"Lost Continent: Flight From Muurdaan" (BeckonCall's FNB!)

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon Prince Vaethorion :

A central banking entity cannot exist without a designated bank building -- so while tracking of finances and assessment of wealth continues, The bank as a real entity remains an idea. It would also be important, considering the colony's dependence on Tyren Silver SpiralErrant , that the Tyren be asked to assist with backing Colonial Scrip or basic trade arrangement with a supply of physical silver -- otherwise Attolians and Highborn would need to invest 3 wealth total to make sure the bank remained fluid in function. It also requires a building to be selected or constructed for the purpose.

 

[Beckoncall]

@Tori_98 Heyitsjiwon :

"Once they arrived at the edge of the wood, Charlotte told her men to wait. She'd go alone with Cassandra, for there was no need to risk so many lives."

Cassandra walked to the left of charlotte, keeping her footing steady with the tall haft of the Skull-topped-staff, Bloodscourge. Slightly shorter but with not less poise and posture was none other than the brave princess Charlotte... Cassandra waved her staff and a wind parted the foliage barring Charlotte's way into the wood... Charlotte ignored the red magic and made her own way into the wood, with cassandra comfortably gliding along parting a way for herself as the proud princess, in true Reinen Fashion, made her own way.

In minutes they could no longer see nor hear the river behind them, nor the men in their boats... Cassandra warned Charlotte that it would be senseless to turn back now -- though they had yet to see a wisp, the haunted woods had them... and they would only be leaving after their encounter with the witch... the hunt was on...

"Do you see that?" Cassandra said, as a green wave of the witch moved deeper into the wood.

"Yes!" Charlotte answered, seeing the silvery waif, the image of the maiden, as it too ran deeper into the wood.

The lament of the Maiden and Witch:


They picked up the pace... This was the Wicked Spirit's game, of course -- Wisps gathered behind them, and Cassandra would wave them off. Charlotte would trip and tear her garments on the thorny wood and dead branches, and she'd swear she'd walked this way before, but pressed onward...

Cassandra guided them past the real loops in the wood, and reassured Charlotte that her instincts were right -- that which looked familiar was the only way to the center. Wisps began to buzz and dart to draw them from their course, but they each chased their own spirit -- with Cassandra pursuing the Green and Ghostly haggard form, and Charlotte the running maiden. The witch seemed to taunt and beckon, with one eye gazing wide, and beckoning with the four fingered hand of naked bones. The maiden spirit seemed in opposition, and it was the determines Charlotte that chased the girl's spirit, where the Witch taunted and dared Cassandra to pursue.

They penetrated into the glades of the dead -- the strangling bones, the bodies of mouldering muurdain soldiers who must have died in this wood centuries ago, and the bodies of gnolls and elves that came after them... of orcs who killed each other as brothers when they could not escape the wood...

...And they pressed on...

"The Game"


...And played the twisted game of the spirits -- Cassandra was beyond such cantrips and the bones of the dead held no secrets for her... Charlotte, she instead was shielded by her faith... The lord of purity would guide, the Lord of purity would protect...

They would not have to play long -- Cassandra called Charlotte away from the wrong path once or twice, another time Cassandra lost her spirit and it became clear they were chasing two sides of the same apparition -- and with this realization they found the clearing of the barrow of wood.

The wisps all appeared from the woods in all directions, and indeed hovered overhead, in numbers that confused and conspired to hide the star filled sky itself. They coalesced into black beasts of shadow and the voice of the hideous witch began to cackle.

...The barrow was open, and for the first time the Seer Cassandra and Charlotte saw both spirits at once. Then the Ghost of the Witch Pushed the maiden into the barrow and slammed the door.

"You shall die here -- did you think a mere ring and a bone were enough to stop me? The spirit of every gnoll in this wood will DEVOUR YOU!"

And the twisted melange of ghostly jaws snapped all around them... Cassandra Shook her head, and her hair pinned up at the modest length of her previous mortal existence fell in great red curls like waves of blood... at the same time she locked eyes with bloodscourge, which in wordless reply sprouted the magical blade of a scythe to combat the oncoming wave. The growls grew closer, and charlotte released the bunting on her outer gown and allowed it to fall to the ground... beneath it, the weapons of her people, three belts crowded with pistols and the rapier of a Defender of the faith.

"Two fight as one, Scythe and Pistol, lead and steel"


They stood back to back... any moment now, a vicious battle was at hand. when the last of the wisps merged into a blackened and toothy horror -- they in unison lunged upon the Seer and the Princess... Red and Gold standing pure against the Black...

Claws flashed, great beasts leaped and snarled, held at bay by rapier or a wave of cassandras hand.

One by one Charlotte's flintlocks blazed, and fell upon the ground like a rain about her. Back to back it blurred where the scythe did it's work and the gun meted out it's own justice, where cassandra's blind fury and charlotte's measured footwork lay beast, or bullet, or pistol, or slavering head and limb all about on the ground...

...And still they came... with every dark beast struck asunder, it seemed another bounded from the wood to replace it. Cassandra eviscerated foe after foe and charlotte more than once placed a piercing thrust in an opportunistic fiend that sought to separate them, or to pull Cassandra away.

Minutes passed... the guns on Charlottes belt were few. The red glow of Bloodscourge dimmed as Cassandra's spells and Charlotte's faith were pushed to their limits... the one eye of the witch seemed to hover at the barrow's mouth... why were they not dead? Cassandra's gums were bleeding, her EYES were bleeding, and her breath was heavy. The youth in Charlotte kept her breath, but fear was rising in her. The beasts looked to one another and rallied their confidence... Cassandra would fall soon --

and the moment she did they would RIP THE PRINCESS ASUNDER.

That is when Charlotte's last pistol was raised, and she dropped her rapier -- from under her belts she pulled forth a holy book, and held it up in one hand while the other pointed the pistol at the crowd descending upon them...

The book beamed in a opalescent glow as Charlotte's silently mouthed the prayers and incantations of purity and redemption.

She fired her Flintlock, and then fired it again. It would not run out of ammo, for from the barrel of that gun issued her boundless faith and love for her lord. Her silver bolts TORE the black beasts off of their feet and sent them tumbling into the brush, and not wasting the moment, Cassandra moved in a circle around her making sure not only to keep killing more than her share, but to make sure all but one attacker was denied access to the princess -- always the the one before her, the one invariably smashed moments later by the might of Charlotte's faith.

In seconds that seemed to drag like ages, in time measured in the falling of a drop of blood or the crunching of a leaf, it felt like a whole war was being fought. All around them countless black beasts fell, and dissolved in green mist as they were progressively destroyed. Cassandra panted and bled under wounds that finally began to mount, and Charlotte fired her "empty" pistol ever faster at ever more targets until their hope for victory almost faltered... almost.

With Cassandra fighting on her knees, held up only by her staff wedged against the unholy earth, and charlotte's sweat threatening to burn her eyes shut and cause her book to slip from her hands, the final beast was slain. Cassandra was drawing all the energy she had from the staff now... and her seer's vision began to cloud... she would soon lose consciousness...

"The Ring, Seer!" cried charlotte --

"It's time! Give me the Ring!"

Cassandra reached into the folds of her robe and upon releasing the staff, fell face-down into the dirt, holding the bony finger, and ring together, upward in cupped hands, for Charlotte to take. Bloodscourge clattered dimly to the ground beside her and the red blade and light fell with it.

Charlotte looked at the destroyed pistol she used as a conduit for her holy intent and righteous might... and dropped it in favor of the ghostly little charm Cassandra faded from consciousness offering to her.

There was almost nothing left of the Green Witch now -- a part of her vanished with every shadow they banished. In her place, the vibrant glow, like a moon or star, of the frightened maiden. Charlotte watched the white spirit, as it shared the last moments before it's corruption and revealed the origin of the ghost-witch...

Four Elven Maidens... Three Corrupted... the images danced in her mind as they did before her eyes. They were spoils of a dark bargain -- to be the eternal wives of the horned one... in exchange -- this demon would allow the elves and humans that stood bare and panicked in the face of "the cull", to survive, after a fashion. Three of the sisters went willingly, in depravity or in resignation, and bore their rings for the horned one -- but she would not -- she COULD not... and she swore that neither the demon, nor what her people had become, would have her complicit.

It was here the Horned one himself had tracked the maiden -- and here he once more placed the ring on her finger -- the ring she had thrown to the ground each time before. This time, The insubstantial form of the horned one slipped the band upon her hand and in the same motion -- BIT THE FINGER THAT BORE IT AND FLUNG IT AWAY INTO THE WOOD.

"If your body will not bear my ring and be wed -- then so it must be with your lost soul, lost starting TONIGHT!"

The next strikes were even quicker, and final -- the great jaws struck her side as she still processed the maiming of her hand, and the amorphous demon then cleaved her skull with it's jaws. In the motion of two hands, one rose up the mausoleum of wood and the other pushed the corpse of his ne'er-be bride into it's tomb. She could never take the ring off now...

...But now she could. The maiden, liberating Charlotte of the vision, reached out with her four-fingered hand, and Charlotte placed the finger to the ghost and it melted into ether that restored the transluscent hand of the restless spirit.

