BigHippo8
dem swamps doe
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Diplomacy & Conflict
- Thread starter BigHippo8
- Start date
BigHippo8
dem swamps doe
Dojasu, folding ceaselessly beneath the high crown of Kathendar,
And is it not which the cities of Asissor do? Fold and turn, shift and stoop, in that perpetuum circuit derivative of the mundane and pedestrian. A soldier born, a soldier in fight, a soldier dead: a seaman born, a seaman in flight, a seaman drowned. Truly it is the scholar who shall terminally attain the sweet fruit of immortality.
Whereupon the scintillating white of the sole fortress in Dojasu was a mighty man, evinced shamelessly in the display of a gold-tipped crown pressed against his fore. Couple this the black cloaked, and armed, entourage gathered to him, black, for the paramount color writ on banner of the House of Asissor. He is Eldther Tor, a warrior from Dynastin in the city of learners, and perhaps the King of all beginnings: the first unification of the three major cities, the inception of the House of Asissor, the subsequent swift wars of conquest wrought for the amalgamation of the aggregate territories neighborly and afar. Therefore, the iconoclast becomes explicable, and the King, beside a vast hole of the wall, ornate though it may, seized the vista of the whole Realm.
The sister of the man, the warrior ruler, stood alongside. A mystery nevertheless prevailed throughout the moment, and was pertinent to the death of the Queen Mother of Asissor. Under strange happenstance was her life deprived, the chamber window open when it was typically sealed, traces of dust were founded sporadically spread in her chambers, and, culminating, the attempt on his own being the day pursuing. Rather than as the grand scheme of nothing, Eldther declared treason, murder, and regretfully while the Queen Mother was in her late latter years, silver hair outlining her scalp ruthlessly, he deemed the imposition of some lethal, silent poison more likely.
This time before the set of the noon star, doves, in the prospect of celebration, leadership, honor, were fled to the great and many keeps of the Kathendarian Houses -- to the secluded and placid, diffident, beauty of Delmore tucked into the Voryl, of Farrae, a resting hold for the free riders of the Farrow, to the renowned circle of elders and wisdom in Torrith, nearby Tarb, host to the deliberating house of sagacious debate and counsel, and to Asvadia, pleasing city of temples and overseering mounts -- to at once accrue and convene together the lords of the virgin and young Realm for an exalted feast, homage, and the surreptitious and subtle observation the secondary sovereigns.
Hail, Lords of Kathendar,
Hereby are to be assembled Names lifted and lowered, the roses as well its thorns, to the Castle of your King and Liege, the King of Kathendar, Strong Arm and Leg of the Three Cities, Warden of the Pass to and fro the Voryl heights, and Castigator of the Seas. By the filling of the Pale Lady of Night shall you have been advent to the gates of Dojasu, Powerful Seat of House Asissor. This has come to be in the commencement of the federation of the realm, that in all distress and dismay, the Realm that is Kathendar will stand, its proud fluttering standard never to dip.
This has come to be in the inauguration of your King and Liege, the King of Kathendar, Strong Arm and Leg of the Three Cities, Warden of the Pass to and fro the Voryl heights, and Castigator of the Seas, presented in the customary procession of a kiss to His outstretched hand. This has come to be in festivity and parade, for the Wars that is the Conquest, has ceased and in its slumber, awakes the Kathendarian Realm.
Await
King of Kathendar and Voice of the Three
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
P1 D2
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 2 (-1) = 1
Population - 2
***In two posts, please be at Dojasu!***
And is it not which the cities of Asissor do? Fold and turn, shift and stoop, in that perpetuum circuit derivative of the mundane and pedestrian. A soldier born, a soldier in fight, a soldier dead: a seaman born, a seaman in flight, a seaman drowned. Truly it is the scholar who shall terminally attain the sweet fruit of immortality.
Whereupon the scintillating white of the sole fortress in Dojasu was a mighty man, evinced shamelessly in the display of a gold-tipped crown pressed against his fore. Couple this the black cloaked, and armed, entourage gathered to him, black, for the paramount color writ on banner of the House of Asissor. He is Eldther Tor, a warrior from Dynastin in the city of learners, and perhaps the King of all beginnings: the first unification of the three major cities, the inception of the House of Asissor, the subsequent swift wars of conquest wrought for the amalgamation of the aggregate territories neighborly and afar. Therefore, the iconoclast becomes explicable, and the King, beside a vast hole of the wall, ornate though it may, seized the vista of the whole Realm.
The sister of the man, the warrior ruler, stood alongside. A mystery nevertheless prevailed throughout the moment, and was pertinent to the death of the Queen Mother of Asissor. Under strange happenstance was her life deprived, the chamber window open when it was typically sealed, traces of dust were founded sporadically spread in her chambers, and, culminating, the attempt on his own being the day pursuing. Rather than as the grand scheme of nothing, Eldther declared treason, murder, and regretfully while the Queen Mother was in her late latter years, silver hair outlining her scalp ruthlessly, he deemed the imposition of some lethal, silent poison more likely.
This time before the set of the noon star, doves, in the prospect of celebration, leadership, honor, were fled to the great and many keeps of the Kathendarian Houses -- to the secluded and placid, diffident, beauty of Delmore tucked into the Voryl, of Farrae, a resting hold for the free riders of the Farrow, to the renowned circle of elders and wisdom in Torrith, nearby Tarb, host to the deliberating house of sagacious debate and counsel, and to Asvadia, pleasing city of temples and overseering mounts -- to at once accrue and convene together the lords of the virgin and young Realm for an exalted feast, homage, and the surreptitious and subtle observation the secondary sovereigns.
Hail, Lords of Kathendar,
Hereby are to be assembled Names lifted and lowered, the roses as well its thorns, to the Castle of your King and Liege, the King of Kathendar, Strong Arm and Leg of the Three Cities, Warden of the Pass to and fro the Voryl heights, and Castigator of the Seas. By the filling of the Pale Lady of Night shall you have been advent to the gates of Dojasu, Powerful Seat of House Asissor. This has come to be in the commencement of the federation of the realm, that in all distress and dismay, the Realm that is Kathendar will stand, its proud fluttering standard never to dip.
This has come to be in the inauguration of your King and Liege, the King of Kathendar, Strong Arm and Leg of the Three Cities, Warden of the Pass to and fro the Voryl heights, and Castigator of the Seas, presented in the customary procession of a kiss to His outstretched hand. This has come to be in festivity and parade, for the Wars that is the Conquest, has ceased and in its slumber, awakes the Kathendarian Realm.
Await
King of Kathendar and Voice of the Three
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
P1 D2
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 2 (-1) = 1
Population - 2
***In two posts, please be at Dojasu!***
Last edited by a moderator:
Sha
Doth thou even Liftith?
Ikor Arogallus, the High King of Sand, Stone, and Sea stood at the balcony overlooking the great capital of Delmore. His lips curved softly up at either end without his knowing while he gazed upon the city his father had birthed.
Statues of gold, stone and even glass filled with sand stood above the city, scattered about it. Forever watching. Forever protecting. The country had been unified nearly fifty-five years ago under his father’s leadership then sealed with the union the past king would then take with Ikor’s mother.
Though a generation had passed since the warring clans of the desert and mountain regions allied themselves to conquer the coastlands and drive them to the northern city of Montar (where their remnants remain to this day), there was still constant infighting. Delmore was at peace given the strong military presence felt in every corner of the city, as it was also true of Ehkmel, the great port city of trade to the south; but many of the smaller towns, villages, and communities that litter the country retain their segregated ways.
