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Age of Cats (IC)

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Ciacatta looked upon the kneeling masses, their sharpened teeth and colourful markings rather endearing to the First Baked. It was as if the hominids were attempting to be like Felis in their own primitive way, like a dog standing on it's hind legs to please it's master. With an amused purr, Ciacatta spoke to the to the tribal throng. "I am Ciacatta the Third, holy emperor of the Inbread and descendant of the revered Prophet Memeow. And we have indeed transcended the need to hunt, both ourselves and others, our people and lands blessed with bountiful bread...."

He brushed his paw over his bread headdress, now more like a halo, the bread so white it was almost radiant, the light of the sun reflecting off of it and making it shine with utter brilliance. "... Among other things.."

With a wave of his other hand, he beckoned the High Croutons forth, their elaborate headgears and trophies on full display to the natives. Each Felis was unique in their decor, from the kite wearing Benjamin T Vanklin, the famed inventor, his singed whiskers a testament to his dogged pursuit of science to the tome topped Benjamin Bannecurl, who had started his life as a mere Crust Bearer before distinguishing himself with his agricultural almanac. Each and every one of them were exemplary in their fields and training, and to the masses of Mwangi it would undoubtedly show. Standing beside his followers, Ciacatta pointed at their tokens and motioned for the fastidious Felis to bequeath them to the hominids with each of the High Croutons imparting one of their trophies until a lavish pile of foods, trinkets and fabrics lay before the tribals "Take these gifts for your leaders, so they may allow me a chance to parley with these "Cruel Ones"" With a mighty yawn, Ciacatta began to stretch himself "We will wait"

Waving his clan members away to go about their business in the interim, the Holy Emperor set about getting comfortable on the beach, lounging on the sand like some billionaire playboy. However the scent of warm bread made Ciacatta keep one eye open behind his spectacles, delivered fresh from the Worldshard for his tasting. Maybe it was time to break bread with the locals, he mused.

---

Ceiling Cat and Mumblar surveyed all the work going on before them, looking down from high up on the hillside as they pooled their resources together for one more grand push to firmly establish Inbread kind on their Worldshard. "See Mumblar, look how our kin intertwine their work with our pragmatic Pyroclast, working off one another and combining their skills into something greater. The strength of the Earth, the power of the flame, the very essence that bubbles within Inbread kind..."

With a low pitched rumble that bordered on infrasound, Mumblar cleared his throat wanting a chance to speak himself, the low frequency noise snapping Ceiling Cat from his talkative trance, his elongated ears being one of the only things sensitive enough to pick up on the mumbling moggie's subtle speech patterns. With an engaged smile the green garbed cat turned to his compatriot as he spoke "Yes... the tools.... Windmills.... production.... power..... oven..."

"Well said my friend! Like a great oven, our people will make something better than what has come before. Oh the emperor will be most pleased!"

Ceiling Cat
kneaded his hands together in excitement, Mumblar nodding along in agreement as they continued their vigil.

"Nononono... This won't do... Nononono" With the First Baked away, the youngest of the Extants, the tortoise shell she cat Marquis NoNo, had taken it upon herself to prepare the proper welcome for their incoming guests, the Mercatores, with the aid of a small group of ShockingBadHats. Already a room was being prepared within the Parlours of Provision for Tyvandrix, the room made inviting and warm like a fresh loaf of bread, as was the Breaded Cat way. Though some small detail had undoubtedly gone awry, as with her back arched and fur fluffed up, the shell shocked she cat was in a right state, almost unresponsive until the situation was resolved by her cat companions. Whatever that detail might be...

Orders

12 Pyroclasts (of 1 variety), 15 ShockingBadHats and 1 Inbread Exalt (Mumblar the ever-living) try to produce Quality Mundane Tools on a more permanent and renewable basis, the Pyroclast integrating into and enhancing the production process, as the ShockingBadHats work while singing their folksong. Mumblar will oversee the production, Enchanting(?) and helping where possible.

15 ShockingBadHats, 10 Pyroclast ( of (2) 7 and (8) 3 variety) and 1 Inbread Exalt (Ceiling Cat) seek to build Windmills for use in both agriculture and power, the Pyroclast doing the heavy lifting as the ShockingBadHats go to work with quality tools and uttering their song. Ceiling Cat will offer advice and help where needed ( 2 wealth + Quality Mundane Tools)


Ciacatta and 14 High Croutons engage with the locals of Mwangi with fresh bread and gifts.... If possible, High Croutons will study the local area flora/fauna/ resources etc.

Interaction: Rooms are prepared for the coming arrival of the Mercatores Crocodile Crocodile at the Parlours of Provision.
 
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Eliasdagood Eliasdagood :

The Inquisitor barked from within his cage. "HEAR IT FROM THE WYCH-THING HERSELF! THIS IS THE REWARDS MAN HAS REAPED ALLOWING THE DEMON, THE HERETIC, THE UNCLEAN TO SUCKLE AT OUR BREAST. Born of our foolish nurturance... UPLIFTED by the foolish unbeliever in the purity of man! They do not even hide the fact that they rose from us, then -- when the world itself shattered, where were they to stand beside us? In their sky-retreats, leaving this world to perish -- only returning as if it were some curiosity."

"You OFFER to hunt and face the Lycan for us? WE SUBMIT YOU *ARE* THE LYCAN! Are you not just beasts that walk as men?!"

"NAY, WE REJECT YOUR PATHETIC AND INSINCERE OFFERS. YOU ARE OUR CAPTIVES, UNTIL IT IS PROVEN YOU ARE TRULY A BOON TO THE CROWNS OF USTALAV"

With that, the mob descended upon Maya and her envoys.

"TAKE THIS ONE OFFER OF QUARTER, OR DIE HERE ON THE PITCH STAKES OF THE WYCH-FIELD -- YOU, "MAYA" -- IF THAT IS YOUR NAME, WILL BE ALONE SET FREE OUTSIDE THE GATES OF CITY STORN. IF YOU TRULY WISH TO SLAY THE LYCANS, BRING BACK THEIR HEADS AND HIDES OR YOU WILL NEVER SEE YOUR PRECIOUS RETINUE AGAIN. IF WE DO NOT HEAR FROM YOU SOON AFTER YOUR RELEASE, WE WILL BURN THEM."

Decision Point:

A) Agree to their terms -- your task force must stand down and be taken prisoner. Maya, alone or with additional forces/allies -- must strike a telling blow to the lycans in the wilds of Ustalav or her captive allies will be burned at the stake!

B) Stand and fight! -- unable to extract due to foul magics, your forces can stand and fight against incredible odds. This may not be the wisest course of action however!

C) Emit Distress Call -- This will give you and other players time to assemble a rescue team to join this fight and hopefully repel or defeat these forces. The odds are not in favor unless a great and decisive action is made...

Proceed at your warning and peril! Eliasdagood Eliasdagood
 
Option A
Maya takes a deep, slow breath, closing her eyes for a moment. “Very well.” She says quietly. She turns to her troops, mostly looking at the Biomancer. “Stand down. All of you. Don’t be afraid, you all have seen what I am capable of. You will be free soon.”

Then she backs off, letting them all be chained, and herself led outside the city. She runs into the forest, making sure to avoid any scents of large, dangerous beasts. Once she’s out of sight of the city, she begins drafting a letter.