The maiden's ghost smiled now. and held her other hand out to the knowing Charlotte --

She gave the ring to the spirit of the girl who'd become the witch of wisp-wood -- and upon slipping the ring upon her finger, she took it off one more time... and cast it into the sky where it would never come down again... she rejected her unholy union with the beast, and her soul, cleansed of the darkness that lay disembowled and dissolving all around them in the clearing... the maiden spirit faded away... pure, joyous, supplicant, repentant, ascendant... and then gone.

The mausoleum of wood faded into the earth, decaying into moss and then soil with it's contents never to be disturbed again.

Cassandra came to her feet again leaning on her staff, and while Charlotte would not stand on that side of her, the princess helped bear the exhausted seer, witch herself or not, out of the wood with her...

...It took but moments to arrive again at the river.

In the days that followed, it became clear that gnolls and mud-elves gave at least a small area of the newly liberated wisp-wood a wide berth -- whatever the change, they knew not to trust it, and to well fear the area. Even in the coming week when the dead wood began to sprout again, pink cherry blossoms blooming unseasonably in the fall -- and bearing heavy with sweet fruit that the tempted the Reinen and indeed all the colonists as if a reward and peace offering.

(NEW COMMODITY AVAILABLE: "Ever-year Cherries" (they will grow in every season, regardless of weather or cold)

The riverbed too, the whole length of it, bloomed in flowers of so many colors, until the bees were so heavy with pollen they looked drunk in their bobbing forage-flights.

They had won. The wisp-wood was no more!

(+2 influence Attolia, +3 influence Reinen!)

 

[Enemy Standoo]

Spoiler: Music

The beacon is lit!

The tower had risen! The great white lighthouse that represented the foundations their chapter would build upon and the values they strove to spread was up, after so many days Elien had lost count yet the wait and watching their humble piling of stone grow by each sunset into this proud and mighty spire filled her with the warmth and vigor that only faith could bring. This had been the right place to build it, one could walk along the cliff side and enjoy the sea air while enjoying the constant marker of the pristine white peak and the stained glass that caught the light like a flickering rainbow, only to reach it properly and find its powerful form reaching deeper and stronger than it appeared. The view from the ground was even more impressive, as the lighthouse seemed to grow from the rock face and plant itself into nature just as its designers had foreseen.

Inside was just as glorious in many a zealot's opinion. A garrison chapel had been formed and the beginnings of a meager library which though small now many eager squires whispered of earning their spurs by discovering some new exotic creature or artifact of this unnamed land to add to its shelves. Within the lighthouse's zenith and the chamber that housed its future pyre was like a chapel in itself, a carved monument to the order's faith and Victoria's grace. It seemed all memory of the less savory builders had been erased upon the day of lighting. Elien herself held out some hope that the beasts and malcontents of this colony would yet see the light and change their ways to walk a better path. All they needed was the light to guide the way.

And so a light they would have! Sir Benison had carved out the righteous spot upon the pyre plinth and it was with solemn care that Elien drew the tear of flames from its keeping, kneeling in prayer to place this humble offering into the service of the saints. All in the colony had been told of this day and beyond these walls passersby and true faithful would stop to look upon the tower on its day of lighting. Oh but withing the lighthouse and this chamber none could enter save the champions of the order, the doors held guard by the grim faced devout. Sir Sancroix and the high Cannonate Curoi led the monks in a choir that rang through the halls and reached out into the streets as if the tower itself gave out its hearty hymn.

Be still for the power of the saint
Is moving in this place
She comes to cleanse and heal
To minister her grace
No work too hard for her
In faith receive from her
Be still for the power of the lady
Is moving in this place
Be still for the glory of the saints
Is all around you now

The tear was fitted, the beacon was lit, their faith ignited, their purpose restored.

GLORY TO VICTORIA! GLORY TO THE SAINTS! PRAISE THEIR WORK AND MARVEL FOR THEIR LIGHT! THROUGH THEM WE ARE GUIDED BEFORE THEM MADE WHOLE!

THE LADY FORGIVES, THE LADY REDEEMS, THE LADY EMBOLDENS, THE LADY IGNITES THE FRAILEST OF HEARTS!

(The finished lighthouse is lit and its beacon is enhanced by the tear of fire that is placed in a carved slot on the fire's plinth)

In faith we serve, in life we serve.

Ord Cannoness Isabella Nazio was a woman getting on in her years. In youth she had serves as a champion among the devout, a one woman hammer against the forces of decay and corruption. Once she had earned her spurs she dedicated her learning not to matters of art or civic development like so many knight but to the sword. To her the cleansing fire faith was a thing to burn all that stood against it, that a knight is better served being the sword of the righteous than a shield for the meek. Over the course of her illustrious career she had earned the title of "Ord, The keeper of order" and had serves as a Field-Marshall among her fellow knights, for though they recognised no military ranks many had looked to Isabella their leader and champion upon the battlefield. Her knowledge of tactics and the ways of weapons had lead to the reaffirming of many a regiment of devout and the bettering of squires.

This was her task today as the sun kissed woman with a streak of grey through her ebony hair walked along the lines of the constables and colony militia, looking upon these criminals and killers as a dance instructor haughtily looks upon her girls. Her hawk like features straining with disapproval. "You are freshly equipped I see. Well I shall soon teach you that steel does not maketh man, you shall prove yourselves worthy of this position and you shall learn the weight of the duty you carry upon both body and soul. We shall begin with laps, you will earn your right to spar!" She smacked at the legs of her recruits with a wooden practice sword and soon drove them before her like sheep before the wolf.

(Cannoness Isabella Nazio is given on loan to train up the platz police force. Skill counts as very skilled drillmaster)

Sir Abel continued to put his lust for the musical arts to good use. The war for the soul of these colonists had begun at the blood fountain and it was time for the Victorian counter attack. Their first attempt would not be the brazen and sinful affair of the Reinen, marching into town like a circus, their would be the subtle approach of the slow moving knife that passes the shield. Sir Abel took up his post in the tavern, forming a rota of performances with the highborn bard. He would remind the Attolian workers of their homeland with his native songs and work the upbeat magic he had upon the ship. His songs of praise would not be the sweeping affairs of the choir but the toe-tapping songs of a country wanderer. His songs would speak of Victoria's brightest adventures and of the past deeds of great knights who had come to the aid of the poor and wretched, who in faith had stood against demons and won.

(Sir Abel Sancroix begins regularly performing at the inn as part of a low key effort to spread the faith and win over the nonreligious public. Skill counts as Skilled bard)

Meanwhile at the blood fountain itself two grim faced priests inspected the structure with light in the eyes and venomous disdain in their hearts. The Reinen may have been a simple band of farmer hiding from the storms of the season behind a pagan deity of corn or whatever such people held dear by they were right about one thing. This fountain was an abomination and the fact that a member of the nobility had placed such support behind a demonic entity that had been seen to take blood and human sacrifices spoke of the corruption that had taken root at the heart of this colony.

Yet let not the crusader rush foolishly to his foes embrace, for faith is light that must guide and not blind. These were good watch words for those that hunted the shadows and the words that had brought brothers Sulthus Curoi and Onri Ghol to the square today. These two were perhaps the highest ranking of the cannonates and both stirred and air of apprehension in the passing colonists as they went about their business. The former was a dour looking old man, his eyes in a permenant look of sorrow and his face drooping with age yet his robes and his aura spoke of faith made manifest, a light both warm and welcoming and yet intimidating and severe in its sternness. The other was younger and walked like a man of good health, yet his skin shone with an almost translucent pallor, his ashen robes made him look like an extension of his own shadow and his eyes, though friendly, warned of hidden depth and pains.

These two more than any other of the chapter knew faith, for they wielded it like a tool, like a weapon. Both had known horrors and today they met a fresh one. For their chapter master had sent them to inspect this fountain, to see if their was a way to exorcise the malicious being that haunted it and to report back. If it could be done then they were under strict instructions to report back to the chapter before proceeding, this blood demon clearly had a following and the devout could yet be needed in its cleansing.

(Sulthus Curoi and Onri Ghol are sent to inspect the blood fountain. Skill counts as High Cleric and Minor cleric/mage respectively)

Deals struck lest ye be devils
Beckoncall

"Very well. All evidence points to your crew having no hand in the riot's consequences. Leave this port in good faith."

It stung Elien to let the smuggler ship go so easily but the chapter's forces were too few in number to risk a tightly packed charge against gunpowder weaponry and the local constabulary were too hard pressed by the chaos that was erupting in the city to be of much help. Her advisers had been right, this colony was a powder keg waiting to go up. It was decided that the chapter would focus its efforts on issues closer to home and should these smugglers prove good to their word and send kind word of the chapter out to their partners it would only serve the chapter to have friends in the unseen trade routes of the sea. The smugglers were free to leave.

In the meantime the slaver ship was relenting more easily. The contents they found pointed to a depraved sexual mind on the parts of their former employers and some discrepancies in their books but none of it illuminated them to anything beyond low level corruption or bad book keeping. If there were signs of Underlord politics involved in this vessel then they were not to be found here. Sir Ravalla was given leave to question the willing crew for appearances sake and Sir Magda was allowed one more sweep of the ship for hidden compartments with some help. Perhaps they'd turn something up or find leverage to confiscate the remaining slaves or goods. For now it looked as if that was the best Elien could hope for.