Today, though, the High King watched the movements of the city from his balcony in the castle carved upon the great mountain behind him, reveling in its beauty and in the peace it seemed to preserve. His trance was interrupted by a call from the room to his rear, “Your excellency,” it said softly behind the soft sound of a breeze fluttering past.
Ikor turned. The unknown smile which had earlier crept upon his face now quickly dissolved as he half-turned his body towards the intruding voice. A sigh escaped him, “Yes, Gregory?” He said stifling his annoyance, “And what news have we from the neighboring lands, then?” The High King asked sounding almost bored as he watched the young messenger cease to bow and raise his head; standing between the fluttering read curtains which blew in the breeze to either side of him.
“A letter for you, Excellency, from House Assisor. They re-”
“Request a meeting of the six Kings – er, House,” He grimaced, “I forget some of these lesser civilizations have many leaders.” He scoffed and twitched his upper lip before continuing as though he were about to curse at a nun while inside a church, “Or none at all.”
Gregory said nothing with eyes now turned toward the floor after the High King’s interruption.
“I suppose,” He began, turning back out towards the city with hands softly gripping the smooth gold of the railing, “Arogallus must accept their invitation.” The king laughed unwittingly and returned his gaze to Gregory who had been watching his back, “Lest we be conquered by the savages who surround us.” His eyes moved away from the messenger as he now peered at the Voryl Peeks, “Why do you wait in the doorway, child?” He asked softly giving little pause before continuing, “Return to them and inform them of the great honor it shall be to meet with such distinguished and honorable men as are the leaders of our neighboring houses. Go, send our intentions of peace and solidarity, leave the letter on the Oak stand nearest the door.”
Not a moment after the High King had finished speaking; Gregory had vanished into the depths of the mountain castle. “Savages,” the king muttered under his breath, “And one so noble as I, son of the great Elgo Arogallus, High King of the Arogal Lands and leader of the ruling and mighty, House Arogallus, must travel to foreign lands when there is such unrest in my own.”
He shook his head and rubbed his temples before turning to walk through the red curtains and stained windows between which Gregory had stood, entering the bedroom. He chimed a small bell which echoed within the room and down the hallways just outside. A moment later as Ikor was taking a seat at his desk a noble entered, clad in blue and white dress.
“Your excellency,” He said with a bow before straitening himself.
“Send for the council, the whole of it,” He said glancing a menacing stare at the noble, “Six O’clock,” while he drew paper from his desk, dipped his feathered quill into ink, and set to work as the noble bowed without a word and began to leave when Ikor’s voice entered his ear again, “Prepare the carriage, will you? I shall be leaving for the lands of House Assisor and their city of Dojasu in the morning.”
----------
Great Leaders of Men,
Noble it is to join the houses of these lands for civil discussion; for the peace that exists and that which we of House Arogallus do solemnly and sincerely intend to keep. Though within my own lands the eldest of clans still bicker amongst themselves, I nonetheless have every intention of lending my services to this quest of peace, and so shall do my utmost to arrive at the scheduled time.
Written from the hand of the High King of Sand, Stone, and Sea,
With Peace and Sincerity,
Ikor Arogallus
P.S. Do take care of the young messenger, if it pleases the Lords of House Assisor, for he shows great promise in the dealings of diplomacy. It would be shameful indeed if he should be lost in the depths of a foreign land.
----------
When Ikor finished his writing he blew the ink dry and laid it flat on the desk. He cleaned the tip of his quill with a swift stroke of white cloth before placing it in its hold and capping the jar of ink. He allowed the letter sit to dry while he lay down on his bed. It was already five O’clock. He would take an hours rest before his advisory council must be met.
The hour passed quickly as Ikor napped, disturbed by a knocking at the door, “Enter,” He groaned as he sat upright, noticing the time. The door creaked open, “Yes, yes, I'm on my way now. Inform them to wait. Patience is a virtue, you understand?” The door closed without a sound.
Ikor Arogallus walked between stone walls adorned with tapestry and the occasional portrait of his House, their crest, and of the lands in which they lived. An equal number of landscapes from both the Desert and Mountain-lands, of course, for the elder clans of the olden days would surely have another fit of imagined slights should their rivals be represented by a single drop of ink more than themselves.
The great wooden doors opened for the High King. He entered, graceful, in his stone-grey tunic strung tightly over the red cloth of his general attire. Six men and two women stood from their seats around the small, circular table, with a short outcropping which held an empty seat to which Ikor moved. He waved his hand speculatively. The whole of the advisory council sat at once.
“It seems, my dear compatriots,” Ikor began as he sat in his place, “As I am hopeful you have already heard, I must make my way to the lands of House Assisor.”
“House Assisor has no lands,” Rikter said with his deep, throbbing voice, “They are a mock combination of states, and less organized then our own clans of old. You cannot intend to ride to them? Shall the messenger boy, Gregory, was it? Go in your stead?”
“Don’t be a fool, Rikter,” Amelia spat from across the small table they encircled, “The High King must go, lest the opposing Houses ally to destroy us. We needn’t start a war, not if w--”
“I am going, Councillor Amelia,” The High King interrupted “And it is you I have chosen to accompany me. Though your affinity for these scattered people all about us is disconcerting at times, it seems I am in need of this weakness of yours for the time.”
Amelia bowed her head, “Of course, your excellency.”
“Excellency,” Armando said leaning forward, “You will mingle, then, with the homeless nomads of House Farrow, the savage tribesmen of House Torrith, the contemptuous republic of House Uros? The only House deserving of any semblance of respect are those of the barely pronounceable House Tvitjod; though their way of choosing a leader rivals the fools of the council of House Uros, though at a much more bearable stage.”
“It must be so, Councilman Armando. I like this predicament least of all; however, if I were to refuse this invitation our lands could not stave off an attack from the combined power of our neighbors, despite their foolish endeavors on political governance. It is best I break bread with leaders of our neighboring lands, lest we be seen as arrogant; as warmongers.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
P1 D2
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 2 -1 = 1
Population - 2
Statues of gold, stone and even glass filled with sand stood above the city, scattered about it. Forever watching. Forever protecting. The country had been unified nearly fifty-five years ago under his father’s leadership then sealed with the union the past king would then take with Ikor’s mother.
Though a generation had passed since the warring clans of the desert and mountain regions allied themselves to conquer the coastlands and drive them to the northern city of Montar (where their remnants remain to this day), there was still constant infighting. Delmore was at peace given the strong military presence felt in every corner of the city, as it was also true of Ehkmel, the great port city of trade to the south; but many of the smaller towns, villages, and communities that litter the country retain their segregated ways.
Today, though, the High King watched the movements of the city from his balcony in the castle carved upon the great mountain behind him, reveling in its beauty and in the peace it seemed to preserve. His trance was interrupted by a call from the room to his rear, “Your excellency,” it said softly behind the soft sound of a breeze fluttering past.
Ikor turned. The unknown smile which had earlier crept upon his face now quickly dissolved as he half-turned his body towards the intruding voice. A sigh escaped him, “Yes, Gregory?” He said stifling his annoyance, “And what news have we from the neighboring lands, then?” The High King asked sounding almost bored as he watched the young messenger cease to bow and raise his head; standing between the fluttering read curtains which blew in the breeze to either side of him.