Dear Trade Speaker Tyvandrix,
Greetings. I had hoped that our first few interactions would be of a lighter sort, but I’m afraid my first venture into the material plane has been quite a bad choice on my part. I came here hoping to work diplomacy with the human kingdom here, and instead my forces and I were attacked, insulted, threatened, and finally, my forces were jailed, and I have been sent out into the forest to hunt Lycans alone. Obviously my enemy here is no longer the Lycans.

I would like to request your aid in tearing down this kingdom built on superstitious fear and malice, and setting my people free. I would be more than happy to offer a share of the spoils, to be discussed on your arrival.

I must warn you, however; the kingdom captured my troops and I before our paws could touch the earth. If you do choose to come and aid me, please do be careful not to let them see you coming.

Warm regards,
Maya Akuma, First speaker of the Triaxa.

Crocodile Crocodile
 
Prior to Order 2



Tyrvandrix had been in his throne room regarding correspondence and other matters of the Mercatores as he looked down through the glass floor upon his dominion. The market was active, brining the flow of strange and odd goods through. The Halls of Visitation buzzed with various dignitaries and traders seeking respite and luxury within, all the while some would potentially rack up debts they could never truly afford. This would all happen as the Mercatores warned them about overspending, their limits and their debt.

Honesty was power in the magic of the Mercatores. No soul was never not fully informed of their situation before they fell into it. It was fair, in a dark and cynical fashion, relying upon the natural arrogance of mortal beings to ignore clear and honest information and take a chance. Some listened and the devils watched them more closely as 'reliable' trade partners. Those foolish enough to become so in debt only their soul could pay what was owed could not break the contract spells once they engaged because... they had been told everything. Fine print was for amateurs in the Devil lineage. The Mercatores had made it an art of telling how you would be taken for everything to your face and watching with dark delight as you still did it. They viewed it as a service, culling the weak willed to make use of them as laborers, resources and the potentially some of them might be worthy of becoming Mercatores.

Yet the dispatch before Tyrvandrix was now concerning... and angering. Mortal scum has broken the most ancient of rules that was engraved into the very souls of the Devil Merchants. Hospitality. These mewling animals has dared to disrespect one who had shown favor and welcome to his people. And said party now had sent forth a request for help. He would be remiss to not answer. First he would never abandon those who had reciprocated hospitality. Second, these mortals had BROKEN the ancient expectation. He would make a brutal and clear example of this land and profit from it at the same time once a contract was settled upon. With a gesture one of the glass panes that floated about his chamber slid into view as the images of his Fallen Lords appeared. Gilded Galizir and sculpted Acuthane looking on with curious expressions.

"We march to war. One who honors us has been disrespected in the most unacceptable of fashions. Summon the Troupes. ALL of them. I march for Ustalav. You will remain with all our Chattle to keep order here and enjoy yourselves," Tyrvandrix commanded grimly as he rose. The pair of images bowed and faded as the glass pane floated back up to orbit with others around the chamber that was his throne room. The powerful devil stood and strode forward as glass shifted and flowed, forming stares that allowed him to descend. Already glass bells were chiming through the Crossroads, summoning the entirety of the Mercatores together. They would march to war under contract and lay low the unworthy.

As he descends, he gestures as another glass panel with parchment and glass quill and inkwell arrives. He dictates his words as the quill scribbles away before finally gesturing. The message is sealed in a cylinder and dispatched immediately while the devils gathered in their full might. This land in Ustalav would pay a deep price for its actions.

Message Sent
First Speaker Maya Akuma,

My rage knows no bounds for what has been done to your people who have shown us the most ancient of respects. We march. Terms to be agreed upon when we arrive. These men will become a lesson like in the holy texts of old why one should always extend a hand of friendship first.

We shall meet in person soon.

Tyrvandrix

Trade Speak of the Mercatores.


Respone Force
-Tyvandrix
-5 Neverborn
-20 Meractores

Five Mercatores Troupes, kitted out fully for war and Chattle binding.
Due to high detection abilities, Mercatores host is hard dropping in to avoid capture to join with Maya Akuma to set terms for war and rescue.

Beckoncall Beckoncall
Eliasdagood Eliasdagood
 
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Pat Pat :

The Great "NewAncient" Market at Mosaic was built, and quickly -- with the wealth involved the entire central economy of Allod was kidnapped for the duration of construction, and almost all clans had folk of some sort in on the deals, the construction, the design, and the execution. The task force was great, and it was competent and diverse. If the Felis were concerned that Devils would muscle out Felis markets in their avarice -- such dreams were shattered on impact with the cold reality of Felis scale and diversity.

However, it was not a market of Devils, and was neither meant to be nor could be. They could not attract genies, or ancient dustmen, or elementals to the great market, though it traded and stocked in all sorts of goods both raw materials and finished goods. (Perk for everyone: Felis using the Mosaic Marketplatz gain +1 wealth for construction when they spend 2+ wealth of thier own)
The Devil market still cornered many magical goods and the strange (and oft cursed) wares of the crossroads, but it was an economic powerhouse.

So much so it caused nervousness in the courts of those who would maintain the status quo... who's existing markets rapidly, in one event after the other, in progressively grander fashion, rendered their markets old and obsolete.

Pat Pat -- the construction of the market upsets the status quo and by extension the grand court of the Aslani Matriarch, The court of the Spectral, and by extension of those the many knight-houses of the Enaitay. Relations until rectified may be strained and there may be intrigue as a result of this. The problem will not and cannot be solved with the market, but diplomacy may help.

Oilpaw is visited at a vulnerable moment (at the changing of his guard) by a Curv Agent -- the agent slides a wax-sealed scroll with a symbol of all the shards converging with the allod. It reads:

"You have done much to bring the Felis together, while we fear individual tyrants and new reckless powers with the wave coming of the worldshards -- work to unite the worldshard clans, and eventually the worldshards may be merged into a new Allod. This is just one of the goals the Curv seek -- and you must decide if you are with us or against us. Write on the back of this paper and burn it, and we shall receive your reply. If you are with us, you can expect we will be preoccupied with whomever you consider your rivals. Should you ignore or oppose us, I promise there are things for sale in the Bazaar Bizarre that will complicate the safety and peace of the new and vaunted Mosaic Market...

Confederacy of Felis clans makes Mosaic Market truly great -- eclipsing the size and scale of the Bizarre Baazar (so swiftly!)

Everyone is encouraged to read the new mechanics relating to the Mosaic Market: (IMPORTANT!)

Market has a maximum fund of (10 wealth) -- it is presently at 10 wealth max because of the big splash it made and initial profits. Each PLAYER contributing to the market can LEVERAGE the market as an order to invest or withdraw up to 3 wealth at a time. Larger investments can lead to monopolies or trade perks, withdrawing weakens the market but the funds become liquid to be used by the leveraging player. NOBODY needs permission to leverage the market, as wealth is funneled out through their vendors and channels.

Market needs at least 5 wealth to be considered healthy, and 8 wealth to be considered booming. That said, people may wish to withdraw their owed wealth at any time.

_________________________________________

"Nectar" is successfully produced and marketed through mosaic channels. Nectar raises morale of anyone purchasing units of it -- 2 wealth of Nectar becomes 3 points of Morale to be used later. It is considered the "flagship finished good" from the broken world, the first product to be marketed from the wild ashes of Avecury after the apocalypse. The Felis go wild for it.

