on occasion perhaps, but a fairy should know better. Astarot turned away from the mermaid's fairy with a subtle smile upturning her lilac lips.


64 posts until the end of the arc.
 
TROTOPOLIS
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Cycle.

Nation's Stats
Population: 4
Economy: 7
Military Might: 2
Technological Advancements: 2
Citizen Happiness: 3

The value of life?

Death?

All of this was going beyond Annabelle’s head as she watched the scene between Kul’tir and the black fairy, Astarot. It was unexpected to say the least. She had expected the false pleasantries to last a bit longer. Granted, her interaction with King Herphaeus hadn’t been false in the least. She really appreciate his stalwartness in creating a university open to all races and hoped her brother got to learn a lot. Vethenia’s technology was far superior to that of the people of Trotopolis. More importantly, he would be exposed to various cultures. He would be able to bring home knowledge that could help their people improve their lives.

Annabelle glanced at Herphaeus. Astarot’s warning about allying with people who do not accept in the finality of death clearly applied to him. Wasn’t he morally obligated to defend Kul’tir, given that Vethenia’s unification was made possible largely due to the undead?

Weren’t they allies?

Annabelle’s personal values were probably more aligned with Astarot’s. She didn’t want to live forever and couldn’t ever imagine herself becoming an undead. No matter how scary death was, if it came, it came, and she would probably accept it…probably. Annabelle was only human, after all. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen to Trotopolis if she were to die at the moment. How could she fault Kul'tir for wanting to save his kingdom?

Yet...could one truly value life if one did not fear death?

Annabelle looked to Luxus who shrugged. Clearly he was leaving the foreign relationships to her.

She’d already opened potential business relations with the people of Arran’ak. However, the black fairy was drawing a line. Did helping Arran’ak mean closing business relations with…whatever kingdom Astarot supported? Annabelle didn’t want that. However, she didn’t want to close opportunities with Arran’ak either.

Annabelle was saved from having to say anything when the masked mediator spoke. “Azalea, you get a warning for the use of the word ‘monster’ to address a race chosen by a fellow fairy as that directly violates the first rule in which all nations to be considered equal in this room—thus equally treated with respect. One more and I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Then he went back to silently taking notes. Not a word had been uttered from their ‘mediator’ since he’d gone over the rules at the start of the convergence. It was rather curious. Was his role only to settle disputes? He didn't seem to be stopping any arguments that arose. Why was he even here?

Regardless, Annabelle was already finding herself wanting to leave. Animosity. False pleasantries. It grew tiring after a while...and the Converge of Kings was proving it even worse than the council meetings she had with neighboring island leaders.

“Regardless of any morals regarding life and death, Trotopolis will maintain its open trade policies.”

There. Declaration made to the entire table. Hopefully it’ll allow her nation to remain neutral in whatever conflicts arose.

Karcen Karcen
OverconfidentMagi OverconfidentMagi
Nyq Nyq
MrThe MrThe

Meanwhile...
“It’s been a while, Fade. I’ll admit, I didn’t really expect to see you here.” Luxus popped up beside the oracle while his queen spoke. Minor teleportation magic was silently used as he didn’t want to disturb the meeting of kings. They seemed to having such a fun discussion. “And with a new king at that. When did you choose?”

The leprechaun tipped his hat at the Ratkin. “Salutations and congratulations, by the way.”

The Ratkin had never been represented at the Convergence before, so it wasn’t hard to deduce that Fade had chosen her king fairly recently. How? Why? That still remained a mystery. Fade had never expressed a desire to leave the Fairy Realm before. Yet she did so now...because of a rat. It was too interesting not to comment on.


KamiKahzy KamiKahzy


63 posts left until the end of the arc.
 

  • The Fairy RealmElysian Gardens

    Stonemoor's Prosperity
    Population: 0
    Economy: 0
    Military Might: 0
    Technological Advancements: 0
    Citizen Happiness: 5

    Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Convergence Cycle

    Mentions: Karcen Karcen , Nyq Nyq , QuirkyAngel QuirkyAngel , OverconfidentMagi OverconfidentMagi , MrThe MrThe

    Even though Milkweed had a seat at the large table and was clearly the oddest thing at this gathering he was amazed at just how little attention he was receiving. Sure there was an initial curiosity to him, as he'd expected, but once that was over the other rulers simply went about their business as usual. They barely even gave a passing glance to the tiny figure cloaked in grey sitting in the tiny chair at the grand table. And in all honesty, that suited Milkweed just fine. He's always felt more comfortable in the background, it often meant he wasn't in any immediate danger or being targeted by anyone. This anonymity gave him the perfect opportunity to simply sit and absorb everything that was happening around him.