“A letter for you, Excellency, from House Assisor. They re-”
“Request a meeting of the six Kings – er, House,” He grimaced, “I forget some of these lesser civilizations have many leaders.” He scoffed and twitched his upper lip before continuing as though he were about to curse at a nun while inside a church, “Or none at all.”
Gregory said nothing with eyes now turned toward the floor after the High King’s interruption.
“I suppose,” He began, turning back out towards the city with hands softly gripping the smooth gold of the railing, “Arogallus must accept their invitation.” The king laughed unwittingly and returned his gaze to Gregory who had been watching his back, “Lest we be conquered by the savages who surround us.” His eyes moved away from the messenger as he now peered at the Voryl Peeks, “Why do you wait in the doorway, child?” He asked softly giving little pause before continuing, “Return to them and inform them of the great honor it shall be to meet with such distinguished and honorable men as are the leaders of our neighboring houses. Go, send our intentions of peace and solidarity, leave the letter on the Oak stand nearest the door.”
Not a moment after the High King had finished speaking; Gregory had vanished into the depths of the mountain castle. “Savages,” the king muttered under his breath, “And one so noble as I, son of the great Elgo Arogallus, High King of the Arogal Lands and leader of the ruling and mighty, House Arogallus, must travel to foreign lands when there is such unrest in my own.”
He shook his head and rubbed his temples before turning to walk through the red curtains and stained windows between which Gregory had stood, entering the bedroom. He chimed a small bell which echoed within the room and down the hallways just outside. A moment later as Ikor was taking a seat at his desk a noble entered, clad in blue and white dress.
“Your excellency,” He said with a bow before straitening himself.
“Send for the council, the whole of it,” He said glancing a menacing stare at the noble, “Six O’clock,” while he drew paper from his desk, dipped his feathered quill into ink, and set to work as the noble bowed without a word and began to leave when Ikor’s voice entered his ear again, “Prepare the carriage, will you? I shall be leaving for the lands of House Assisor and their city of Dojasu in the morning.”
----------
Great Leaders of Men,
Noble it is to join the houses of these lands for civil discussion; for the peace that exists and that which we of House Arogallus do solemnly and sincerely intend to keep. Though within my own lands the eldest of clans still bicker amongst themselves, I nonetheless have every intention of lending my services to this quest of peace, and so shall do my utmost to arrive at the scheduled time.
Written from the hand of the High King of Sand, Stone, and Sea,
With Peace and Sincerity,
Ikor Arogallus
P.S. Do take care of the young messenger, if it pleases the Lords of House Assisor, for he shows great promise in the dealings of diplomacy. It would be shameful indeed if he should be lost in the depths of a foreign land.
----------
When Ikor finished his writing he blew the ink dry and laid it flat on the desk. He cleaned the tip of his quill with a swift stroke of white cloth before placing it in its hold and capping the jar of ink. He allowed the letter sit to dry while he lay down on his bed. It was already five O’clock. He would take an hours rest before his advisory council must be met.
The hour passed quickly as Ikor napped, disturbed by a knocking at the door, “Enter,” He groaned as he sat upright, noticing the time. The door creaked open, “Yes, yes, I'm on my way now. Inform them to wait. Patience is a virtue, you understand?” The door closed without a sound.
Ikor Arogallus walked between stone walls adorned with tapestry and the occasional portrait of his House, their crest, and of the lands in which they lived. An equal number of landscapes from both the Desert and Mountain-lands, of course, for the elder clans of the olden days would surely have another fit of imagined slights should their rivals be represented by a single drop of ink more than themselves.
The great wooden doors opened for the High King. He entered, graceful, in his stone-grey tunic strung tightly over the red cloth of his general attire. Six men and two women stood from their seats around the small, circular table, with a short outcropping which held an empty seat to which Ikor moved. He waved his hand speculatively. The whole of the advisory council sat at once.
“It seems, my dear compatriots,” Ikor began as he sat in his place, “As I am hopeful you have already heard, I must make my way to the lands of House Assisor.”
“House Assisor has no lands,” Rikter said with his deep, throbbing voice, “They are a mock combination of states, and less organized then our own clans of old. You cannot intend to ride to them? Shall the messenger boy, Gregory, was it? Go in your stead?”
“Don’t be a fool, Rikter,” Amelia spat from across the small table they encircled, “The High King must go, lest the opposing Houses ally to destroy us. We needn’t start a war, not if w--”
“I am going, Councillor Amelia,” The High King interrupted “And it is you I have chosen to accompany me. Though your affinity for these scattered people all about us is disconcerting at times, it seems I am in need of this weakness of yours for the time.”
Amelia bowed her head, “Of course, your excellency.”
“Excellency,” Armando said leaning forward, “You will mingle, then, with the homeless nomads of House Farrow, the savage tribesmen of House Torrith, the contemptuous republic of House Uros? The only House deserving of any semblance of respect are those of the barely pronounceable House Tvitjod; though their way of choosing a leader rivals the fools of the council of House Uros, though at a much more bearable stage.”
“It must be so, Councilman Armando. I like this predicament least of all; however, if I were to refuse this invitation our lands could not stave off an attack from the combined power of our neighbors, despite their foolish endeavors on political governance. It is best I break bread with leaders of our neighboring lands, lest we be seen as arrogant; as warmongers.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
P1 D2
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 2 -1 = 1
Population - 2
Last edited by a moderator:
General Deth Glitch
Two Thousand Club
House Farrow
The rocky lands where the City of Farrae sits once held a hill in the center but now it holds a great flat patch of grass, edged with stone. This place is know as the Field of Folly and is 150 ft by 150 ft. At the foot of its northern stair, Farrow's Stair, there is a large encampment with three stone buildings, one leads down below the Field and is filled with the dead of the Clan of Farrae/Farrow. The next building has no roof and holds a stone basin surrounded by a channel of water about 2 ft wide that takes water straight from the River of Dracos, the only major river in their land and a river of extreme religious and cultural significance. However it is the third building that matters as, while it is small, it is just about the most important building in the land as it contains the bedchambers of the House Farrow and the Red Hall, a room made entirely of sacred red marble from high up in the mountains. The Red Hall is the room used for settling disputes among the clans and the people who live within the Farrae Clans lands.
Damon, the Khan of the Farrae and Khagan of all the clans, awoke to the back of a scantily dressed woman who was looking at the ground and calling his name "Khagan Damon?" She called after sometime of him groggily waking up and rolling out of his large bed.
"What business do you have in my room, Vaameia, your place is with the concubines." He muttered as he covered himself "Well speak?" he intoned getting impatient
"There is a messenger here for you, he is hails from the Assisor Clan-"
"The Assisor HOUSE!, anyway send someone to tell him I will be with him, you know it is not your place to meet with delegates, at least not dressed like that, I may be fond of you but you are still a whore gifted to me from the Traki Clan for my pleasure. Find someone to pass my message then prepare the tent and get a whore to bed him, not you." he felt he needed to reinstate that point, while he still held many of his peoples cultural and religious beleifs it was dealings like this that made his slightly more civilised in the eyes of the other houses and able to use diplomacy over war. Even is he was still not seen as an equal by most of the others. But the Harem, of which every clan sent him a woman and he them (the quality of which depending on their relations at the time) every five years, was something he supported despite the views of the other houses.