_________________________________________


Diplomatic Matters: (Pa'anni and Felis)

From the Aslani Matriarch :

"It is cute to think how quickly you feel you can cast off the old order and make a new economy centered around YOU, oilpaw. We had hoped that we could work together and be allies going forward, but you know as well as I a war can be waged without firing a shot -- and your bold move has sent many of our interests scattering for cover. The Spectral will say nothing on the matter, but believe me they are neither impressed, and the Enaitay are put in delicate and precarious positions with the movement of money and commerce from the Allod. Expect to eat Crow, make good, or make enemies, Oilpaw -- there are clans greater than yours, and we make our own moves."

_______________________________________


From The folk of Pa'anni:

Satyrs:

The Silverwood Bows enchanted by Ascilia were woven with fate magic, there was much that the seer could see, but few spells she could make standing effects. The bows were enchanted to know when a missed shot would cost the life of the user -- and such shots would be guided by magic to change this thread of fate. The Satyrs used the Bow as a backscratcher, while the Centaurs treasured it for what it was. The Tauren rejected the gift -- citing that bows were for centaurs and small folk, and that the presents were insensitive to Tauren norms and culture... they warred with the centaurs, and saw this as a clear selection of one side over theirs.

"Prepare for harsh dealings with the Tauren if you aid the centaurs or violate Tauren Territory, which in ancient times was all of this province. We expect it is time for you to leave now, rather than upset the unsteady peace"

The Centaurs adored the Bow, and quickly offered to open their markets with Oilpaw, (something that would be considered an act of war by the Tauren)

The Satyrs loved their backscratcher -- and gave plenty of horns and Tubas to Oilpaw's clan for fabrication and improvement.

It seemed business was booming -- but new and old rivals threatened to set back the Oilpaws further than they had managed to leap forward. How would they deal with the Pa'aani clans? The Curve? The Aslani and their allies? Much to think about....

__________________________

Orders were given to leave headfruit alone but to try and selectively breed it. These orders are mutually exclusive. What do? Pat Pat
 
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Myocardial Infarction Myocardial Infarction :

1. Investment in the Mosaic Market of the Oilpaws was a smashing success, relegating the Bizarre Bazaar of the Demons back to the role of an exotic black-market. Powerful clans on the Allod had their interested disrupted by this new market, but the Illustrada drew little flak themselves. they were as good at sidestepping a political morass as they would an incoming blow. The market was up and running and many Illustrada wondered if they should leverage their share of the market to take back their investment plus interest quickly, perhaps before others did (Illustrada have pressure to leverage market to gain 3 wealth or lose 1 morale) -- This might destabilize the great market if others chose to leverage as they did, but it was in their nature to maintain positive relationships but also put to rest obligations to them from other clans. If the Illustrada take the morale hit this could lead to greater influence (cutting both ways) with the clan depending on, and profiting from the market -- but this had yet to be seen how it would play out...

2. The use of diplomacy to quell concerns and court interest in the new market with the clans of Allod could not have come at a better time.

The Aslani had been offended, and the Spectral Clan had their own reasons for minding a great shift in commerce. Still other clans standed to lose unless they acted quickly and were welcomed... which the Illustrada were more than willing to do by placing Allod interests and cashflow within their sphere of control. Perk -- Illustrada gain perk "Hand on a Friend's Purse" -- and gain +1 wealth every time they spend or gain 2 or more wealth as a result of established relationships and controls on the new market. This also has the pleasant side effect of reducing ensuing aggression from Allod interests and the general acceptance of the new worldshard market.

3. Catcat Jump-troops and their superiors monitored the southern mountain range, and found the base of it full of ancient battlefields where the Lepus seemed to have suffered great losses keeping the lowland territories their own. High in the cliffs, the reason why -- Cave Trolls -- an unguessable number of them lived, and blocked passage over the mountains. Who knew how many lived below the ground but they were seen often enough hurling boulders at flying cancats and generally behaving aggressive from the ground. Travel south through these mountains would not be easy or cheap in all liklihood without decisive victories over the Cave Trolls -- the battlefields showed that sufficient resistance could keep them out of a region... perhaps a bold enough lesson in war could teach them to make a hole or pass for their clan.

The Lepus said the conflicts with the Trolls by their people were long ago -- "Tree old" they described it as being... when the Lepus were mightier and were an agrarian society and not tribes of hunter gatherers. They said the only way past the mountains was to go through the Verdance -- and around the mountain range. The Hunter Lepus would not enter the Verdance, and stressed that Felis should neither go as well, despite the invitations to gather new foods there by the gatherer Lepus. "The land gives back more than it takes" -- the gatherer Lepus said solemnly. "The more that come the luckier you are likely to be!" -- the last part stuck in the gatherer Lepus' throat... but he smiled it away.
 
Crocodile Crocodile : (with special decision point for everyone)

1. The Grand tour was executed without complexity or commotion. First travelling The Allod and then visiting whatever world shards would invite them. It was a performance every bit that it was a market -- wonders and freaks on display for effect, sale, and the pleasure and awe of the masses. The clans of the Allod adored the spectacle, but it was in variation that the Allod clans partook and spent of their coin. The real money was to be made on the worldshards, where there was enough strange needful things on offer for the Devils as there were for the Shard Clans.

GRAND TOUR PROFIT MECHANICS:

Crocodile Crocodile -- do your best to court every other player to partake in your Grand Tour, to let them in and show their wares. Each player that welcomes the Mercatores will gain 1 Diplomacy Point and 1 Wealth, no strings attached. After you are done courting players, dice will determine involvement of Allod Clans and you will receive resources/rewards commensurate with your success/participation, and the success or failure of the Great Tour will be related in post.

2. The Neverborn Haxos and Posarnox entered the vortexes above the prime material plane not caring much for where it would take them. They were wanderers. A glimmer of bloodlust and debauchery drew their eyes to Aten... A place of great ritual killing -- it stank of it. The mercatores followed the energies like a scent and falling full from the sky landed in ATEN, high atop a great stepped pyramid surrounded by a sprawling city.

Atop the high pyramid was a temple of blood sacrafice. Slaves and Criminals were poked and prodded up winding staircases where they collapsed exhausted at the top... Once there, two cults would play a vicious sport which involved beating the captives and throwing them through nets, as if they were living balls or trophies, the sacred game deciding which cult would take the captive... magically over the entire city the sport was displayed in the sky, the entire community in the throes of passion and revelry at each score, each cruelty, each kill.

One Cult was the Cult of "The Watcher" -- a Lich that looked more like a pile of robes with glowing fangs and eyes than anymore a mage or man. When the Watcher's cult scored, the Watcher would take the captive, dead or alive, and with a cocked eye turn them to stone, draining their essence and throwing the statue back down the pyramid, the rubble and dust from the avalanches of the dead would wash over the approaching supplicants dying them grey with ash until it fell in winds on the exhalted populace closest below the structure.

One Cult was the Cult of "Soulblighter" -- another Lich that looked, quite surprisingly, as a young man, (were the youth ritually flayed of his face and his heart a black, beating pit where an organ used to be. When Soulblighter took his due, the captive was strangled and wrung violently for every drop of mortal energy before it was cut into pieces and send gliding down sleds to the base of the pyramid where HIS most devoted ritually ate them.