    Most of it was simple politics. Various rulers trying to increase their wealth, power or influence through various means. The large undead was certainly a head-turner for most, but Milkweed was already aware of the Dead King Kul'Tir's influence. His claims against rogue necromancy were certainly true, as Milkweed had heard some truly horrific tales from the sailors that made port back in Landover. But he also knew that Arran'ak wasn't adverse to hiring out spare 'labor', as he'd also heard tales about undead being used in raids and across battlefields all across Aldelor regardless of nation or creed. It seemed the Dead King was more tolerant of death and destruction as long as it was his own undead committing the act, rather than some rogue mage with delusions of grandeur. A power to be wary of, certainly.

    Then there was Milkweed's direct neighbors to the south. The lands of Vethenia had long been the preferred hunting ground of Shendoran raiders. Their fertile lands, soft villagers and bickering city-states created the perfect atmosphere for them to get in and get out without any fear of retaliation from the ruling powers. But Milkweed had heard rumors that Vethenia had finally been united following a civil war, and the chatter amongst the nobles confirmed those stories. That being the case Milkweed guessed that, assuming the new ruler of Vethenia wasn't a complete wet rag, that the days of easy coastal raids were coming to an end. He wagered there would be about five more years of unrestricted access to the coast before people started to properly recover from the war. Milkweed logged that nugget away for later, it might prove useful. Their ruler also made mention of an 'academy' of sorts, a place of learning for all races. That piqued his interest, as Milkweed was always willing to learn new things. But he doubted he would get the chance to partake in such a place, something in his bones told him he'd be busy for the foreseeable future.

    And just to the west of Vethenia lay the island nation of Trotopolis. Honestly Milkweed had only learned about them through passing stories while partaking in Landover's houses of libation. They were a new nation, so new in fact the sailors often joked you could still smell the pitch on their hull. In years past the islands had been a reasonably safe berth for returning raiders and merchants alike, but the lands simply weren't inhabited enough to warrant anything more than a passing interest from Shendorah's hungry inhabitants. But with their establishment as a nation that was likely to change, and Milkweed wondered if the fledgling state would be up to the task of defending their coasts when the weather warmed and the winds turned. The young queen also seemed to be making doe eyes at the young prince of Candor, no matter how much she denied it. Probably nothing, but if she decided to ally herself with the old kingdom then that would make them a decisively less appealing target for pirates and the like. More useful information to be used when needed.

    There was an assortment of other nations and beings gathered as well. Milkweed gave them passing interest as most weren't even close to his borders, however he did make note of the Jade Empress making the rounds. Her reach had grown substantially over the past decade or so, and Milkweed wondered if it had anything to do with her being chosen during the last... 'Convergence' was the term being used for this event, if he recalled correctly. She seemed a haughty sort, unsurprising given her self-appointed status as a 'living god'. Milkweed could almost taste the bile in his throat at the thought of having to trade words with her. Arrogance had always rubbed his fur the wrong way.

    However there was one being that proved to be an outlier at this gathering. Not because she was... 'dressed' the most excessively, and not even because she was alone and had no obvious ruler accompanying her. It was because Fade had not stopped watching her since the meeting began, and Milkweed had noticed. The fey clad in black water, the one known as 'Astarot', appeared to be the most aloof of all the gathered beings. She was simultaneously invested and disinterested in the surrounding matters of state. In fact her actions had been so specifically roundabout that Milkweed had to suspect she was purposefully acting on some unspoken agenda. Nothing about her seemed accidental, and Milkweed could feel a twinge of fear run down his spine as he wondered what this manipulator was planning behind her ruler's throne. But what confused Milkweed the most was Fade's reaction to her. He had looked up to confirm his suspicions with his new fairy, but Fade simply would not look away from her. And Mlikweed could feel this potent aura of... Sadness? Regret? Some visceral feeling of melancholy was radiating off of Fade as she looked on towards the fairy of dark waters. Milkweed didn't know if he was simply attuned to her enough to feel it, or if she was powerful enough to express so much without saying a word. He was truthfully jealous for a moment, wishing that his own people's silent communication of 'pensing' was half as nuanced as what Fade was producing. But it seemed Fade could feel Milkweed's gaze as well, for she did eventually turn to look her king in the eyes and give him a reassuring smile. And as much as she tried, as much as the feeling of reassurance was being gently washed over him, Milkweed still didn't feel all that convinced. 'Astarot', he mused to himself, looking back one last time at her darkened visage, 'Seems like you're one worth remembering here.'