(Sir Ravalla - skilled lawyer/ Sir Magda - skilled sailor/ 5 squires/ 5 monks are given the task of questioning the slave ship crew and conducting a final sweep of the vessel)

Then there were the minotaurs. They'd come soon enough to call for their promised favour and just as they said before they asked for Sir Tarkus. The grizzled knight grumbled to no end about the indignity of working for the beasts and how he had been given such little time for meditation but the deal stood. This Orm had a facination with getting his people to learn masonry and would not be dissuaded. However Elien would once she learned the scope of what it was he was asking and heard news of this renovation going on in the hills.

"Master Orm you cannot expect me to give away one of my best builders for so long when our chapter is yet to even open a public church on our lands." She went on to protest and the tyren went on to haggle and to moan that they were trying to build water silos and some salt water habitat for a creature called Anais.

An aboleth? Elien seemed to recall word of such things in the citadel library. Victoria's village had often been plagued by deep ones and the salt water devils played a frequent role in scripture. Now these savages said they had found one in its infant form and that it looked for refuge in their hills. That it had parted from its masters and offered the services of a historian and translator! This was too much of an opportunity for Elien and their librarians to pass up, they haggled for a solid afternoon with the tyren over the terms of their service and what would be given. Neither side had any currency they were willing to part with but in the end both were willing to trade in knowledge and jewels. They managed to squeeze some of the quarts stone the slavers had brought on top of that, something that would please Sir Benison to no end as he worked away in the lighthouse. Two delegations were sent out, one to the hills and one to the beach. The monks were practically salivating at the thought of penning their chapter's first major tome of knowledge.

Behind the closed doors of the monastery they gave it the working title of: Monstrum Aqua, Interview with the Aboleth.

(The Order is given 1 unit of quartz crystals by the tyren in exchange for further services by a cannonate. Sir Benison - Skilled Jeweler/5 squires/ cut the quartz into lenses to further enhance the lens system in the lighthouse.)

(Sir Tarkus - Skilled Mason/ 1 Cannonate - Very skilled cooper/ 10 squires/ 5 monks are sent to the tyren settlement to help with construction. Their primary tasks are to aid in the building of a water silo to be used in case of fires and to help design a pool or den for the Aboleth)

(Sir Crofter- skilled printer/Sir Bruford - skilled linguist/ 1 Cannonate - Archivist/ 5 monks are sent to speak with Anais on the beach to learn and write its history and that of the aboleth in the new world for the first major addition to their library)

Finally there was the church to see to. The chapter already had its own garrison chapel but that was behind gates and secure walls, it was not a place for the ordinary man to step. If the faith and the order's power were to spread then they would have to mark themselves out and Elien had plans for this to serve as far more than a humble chapel. Tarkus was away for now but she had her own training and other skilled builders to call upon. Even if it took longer than usual but they could make a strong start. In time they would have a house of worship that would put the hut the dragon worshipers frequented to shame.

(Elien - Architect/Sir Prisha - skilled engineer/Sir Kinsey - skilled metalworker/ 1 cannonate - very skilled artist/ 55 squires/ 20 monks begin construction of a Victorian church in the Marketplatz)

 

[Spacekitty]

That's What Friends Are For!
Railun heaved a shuddering sigh, wiping his clammy hands on the front of his dirt covered tunic as he looked about the Platz nervously. Small beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and his body convulsed in small tremors. He just had a small cold, he told his friends. Nothing to worry about. He was just going to head down to the tavern to drink it away. Then he would be back to his good old self in time to help real in the day’s catch down at the shark holes. In reality he was fine, or at least it wasn’t sickness that ailed him…

It was, as usual, another busy day on the Platz. The rapidly approaching onset of fall brought cooling winds from the north that battled summer heat waves that blasted the colony from the south. Dots of small puffy clouds blew across the sky over head, one occasionally was pass over the hot sun, dimming it’s rays for just a moment and casting a fleeting shadow over the markets. It was neither hot nor cold as a result of all this- the perfect whether to attract large and bustling crowds. The Platz was like a melting pot, where people of all races mixed about. Tyren merchants argued with much smaller Attollians over the price of cigars in the market place, big beastly lizard men were under going “Do not eat the instructor please” training in the learning square and the sounds of drunken laughter and the clinking of glass mugs emanated from the tavern.

Railun stood off to the side of it all, just south of the tavern. He looked glancingly from it, to the grounds and finally to the scroll he had stuffed into his trowsers and back uneasily, wiping his incessantly clammy hands repeatedly. He used his right hand to adjust his collar while his left toyed with a small bronze ring,flipping it over endlessly in an unconscious movement. The note in his pocket felt surprisingly heavy and large, bringing him to worry that it would be noticeable to even the casual observer. Yet no matter how many times he looked down to check on it it was still neatly tucked and hidden away.

He pressed his hands against his face and took a deep breath. Slapping himself as if to wake himself (which brought some odd looks from those around him) he shook his head and set off determinedly, his movements rigged and forced. He approached the thatch roofed tavern, pausing just a moment in the entrance way before forcing himself inside.

Standing there with the bright sun emanating from behind him casting him in a sort of yellow glow, he could feel bile rise from his stomach, which he forced down with a gulp. After calming his thundering heart he took a glance around the room. The bar was filled with noisy patrons who ignored the exile fisherman, many sat in makeshift tables spread across the room and pushed up against the cobbled half walls, downing mugs of yellow nectar. A few shady looking men played cards in one of the back booths, their eyes darting suspiciously between their opponents and their cards as they sipped dark ale. One raised the ante, another folded.

In the very back corner, where the flickering yellow light from torches and lanterns couldn’t seem to pierce the darkness was a small table tucked away in the shadows. Only one side of the table was visible, a full mug of fine cherry ale that reflected the dim lighting and an empty chair waiting for it’s patron. From here Railun could just make out the hint of a cloaked figure on the other side.

Reaching into his pocket to grasp the note, he approached the table, looking around at the other patrons who completely ignored the scene as he pulled out the chair and sat down. Despite having closed the distance the figure seemed just as hidden as ever, as if it wore a palpable veil of darkness. Placing the note on the table, he pushed it towards the figure. A clawed, black gloved hand reached out from the darkness, snatching the list so fast the Exile’s eyes could barely register the movement..

The note had been simple and short. Just a list of names. Some constables, some fisherman, all exiles, all affiliated with the Coppersmiths. Railun was taking a big risk by turning on his master… but any criminal’s loyalties are as deep as their lord’s pockets. And as such, when one with deeper pockets appears, loyalties can shift quite quickly.

Railun took a sip of the ale- or tried too, as the mug shaked violently in his hands, sending golden-red spray across the table. “Uh, my reward…?” He asked tentatively.

He swore he could almost see the shadow smile. “Of course… there is just one more thing I need for you and your full reward will be yours…” it replied purringly.

Railun cursed. “I thought you said you just wanted the names!” He slammed the mug down on the table, drawing sideways glances from other patrons. “I got you your names, now give me pay”.

The shadow chuckled. “I said the names, and something else, a task I will provide you the tools for. Here… take this”.

A knife slid to Railun’s side of the table, spinning slowly and stopping with the hilt just above his hand. A note was attached by a string to the handle.

“Complete the task and whole payment will be yours. Do not worry about getting caught. We have already taken care of that.”

Before Railun could reply, a brown coin purse came hurtling from the darkness, hitting the exile square in the chest and bouncing off onto the floor. Railun instinctively grunted and leaned down to pick up the purse. When he sat back up the cloaked figure was seemingly gone. Only a cream colored hair on the table was evidence of his ever being there.

He crused to himself once more. He knew this had been too easy… He shoouldn’t have taken the deal… Heck, he should just take the half and be done with it. It was a hefty sum regardless, more than enough for one man to drink the nights away. Although, somehow he knew not accepting the mission wasn’t an offer…

Determined to get it over with, Railun stepped outside of the tavern, shielding his eyes in preparation for the blinding light as he re-entered the world. Only it never came. Rather than bright sun he was met with a dim moody sky and gusts of cold wind. He hugged his grey ragged coat around him to fend off the coming storm, tucking the knife inside.

The note contained two simple names… targets rather. Both were constables, fellow exiles and puppets in Sorkin’s gang. He knew the two personally, they had spent time together on the long journey over all those months ago. But it didn’t matter now, Railun thought to himself, weighing the coins in his hand.

***

“Guards! Guards! Help!” A distressed voice shouted from somewhere below the docks

The two constables on duty near the docks looked at each other. Kraiv, the leader of the two, lifted his club and charged towards the source of the sound, his friend armed with knife in close pursuit.

“Thief! Help!” The voice called again followed by what sounded like the clash of metal on metal.

“Hold on! We’re coming!” Kraiv shouted back, jumping down between two of the piers, landing in the shallow muddy water of the shore with a wet splash, spraying his friend behind him whose jump in return sprayed him. Boots and legs covered in mud the pair ducked underneath the pier into the darkness.

“Hey, where are ya? You alright?” Kraiv called, squinting in the darkness, unable to make out anything.