The Mercatores landed in the middle of the sport arena, ending the spectacle while at the same time causing an eclipse of the sun, breaking the magical broadcast in the sky and covering the city in darkness.

The Liches sneered... but everyone was thinking the same thing when the task forces chattel landed upon the stone diases of the temple. There was still sport to be had -- Would the Mercatores Fight viciously in a sport of the lich-cults own devising to see if they could win chattel at the risk of their own?

"PLAY, Devils... for it is the end times and there are no gods but they that thirst like us." The Watcher croaked.

Soulblighter merely crossed his arms and wrapped his hands in cloth, preparing personally to battle the demons if they would participate.

"Sit to the side and wait for the sport to end and we shall hear why you have come, but so much better to bring your chattle to feed the goal-posts, and may we all drink deep of the essence of slaves."

Decision Point: will the taskforce...

A) Join the bloodgames: They were fewer in number than the cultists but more powerful in every way. There could be a profit in souls to be made here, but it was a game that was wholly unknown to them... they could lose their chattle if they were reckless or unlucky!

B) Abstain, gaining the ire of the Lich-Lords, but instead seeking audience with them after the games to learn more about the Nation of Aten, it's provinces, and what there might be to gain here for the Mercatores...


3. The Fallen Lords followed their leaders command and held a sport of their own at the crossroads -- None more enthusiastic about their own blood-games as the Mercatores themselves.

Games of Ascention Mechanics:

Crocodile Crocodile is by default participating, and any other players interested in joining the event. +1 morale is free for the taking of anyone attending the games. After it is determined who is/was in attendance, the games will be processed and results posting, with one or more participants winning wealth or prizes. Depending on the outcome, The Mercatores may gain Denarius coins and/or Uplifted units, the better attended the spectacle, the greater rewards and products are likely to be.
 
"But, Sabio", sputtered Apprendido as he tried to keep pace with his mentor. "Our people never agreed to this! How will we prosper? They don't understand-"

Just then, Sabio whirled on Apprendido, cowing the younger man with but a look.

"They don't need to understand! Nor do I expect them to. You shouldn't either, for that matter."

Sabio stared Apprendido down, waiting to see if his apprentice might voice some other concerns. The younger man was silent, however, his eyes downcast.

"The people would see us grow fat and complacent over any odd and end we encountered on our travels. That is not the way of the Illustrada. We are travelers, Apprendido, and one cannot travel with the riches of the world on one's back."

Sabio approached the younger man, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Send word to Guerrero and Peligroso. I have need of them here. Then find Anciana, and return with her to me. We must discuss what happens next."

Without another word, Apprendido left to carry out his tasks.

The Illustrada will not rely on the wealth of the market. (-1 MORALE)

1. Peligroso is to work on a means of approaching the Cave Troll problem, with the stated goal of this project being a means by which a task force of 12 Cancats might explore the mountains while keeping the Cave Trolls at bay.

2. Sabio, Guerrero, and Anciana will groom Apprendido, with the intention of further involving him in the leadership of the Illustrada.

3. The remaining Illustrada will reap the rewards of the Verdance. 100 Pilgrims will harvest. 26 Cancats will maintain guard, with the explicit mandate that potential threats might arise from either the Lepus or the Verdance itself. 6 Waymavin will oversee the project. 8 Pilgrims will taste test the harvest, overseen by 1 Waymavin and 2 Cancats.
 
Beckoncall Beckoncall
Decision Point
Choice B and 1 Diplomacy spent if possible to mitigate the anger.
Haxos and Posarnox regard the grim games and the lich-lords involved. They conferred with one another before Haxos steps forth as spokesman.

"You offer is intriguing, great lords. But Meracatores never play a game they don't know all the rules. We will step aside and watch you battle for your glories so that we might speak with you after. At that point we are open to the discussion of what is to be done with that which is ours in absolute soul bond."

The forces of devils moves aside to enjoy the great battle but also put up their defenses to avoid being attacked. They were not fools and the egos of lich-kin were not underestimated.
 
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Heyitsjiwon Heyitsjiwon :

Brightstar signed off on a vellum scroll with his inked paw-print sending the harvested stone materials to the Mosaic market, and prepared to seek out this "Demon" -- this "Guardian Spirit" that was loose on his Worldshard. the Ministry of Executive Operations and Warfare (aka. MEOW) had learned that the manifestation of the demon was actually the result of sabotage by the Curve -- That a Curve agent was very high or at least once removed from the Exelec leadership, and that stability in the organization has recently been upset -- the fractured anarchistic movement was fighting an internal war to become more organized and singularly goaled. The Reclined wondered that if the disorganized cult had the power to summon a demon -- in time if left alone what could the Curve managed after they got done with their internal strife.

Brightstar and his host went forward to commune with this Demon... and found it surprisingly to be a sympathetic creature, even tragic. Without the Hells, many demons were cast to the winds, even formless unless contracted to serve some purpose. This one was carefully contracted to protect the interior of the worldshard -- to keep the Exelec out if necessary -- but it had sympathies for the Pashites and with some diplomacy and careful interaction, The Reclined established an understanding with it and instead gained the trust and service of the Guardian Spirit. It's contract had space to embrace the Exelec as part of it's purview to protect, and the alternative to doing it's given charge the alternative was permanent disincorporation -- for there were no hells with which to return. Thus, the Guardian Spirit was remade anew into a symbol of the Pashites, and primal protector of the motes of the worldshard...

Meanwhile, in Pythium, Ka'tuum the Dragonewt surveyed the ruins and crumbling temples of the once great city. He called in Draconic across the sprawling wreckage from a position of height -- and none replied. "They have forgotten the tongues of their ancestors, or they hold them still." The dragonewt hissed.

The simple serpents mostly gave Ka'tuum a wide berth, but particularly large specimens simply showed their odd respect and remained calm. The rest of the taskforce wondered how dangerous this place would be to wander without their agent guide and envoy to the serpents... and their worries were well placed.

In the center of the city, in a massive forum built of cracked marble and white crystal, the Pythians, or at least them that would show themselves, Awaited the Felis and their agent...

They rode on great Hydras, red of scale with seven, eight or nine heads. They wore ancient armors pitted with the ravages of time. Men who once served a great earth serpent until it was slain in the rise of the pretenders. Worshippers of a dead god, they fed their beasts to cull the wild snakes and gave unto the Hydras their feeble and their dead as a rite of religious bonding between warriors and riders.

"Long ago, our grandfathers prayed and called for the dragonewts to return before our civilization fell, and our fathers prayed and called to them still to prevent what was ours from crumbling into irredeemable decay. We, the sons -- waited no longer for the dragonewts, yet here you are. You're too late for a parade, and too late for some welcome of reverence. For now, we the bravest warriors CONFRONT the dragonewt and curse them for abandoning their charges. Too long have you waited to be greeted as saviors. We fight the growing undead menace that is Scelaria and the traditionalist fools of Arcosephale. If you are not here to assist us in these wars -- you'd better go."

The great brute mounted on the largest Hydra had soft eyes. However, his words were resolute and pained in their dismissal.