    Milkweed was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the tiny fey man just blink into being right beside himself and Fade. He was thoroughly convinced that nobody would give him the time of day compared to all these other, more established rulers. But it seemed his strangeness, or more accurately Fade's strangeness, was enough to warrant a direct response. Milkweed only nodded politely to the tiny man in green, not really sure if he should say anything since he wasn't really a ruler of anything at the moment. Meanwhile Fade simply kept her same dainty smile and bowed politely to the new fairy, she too electing not to say anything to him. But Milkweed could feel a sense of greeting and camaraderie emanating from her, once again making him jealous of Fade's latent powers.

    Luxus rolled his eyes, a playful smile on his lips despite his words. "Fiiine. Don't tell me. Oracles! Pfft! Never talk when you want them to." Shaking his head, the Leprechaun looked towards the Ratkin that Fade had chosen. "So how do you like the Convergence of Kings so far? Your first one, right? My Queen is the same." He nodded in Annabelle's direction. Milkweed looked back out at the gathered nobility for a moment to consider his answer, then spoke carefully, "...It's a daunting sight. To be honest, I'm not sure if I can keep up." Before he could even look back Milkweed suddenly felt a gentle hand between his ears. Fade quietly scratched at his fur, which caused Milkweed to instinctively lower his ears in a relaxed, submissive fashion. He felt extremely calmed by Fade's touch, but after a moment he realized just how childish and weak this made him appear. He quickly straightened himself out, and Fade politely withdrew her hand from his fur. But her smile remained the whole time.

    Luxus watched the interaction between the ratkin and Fade with interest. She seemed to have really taken with him. Knowing her, it was likely something she foresaw. Either in the Ratkin himself, or his future. "I'm sure you'll get used to it. Some of these kings aren't as big as they pretend to be." The last part was said in such a low whisper, it was just barely audible to human ears. However, a Ratkin should have an easier time hearing it. Luxus grinned. "I'm Luxus, by the way. Fairy and financial minister of Trotopolis." The leprechaun held out his hand. "Who are you?" Milkweed was naturally wary of strangers, but in this environment he felt a little bit of trust wouldn't do him much harm. He reached out his paw and carefully grasped the fae man's hand, still not surprised that a being as small as Luxus could still dwarf his own tiny paw. "Milkweed. ...Of Landover." 'Landover'? The dangerous town full of pirates and raiders? Had Fade chosen a criminal then? Oh. Well... if it was Fade's choice, it can't turn out bad. Luxus beamed, shaking the Ratkin's paw. "Milkweed of Landover, huh? I look forward to seeing what you will accomplish."

    After a moments pause, the leprechaun added. "If you ever feel you need help getting started on a business venture, feel free to visit me in Trotopolis." And with a polite nod of his head Luxus was gone, turning on his heel and blinking out of existence only to reappear next to his Lady Annabelle. Milkweed watched the green fey for a second, then looked to Fade for her opinion on the matter. She merely looked to Milkweed and gave him that same unassuming smile she always had. Milkweed felt nothing especially noteworthy coming from Fade, so he snorted softly and shrugged his shoulders. He guessed he would have to judge that fairy for himself when the time came.

    The gathering continued as it had for what Milkweed guessed to be an hour. Greetings and pleasantries gave way to politics and matters of state, which gave way to petty banter concerning intimacy, virtue and social standing. Milkweed calculated that he'd heard all that was useful from the surrounding conversation, and so he decided now would be the best time slip away. Without saying a word he quietly left his seat and innocuously walked away from the gathered delegation. He didn't even bother to look back, so sure was he in his skill that he knew only a trained eye would have noticed his leaving the table. Hiding in plain sight was one of his more masterful tricks after all. Milkweed walked calmly into the field of flowers surrounding the Convergence towards the place where he and Fade had entered the Fairy Realm. Fade was following silently behind him, her graceful steps carefully parting every blade and petal so that neither was damaged by her touch.

    Milkweed expected the two of them to stop at some point in the field where Fade would perform her light trick again and they would both be whisked back Shendorah. What Milkweed wasn't expecting was the sights and sounds of the summer meadow to suddenly shift to those of sea salt and crying gulls. The change was so smooth that he didn't even notice it, and Milkweed looked around incredulously to check his surroundings. Just like that he was standing on the docks of Landover, right beside his own Fortuna. Milkweed whipped his head around to look at where he assumed Fade to be slightly hovering above the soaked wood, only to see her faint smile fading away into nothing at the last possible second. But even though he couldn't see her Milkweed could still feel her presence nearby, and looking towards his ship he knew exactly where she was. He carefully crossed the gangplank onto the ship and entered his cabin, gently closing the door behind him.