As Vaameia left Damon began to dress and soon another concubine came it, she was better dressed and took it upon herself to help Damon dress before leaving again. Damon was dressed in all his tribal gear and his many layers of cloth, robes and fur. He wares a wooden crown inlaid with gold and ruby set into the front. He steps out into the Red Hall and the woman who had been sent to covey his message immediately sat on her legs and bowed her head in respect.
"Hail lord Damon of house Farrow!" The messenger said bowing his head, "The House of Assisor requests your presence at the-"
"Do you have a letter?" Damon interrupted "If so hand it to me" he said in the diplomatic tongue used by the other Houses, not wanting to sit by and listen to a lot of rubbish about mighty this and gracious that, skimming through the foreign words until he saw such things as dates and times and then he looked up and saw the messenger standing by uneasily "Follow her to your room" he said motioning the woman "She will show you where your will be resting and will look after any needs you have" he said nodding to her.
Damon looked across and up to the Field of Folly where he could see some warriors sparring, looking closer he could see that there was rider shooting arrows at the pole in the middle of the field, the fact that he was shooting at the pole meant he was one of Damon's finest horse archers and as such Damon called him over, asking him to gather some riders and send messages to the lesser Khans, asking them to meet him on the route to house Assisor if they wish to attend and then he called his warriors to the Basin.
Once most of his men had arrived at the basin he was handed the Dracos Dagger by a high priest and cut into his ring finger causing it to bleed into the basin, the priest then lead a foal to the basin and slit its throat, leaning it into his lap and kneeling with it as it bled out and caressing its head on his lap as it went to ride with Dracos and the greatest horses in the sky lands. Following Damon each warrior planning to accompany Damon also took the Dagger and cut their ring fingers to mix their blood with the foals and then release the blood into the river. This was done in the hopes of creating a safe future away from their homelands.
The warriors that were joining Damon then went off to prepare a feast and invited the messenger from Assisor to join them on the Field of Folly where a great fire was prepared and many people were at work preparing food and drink for the great feast. Once the feast began women danced before the warriors, some soldier competed to show their worth to each other and their khan and one women challenged Damon to a battle of Wed. In which they would be Wed if he accepted and she remained undefeated for more than one minute, but like all the other challenges he received she lasted little more than ten seconds.
In the morning he would ride out to meet with the houses with representatives from each Clan.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
P1 D2
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 2 -1 = 1
Population - 2
The rocky lands where the City of Farrae sits once held a hill in the center but now it holds a great flat patch of grass, edged with stone. This place is know as the Field of Folly and is 150 ft by 150 ft. At the foot of its northern stair, Farrow's Stair, there is a large encampment with three stone buildings, one leads down below the Field and is filled with the dead of the Clan of Farrae/Farrow. The next building has no roof and holds a stone basin surrounded by a channel of water about 2 ft wide that takes water straight from the River of Dracos, the only major river in their land and a river of extreme religious and cultural significance. However it is the third building that matters as, while it is small, it is just about the most important building in the land as it contains the bedchambers of the House Farrow and the Red Hall, a room made entirely of sacred red marble from high up in the mountains. The Red Hall is the room used for settling disputes among the clans and the people who live within the Farrae Clans lands.
Damon, the Khan of the Farrae and Khagan of all the clans, awoke to the back of a scantily dressed woman who was looking at the ground and calling his name "Khagan Damon?" She called after sometime of him groggily waking up and rolling out of his large bed.
"What business do you have in my room, Vaameia, your place is with the concubines." He muttered as he covered himself "Well speak?" he intoned getting impatient
"There is a messenger here for you, he is hails from the Assisor Clan-"
"The Assisor HOUSE!, anyway send someone to tell him I will be with him, you know it is not your place to meet with delegates, at least not dressed like that, I may be fond of you but you are still a whore gifted to me from the Traki Clan for my pleasure. Find someone to pass my message then prepare the tent and get a whore to bed him, not you." he felt he needed to reinstate that point, while he still held many of his peoples cultural and religious beleifs it was dealings like this that made his slightly more civilised in the eyes of the other houses and able to use diplomacy over war. Even is he was still not seen as an equal by most of the others. But the Harem, of which every clan sent him a woman and he them (the quality of which depending on their relations at the time) every five years, was something he supported despite the views of the other houses.
As Vaameia left Damon began to dress and soon another concubine came it, she was better dressed and took it upon herself to help Damon dress before leaving again. Damon was dressed in all his tribal gear and his many layers of cloth, robes and fur. He wares a wooden crown inlaid with gold and ruby set into the front. He steps out into the Red Hall and the woman who had been sent to covey his message immediately sat on her legs and bowed her head in respect.
"Hail lord Damon of house Farrow!" The messenger said bowing his head, "The House of Assisor requests your presence at the-"
"Do you have a letter?" Damon interrupted "If so hand it to me" he said in the diplomatic tongue used by the other Houses, not wanting to sit by and listen to a lot of rubbish about mighty this and gracious that, skimming through the foreign words until he saw such things as dates and times and then he looked up and saw the messenger standing by uneasily "Follow her to your room" he said motioning the woman "She will show you where your will be resting and will look after any needs you have" he said nodding to her.
Damon looked across and up to the Field of Folly where he could see some warriors sparring, looking closer he could see that there was rider shooting arrows at the pole in the middle of the field, the fact that he was shooting at the pole meant he was one of Damon's finest horse archers and as such Damon called him over, asking him to gather some riders and send messages to the lesser Khans, asking them to meet him on the route to house Assisor if they wish to attend and then he called his warriors to the Basin.
Once most of his men had arrived at the basin he was handed the Dracos Dagger by a high priest and cut into his ring finger causing it to bleed into the basin, the priest then lead a foal to the basin and slit its throat, leaning it into his lap and kneeling with it as it bled out and caressing its head on his lap as it went to ride with Dracos and the greatest horses in the sky lands. Following Damon each warrior planning to accompany Damon also took the Dagger and cut their ring fingers to mix their blood with the foals and then release the blood into the river. This was done in the hopes of creating a safe future away from their homelands.
The warriors that were joining Damon then went off to prepare a feast and invited the messenger from Assisor to join them on the Field of Folly where a great fire was prepared and many people were at work preparing food and drink for the great feast. Once the feast began women danced before the warriors, some soldier competed to show their worth to each other and their khan and one women challenged Damon to a battle of Wed. In which they would be Wed if he accepted and she remained undefeated for more than one minute, but like all the other challenges he received she lasted little more than ten seconds.
In the morning he would ride out to meet with the houses with representatives from each Clan.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
P1 D2
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 2 -1 = 1
Population - 2
ThatGuyWithSouvlaki
Lucky Laki Malakis
Loud voices echoed through out the Sacred Grounds as clan leaders argued loudly amongst themselves. Outsiders expect the Sacred Grounds to be a large field with a stone temple with clan elders, old men in white robes and long grey beards, sitting in a circle inside the temple on stone seats. The truth is vastly different and what one needs to be understood that the sacred does not refere to any religion significance but the truce in effect between the clans of the house as the time of the meeting in these area. The Sacred Grounds at the time of the clan meeting is a sprawling tent city with each tent containing one of the clans of the house, holding the clan leader and his entourage. The tents are status symbol the clans compete with each other to have the biggest or most ornate with wooden carvings. Though none were bigger then the tent in the far end of the city, usually on a mound and towering of all others, were the meeting is held. In the centrsl road to the large tent stalls set up by merchants of each clan traded the clans finest wares, these are later removed on the last say of the meeting to set up a grand table of the clan meeting feast. To the Torrith this event was more then just politics.