The cloakleys and Spectra Auxillaries kept their positions in the rear, and wondered whether Ka'tuum would take them hence from this place, or had something further to say...
 
Heyitsjiwon Heyitsjiwon :

Given the information of the recent Enaitay attempt at creating a worldshard and of the Curve, a task force is assembled to study the magics of these magically manifested lands in an attempt to learn how they can be made, merged and manipulated as they orbit around the gravity of the Allod...

And the news was striking. The Exelec Astronomer learned two things:

1) The Allod was exercising more than just a distinct static pull on all the worldshards... there was a source of some kind, a signal somewhere on Allod, that was sending very distinct pulses to all worldshards to bring them into conjunction... if not collision. This object would have to identified and made sure it was being controlled by the right minds, and for the right purposes. The Curve were likely suspects to this.

2) The orbit of the worldshards as they existed was a product of happenstance, not organization or the work of eons of spacial travel -- the orbits themselves were dangerous. There was no predicting when a worldshard might pass dangerously close to another, or collide -- but it was definitely a question of when. The only Shard that seemed safe in it's orbit was The Crossroads Crocodile Crocodile -- which seemed to move in an orbit perpendicular to the rest of the shards, spinning less like a planet and more like a maverick moon over and under as opposed to around the Allod...
 
Heterological Heterological :

Ossein Diplomacy -- the dance of Bones...

The Tsar had spoken that this territory was inviolate -- the greatest gresh they could find was caught and killed, and mounted on a banner pole to make statement they were serious about having their territory respected. The Myrdrall of Gower got the message loud and clear... and replied with bones as well in kind...

myrdrall skulls.png

The Tabaxi Hireate noticed it first -- in a sudden clearing carved out of the woods silently in the night. Between two great trees was a giant CAIRN of skulls -- some Gresh, mostly human, and many of sorts the Felis did not recognize. Atop the gruesome wonder was another standard -- clearly of human design, perhaps the last group of foes who made a similar proclamation as the Tsar... The Flayed skin of some rotting king or general hung from that standard as if to say. "We got your message. Move out -- move out, or this will happen..."

The Hirate and Apprenti were terrified at the news, and refused to work in the territory. Besides that, the Apparatchik needed only to flex their pointers and tongues to get the rest of the Clan in line...

A great Plantation was made in the shadow of the giant pile of skulls, a neat fence separating the cultivated land from the forest. The Tsar's workers were more scared of their leader than they were of the Myrdrall...

The gresh repellant plants were brought back to momoru for greater study, and learned that the musk from the plant that repelled the Gresh was actually a great and valuable base element for exotic Perfume -- This lead to it being cultivated almost as much as the other food and cashcrops for it promised it's own trade good if utilized, and cultivating it in such great quantities was harsh on the mineral content of the land alloted to it, but it did MORE than repel the Gresh -- it kept them well at bay.

Besides the Gresh repellant perfume bulbs, Domestic foods that were hard to grow on the long worked soil of Allod jumped up in abundance in the rich dirt of Province Prax. Delicacy and staple crops both sprung up in record time, enriching the Clan and filling their granaries... (+1 wealth +2 morale)

But choices needed to be made -- It was rapidly learned that in Prax, plants competed with one another through a variety of factors not existent on the Allod -- Favoritism of Insects, selective aggression of weeds, and more mysterious phenomenon sabotaged the diversification of crops and conspired to force homogeneity -- The Clan would have to choose:

(Decision point)

A) Allod Staples -- which would produce great amounts of food, but little long term in the way of profit.
B) Allod Delicacies -- lower yield would make the farms less useful for keeping the masses fed, but would generate income.
C) Praxian Tubers -- Giant roots that were edible when repeatedly boiled... further research would be needed to discover if they had long term potential or desirability.
D) Praxian Milkfruits -- High in calcium and other minerals, these sappy pods were low in caloric content but high otherwise in nutritive value... they promised healthier generations of Felis if cultivated, and could be a valuable cash crop...


Meanwhile, Back on the Allod, Mining and assaying of land around crimson crystals began in force.

Renewable sources of Iron could freely be mined, as well as lattices of crimsoncryst that had clear ornamental but more elusive industrial applications possible for it. Experimentation would need to be done. In addition to the iron and crystal itself a small deposit of KATANA GOLD -- so named because it was precious and lustrous as gold but could be alloyed to be harder than steel -- was mined in total and brought to the Tsar 1 unit of Katana Gold could be used to make heavy equipment for 10 units or light equipment for 20, or one splendourous suit for the Tsar himself or his chosen champion. If not worked into weapons and armor, the Katana gold could aesthetically enhance a building project as well, making it a symbol of culture and an object of tourism.

( Heterological Heterological -- you will not run out of iron or Crymsoncryst for the forseeable future -- you may attempt to trade it or use it in your endeavors)
 
Crocodile Crocodile Eliasdagood Eliasdagood



Maya Akuma watched the sky open... the soft envelope of the atmosphere pierced by a black comet falling at breakneck speed even as it seemed to roll lazily on it's axis.

Help had Arrived. Maya headed for the walls of Ustalav once more, not towards the gate, but towards the Massive, Gaping, smoking and burning breach in the wall where the Meteor Fell. The sound of screaming was heard for miles -- fires jumped all around the crash site... but they were not fires...

They were the Mercatores. The comet was made of devils. Tyrvandrix stood in the center of the impact site, and folded his arms in contempt. With a single glare a shockwave spread from the point of impact dropping all who ran to help on their knees and backs, and flattened the first-responding army of Ustalav so that the neverborn could wipe them out, scoop handfuls of men like sand and savor their blood like the oil of olives.

The Mercatores continued to burn -- leaping and flying in constellations of doom around their neverborn commanders -- setting the church aflame. The orphanage aflame. The hospital aflame... and from those flames the fire leaped on it's own to give a crackling music to the lamentations of all the buildings betwixt them.

You see, such an ill display of hospitality was akin to a greeting to Devils... an empowerment, a dare to act in kind... and so, the people of Ustalav looked to the skies and truly knew the gods were dead, for no prayer was answered but with horror and lamentation.

In the chaos, in the screaming, in the weeping and cursing Maya picked her way through the inferno quickly, through the shattered gates of the Ustalavi castle of the city of Gottendam, and hurriedly ran past the chaos and horror to the dungeons where she found her people... Prisoners for a day, but slaves Never a moment.

It was in the shadow of the escape that Maya and her clan and the host of Tyrvandrix -- the devils of the crossroads -- would need to make a decision...

1) Glut in the slaughter: Even as the main Ustalavi forces gained their balance and began to form up, the high inquisitors of Gottendam, with armor and weapons of cold iron, prepared to defend their beleaguered people and burning districts. They were a throng of unguessable number, but perhaps managable in the chaos, fighting from the flames the Mercatores made themselves at home in. To PILLAGE, to REND AND WRECK -- to pit the best they offered against the Ustalavi ingrates and bring them low -- perhaps taking telling losses in the attempt...

2) Flee tidily in the wake of the carnage: Maya had all she asked for -- if the Mercatores even blinked, the forces of Gottendam would quickly and tidily sweep away their fires with relic holy magics... but not before all had made their swift escape.