    And there was Fade, just as he'd felt. She was sitting on the tiny chair next to his desk, which was arguably too small for her yet her delicate frame seemed unconcerned by this. She sat there silently watching Milkweed, unmoving and unblinking behind her silken veil. Milkweed leaned his head against the cabin door and sighed loudly. He brought two claws up to the spot between his brows and scratched, trying desperately to gain some control over his racing thoughts. His brain was bursting with something close to a million questions that he wanted to ask her, but at this exact moment only one seemed the most relevant, and the most important. Milkweed stood back up and looked directly at Fade, and then carefully, calmly asked, "You have a plan?" The fairy's little smile grew just the tiniest bit, and she nodded her head in agreement.

    Milkweed inhaled deeply, then released it in a slow, methodical motion. "Alright," he said as he adjusted the clasp of his cloak to a more comfortable position, "Then there's work to be done."
 
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Vethenia
Day 1, Month 1 of the Year in the 501st Convergence Cycle.

View attachment 527756

Population: 16
Economy: 2.5
Military Might: 9
Technological Advancements: 15
Citizen Happiness: 7
Herphaeus stood in silence as the argument about life and death went on. He would've spoken in favour of Kul'tir, as his nation did play a huge role in Vethenia's unification. Steeling himself for the inevitable hostile response, he took a step forward, and prepared to speak. However, a jab, followed by a disapproving look from Messaline stopped him. Her looks told him everything that he needed to know, that it's probably for the best that he just let the argument play out.

Then, the mediator had spoken against Kul'Tir's fairy. Apparently, she made an inappropriate comment against another ruler, although he didn't see said ruler anywhere nearby. Peculiar, that a fairy would arrive at the convergence without a ruler, and it doesn't seem like it was one of those rulerless fairies that roam the realm. Perhaps said ruler is elsewhere, dealing with other rulers in matters of diplomacy. It also seems like the nation of Trotopolis would really like to stay out of this issue, Herphaeus made a mental note about it, just in case it might prove useful in the future. However, he decided to not ponder further and focus on his own matters instead.

The man stood silent for a moment, waiting for the tensions to pass before he finally approached Kul'Tir, for he had matters to discuss with the undead monarch.

"Lord Kul'Tir, I believe that we have a few matters we have to discuss today, for the joint benefit of our nations."
Karcen Karcen
61 posts until the next Convergence
 
ARRAN'AK

Day 2, Month 1, Year 1, 501st Convergence Cycle
Nation's Stats
Population: 15
Economy: 8
Military Might: 19
Technological Advancements: 12
Citizen Happiness: 8

Kul'tir was glad to have a friendly voice speak up as the others were remaining to the side, Kul'tir was aware there was a line drawn . Those that would believe as the fairy, that undeath was not life and those that would accept that life continued for long as you continued to experience things. Kul'tir found that undeath was an extention of life, a putting off of death and perhaps a complete refusal; but not even the eternal planned to rule forever. Either way it seemed that the first country had decided to in a way declare for him over the sinister fairy. Herphaeus could be counted on as an ally, not only had the undead helped in his countries creation, but the man himself seemed open to other definitions of life. There was a large distance between Arran'ak and Vethenia , something that would need to be fixed by an expansion from coast to cost of his landmass. The various lesser kingdoms, many without a fairy, were no where near the area he would need so little fuss would be put up. With cities on both coasts shipping times could be cut down until his air ships were completed then the reliance on the sea would be lessened.

" Of course my friend" Kul'tir said turning back to a friendly person almost grandfatherly in his warmth " What is the venture you wish to discuss?" He asked.
 
Vethenia
Day 1, Month 1 of the Year in the 501st Convergence Cycle.


Population: 16
Economy: 2.5
Military Might: 9
Technological Advancements: 15
Citizen Happiness: 7
Herphaeus felt a sense of relief upon Kul'Tir's friendly response to his words. He had feared that the heated argument just minutes prior might had negatively affected the ruler of Arran'ak's mood, which would most certainly lead to less desirable outcomes. Fortunately, that seems to not be the case. Reassured, the nominal ruler of all of Vethenia voiced out his requests.

"Ah, yes. Vethenia would like to establish a formal embassy in Arran'ak, as well as hosting an intellectual exchange between our nations. This could only benefit the development of the arts and sciences in both of our lands. What do you say of this proposal, Lord Kul'Tir?"

Herphaeus then stood silent, and waited for a response from his counterpart.
Karcen Karcen
59 posts until the next Convergence
 

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