“Hey Ovick, you got a torch or something’? He asked, turning towards his comrade.

Ovick shook his head, a movement that was lost in the darkness.

“You deaf? Light bud. Got one?” He repeated.

Ovick shook his head once more.

“I don’t got for this shit, TORCH, DO YOU HAVE A TORCH” He basically screamed at his friend.

“I shook my head two times! I don got anything!” Ovick shouted back.

Kraiv turned to his friend and paused for a moment with the kind of look you give someone when they do something so stupid. Sadly in the darkness it was lost on Ovick, who merely stared back without understanding. Kraiv shook his head, muttering to himself and pushing deeper into the darkness.

“Hello, you ok bud?” He called as he went deeper. How far did this thing go? He thought to himself just as he smashed against the cold wet dirt the was the back wall of beneath the pier. He groaned and did his best to brush himself off, at least until his friend ran into him from behind and pushed him back against the wall and into the murky water below that surged with every wave. It was low tide right now so the water was low, but by mid day this place would be swelling to the brim.

“Watch where you're going!” He said angrily, pushing his friend in return. He grumbled to himself and looked around. Something wasn’t right… where was the voice?

“C’mon… I don’t like this… let’s get out of here” he began to say just as he felt cold steel press against his back. He could feel a cold force pierce him between the 4th and 5th rib, slipping upwards just between them and into his left lung. A surge of warmth flowed up from his lungs. He coughed, or more so weakly wheezed, droplets of blood flying from his mouth. The steel retracted, leaving an empty void in his back that all the heat within him seemed to drain out of. He clutched the hole with one hand, falling to his knees which sloped down in the mud, holding himself up with one arm. He coughed, weak and wet, blood now beginning to flow from his mouth. He began to choke on the bitter metal taste, each wheezing cough weaker and weaker.

Ovick stood just a few feet infront of him, talking to someone who stood behind him. His words sounded muffled and foreign, like he was speaking another language through a wall. The world was getting darker and the ground seemed to be growing closer to him, the cold waters felt almost warm in comparison to himself as they splashed up against him. Just as the darkness closed around his vision he could see Ovick turn and run, a shadow cast figure leaping over and pouncing on his friend, shoving something into the back of Ovick, who let out a muffled cry, his hands convulsing in front of him. His assailant pulled his arm backwards forcefully, something hot and wet splattered against Kraiv’s face as everything faded into the nothingness from which it came…

***

Railun doubled over, breathing heavily as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He dropped the blood covered knife into the shallow waters where it landed with a soft splash. Two bodies lay before him, face down in the murky waters, what remained of their life force spilling into the water beneath the docks.

He reached into his pocket, producing the coin filled purse and smiled. This little thing right here, he thought to himself as he shook it, the silver coins clinking wonderfully together, was his ticket off the docks. He was gunna be a rich man when he got back to the tavern… Wait, the figure had never told him where to meet back up at...

“I’ll take that off your hands” A low voice said behind him.

Railun’s heart leaped and he spun around suddenly, only to be knocked off his feet by a blow to his face. The force of the hit spun him around, causing him to land face first in the water, knocking the air out of him as he spat out blood and slivers of broken teeth. He recovered quickly and attempted to scramble to his feet.

His efforts were returned with another blow to the back of his head that sent him crashing back down to the ground. He groaned, rubbing his bruised skull with his hand. It felt sticky and he could feel blood begin to flow down his back. He turned over in the bloody waters to look up at his assailant, his vision blurred from concussion.

He could see the outline of a large, muscular man standing over top of him, hold a long, three pronged object.

“Har-- Harud” Railun sputtered, coughing on blood. Harud was a local shark fisher, a damn good one at that. Before the journey he had been a common criminal like the rest of them, although he had a nasty reputation. But they were friends,..

The figure said nothing, simply standing motionless for a second before finally replying.

“Sorry friend… the boss don't like loose ends.” With this final note he tossed his harpoon into his right hand, swinging it upside down and grasping it in preparation for a two hand thrust.

“Harud… friend… please!” Railun begged. He could only stare wide eyed as Harud thrust downwards, the three prongs piercing the center of his stomach. An explosion of blood blew forth from Railun’s mouth and his head flew backwards. By time Harud could rip the harpoon back out of his victim, he was already dead.

But just before Railun’s eyes closed for the final time, he could swear he saw a cloaked figure duck into the shadows, two long ears poking through it’s cloak...

[[DELEGATE SENT TO TYREN, NO TIME FOR POST SO DM DIPLOMACY STARTED, will mention in main post]]

 

[Beckoncall]

Zaltusinel :

"Jadius and Urun (The Nightbringers) search farther into the vault with one midknight or Caliber.":

The vault was merely two chambers -- and all that could be found beyond expectation was that several, over twenty, of the crystals containing Nylor were yet to open... the souls slumbered within, some noisomely -- and if they hadn't been stirred by the smashing of piston on the outside of the vault, there would be no waking them in the immediate future.
Besides this one last surprise lay in store -- a "Dreamsail" -- a vessel of shape akin to a war canoe, the when righted parallel to the ground would float gently above terra firma. Ryleon remembered scores of these, in all sizes, used by her folk to sail up and down on wind currents or to fall like leaves from a truly monumental tree... then the vision, or memory, left her. The Dreamsail might be useful...

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

Beckoncall SpiralErrant Enemy Standoo Heyitsjiwon

Murder in the Colony merit the need for Justice and order


The news of the murders of various criminals was unsettling to the Prince, but not enough to lose any meditation over it (Highborn did not sleep as it were, but mediated). These were mortal beings of low character and integrity, so their lives had little value. However, the Prince did not like vigilante justice in the Colony. It was a bad precedence and murder. There needed to be a court of justice in the Colony for their to be order. The Highborn being superior in every way including in morality had not much need for judges and courts of law. There were elders of thousands years maturity who could met and judged. There were Mages back home who could read one thoughts, and seers with gifts of prophecy who could predict a crime before it occurred. The human courts were travesties of justice where Men went to lie in front of judges who were bought and sold like a commodity. The lies were turned into truth in the courtrooms of Mortals. Not so among the Elves. Truth was real and immutable. If a person was guilty of a crime, that truth would surface. If a criminal tried to escape justice, a powerful mage could easily smite him from afar or even teleport them if need be to face justice. Justice also was not a simple beheading, torture or imprisonment. Those would be light sentences. The guilty of serious crimes could be put into another dimension where they would suffer eternally. A criminal could have their mind erased, or have permanent waking nightmares, and then there were the “horrors”. One could be horror marked and be pursued endlessly by “horrors”. The thought of the “horrors” was enough to make the Prince shutter. The fear of horrors and eternal suffering, of torture beyond imagination were enough to keep even the most criminal person an honest one. However, Humans and walking animals were simpler creatures and required simpler forms of justice. The Muurdain new how to imprison criminals in other dimensions, but here in the colony there needed to be some mechanism to prevent vigilantes and others from taking matters into their own hands. Therefore, the Prince would suggest forming a Judiciary for the Colony.

- Order: HIGHBORN present the idea of establishing a Court of Law and laws for the Colony. These laws would have to acceptable for all the factions in the Colonial government. A courthouse would need to be built. The idea is presented to Attolians, Victorians and Tyrren. (Murder and theft are the two crimes that must be addressed first.)

A Reply Message to the Tyren The Attolians, and Highborn meet to discuss the Tyren. Later the Tyren are invited to discuss


Prince to Tyren in letter: "Gentle Bull Folk, Our positions on slavery are and were shared. We both objected to the practice and now the once slaves are free. The Highborn have not existed for near eternity without compromise and compromise we shall make.

The location of the a Hall for the Colonial government is itself an issue to be decided by the Colonial government. The Highborn are not opposed to the seat of power to be shifted to what is now called the Learning Square and environs. The main condition for us to agree to this, is that the seat of power is fortified and made to be defensible. It is important that the seat of the Colonial government does not fall into enemy hands. Currently, the learning center is not well defended and is exposed. The Highborn are not interested in telling others what to do or not to do, but are interested in order. When every faction and race act independently and not in conjunction with other colonist, chaos ensues. No faction thus far has existed independently without the help of other colonist. This includes all the Races and factions. The accusations of wanting to control others is false and insulting. Murder and chaos is prevailing in the colony, because of those acting independent and lawless. Walls are not made to “trap ideas”, but to protect them and those who think, speak them. The Highborn are no stranger to ideas or protecting themselves. That said, if the other Colonial factions agree to developing in the area of what is now called the learning Square area into the Seat of power then they accept, on the condition that it is defensible and the Tyren contribute Manpower and resources. As the Highborn saying goes, “strong thick walls, make good neighbors”, so the assistance of security is shared by Attolians and Highborn alike. "
The Highborn agree to equality under the law for the sake of harmony and preservation of the colony, but we will not pretend among ourselves that ALL races are equal. That is not our philosophy, but we agree that equality should be the law of the land for it breeds harmony."

A conversation between Caelis and the Prince:
Caelis: “The area is pretty exposed from all sides. Usually, forts are built along obstacles such as mountains, rivers or ocean and/or high ground.”