High Inquisitor Vohlkrendar INVITED Tyrvandrix to face his forces. However Tyrvandrix was not a Devil who simply waltzed into such a proposal without suspecting a trap...
Still, Tyrvandrix could smell the ego and haughtiness of his foe and the wild part of him wanted to relish his ichor personally... but did such desires override the desire to be prudent, leave with their lesson taught and their true spoils -- The Triaxa, already in hand.

Mayas eyes narrowed. If the vanguard of these curs could be slain perhaps the whole city would fall, but her retainers pulled at her robes and cape to leave, and spare their eyes the horrors wrought to save them and the growing force coming to bear to cut short their escape...
 
Beckoncall Beckoncall Eliasdagood Eliasdagood

Tyrvandrix watches the work of his kin and smiles darkly as he savors the punishment worked upon these arrogant men. He sighs as he watches the ebb and flow but is delighted to see that the Triaxa have been freed and brought back to their leader. He looks towards her as he consider the taunting of the High Inquisitor and sighs. He desired to drink deeply of that fool and even see if he would break and possibly make a fine devil....

"So then, your people are liberated. I would stay to break this place but I fear they are ready to fight my kin and I do not wish to risk losses. Unless you so desire to commit your own force to a mutual purge, we should withdraw. Perhaps see what we can do to spite such arrogant, mewling men for their actions," Tyrvandrix offers and he looks on with respect towards Maya as he addresses her.
 
Myocardial Infarction Myocardial Infarction :

Peligroso crossed his arms as he watched the groups of trolls through a long-range lens. His retainers had a great 120mm Mortar with them, loading it with all manner of ordinance -- Traces of various magics, Extremes of temperature and different elements and agents of destruction. He was Pitiless, targeting only those who were out in the open to get the best observable data for bombarding the trolls long distance -- to learn their weaknesses. As trolls were mythically storied, they did indeed have preternatural healing powers and conventional armaments were rapidly dismissed -- normal injuries were regenerated quickly. A scribe stood next to Peligroso and took dictation on test results of the various shellings -- whether they be Trolls that came out to investigate the mysterious indirect fire that fell upon them from the sky, or hapless trolls travelling in the open. Various results were recorded:

"Magic/Fire/Lightning: All magic effective to some extent... Trolls cannot regenerate from astral damage or damage from magical or even mundane fire.
Cold: Slows trolls, but does little to actually harm them. Suggests cold-blooded metabolism despite living high in the mountains. It is suspected these trolls would be much faster, but more uncomfortable at higher temperatures at lower elevations. Interesting.
Acid: Very effective -- painful and retards regeneration if not stopping it completely. Exploration of military chemical applications or acid-treated weapons is promising.
Most other elements or attack types not listed are wholly ineffective, including most if not all regular weapons and ordinance.

Worth noting that the Trolls are too stupid, or too primitive, to determine where mortar fire might be coming from. At least for now."

Meanwhile, The Hospitalers groomed Apprendido in the ways of leadership of the Illustrada. His education was voracious, but wanting so far in it's execution. Apprendido was brilliant, but was clearly not synthesizing his lessons and many of his test scenarios continued to stump him even after the required time to react in-field had passed. His aggregated knowledge was telling, but left much to be desired in execution. The application of resources or a formal school would likely be needed to elevate his status -- though there was one capacity he served as unerringly and that was as a diplomat/herald... knowing encyclopedically the known cultures of the Felis and having an instinct for those that were unknown. Promising.

The remaining Illustrada as ordered reaped the fecundity of Verdance. Great, juicy root-vegetables and honeycombed melons grew invitingly in great clutches, meaty mushrooms formed rings in wet fields of fast-growing grass, the earth always strangely seeming recently tilled. The Grazer Lepus were happy to see so many Felis come to the Verdance with them, several of them happily but cryptically speaking of "luck is better when more travel to the verdance" -- food was easy and plentiful and easy to come by in the Verdance... and produce tested by the Pilgrims and observers only spoke positive of it, nutritious and tasty. It was a mystery why the Hunting Lepus would travel so far and suffer so much for their meals working elsewhere...

...Until the ambush of the Ur-Quan. A waymavin, 5 catcats and 10 pilgrims were suddenly sucked into an underground lair of freshing tilled soil... These huge things cultivated and farmed the soil of verdance and in return the Gathering Lepus accepted some casualties in return for an easy life... the "Luck" they spoke of was the fact that the more people gathered in verdance -- the less likely the individual was to be captured and consumed.

The Felis Felt betrayed that this cost for ease was hidden from them... but the arrangement was made clear when the Ur-Quan Announced itself.

"NO. FREE. LUNCH. YOU ARE NOW PREY OF THE UR-QUAN -- MAKE WHATEVER PREPARATIONS FOR DEATH THAT ARE NECCISARY FOR YOUR SPECIES, THIS IS A COURTESY BEFORE YOU WILL BE CONSUMED."

It was up to this small group of Felis to navigate the horror they were presented with... scores of feet below ground, partially webbed in a mucus-coated chamber, the giant maw of the unseen worm -- the ur-quan -- slowly inhaling them onward towards their doom...

Could it be reasoned with? Could it be escaped?! The Felis would need to think quickly...
 
Beckoncall Beckoncall Crocodile Crocodile
Maya gazes into the flames with grim satisfaction, even as the flying ash stains patches of her black fur white and grey. Oh, she wants more… she wants to teach them what it means to insult her. But she looks back, seeing her forces, her people, terrified of even this. They’re not like her. The carnage is a horror to them. Her amber eyes soften a bit, and she looks to Tyrvandrix.

“Agreed. It will regrettably give them time to prepare for our next move, but my forces lack the morale to continue. We should retreat, work on a proper contract, and strategize.”
 
Beckoncall Beckoncall Eliasdagood Eliasdagood

"Then let us depart and leave this scum to feel their humiliation. My kin have gathered some payment of flesh from these prideful fools." Tyrvandrix bellows forth orders in Infernal to begin an controlled, orderly withdrawal if only to spitefully slow the firefighting of the men of this city. They were leaving curses here and there, easily cleaned... but distracting and dangerous if left to fester. No salting of the earth would stick here but that wasn't the point. It was about delaying and letting more burn, forcing them to use more of that holy power they seemed to manage to hold onto even without a godly patron.

"Let us hope we can encourage the Lycans into some action and use this lovely hole we created," Tyrvandrix mused as he and his devils escorted the Triaxa from this place.
 


The stale air tickled the nose of Ka'tuum as his tongue flicked out to hydrate his nostrils. Slowly blinking in silence after the Hydra-Rider ceased speaking. He allowed the silence to stretch uncomfortably as he simply continued to occasionally flick his tongue to wet his nose. Ka'tuum then looked around the arena. He approached a comfortable looking block of stone and sat on it with his back stretched out and his shoulders spread. Yet, he did not speak as he looked at the Hydra-rider expectantly. The silence grew longer before Ka'tuum seemed to gently hiccup, though to the Exelec they knew that this was how he chuckled. The Felis looked at each other in confusion as Ka'tuum gently chuckled to himself at something that amused only him and him alone. It was only then that he spoke to the Felis "Summon Lord BrightStar, I believe he will want to be present in these diplomatic affairs along with his political advisors. His amulet may be of interest and summon some... respect from these young welps who stray from their father's traditions." Ka'tuum's neck then flipped back towards the Hydra-Riders and spoke "Your fathers prayed for our arrival, and yet you do not offer me your name? Brave you must be to be so faithless. Speak, child... you stand before Ka'tuum, spawn and kin of the Dragon Lords and their divine will, Agent of the Sun-Touched. We have arrived to bring peace to you. What plagues you and your people? More importantly... what is this war that you speak of?"