Right now though the streets of the tent city were empty and the only sound is the arguments within the central clan particularly from Rodivik, clan leader of Tarror and Ladet, leader of clan Harror:
"Our clans we were grand rulers of all the lands of the continent, look at us now imprisoned in the bountiless centre of the land at the mercy of the so called "high crown" of Kathendar. Reduced to dealing with houses that were our enemies despite beating them back in the great war, who are just waiting for the time they can decent on us like jackals or scavenger birds. I propose to reclaim our former might if we can't reclaim our rightfull land we leave it to greener postures. The fabled land in the north west as the great priestess has foretold. To break out to the ocean and to freedom and prosperity!" Rodivik called out a roar of both approval and jeer. Rodivik wasn't a fit man or tall but he was imposing in his hide armor and great sword on his back.
"Inspiring words as always but again as always lack substance. " Ladet said standing from her chair, in her white dress and holding an ornate sword. She was delicate in look but had strength and fire in her eyes further hardened by a scar running down her left eyebrow and eyd."You exodus is an impossible, no house will allow us to travel in their land and war would be a disaster! And even if we do make we are not sailors and have no ships to go to this imaginary land of yours. Besides this land has provided for us well there is no reason to leave. "
"Easy for you too say, your clan post war got some of the most futile field...." Rodivik wenot to argue before Ladet interjected.
"And your clan got the other half a part of the mining. Your family did well before you wasted it all on your girth."She said gaining laughter from the crowd.
Rodovik went red in anger."Rich coming from a woman who death of her eldest siblings proved fortuitous."
"Oh you didn't just..." she went to argue before the high priestess sitting at the back of the tent monitoring the debates stood and walked up to the two.
"This will not dissolve into childish fighting,." She called with alot of authority in her voice before looking at Rodovik." Your movement has some support but you lack any plans or ideas to prove is viable. However I will I low you to are next meeting to put up evidence that it viable and it will go up to a vote. Ladet can oppose but this ends the matter for now. Is there other things to be discussed?"
"Yes...High priestess." Said a man from Clan Riloko, as small clan but situated to vital trade routes with other houses." We have messengers of an inauguration of the Kathendar king at Dojasu, our "house" Is required to intent. We need to volunteers to go to the Dojasu."
There was a collective groan from the meeting clan leaders before Rodovik stepped forward." I will go for the glory of Forinth." He said with a look of pride.
"I am sure." Ladet said sarcastically before stepping forward." I will go as well."
"Then its decided. Meeting ended. Time for the feast." The priestess announced.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
P2 D1
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 2 -1 = 1
Population - 2
Right now though the streets of the tent city were empty and the only sound is the arguments within the central clan particularly from Rodivik, clan leader of Tarror and Ladet, leader of clan Harror:
"Our clans we were grand rulers of all the lands of the continent, look at us now imprisoned in the bountiless centre of the land at the mercy of the so called "high crown" of Kathendar. Reduced to dealing with houses that were our enemies despite beating them back in the great war, who are just waiting for the time they can decent on us like jackals or scavenger birds. I propose to reclaim our former might if we can't reclaim our rightfull land we leave it to greener postures. The fabled land in the north west as the great priestess has foretold. To break out to the ocean and to freedom and prosperity!" Rodivik called out a roar of both approval and jeer. Rodivik wasn't a fit man or tall but he was imposing in his hide armor and great sword on his back.
"Inspiring words as always but again as always lack substance. " Ladet said standing from her chair, in her white dress and holding an ornate sword. She was delicate in look but had strength and fire in her eyes further hardened by a scar running down her left eyebrow and eyd."You exodus is an impossible, no house will allow us to travel in their land and war would be a disaster! And even if we do make we are not sailors and have no ships to go to this imaginary land of yours. Besides this land has provided for us well there is no reason to leave. "
"Easy for you too say, your clan post war got some of the most futile field...." Rodivik wenot to argue before Ladet interjected.
"And your clan got the other half a part of the mining. Your family did well before you wasted it all on your girth."She said gaining laughter from the crowd.
Rodovik went red in anger."Rich coming from a woman who death of her eldest siblings proved fortuitous."
"Oh you didn't just..." she went to argue before the high priestess sitting at the back of the tent monitoring the debates stood and walked up to the two.
"This will not dissolve into childish fighting,." She called with alot of authority in her voice before looking at Rodovik." Your movement has some support but you lack any plans or ideas to prove is viable. However I will I low you to are next meeting to put up evidence that it viable and it will go up to a vote. Ladet can oppose but this ends the matter for now. Is there other things to be discussed?"
"Yes...High priestess." Said a man from Clan Riloko, as small clan but situated to vital trade routes with other houses." We have messengers of an inauguration of the Kathendar king at Dojasu, our "house" Is required to intent. We need to volunteers to go to the Dojasu."
There was a collective groan from the meeting clan leaders before Rodovik stepped forward." I will go for the glory of Forinth." He said with a look of pride.
"I am sure." Ladet said sarcastically before stepping forward." I will go as well."
"Then its decided. Meeting ended. Time for the feast." The priestess announced.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
P2 D1
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 2 -1 = 1
Population - 2
Soviet Panda
Red Panda Commanda.
The Council was in meeting. They were debating one thing and one thing alone, who they hell they were to send to the meeting. They all wore masks, to hide who they were and to give the sense of equality. But in reality they all knew each other. Masks were good in all, but not if most of the members, if not all, were elected to the position. Their masks depicted many things. The Jester, The Stag, The Bull, The Thief, The Knight, and many, many more. Another rather ridiculous tradition was to not name the members while they wore the mask, in other words while they were meeting.
"I demand to attend this gathering. I have much many more dealings with the other nations." said one rather round member wearing the mask of a person that one could call a traveler. "I have been to many of these nations myself, to get a taste of life as they live it. I know what they think, nobles think remarkably like their peasants." he finished before sitting down. Almost immediately, several more members stood up. But one, with a greying beard and thinning hair wearing the mask of, ironically enough, an old man, spoke first.
"You claim to have gone to these places, but quiet frankly do not believe you. I have dealed with many people in my long, long life. Traders, farmers, sailors, captains, and everything in between..." His speech went on like many others, pointing out he was the most worthy and why. This was the majority of the talking today in the Council Hall. But a decision would be made, one always was.
Finally, after a full day of arguing, a decision was made. "Congratulations, Master Crane." the proclaimed head of this meeting announced. Master Crane, in question, was a rather round man as well, but with a full set of hair unlike many others with his girth. "You will be the one sent to this meeting." And with that, they were dismissed.
Other where, in the port city, a great day has come. Many fishing boats have come in with an unusually large haul. And not a few have come in with full grown whales in tow, taking several other boats to help haul. How these fishermen managed to get whole whales is not known. But their meat and oil, as well as their bones and other things, sold for a high price. This increased the amount of gold in the coffers, much to the delight of traders and nobles alike.