Highborn Prince: “Our condition for agreeing to the seat of power is that defenses must be built up around it and that the other members of the colonial government must agree. The Tyrren have valid points and as members they have input. Strategically speaking, the area can be made defensible. The Tyren would need to get over their distaste of walls The River is a natural barrier, the Reinen and Tyrren have settlements to the North west and South West, with enough labor, the area could be raised with dirt and stone. The Road is strategic and not being near long dead is a plus. Also, if the Platz falls, it could be a place to fall back to. Trenches or moats could be built with water brought by irrigation from the river. Ramparts and so on could be erected. These are conditions of the Highborn.”

Caelis: “I'm not particularly fond of the Tyren. Can't think of much that they've been helpful towards the Attolians with while I think I can name a few instances where Attolian action directly saved numerous Tyren and Wood Elf lives. So, if we're trying to accomodate the Tyren's desires, then they've got to accomodate to some of our desires as well.”

Highborn Prince: “The Highborn tolerate the Tyrren, thin they are well meaning, but in truth look down on Animal races. We mean no offense by this, but it is part of our pride. We have learned to be more tolerant. We have seen the the Tyrren have contributed to healing others, have been active contributors to the Colony's well being and have not caused disturbance or disharmony.

Caelis: “For example, We will need Colonial wide access to the mine of vines. We're going to NEED A LOT of stone for this project, so things like that need to be available. Also, most of the labor will likely be from the platz. If the Tyren were willing to finance or provide some silver to start our banking venture, then that would be welcome. Then, there's the Aboleth... I'm very concerned that a being that dangerous is around... we're going to need assurances that it won't harm the colony"



Highborn Prince: “ Agreed, that resources are needed. The Mine of vines is toxic to other races it is not? I think the Tyren would consider some of your requests once they think of us as part of their herd. The Tyren themselves are powerful creatures and can help with the Labor. Other labor sources could be paid for. I think if these were the Attolians conditions they are reasonable. The Tyren have expressed interest in unity and they have a valid point in wanting their to be parity in the location of the government. The Aboleth is another matter."

These concerns were passed on to the Tyren who in effect said this when translated from their language to common and were invited to arbitrate.

Tyren :” First, It's miles from any point where threats have been able to surface in the past and in the middle of all the colonial patrol routes. If “we “add some walls and a guard tower then any threat to the building will be seen coming a mile off with all the signal fires nearby to warn of it.”

“Secondly, If we're all helping to build it then the tyren can offer strong labour, renewable supplies of stone from the mine and treesingsers to mix in the architecture. Then there's the symbolic point since the learners square is a communal area while the platz is pretty much turning into highborn and Attolian territory. The Reinen and Rat people can also benefit from it's central location.”

“Thirdly, As for your own personal dislike that's some uncomfortable wording honestly as it sounds like it blurs the line between what the Attolian prejudices are and the Colonial government official capacity”.

“We may not have spoken much as Races, and we personally, may not have interacted much but Orm has constantly been moving around the platz and talking to the Attolians and Exiles. The Tyren may not have done any thing huge for the Attolians directly but whenever they were able they've been constantly adding their own things to the colony. It's our wool, their meat and at the start, when vegetables, that everyone was eating. The Tyren also founded the language square in a big public gesture to help the colony come together. They'd have been perfectly happy to do some joint works with the Attolians before now since their past issues have cleared over but the Attolians have never shown any interest in someone living outside the platz and you as a individual have never contacted us directly on your own”

“And as for the bank venture and the trade ships I am hoping to get in on those but can't do it until my current actions get processed.”

Caelis: “Wanted to get the consensus out as the Attolians directly helped whenever there was major trouble. Rather, from own volition instead of obligation, but the Tyren so far seem to not be willing to have directly take action. Sure, they have meat and wool in the market, but that's not direct help per say. Much like the Attolians are contributing to the colony as a whole as well. Thus, the mindset, at least of the Attolian leadership, so far is one of discontent in regards to the Tyren since the Tyren seemed to not have shown direct initiative in mutual aid/working together after the Attolians have tried a few times. The Attolian frustration. The gnoll incident, the cliff, and the wood elf poisoning. The Attolians took intiative to make amends and befriend, but to the Attolians it feels like they were given a cold shoulder.”

The Tyren represenative: “The Attolians were invited to join the flag, it was an open invitation to everyone, they just made a point to invite the exiles as the first humans to honor the help they'd offered on the voyage over and since their group had been here longer. As for past joint project attempts the tyren would view joining all the guilds and constantly commuting to the platz as a sign of that. There's usually something pressing going on in the hills and by the time the action's occurs, the human people have moved onto the next thing that's been decided on so it's just easier for the Tyren to carry on with their own projects.”

Highborn Prince: “We will await the Victorian response as they are also members of the Colonial government), we can for now agree on the terms laid out through arbitration. The original suggested location of the Seat of Government for the Colony will instead be turned into a City Hall of Municipal authority. The Platz itself and the Port will be declared a municipality. The borders of which will be defined. Conversely, each Faction's area can have it's own traditions and laws and still be part of the Colony. Within the Platz and elsewhere the various factions can maintain a degree of autonomy. Some overreaching laws (in the Highborn estimate) should be universal like outlawing Slavery, theft, and murder. These things can be discussed.

The actual seat of power for the Colony will be in the area of the Learning square. This allows for harmony among the factions. It will be made to be defensive and all factions will contribute and share resources. It is there that Colony matters will be discussed and grievances resolved. The Learning Square itself can be a place where diplomacy is practiced. The learning square should exist independently from the Seat of Power but nearby in my view.

I envision nearby the seat of power, each faction that is part of the Colonial government can erect a pavilion, an embassy and eventually a permanent structure nearby to house their own delegates, to save time on travel to and fro the Platz and the Tyren Settlement. For important meetings, the highest leaders can meet either periodically or when special events merit it.

First order of events perhaps besides working out defenses and building it, is to increase cooperation among the people/Elves of the Plazt and the Tyren/Elves of the Harum Taras. Clearly, we need to work more together for the best interests of our people and colony.”

Caelis: “in agreeance with the High Born suggestion. The Constitution should serve as a bedrock that is the law of the land. However, each community knows itself the best. Thus, they should have the opportunity to make laws that are appropriate for each community. The Central Seat of Power should be a gathering place to decide Colony Wide matters, and all members of the Colonial Government should have an embassy established there.

Also, may I suggest a shift in focus? All the defenses in the world won't stop the Cull. We must find a way to defeat it while it sleeps, which means we must be on the offensive. I don't think the defenses have to be that extensive yet. A fort should be enough. We don't need to build walls just yet. Instead, we should focus on being able to project force beyond the Colony as the Mud Elves will continue to likely attack us while they live and the Cull can't be stopped by walls.”

The three representatives of their factions all nodded and shook hands, albeit awkwardly.

The Tyren, Highborn, and Attolians all seemed to agree. Much of the tension that had existed, the misgivings, suspicions, the misunderstandings seemed to pass like the sun dissipates the fog. This marked a new chapter in colony relations.

Order summary:

SpiralErrant Enemy Standoo Heyitsjiwon
- A court of justice is presented the Highborn invite ALL members of the Colonial government to join.

-The Tyren, Attolians and Highborn agree for the seat of Colonial power to be near the learning square. The learning square will continue to function as is. The Seat of power would be made defensible and fortified. The Tyren would contribute wealth and Man powe, resources, and the Attolians and Highborn as well. Specifics will be laid out by each faction as to what they contribute.

- The Platz will be declared a Municipality. There will be municipal laws and the original location of the Seat of Colonial power would instead be made into a City Hall and fortified. The laws of the Colony will be overreaching, but the Municipality and each Faction territory would have a degree of autonomy including the Harum Taras, the Attolian District, the Highborn district and the Victorian area. Other factions will receive autonomy and special consideration as they join the colonial government. All races and factions will be treated equal under law. As for now MURDER, SLAVERY, and THEFT is outlawed throughout the colony and by the Colonial government.

- Draftings of a Colonial constitution and frame works for Colonial justice system will be developed jointly

****the Victorians agree to Seat of Power being near learning square ****

((ooc: I wrote this from PM which was half IC and half OCC, I can edit it as need be and even incorporate the Victorian response if desired.))

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

SpiralErrant
Heyitsjiwon
Enemy Standoo
Beckoncall

Additionally: The Highborn and Attolians invite all members of the colonial government to join the Colonial bank

The Highborn offer up to 3 wealth and its best economic mind.

The Highborn request The Tyren to join and to help back the bank with Silver.

The invitation is extended (as discussed previously) to the Tyren Attolians and Victorians.


Order summary: colonial bank is formed. A very defendible, secure location is to be determined and built up. Discussion as to where wealth should be kept, and what protections to be put into place should ensue. Especially to keep known thieves, unknown thieves and races inherently dishonest from stealing, manipulating or corrupting the banking system.

Note: the Attolians, Tyren have verbally agreed to the bank in principle. The specifics of where to house or build the bank has been undecided. First step is to formally agree and to back the bank with finance and silver. Economic systems must be discussed and put into place.

 

[Beckoncall]

UPDATES: Prince Vaethorion

- Prince asks Artificer to develop large cannons for port defense and artillery. Gunpowder would be needed to be manufactured.