---



With the Guardian Spirit now working to protect the Exelec and Pasha's faithful, the Exelec began to organize a proper mission to explore and survey the newly created lands. It seemed like the Curve had contracted with the demon to try and hinder the Exelec's plans to explore the lands for some reason. This in itself was concerning as it revealed numerous things. First, they exhibited a certain capability in magic not only in summoning a demon, but also in the ability to summon the demon IN a worldshard that they had not entered. It became increasingly clear to BrightStar that the Curve's magical abilities in regards to worldshards were substantial. The Curve, regardless of their ideology, deserved a lot more interest and attention from the Exelec. However, for now, the Exelec had to explore the rest of their worldshard. It was possible that there were more tricks or secrets hidden in the worldshard that they were unaware of, something that would be unacceptable if the Exelec were to call this their home.

Thus, a large Battiel of Pashite Motes was assembled to provide a bulk of the labor, with the guidance of numerous experts AND of the Guardian Spirit. It was a festive atmosphere as the Motes were convinced that these good fortunes and new friends were divine acts of Pasha. There was a sense of excitement and eagerness as the Motes walked around with a jump in their step while StarSeer began to scry the region with the aid of the zealous Motes and their abilities in Astral magic. The Guardian Spirit seemed to know the woods rather intimately as well as it served as a guide to the area. Thus, in near parade like fashion, the expedition was launched to explore the majesties of the WorldShard.

---

In the Mozaic Marketplatz, several Reclined met in a backroom of a small store that was owned through the Exelec investments in the market. There they discussed matters of utmost importance to Felis-kind, how to knock things off tables. "No no, Loremaster. The inward sweep technique is antiquated. Yes, our forefathers have used this technique since time immemorial, BUT we now live in the future. It's time to get with the program." Sir Boots said as he demonstrated how to push a coin off the table with the back hand of the paw. "The back hand technique is superior because it is a PUSHING motion. Not a pulling motion. We knock things off the table with purpose! Not by accident. Thus, we must use a technique that displays PURPOSE." Five-Toed-Joe, the Operations Expert nodded and added it "The motion of pulling is inefficient as well. As Felis, we strive to be efficient with our use of energy. We are not dogs who run around in circles for no reason. The push technique uses less energy than the inward sweep." Several more coins fell off the table and into a small basket sitting on the floor as Five-Toed-Joe also demonstrated the technique.

WhitePaws, the Construction Expert and Architect shook his head in disapproval and replied "You all have no respect for the art of knocking thing off the table. It does not matter with which technique you use. Nay, you must knock things down with INTENT. The inward sweeping motion allows you to stare into the eyes of the observer while you slowly tap the object closer, and closer. Teasing them until finally, at your whim, the object is knocked down. It is an act of establishing dominance, not of efficiency." The Loremaster purred and nodded in approval as the last of the coins on the table were knocked down and into the basket with a flick of the paw. The Felis looked down into the small basket as it was completely filled with 10 coins. Sir Boots took out a coin from his purse, and took one of the coins from the basket. He passed the two coins over to Five-Toed-Joe and said "We have to get a bigger basket. I'd like to see them try to keep using the sweeping technique when there's more things to knock down the table." Five-Toed-Joe replied "Wait, wait... weren't we supposed to use the money as an investment in the market? We can't just go off and buy a basket with this money. We need to figure out what to do with it."

"By Pasha's signet, you're a genius, Joe!" Sir Boots replied. The other Felis looked at each other with confusion. "You're right. We can't just go buy a bigger basket. Just like how we can't just make the market bigger. We need to get more investments and money to pour into the market. The way we do that is by making a bank that helps out other Felis. If they've got a good idea or product that they can sell in our market, then we can finance them. More products and ideas, means more customers. More customers means more money. More money means..." "A bigger basket!" Joe exclaimed. "Eh... close enough." Sir Boots replied. "Anyways, let's get to it. We're going to be establishing a bank. It's an investment for everyone's futures... and yes we're going to buy a bigger basket later so that we can finish this debate once and for all."

---

Orders/Summary:

Withdraw 1 Wealth from the Market

1. The Exelec open diplomatic relations with the Hydra Riders of Pytium in an attempt to better learn of the current situation in the region and the war among the three city states

5 Exelec Cloakleys
Ka'tuum - Exelec Dragonnewt Agent
4 Reclined (Translator/Communicator, Ballistics, Windbreaker the SpellBreaker, Politics)
1 Rainbow Loremaster
BrightStar w/ Golden Fragment

2. Exploration of the Exelec Auroral Grove WorldShard

50 Motes,
Guardian Spirit,
3 Reclined (StarSeer the Seer, Astronomer, Agriculture)
2 Exelec Agents
1 Winterborn Spectral
5 Springborn Spectral

3. Creation of a bank next to the marketplace to centralize investments in and boost the financial health of the Mosaic Marketplatz and Allod economy

2 Wealth
1 Diplomacy Currency
Marketplatz Perk (+1 Wealth to Construction Projects worth 2+ Wealth)
50 Motes
3 Reclined (Sir Boots the Castellan, WhitePaws the Construction Expert, Five-Toed-Joe the Logistics Expert)
1 Rainbow Loremaster
5 Exelec Cloakleys
1 Winterborn Spectral
 
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Where you see unification, I only see division. The eight worldshards could have vied with and aided each other out of their own self-interest had this Tyrvandrix fellow not forced my hand. Now, as a dire consequence of the marketplatz that you praise me for, Nirvana may have lost the prosperity mutually beneficial cooperation and innovation driving competition, untainted by the Allod's petty grievances, would have most certainly ushered in.

Aye, bringing half of them together is no small deed, no Felis can yet deny me that, but I've also consequentially alienated three of the lot in the process. I hope that it is thus apparent my clan has no truly bitterly hated rivals among them, though there remain plenty that oppose our aims nonetheless, even benign as they are. I would ask of you the opportunity to prove myself worthy of joining the Curv, for I am not an unsympathetic ear to what little is admittedly known of your secret society's cause. Unenlightened as I tragically remain out of the fold, I can only fathom what has led your organization to adopt this methodology of preemptive undermining.

If this is to be the extent of our correspondence and nothing comes of this letter's burning but ashes, I'd be so bold to advise restraint and the long consideration of alternative means to enact lasting change. I worry continuing your subversion of progress may very well achieve your goals of uniting the worldshards, but not into a new Allod; rather, an alliance against the Curv. For all your threats and sabotage, I remain optimistic.