P1D2
Wood: 2
Metal: 2
Food: 2
Stone: 2
Population: 2
"I demand to attend this gathering. I have much many more dealings with the other nations." said one rather round member wearing the mask of a person that one could call a traveler. "I have been to many of these nations myself, to get a taste of life as they live it. I know what they think, nobles think remarkably like their peasants." he finished before sitting down. Almost immediately, several more members stood up. But one, with a greying beard and thinning hair wearing the mask of, ironically enough, an old man, spoke first.
"You claim to have gone to these places, but quiet frankly do not believe you. I have dealed with many people in my long, long life. Traders, farmers, sailors, captains, and everything in between..." His speech went on like many others, pointing out he was the most worthy and why. This was the majority of the talking today in the Council Hall. But a decision would be made, one always was.
Finally, after a full day of arguing, a decision was made. "Congratulations, Master Crane." the proclaimed head of this meeting announced. Master Crane, in question, was a rather round man as well, but with a full set of hair unlike many others with his girth. "You will be the one sent to this meeting." And with that, they were dismissed.
Other where, in the port city, a great day has come. Many fishing boats have come in with an unusually large haul. And not a few have come in with full grown whales in tow, taking several other boats to help haul. How these fishermen managed to get whole whales is not known. But their meat and oil, as well as their bones and other things, sold for a high price. This increased the amount of gold in the coffers, much to the delight of traders and nobles alike.
P1D2
Wood: 2
Metal: 2
Food: 2
Stone: 2
Population: 2
Last edited by a moderator:
BigHippo8
dem swamps doe
The Surmount of King, Walk and Promenade within that Doau city, the mighty city of learners,
and its First of Name proceeds judiciously upon the lane, examining in his passing the construction of a grand archway to immortalize the Conquest and to make welcome, and diffident, the Lords Sovereign and their imminent congregation. For the orb whose sojourn herein the dusk and night was nearly ample with some eternal silver, drunk and inebriated to cast rays of lengthening pale.
Eldther Tor was previously absorbed to the collective comprehension of affirmative Lords Sovereign letters, and of the multitudes of carriers, serfs, he aptly rewarded them residence in the Keep for Guests of their journey. It was not to surprise the by and by income of worded conviction of them who reign, and recent and fresh wound was difficult to at once manage remedy in the effort of dissidence. In this early light of day, Eldther strode downward the tallest and most decorated passage of Dojasu, in shoulder-held carriage nevertheless, and mulled through the contingents of laborers, prominently of slaves, impartial to prior cultural elitism, and belief granted or denied, of race. And now, men of origins as of the wind become stratified to distinct Houses, now twist and spasm in their knee bend to I, Eldther Tor, and now enter the archway of their shame. The game is elucidated.
"My King, we are arrived," spoken the lead carriage driver, incidentally as well a slave albeit of royal association, and of Eldther's notice, he has shifted tenaciously in the duration of the trip.
"Very good, and I will depart hereby."
So he, the King, did, and the stone and granite fortifications of Dojasu loomed darkly ahead, their impeccable shadow antithesis to asylum. When Eldther overheard a tidbit of loosed, hushed conversation mouthed from the prior head carriage bearer, "--perhaps it has. He wore a grisly grin--", he was regaled. I possess the fear of my people, yet men of which name have not ruled have not fear? Diligent watchmen, stalwart watchmen, manned the high walls, and among was a pervading manner of equity, duty, and ultimately, willingness. The far-reaching echo of the Three Cities Civil War.
An elegant, vivacious woman encroached him, Eldther, in full black gown, and she levered his hands to her lips. "My Honored King and my Brother."
In turn, the videlicet kissed her hand. "Sister. You are well?" Together, they neared the coterminous boundary of the Surmount highway along the city wall, and they ascended the latter.
"I am," she eyes the warrior's expression and smiles in trace proportions, "I preempt your initial inquiry. The feast has been prepared, luxurious foods from Ingenvor and all the ports, aboriginal and afar. Entertainment is splendid, of musicians, tale-tellers, and your Fool will be present."
Considering the postulation of the finality of foresight absently, the Conqueror propounds, "The women? Half gown of black, woven about only at the waist, an unclothed breast, and of Dynastin hailing?"
"Aye, and the finest."
Upon the completion of the spiraling staircase and its climb, Eldther the King and his sister were recognized. The first soldier pounded a fist to his chest, and then the following soldier, onward to a cacophony of resounding batter. The ubiquity of clouds abutting the skies of Dojasu were abruptly vanquished for black, thundering harbingers. A young man, imperious and bumbling, while bearing the mind-presumed insignia of address and importance, was fleet of foot and bowed and knelt and kissed Eldther's hand. "Your Highness and King, I have seen a host of the banner of the fields of red, twin intertwined vipers of sorts fashioned to its silk. I conjecture House Torrith."
Eldther the King turned and looked, and rested his sore, ruling arms on the rails of the wall, "Noble House of Arogallus, courier." For as the youngster bowed vociferously and in clamor, the Warrior broadly beamed, grisly beamed, in the moment, and in the time the rains of the harvest descends to the earth.
The game has begun. Vengeance is come.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
P1 D1 (Storm, Decline)
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 1
Population - 2
and its First of Name proceeds judiciously upon the lane, examining in his passing the construction of a grand archway to immortalize the Conquest and to make welcome, and diffident, the Lords Sovereign and their imminent congregation. For the orb whose sojourn herein the dusk and night was nearly ample with some eternal silver, drunk and inebriated to cast rays of lengthening pale.
Eldther Tor was previously absorbed to the collective comprehension of affirmative Lords Sovereign letters, and of the multitudes of carriers, serfs, he aptly rewarded them residence in the Keep for Guests of their journey. It was not to surprise the by and by income of worded conviction of them who reign, and recent and fresh wound was difficult to at once manage remedy in the effort of dissidence. In this early light of day, Eldther strode downward the tallest and most decorated passage of Dojasu, in shoulder-held carriage nevertheless, and mulled through the contingents of laborers, prominently of slaves, impartial to prior cultural elitism, and belief granted or denied, of race. And now, men of origins as of the wind become stratified to distinct Houses, now twist and spasm in their knee bend to I, Eldther Tor, and now enter the archway of their shame. The game is elucidated.
"My King, we are arrived," spoken the lead carriage driver, incidentally as well a slave albeit of royal association, and of Eldther's notice, he has shifted tenaciously in the duration of the trip.
"Very good, and I will depart hereby."
So he, the King, did, and the stone and granite fortifications of Dojasu loomed darkly ahead, their impeccable shadow antithesis to asylum. When Eldther overheard a tidbit of loosed, hushed conversation mouthed from the prior head carriage bearer, "--perhaps it has. He wore a grisly grin--", he was regaled. I possess the fear of my people, yet men of which name have not ruled have not fear? Diligent watchmen, stalwart watchmen, manned the high walls, and among was a pervading manner of equity, duty, and ultimately, willingness. The far-reaching echo of the Three Cities Civil War.
An elegant, vivacious woman encroached him, Eldther, in full black gown, and she levered his hands to her lips. "My Honored King and my Brother."
In turn, the videlicet kissed her hand. "Sister. You are well?" Together, they neared the coterminous boundary of the Surmount highway along the city wall, and they ascended the latter.
"I am," she eyes the warrior's expression and smiles in trace proportions, "I preempt your initial inquiry. The feast has been prepared, luxurious foods from Ingenvor and all the ports, aboriginal and afar. Entertainment is splendid, of musicians, tale-tellers, and your Fool will be present."