Artificer is deeply displeased to be asked to develop non-traditional weaponry without model or blueprint. Produce a cannon? Yes -- but to be a High elf that invents and fabricates their own cannon? -- "Not an honor for me or my family, though I shall comply."

(Highborn want/need plans or outside faction help to design cannons for reasons of morale more than capability -- project progress is so far slow unless Vaethorion "Cracks the whip" or finds black powder using factions to offer expertise (and to assign the unwanted credit)

- The Prince arranges meeting with Leader of the Dwarves to discuss Colony defenses, potential collaboration between two peoples. General Deth Glitch

The dwarves would not be a bad idea to talk to about cannon.

-The Prince orders his spy to sniff out the Coppersmiths. He also orders his Mage to “feel” magically the returned opium that was stole by them to learn about Coppersmiths.

The coppersmiths are effectively extinct as far as you can tell. new player in the depression is "Harud the Attolian" (despite him being a well known exile)

- Prince orders 18 sailors to sail back to Old world as part of joint Colony trade mission. The Prince sends a coded messaged back to his Highborn kin requesting more Highborn, some mounts, supplies and equipment. The Prince gives summary of what has been accomplished thus far.

Expedition will require supplies, and a cargo manifest of anything brought along to sell in the old world. Treasure/goods in the new world will likely be more valuable in the old. It will take approximately a season for a ship to leave and return from the nearest trade hub.

- Tactician asked to make plans to attack Mud elves for retribution. The Highborn offer assistance to kill witch, in exchange for Gunpowder and to join Colonial government. @Tori_98

More scouting is needed to be done in the Mud Elf territory to draw up any realistic plan. A frontal assault however would likely not be expected. They are presently highly engaged with the gnolls.

- Attolians and Highborn begin to flesh out a central bank together.

Seen this in PM -- such conversations should eventually migrate into IC thread.

 

[Beckoncall]

UPDATES: Heyitsjiwon Zaltusinel Prince Vaethorion :

- The Prince orders a party of 30 plus 1 (himself) to intercept the Fennec delegation for a "talk". 15 are accompanying Prince, fifteen are in reserve. The Prince wants to know how the Fennec know who he is, who told them and who else knows?

OOC: Looking forward to products of this exchange as I get caught up.

- Highborn mage sent with a dozen Highborn and linguist to investigate magical disturbance at vault.

With the linguist in presence, Communication with Nylor MIGHT actually be possible. Dance and music will only metaphorically be understood if at all, but their ancient tounge is distantly related enough to "First Tree Elvish" for the Linguist to understand and communicate with their leader and perhaps mages with some difficulty.

 

[Spacekitty]

Prince Vaethorion

The elf moved out of the shadows into the small clearing in the forest, small beams of sunlight filtering through the high pine canopy. It was just enough to allow those gathered to see and make out each other, but just dark enough to cast them in dim shadows. It was the Prince, dressed head to toe in well polished, ornate mithril armor that seemed just as decorative as protective. He was alone, or at least in appearances as he hailed Mr. Mallowthew and his assistants. Although both parties knew this was not so, an elven noble simply doesn’t approach their enemies unaccompanied by a small army of personal body guards. Whether they would show themselves or not was the only question. The Fennecs had an idea of where a few may be, hidden under the low dark green canopy and shadow-cast rocks and moss covered decay. It mattered not however. If the Prince had wanted them dead they would be so already. Intimidation was another thought that passed through Mallowthews mind but it was quickly dismissed. If intimidation was their goal they wouldn’t bother hiding. No, this was clearly precautionary. As if the Prince feared the Fennecs would try something other than deceit. What that was, Mr. Mallowthew could only guess.


The Prince greeted the Fennecs in return with a haughty, all-business tone, although it was clear he meant to be non threatening and even somewhat friendly. He spoke common of course, though he spoke it in a sort of elegant, poetic style, first welcoming, then mocking, warning and finally questioning.


Mr. Mallowthew listened to it all with a silent smile, only taking his eyes off of the Prince for a moment to help his assistants gather their wits and start recording the preemptive meeting. The frightened scribes were slow to recover, too busy mistaking shadows, tree trunks and rocks for elves poised to strike but after some whispering and prodding they came too and opened their briefcases. They wrote furiously, struggling to catch up and even keep pace with the Elven Noble’s flowing tirade of accusations. Finally, when the Prince took his final pause, Mallowthew began his response.


“Thank you for leading the way. I’m sure many do not have the most positive of feelings towards my people. And I apologize for Mr. Salvators absence. He has been sick as of late… rabies we fear”. Whether this was serious or just a jest at the Highborn thoughts of them as animals was not immediately apparent. He continued.


“As second in command and a representative of our superiors, I have full authority needed to conduct this meeting and make agreements on his behalf.”


“And yes, no tricks” He added with a slight sighing smile. “We both know how that went for us last time…”


“As for your questions, Prince.” He said, emphasis on his hidden identity. The Fennecs of course had known who he was since even before the journey. Ironically enough they didn’t know he was trying to hide his identity. They had figured this out quite quickly after some confusion amongst the locals when his true name was mentioned but until they had already sent a letter addressing him as such. FOrtunately there had been ample time for the clever Fennecs to create a believable excuse that didn’t paint them as having almost accepted a kill contract.


“Yes, we know who you are, well the basics of it at least. In truth the knowledge that you are a Highborn Prince is about the extent of what we know. It’s nothing we regard as of much importance, merely a tid bit we picked up on when Drow Elves boarded our ship for a stay until the Admiral kicked them out upon suspicions of them being Assassins. While they were onboard some of our thugs… “peered” in our their conversation and a Highborn Prince was mentioned as being in the colony, which we logically concluded was you. We had no idea your identity was being hidden. As far as I’m aware, only the Officers and a few thugs among us know. Do not worry though, we are good at keeping secrets.


“As far as our intentions and what we know that you may not know we know”. What a mouthful. “We probably know many things that you may not know we know but you may also know many things that we don’t know you know so all works out in the end does it not? But for our intentions, merely to establish an economic foothold in the colony and make ourselves a part of it.”


“Anything else?” Mr. Mallowthew asked simply in return, as if he were being interviewed for a job.

 

[Beckoncall]

UPDATES: SpiralErrant

The new human and elf recruits begin their training under Bruul the war shaman to get the three species used to working together in a fighting team and regiment.

Result: The "Faith of the Rich" mercenaries organically adapt their own style of "Gallogleigh" fighting into a true powerhouse -- A core of Tyren Soldiers, with Tyrenborn long range arrow support and scouting is surrounded by two ranks of mercenary soldiers. The outer rank is a permeable membrane of Spear/Shield bearers, with the second rank sallying forth to throw all manner of missile weapons before making or receiving a charge, as well as to taunt enemy units into facing it. When charged, the second rank falls behind the shields and attacks any who get past the spears.

When charging, the entire formation opens up allowing Tyren to charge with Mercenary infantry forming two "Horns" at the sides the funnel enemies into the line of the chargers. During this charge Tyrenborn archers attempt to soften the enemy front rank or snipe for leaders and champions. From all the drilling, the regiment is quite impressive.


Civic: The bramble gems are charged with mana and placed around the town to work as street lights. The gems used in the luxuries guild are half charged to give them a red glow, almost like rubies.

After these projects, supplies of bramble gems in the community are getting strained -- only the bravest caravaners travel into the swamps to find the gems, having to camp at the swamp until morning and rushing to flee before nightfall with whatever they can find. Tree-singers could be used to try to cultivate bramble-gem on the river, but they are presently too preoccupied with the Ent, Whipporwhil...

An expansion effort is made to make new housing in Hrun'Taras, reaching beyond the glade stockade if needed. 10 skilled tyren, 15 unskilled tyren workers and 30 springborn are put on the job.
They are given stone and clay to work with and make use of the new advances in tree singing arcana to augment the glade and existing longhouses. Any dwellings that are to be made outside of the glade are to be mostly stone in case of fire and the strengthen their defenses as a hard outer shell. As a side job the springborn are to use the new tree singing skills to also help plant flowers around Hrun'Taras and work them into their designs if they can with climbing ivy and flower walls on the stone. Orm has caught wind of people saying the higborn quarter is the most beautiful place in the colony and has taken up the challenge.

Word is spread that Hrun'Taras is looking for new builders and skilled folk. The hill town is expanding and needs more hands but instead of silver they are offering homes to those that will move, be it for work or if they have not made a proper home for themselves by the sea. Race is not an issue in this multicultural town.

5 influence is spent spreading word and advertising to bring in new residents to Hrun'Taras

RESULTS: Tarkus of the St. Victorians arrives and grudgingly, for want of a better term -- BLOWS THE TYRENS MINDS with expertise on how to work stone and built for defence and permanence. Houses are planned to be built at angles as opposed to relation with other houses to deny a broad area of invasion, or if so they face the maximum of stone wall from the sides of houses and not the channels of roads. Enemy Standoo : Tarkus and his assistants show the tyren tools such as "jeweler's chisels" for making clean lines and brick and tile out of substances like quartz, which Tyren are really only good at shattering into managable pieces and buffing with great difficulty if they want to maintain it's full beauty. Tarkus himself is impressed when he sees the quality of such tools made of bull iron, especially in the hands of such great strength.