He did not know what to make of the Curv. They spoke as an individual, yet still took the precaution of sealing their letters closed from the eyes of their messengers. They spoke of uniting the worldshards into a new Allod, yet identified themselves with a symbol depicting the worldshards converging with the old Allod. They spoke highly of his accomplishments, yet threatened to undo his works were he not to stand with them. And, when they acted, they arbitrarily presented themselves as an obstacle to be overcome well before their targets could demonstrate whether they were a positive or negative influence on Nirvanian society. Their agents may have even been the culprits behind the seemingly harmless headfruit sprouting up around Mozaic, out of place as they were on the landmass. Wimarc leaves his study to announce to his people a charitable mining expedition to the Illustrada worldshard that requires the attention of the entirety of the clan outside of his household, an order of evacuation in all but name until he could get to the bottom of this. He returns shortly afterwards to pen a response to perhaps the most overtly powerful of his detractors. Rubbing his temples, he begins once he prodded his message to the Curv into the fireplace.

Forgive me for my perceived insolence, Lady Aslani. Costly endeavors so close to home tend to induce a bout of tunnel vision. Though the Illustrada appear to have taken it upon themselves to smooth things over between the high clans and I on my behalf while I was engrossed in my work, even securing a further degree of investment in the vaunted mozaic marketplatz, you, the Spectral, and the Enaitay, have been wronged. Did you expect me to believe otherwise when for lack of a response from the Allod I acted in your best interest?

Nirvana was, in a manner of speaking, at a crossroads. Had I aligned myself with the devils proclaiming their 'bizarre bazaar' to be the greatest market of the realm, welcomed their gift-bearing envoys, and taken part in their vile games, where would you be then? Decadence can bring about another collapse of Felis civilization as surely as any great disaster or conflict, and with such a clear warning I've no doubt the liquidation of imperiled assets was well underway before I committed myself to wrestle back control before the hour became too late.

My word is gold to the three clans I have convinced to work alongside me. They placed their faith and trust in my promises that I will repay what is owed to them for their backing before I reap my own rewards. And so I would like to formally apologize and offer restitution for interrupting your transfer of funds once I recover what I've sunken into this project. After all, maintaining amicable relations with not merely the Aslani, Spectral, and Enaitay, but all those who remain devout acolytes of Pashism is as good for business as it is for the soul.


"Ascilia?" He called once he finished with his stationery for the moment, the bulk of his work behind him. Soon his wife popped into his study, suspiciously wearing her traveling clothes despite lacking a destination, bringing a great degree of levity to his lately troubled thoughts.

She grinned, no doubt intent on toying with him until he spat it out. "I presume you've some need of me?"

Wimarc nodded, playing along. "More than that, but my, how astute. Prepared to return to Pa'ani already?"

She subtly blanched to his mirth, and upon realization slapped him for her bewilderment. They shared a laugh until he could look at his wife without remembering her momentary lapse in reserve and not again devolve into a coughing fit at the briefly perplexed look on her face. He'd need to act for the sake of the beastfolk, that was true, but once more Avecury had to wait for Nirvana...

"You're the perfect candidate to visit courts of the high clans of the Allod in my stead. I've no doubt in my mind that the Aslani will respect you, that the Enaitay will be honor-bound chivalrous, and that your Spectral kin will welcome you home. Their quarrel lies with me after all, and even then I am seeking to make amends. Remind them of the force for good that is Oilpaw equanimity. And, if the Enaitay prove receptive, offer to sell them a special batch of enchanted 'lucky' Nectar as a potential spiritual remedy to enable their worldshard creation." Wimarc tapped his nose as the family spyder crawled into Ascilia's satchel. "Once they're all good and drunk, and either congratulating or consoling each other into the night, perhaps ask them if they'd regale you of the stories behind the deeds likely mounted on the walls, and then, as you find it opportune, the latest gossip."

"What are you and the children to do here on Mozaic?"

"Nothing much dear. Nothing much. Our little vacation to the prime material plane got cut short, so we'll make up for lost time here and see if there's anything left to discover about indigenous fauna and local geology."

Ascilia takes her leave with a nod. Wimarc didn't know whether if she believed him or not, but he resolved to speak the truth of it later to her, even if his wife already knew about what he was planning. Deftly taking up the pen once more, he quickly writes out one final letter.

Our presence on Pa'ani, by design, was constructed to be as inoffensive as possible to it's native islanders. So when the Satyrs came forward to negotiate with us in good faith, declaring our expedition to be trespassing on their land, we believed them and worked to put to rest the environmental disturbances that were sown. We had foolishly thought to delight the Centaurs that neighbor you Tauren without learning of those that they would turn the weapons against in times of war. Forgive us this, for even now when the Satyrs pose no threat to us, we aim to one day produce finely crafted instruments to their liking. So too, would we continue to show generosity to your kind unbidden. Just show us that which we do not know of your culture, so that we may understand, and that our relationship can grow.

1) 500 soot, 5 cogs, and 4 gears, travel to the mountainous astral worldshard of the Illustrada to begin mining operations. All mined resources are presented to the Illustrada to begin paying what they are owed.

2) Wimarc, his noble sons Meldon and Marden, and his noble daughter Sibyl, thoroughly examine the root systems, stalks, and fruit of the headfruit to identify any latent dangers. If harmless, all three bred varieties are moved to a field to be cultivated, if remaining a dormant threat, they're all systematically cut down.

3) Ascilia visits the Aslani, Spectral, and Enaitay to smooth things over. A special batch of enchanted 'Lucky' Nectar is created by her and is advertised to the Enaitay as a fortune-inducing spiritual remedy that might just be what they need to form a worldshard. If they accept to purchase the unit, once they're drunk, Ascilia plies the Enaitay for information. Once inside of Enaitay lands, the spyder slips out of Ascilia's satchel and discretely searches for what is going wrong with their worldshard experiments with the goal of fixing things itself or alerting the Enaitay to the problems without being detected.
 
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TURN 3
Tsar Windracer was honest-to-Pasha shaken. Those that lived in the woods next to Prax Province had claimed it for themselves, with a huge warning in the form of the skulls of a previous tribe. A flayed skin, supposedly of a previous enemy leader to the Mydrall, had been spotted. Needless to say, the Lahu would retreat with haste. He had heard that other cat factions that had claimed land were also having trouble with new enemies. Alliances were being formed.

Supposedly, the Triaxa and the Mercatores had become allied. The devils were quite powerful; without allies, they could be handled, but with them? There was no telling what might happen. Each worldshard's people were developing their own specialties. The majority of the Felis were forming a casual alliance, one that could be broken at a moment's notice. Their market was very powerful, but greed and selfish motives could destroy its power.

Their situation was a precarious one. Things were going well for now, but it could easily all come crashing down. It was time to become stronger. Efficiency was key; if that was maximized, everything else would come smoother.

DECISIONS:
The Lahu retreat from Prax Province, taking their banner with them.
Katana Gold is used for heavy equipment for 10 units.

ORDERS:
1. A great scientific labratory is built in Momoru, made to discover properties (physical and magical) of new materials, new techniques, new life, and new lands.
1 Wealth
Tsar Windracer
20 Lahu Advance-Guard
1 Lahu Apparatchik
5 Tsarspaws
5 Tabaxi Hireate

2. A task force sets out to tame and train the red Ibex as labor animals, and possibly even steeds of a higher caliber.
1 Morale
15 Lahu Advance-Guard
2 Lahu Apparatchik (Skysearcher)
5 Mounted Tsarspaws

3. A third group craft iron tools, primarily built to increase efficiency in farming and mining: plows, sickles, pickaxes.
15 Lahu Advance-Guard
2 Lahu Apparatchik
5 Tsarspaws
5 Spectra Apprenti
 

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