Considering the postulation of the finality of foresight absently, the Conqueror propounds, "The women? Half gown of black, woven about only at the waist, an unclothed breast, and of Dynastin hailing?"
"Aye, and the finest."
Upon the completion of the spiraling staircase and its climb, Eldther the King and his sister were recognized. The first soldier pounded a fist to his chest, and then the following soldier, onward to a cacophony of resounding batter. The ubiquity of clouds abutting the skies of Dojasu were abruptly vanquished for black, thundering harbingers. A young man, imperious and bumbling, while bearing the mind-presumed insignia of address and importance, was fleet of foot and bowed and knelt and kissed Eldther's hand. "Your Highness and King, I have seen a host of the banner of the fields of red, twin intertwined vipers of sorts fashioned to its silk. I conjecture House Torrith."
Eldther the King turned and looked, and rested his sore, ruling arms on the rails of the wall, "Noble House of Arogallus, courier." For as the youngster bowed vociferously and in clamor, the Warrior broadly beamed, grisly beamed, in the moment, and in the time the rains of the harvest descends to the earth.
The game has begun. Vengeance is come.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
P1 D1 (Storm, Decline)
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 1
Population - 2
Last edited by a moderator:
General Deth Glitch
Two Thousand Club
As the sun rose the great Khagan awoke before the birds of dawn began their calls. A woman kneeling are his door rose to assist him in dressing and then left to seek Vaameia at his bidding. Upon the Field Of Folly a small host of riders were already assembled and so Damon, now clothed, set up his stair to meet him as the shadow of the Dawn Dawn Mount began to recede toward the rising sun and his men took a brief pause in their preparations to respect him and regale him. A woman approached leading his noble steed, accompanied by Vaameia on foot, "Vaameia, make preparations for five of my most beautiful woman to accompany me, I propose to offer them as a gift to the man to whom even I am expected to bow." he monotonously spoke, "You will also accompany me, if I am to be far from home then I will be requiring some companionship."
"Of course Khagan, I have already made preparations for their transport, I will go forth and select the women and then return to ride by your side." she responded before bowing and leaving for the harem.
"Loyal soldiers and men whom I call brother! Today we ride out to the Horselands to both meet with the representatives from the other clans and to capture a wild stallion to gift to our host to show how fine our horses truly are!" he said to a host of cheers, It was then that he pulled himself atop his steed and looked about the assembled soldiers, his brother had informed him that everything was ready and then Damon had slowly passed his brother temporary charge of the Clan and, by extension, the whole of the lands of Farrow via the rites of the Hoard. With that the men set off on the long ride to the horselands, hindered only by the elegant carriage housing the concubines.
Within a few hours the men arrived at the halls of Clan Maer and most of the clans had already arrived at the holdings of clan Maer and after a short while word arrived from the last clan and so, with a small hoard, not large enough to conquer any of their powerful foes but fearsome all the same they set off for Dojasu. Of the great clans all but one Khan came themselves with one sending his brother, of the lesser clans about a third of them sent members of their family, one came personally and the rest sent a loyal rider to inform them of the decision made. While waiting for the last clans they managed to capture a mighty stallion and, once all the clans had amassed rode north at speed.
As the sun began its slow decent below the horizon, the riders came into sight of Dojasu and slowed their hurried march. Arriving to find themselves in the midst of a storm, much unlike any they had experienced down south and so they hurriedly set up in a flat area, men frantically rushing too and fro setting up tents, starting with the temporary harem, followed by the 'war'tent and Damon's tent, soon everything else was up but still they were scrambling about forcing the pins holding the great tents that marked deeply into their culture and hoping to secure the tents as the winds continued to pick up and some men took some serious wounds as some things not quite tied down picked up and, in some cases, began to hit the people running about wildly trying to keep all their supplies in check.
Damon set off with some of the more important Khans and rode swiftly into the city, holding close to his steed to avoid being blown off in the powerful wind and rides to Dojasu, hailing the guards within.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
P1 D1 (Storm, Decline)
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 1
Population - 2
"Of course Khagan, I have already made preparations for their transport, I will go forth and select the women and then return to ride by your side." she responded before bowing and leaving for the harem.
"Loyal soldiers and men whom I call brother! Today we ride out to the Horselands to both meet with the representatives from the other clans and to capture a wild stallion to gift to our host to show how fine our horses truly are!" he said to a host of cheers, It was then that he pulled himself atop his steed and looked about the assembled soldiers, his brother had informed him that everything was ready and then Damon had slowly passed his brother temporary charge of the Clan and, by extension, the whole of the lands of Farrow via the rites of the Hoard. With that the men set off on the long ride to the horselands, hindered only by the elegant carriage housing the concubines.
Within a few hours the men arrived at the halls of Clan Maer and most of the clans had already arrived at the holdings of clan Maer and after a short while word arrived from the last clan and so, with a small hoard, not large enough to conquer any of their powerful foes but fearsome all the same they set off for Dojasu. Of the great clans all but one Khan came themselves with one sending his brother, of the lesser clans about a third of them sent members of their family, one came personally and the rest sent a loyal rider to inform them of the decision made. While waiting for the last clans they managed to capture a mighty stallion and, once all the clans had amassed rode north at speed.
As the sun began its slow decent below the horizon, the riders came into sight of Dojasu and slowed their hurried march. Arriving to find themselves in the midst of a storm, much unlike any they had experienced down south and so they hurriedly set up in a flat area, men frantically rushing too and fro setting up tents, starting with the temporary harem, followed by the 'war'tent and Damon's tent, soon everything else was up but still they were scrambling about forcing the pins holding the great tents that marked deeply into their culture and hoping to secure the tents as the winds continued to pick up and some men took some serious wounds as some things not quite tied down picked up and, in some cases, began to hit the people running about wildly trying to keep all their supplies in check.
Damon set off with some of the more important Khans and rode swiftly into the city, holding close to his steed to avoid being blown off in the powerful wind and rides to Dojasu, hailing the guards within.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
P1 D1 (Storm, Decline)
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 1
Population - 2
ThatGuyWithSouvlaki
Lucky Laki Malakis
There was an unearthly stretch echoed through the field as an army stood on parade outside a settlement, overseen by Rodovik. He beamed in bride as his troops began to perform their traditional pre battle cursing ritual. Row after row of burly man and women armed to the teeth, screaming howling and cursing at the top of their voice putting menacing faces. The slammed their weapons against each other and with their free hands slamming their shoulders on sighed. This made a cacophony of noise aimed to wet the underthings and he couldnt blame them even after watching it the parade several time he still had a chill go down his spine.
Once the display was done he rode on his horse towards them with the tradition inspection of his troops. With the discussion of whether they should try their luck overseas being a hot topic among the Torrith, he knew it could lead to conflict amongst the clans and quite possibly with other house. The torrinth lacked any real presence in the sea and they were behind on technology. He would try to get some ships through the meeting but if he cant he would be willing to take it by force if need be. He readied his armies and that of supporting clans and trained them hard. There was also an ulterior motive as well, looking for members to act for his personal guard to the event at Dojasu. a terrifying group of soldiers on his back should give the though of conflict away of the mind of Torrinths enemies even enemies from within. Besides he didnt expect any trouble, he was sure the houses would love a Torrinth exodus for the opening of land for those as jackal to move in.