By the Time Tarkus is done, his skills as a cooper (maker of air and watertight constructions) the Tyren have a new freshwater pool lined with stone and quartz that is fed by the river by way of a small aqueduct -- a beauty even the highborn would acknowledge -- if only the carvings were more impressive. Morale in Harun-Taras skyrockets as new buildings and constructions, with raw living stone, quartz, and wood are married to form artful structures sung together with the first unlocked secrets privvy to the tree-singers.

Lastly, and grudgingly before departing -- "The Flooded longhouse" was built -- a masterpiece by Tarkus' own grudging definition, it was an enclosed "slit-vent" longhouse within the stockade that comfortably kept (via a crude pump) a circulating supply of sea-level salinated water -- fit for the Mysterious Anais T'leth Aboleth. Controlling climate for the water and air in the longhouse was a difficult task however, and the project runs over budget into the realm of (-1 WEALTH POINT TO TYREN)

(OOC: If the Tyren cannot, or wish not to pay this additional amount -- (CONFIRM Y/N!) I will edit this post to scale back it's majesty.

When Tarkus is finally done he has long since wanted to leave but the Craft Wagons make sure no lesson is wasted on them. *They are now Journeyman Stonesmiths* - their brief apprenticeship at the hands of a master was more than enough.

Regarding Housing:

The recently freed slaves, presently held in the Attolian housing district (in more than fair living conditions) are the most enthused about moving, once allowed, to Harun'Taras. They are rightly fearful for their future and the consequences of that fateful night in the 'Platz.

The expenditure of influence does much to neutralize the reputation that the only place for the very wealthiest to live is in the Highborn quarter, but the highborn quarter is closer to where most folk considering relocation reside. It is interesting to note however that Many of the more affluent citizens (attolians and highborn) seek to acquire "country housing" in Harun'Taras which increases commerce and goodwill... The contest is on for which place is more beautiful or covetable, which leads to wealth in the public hands to move to Tyren and Highborn alike.

Prince Vaethorion :

(TYREN AND HIGHBORN FACTIONS GAIN +1 WEALTH AND +1 INFLUENCE AS EACH NEIGHBORHOOD BECOMES COMPETITOR FOR NICEST PLACE TO LIVE. Many Attolians with extra coin seek status housing in each of these areas as well. (Some wealth deducted from market -- Market presently has 4 wealth -- (3 - 2 (real estate) + 3 (banking system) = 4


Heyitsjiwon Enemy Standoo (and everyone):

Attolian influence in the form of propagated moral lessons and play-rhymes begins to shape colonial perspectives on positive ideals. St. Victorians entertain many with stories of bravery righteousness and the wickedness of devils, but do little to win hearts and minds. (Influence helps these initiatives)

RECENT EFFECTS of INFLUENCE: Young minds in colony begin to be shaped slightly by attolian ideals and morals, but subtly. Tyren Advertising attracts well to do exiles and the desires of freed slaves presently held for trail/judgement. Tyren kick off great enthusiasm for living in "Exclusive neighborhoods" around the colony.

 

[Beckoncall]

SpiralErrant :

"The ancient heart at the mine of vines" :

Uumush first found that the vines crawling along the surface of the tunnels recoiled from him -- but when he began the incantations of the Bark-bound tome, and Shul established communication with the (voice? Spirit?) of the mine ... he found it more pliable both around him and to his wishes. The vines, with Uumush's help, grafted to the ancient wood, and some strands, fibers, or whole vines took on a golden hue when the ancient sap ran through them... this was happening faster, more simply, but for the worst less predictably than Ummush, normally so grizzled, had expected. The first logs bonded to knots of vines, and sprouted almost hungry, grasping roots, which sought more vines.

By the eighth log Uumush could guess what the mine was making of the wood -- Golden Trunks, patterned like arteries and ventricles, fed by the capillary vines. The "Wood Vessels" kept grasping for logs from the supply Ummush brought with him, and after a full unit of ancient wood and bark-bound enchantment -- even a fool could tell this was some kind of HEART -- a "HEART-ROOT!"

(-1 unit of ancient wood -- more may be desired spent here!)

The vines... or veins... pumped golden energy through the mine, or seemed to, when it became obvious to ummush that like any heart, it was drawing power just as it was circulating it. 16 great logs made up the entrances and exits to the heart, while the rest of the wagonload formed a very obvious goldenwood heart -- that began to beat with a bass that filled the mine of vines. Uumush had seen much, so was not taken aback by this -- he looked down at his own chest longingly though, and laid his hand on the golden organ, and remembered his own heartbeat... as strong as this magnificent thing, he thought... he was sad when his heart left him.

Still, Ummush could see that the heart wanted... no NEEDED more ancient wood -- this was the buried root of something grand, he was sure, a seed that drew power from the mine yet still need so much more -- Ummush would have to decide if the entirety of ancient wood would have to be surrendered to it so that this "heart-root" could achieve it's potential... or to help decide if what was done was enough and to wait and see what effects may come...

________________

As for Shul, he quickly made contact with the spirit of the mine. It whispered an inquiry to the health of the former miners, and explained that steps to isolate and contain potentially dangerous energies would be made from now on. Shul found the spirit to be shy, but proud, and almost utterly absorbed in it's work... but did his bent to probe around it and see what it was doing...

Upon connection with the spirit he could see that the vines had spent all of summer radiating from the center and winding around various different substances of potential value. The vines, all pulling at once, could drag giant chunks of unspecified or even particular materials back to the center of the mine... and it was only getting stronger with it's new heart. At present he sensed that the mine simply grabbed large structuarally sound bits of hard stone -- and grew knots of wood in it's place once it was pulled free to prevent the silt around it from moving overmuch. This was how near infinite amounts of stone were pouring from the mine, but Shul could TELL this magical facility was capable of so much more.

He saw it as a kind of diagram -- the vines had grown all around the silt behind shearcliffs, and had captured, but not recovered, many different deposits... it looked like an anthill -- and beneath it grew some of the thickest roots that drew moisture from underground rivers atop the shearcliff, and seemingly from a much warmer place deep below. down there vines grew with much more difficulty, but had already "acquired" several small deposits. Shul could tell the mine had a certain amount of strength, but because it was left with such easy tasks for months -- that amount of strength was great indeed.

He also communed with the spirit and Shul saw that the "heart-root" could be utilized with the mine in one of two ways -- if the mine was made to feed the heart -- something great and ancient could be reborn... if the heart was used to feed the mine instead, the mine would only be stronger and able to operate at deeper levels.

Shul attempted to determine what some of the deposits were, but the Heart-root was obviously very distracting, if not rapturous to the network of vines. There was a table with branch levers and knot buttons... but their use was barely divinable by Shul, even with the extent of his experience because the mine grew more incoherent by he moment. Shul could see the lines of the ant-farm in his head in the grain of the wood table, and thin stalks that grew from gnots to various deposits that were entangled.

With it's present strength, Shul Imagined he could pull forth a great deal of one particular mineral or metal, an assortment of deposits from the nearest areas to the center of the mine, or just the smallest samples from the deepest reaches... and he would have to choose quickly before the exaltation of the newly introduced heart overcame the mine, at least until both were meshed into one...

DECISION POINT: Does the "heart" serve the mine, or the mine serve the heart?

DECISION POINT: If anything, what kind of samples does Shul retrieve from the mine?

DECISION POINT: The "Heart root" wants more (effectively all) the ancient wood -- save it or give it what it wants?

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

A Witch's Return

Word had already reached the Platz that the Wisp Woods were cleared, and that it seemingly seemed to become brighter and vibrant. However, despite a full day passing, there was no word or sight of Cassandra returning. This bothered Caelis. They had lost five Constables already. While they were not Attolian citizens and were involved in criminal activity, they were still brothers at arms who fought alongside the Attolians. They were some of the first friends and allies here, and they were taken violently. Lothar had taken it upon himself to deal with the situation and took charge of reforming the soldiers and the Constables and addressing the situation, which Caelis was thankful of. These weeks were busy as winter crept up and the Cull was approaching closer. This time next year, if the Colony did not kill the Cull, then they would all be dead. Caelis was disheartened. He would not allow anymore lives to be senselessly be taken, but it seemed that he may have already failed his vow.

Thus, Caelis mounted his horse and began riding to the east towards the Reinen settlement. His Charger's hooves pounded against the ground in a swift, rapid rhythm that seemingly matched Caelis' fear stricken heart. He feared the worst. He feared that he had sent Cassandra to her death. What was he thinking that Cassandra, that frail young girl who just a few years ago would shiver in fear whenever it rained, could deal with evil spirits and a witch? How did he ever think that this would make any sense... was he no longer capable of making decisions as a Lord in charge of the lives of hundreds? These fears gnawed at his conscious as he made his way to the East. When he finally saw the humble abodes of the Reinen and entered its domains, Caelis quickly dismounted and began searching. No longer could he hear his own footsteps as his heart thundered within his mortal coil.