He picked out ten of his troops and told the rest to leave. He stepped off his horse and walked among his guard."You should be considered fortunate. You are to be my escorts to one of the turning point to our great people history. With this meeting in Dojasu we will secure out future out the the gods granted lands to the west, land filled with milk and honey. And what is the best part of this trip, you are not required to do anything more then show your mighty faces to the fat and lazy nobles At Dojasu. The mere sight of such fine man and woman would be enough to grant as out god given right!"
P1D1
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 1
Population - 2
(sorry for not best work. busy and could think of anything better write.)
Once the display was done he rode on his horse towards them with the tradition inspection of his troops. With the discussion of whether they should try their luck overseas being a hot topic among the Torrith, he knew it could lead to conflict amongst the clans and quite possibly with other house. The torrinth lacked any real presence in the sea and they were behind on technology. He would try to get some ships through the meeting but if he cant he would be willing to take it by force if need be. He readied his armies and that of supporting clans and trained them hard. There was also an ulterior motive as well, looking for members to act for his personal guard to the event at Dojasu. a terrifying group of soldiers on his back should give the though of conflict away of the mind of Torrinths enemies even enemies from within. Besides he didnt expect any trouble, he was sure the houses would love a Torrinth exodus for the opening of land for those as jackal to move in.
He picked out ten of his troops and told the rest to leave. He stepped off his horse and walked among his guard."You should be considered fortunate. You are to be my escorts to one of the turning point to our great people history. With this meeting in Dojasu we will secure out future out the the gods granted lands to the west, land filled with milk and honey. And what is the best part of this trip, you are not required to do anything more then show your mighty faces to the fat and lazy nobles At Dojasu. The mere sight of such fine man and woman would be enough to grant as out god given right!"
P1D1
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 1
Population - 2
(sorry for not best work. busy and could think of anything better write.)
Sha
Doth thou even Liftith?
Ikor Arogallus, the High King of Sand, Stone, and Seastood at his balcony overlooking the eastern sea as the sun rose before him. He watched as the iridescent orange rose from beyond the edge of the sea with a smile planted on his face. As the sun became fully round in the sky he departed, lying upon pillow across from Councilwoman Amelia in their lavish and robust carriage. The carriage was surrounded by 12 of the Guard Nobility, the elite force tasked with the protection of the king, in conjunction with another a small troop of no more than 20 men carrying the standard of House Arogallus upon horseback. This contingent of cavalry and carriage departed the capital and rode north through the desert lands. The party was inclined to stay towards the western roads nearer the mountains as the segregated ways of the clans deep within the desert lands ought to be avoided. The journey would take some time. Surely Gregory, the messenger boy, would arrive weeks before as he was traveling alone and on horseback directly through the desert which encompassed the whole center of the Arogal lands.
The journey was completed without incident when they finally arrived at the northern border and pushed beyond into the lands of Assisor. Ikor looked back, watching as his lands faded into the distance with a grimace. He was sure of the capabilities of his high council to rule in his absence, though the feeling left the taste of char in his mouth. He smacked his lips.
“Excellency?” Amelia asked, seated across from him in the cushioned carriage of nobility.
“Hmm?” He responded without moving his head from the rear window facing his country to the south, “It has been a long time since I have ventured from our home.” He paused with a sigh, moving his eyes to Amelia who did not yet respond, “I should hope these talks of peace are fruitful. We must be allowed to quell all doubt within our own borders before we can be bothered with a potential of war with our neighbors.”
Amelia smiled across from him, “The citizens of the Arogal are in good hands. The High Council will do fine ruling in your stead, we shouldn’t be more than three months at most.”
“Yes, it is not our country which worries me, it is the savages to whom we go which give me discomfort and doubt. I have not met these men before, but despite my doubts, I am interested in meeting them for myself.”
Soon his company arrived at the outskirts of Dojasu. They passed by the great tents of the House Farrow to which Ikor commented upon the surprising nature of their elegance while simultaneously displaying his distaste at the fact that these cloth constructs may well be their usual hearth. “No stone, no gold. A strong wind could abolish such a people as they,” He said with contempt, raising a hand to Amelia as she sought to retort, but stifling her words at the king’s behest. They marched through the doors of Dojasu and rode swiftly on in anticipation to meet their hosts.
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P1 D2
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 1
Population - 2
The journey was completed without incident when they finally arrived at the northern border and pushed beyond into the lands of Assisor. Ikor looked back, watching as his lands faded into the distance with a grimace. He was sure of the capabilities of his high council to rule in his absence, though the feeling left the taste of char in his mouth. He smacked his lips.
“Excellency?” Amelia asked, seated across from him in the cushioned carriage of nobility.
“Hmm?” He responded without moving his head from the rear window facing his country to the south, “It has been a long time since I have ventured from our home.” He paused with a sigh, moving his eyes to Amelia who did not yet respond, “I should hope these talks of peace are fruitful. We must be allowed to quell all doubt within our own borders before we can be bothered with a potential of war with our neighbors.”
Amelia smiled across from him, “The citizens of the Arogal are in good hands. The High Council will do fine ruling in your stead, we shouldn’t be more than three months at most.”
“Yes, it is not our country which worries me, it is the savages to whom we go which give me discomfort and doubt. I have not met these men before, but despite my doubts, I am interested in meeting them for myself.”
Soon his company arrived at the outskirts of Dojasu. They passed by the great tents of the House Farrow to which Ikor commented upon the surprising nature of their elegance while simultaneously displaying his distaste at the fact that these cloth constructs may well be their usual hearth. “No stone, no gold. A strong wind could abolish such a people as they,” He said with contempt, raising a hand to Amelia as she sought to retort, but stifling her words at the king’s behest. They marched through the doors of Dojasu and rode swiftly on in anticipation to meet their hosts.
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P1 D2
Wood - 2
Stone - 2
Metal - 2
Food - 1
Population - 2
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Soviet Panda
Red Panda Commanda.
The storm hit the lands under the control of House Uros like it had so many others. It ripped away shingling from homes, occasionally the roof as well. Trees were toppled over in the mighty wind. Whole fields were laid flat. And then came the rain. Driving down onto the land. It turned unpaved streets into muddy messes. Homes with leaks were having to bail out the water using buckets, and even cups in some cases. But soon, the clouds passed. The rain stopped and the wind let up. And, eventually, the sun shone through the clouds, seemingly brighter, as if trying to make up for lost time.
This storm caused damage to some fortifications as well, which needed to be repaired. The Council debated, as was to be expected, about which should be done first. It was decided that the border fortifications should be repaired first, slowly working their way in to their city.
Master Crane's journey to the capital was also delayed because of this storm, and was more then happy to hurry on his way. He refused to be the last one to arrive at this event, simply refused. Not only was it rude to arrive late, but it would be embarrassing to arrive late to the meeting hosted by their king. And that simply would not do.
P1D1
Wood; 2
Stone;2
Metal;2
Food;2
This storm caused damage to some fortifications as well, which needed to be repaired. The Council debated, as was to be expected, about which should be done first. It was decided that the border fortifications should be repaired first, slowly working their way in to their city.
Master Crane's journey to the capital was also delayed because of this storm, and was more then happy to hurry on his way. He refused to be the last one to arrive at this event, simply refused. Not only was it rude to arrive late, but it would be embarrassing to arrive late to the meeting hosted by their king. And that simply would not do.
P1D1
Wood; 2
Stone;2
Metal;2
Food;2