It was a flash of red in the corner of his eye that brought his heart to a pause. Cassandra stood before him. She had looked like she had walked for weeks, it was not unlike the sight of refugees, narrowly escaping death and exhausted from escaping from its clutches. Cassandra gingerly began to bow before Caelis and her long red curls began to pour from her shoulders. However, Caelis quickly approached her and stopped her in an embrace. "Do not bow to me for I do not deserve it." Caelis softly pleaded. It was to this that Cassandra quietly said "But, you are my Lord. I live to serve yo-" "I am the one who should thank you. You have done all I have asked for and more. Thank you for helping me in realizing my dreams and duties. I am your Lord, and I live to serve you. You who have always been by my side." Silence then fell the area as bystanders simply watched the sudden and bizarre scene.

Caelis would eventually assist Cassandra get into the saddle as she was still weak and needed a day or two of rest to recover. He then turned to the Reinen who had taken care of her after the battle in the forest and said "I hope that the Reinen will seriously consider joining us in the Colonial Government as there is much we can do together. Even then, I hope to continue to develop our friendly relations with each other and that we will continue to help each other in our times of need. While, I wish that I could stay to speak with the Princess, I must return to the Platz as there are urgent issues currently plaguing the Colony. Please give my regards to the Princess, and that I look forward to our next meeting." Caelis mounted his Charger and began the journey back to the platz. The sound of a soft and easy trot that was gently kicking up dust was all that could be heard.

---

Free Men, Dead Men, Working Men

In discussion with other Colonial leaders, Caelis has decided to make it clear what the Attolian stance is. The Freedmen have committed a grave crime that could easily be punishable by death under Muurdaan Law. However, this is not Muurdaan Lands. Thus, Caelis has decided to make it clear that the Freedmen should become indentured servants of the Colonial Government and be put to work on its behalf. However, this is not a perpetual period of servitude. The Freedmen are subject to working on the Colony's behalf until they have provided enough labor to cover the blood gelt of the crime committed. Thus, in Caelis' opinion, this should be a period of 10 years, after which the Freedmen will become citizens of the Colonial Government and have the freedom to move and seek employment at will. Thus, they will become free once more. These rights will extend to their children as well. Until then, the Freedmen will serve the basis of the Colonial Government's growing need for labor, particularly for the construction of the Colonial Capital and the proposed Colonial projects.

However, it should be noted that the legal status of Indentured Servant does not render them without right. Rather they would be given the same rights as Attolian Indentured Servants and generational servants. This means that they are treated as "man" and not property or animal under the law. Some highlights of the rights that Indentured Servants have are:
1. Property: The Servant is to be provided land by the Master so that the Servant has a home to live in (and in fair condition as well). This can be done by having the Freedmen begin their duty by giving a plot of land near the proposed Capital and have them build their own homes so that they may reside in them. This will also mean that these Servants will be the first residents of the Proposed Capital.
2. Legal: Murder of a Servant is equal to the Murder of a Civilian. Under the law, any crimes committed against a Servant can be punished as if the Servant were a Citizen.
3. Life: Servants will be provided for and not denied their Life without Due Process.
4. Education: Servants will be provided education via mandatory courses so that they will not be left unable to understand life in the Colony and their ethical and civic duties.

However, some restrictions do apply to the rights that Indentured Servants have. In terms of criminal prosecution, they are considered to be on probation and may not have certain rights that normal Citizens enjoy.
Caelis seeks the opinions of the other Colonial Leaders in regards to this matter.

---

Songbirds

The Sirens are released from their binds of slavery. However, they must compensate the cost of their freedom. The Sirens are to be bound to a 5 year period of Indentured Servitude before they will be granted Attolian citizenship provided that they display good behavior and Attolian virtues. To this regard, the Sirens will be attending mandatory classes as well. Housing will be provided by the Attolians close to the ocean or other water sources in order to accommodate the Sirens.

---

Strength and Honor

Lothar watched as the last body was finally put into the grave. The five Constables were finally put to rest, and while they were allies of the Attolians. They were criminals as well. Thus, while not given full military honors, the five were put to rest by their brother in arms in modest graves. Regardless, the events that had occurred in the last few days were out of control, and there was a lot of extrajudicial killings. The Exiles had taken measures by themselves to deal with the Coppersmiths. So much so that it was difficult to tell who did what exactly. In fact, he had considered imprisoning the only last known person associated with the Coppersmiths, Harud. He gave a very detailed and convincing testimony that explained his role in all this. There was a lot of money poured into the criminal world from somewhere, and the circumstances made it possible for Harud to take actions to make a bit of money while doing the Colony a service by disrupting the Coppersmiths. Although, they didn't have actual evidence of any of the claims, there was little disputing that the Coppersmiths seemed to have been virtually eliminated, and he seemed to have played a big part in it. Thus, there was little option than to let him go. They understood a bit better what happened in the chaos, but the exact actions that Harud did were unknown. He claimed that he wanted to turn over a new leaf and start over new. Perhaps, starting a shark fishing company or something like that. For now, the Attolians would just have to keep an eye on him, but the crimes in the Depression seemed to have halted overnight thanks to his efforts.

Still, that did not excuse the actions of the Constables. Thus, Lothar called them all together to make it clear. They were not the law. They were the enforcers of the law, and that the next time that such lawless actions took place, then there would be court martials. However, Lothar couldn't blame them. The Constables likely didn't understand much about the balance of power in terms of making laws, judging laws and enforcing them. Hopefully, they would learn from experience and training quickly. It was for this reason that Lothar formed squads that mixed Halberdiers and Constables. No longer would the two operate independently. Rather, they were a joint force that worked together. The Halberdiers knew the law and understood the finer aspects of policing while the Constables knew the gritter aspects of criminality. The two would be able to leverage each other's skills and such situations wouldn't rise again. In fact, the Order was sending a drillmaster to help the Attolian soldiers and police work together and properly train them. Discipline would do everyone some good.

---

Summary:
Caelis visits the Reinen settlement and extends an offer of friendship with the Attolians and asks the Reinen to consider joining the Colonial Government once more.

The Freedmen are suggested to be Indentured Servants of the Colonial Government for a period of time to pay of their societal debts. They will be used to provide labor for Colonial projects.

The Sirens are also made Indentured Servants of the Attolians.

Attolian Halberds and Constables now work together in mixed squads.

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

Beckoncall

To Catch a Thief, hire another thief

The Prince was determined to offer a job to this Harud. He needed someone to keep an eye on the criminal activity in the Colony. He has his spy master put the word out that if Hasud reported to the Highborn district, he would be unharmed, potentially given clemency and possibly offered employment working with the Spy Master and Countrymen insurgency unit.

-Order: Spy Master puts word out to Harud (Hasud) to report to Highborn district. He will not be harmed and will be offered a Job as a counter intelligence officer to combat crime in the colony.

General Deth Glitch
The Highborn did not need no stinking Cannons (for themselves)

The Colony needed defenses. The Prince would not dare shame his artificer or any Highborn into making cowardly weapons that lacked grace. The Prince asks the Highborn Articifer to build a siege weapon that is suitable for the Highborn sophistication. Not disimilar to a Balista, but shaped like large bow. The Prince suggested to the Artificer to develop the weapon to be able to use the mana crystals (that will eventually be cultivated) for the weapon itself.

Order: The Prince redirects the Artificer to create Siege weapons for the Highborn. Specifically a Highborn ballista with Bolts with Mana crystals as ammo. This is only the beginning. There are more siege weapons to follow.

The Prince knew the Dwarves made the finest items that even could make the Highborn envious and respect their craft. Sure, they were crude for Highborn needs, but they were well crafted. The Prince dusted off a book with an engraved image of Dwarves firing a cannon. Such cannons devastated the advancing Murrdan forces. "WE NEED THESE! These will help defend the colony"

Meanwhile, Since Mana crystals would be an expensive resource to murder pathetic mortals with, he would ask the Dwarves for assistance.

General Deth Glitch
Order: The Prince respectfully asks the Fire Dwarf leader for a meeting to discuss future goals, among them constructing cannons and producing gun powder.

Sailing Away
The Prince was excited at the prospect at the mission overseas. He would outfit the vessel with dried fish, Elven cakes, and other food provisions needed for a prolonged journey. He would also ordered assembled a manifest of cargo to bring any rare goods in the Colony to be sold back in the Old world. Among items that may be of interest were the Divine distillate, Mana Crystals, artifacts found in ruins, Silver and other items. This would take some time, and the Prince would present the manifest before Sailing ((I need to figure out what commodities to send back before ship sails, will report back)).

Spacekitty SpiralErrant
"Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold"
The Prince orders Countrymen and Spy Master and his insurgency team to gain intel on the Mud Elves in order to plan attack. The Insurgency unit is also ordered to scout out the East, especially the Route the Mud Elves retreated to. The Prince also could use the assistance of the Spring born for they are silent in the woods and of the Fennec and Rats (who have been in hiding). This intel could be used to clear the East of the Mud Elf threat and to learn about the "Horned One".

@spiral errant Spacekitty

Order: The Prince orders the Spy and Countrymen/insurgents to scout out the East and spy on the Mud Elves. Gather intel, but do not engage. The Prince requests the Aid of the most stealthy of the Spring born to also gain intelligence on our enemies for the defense of the colony/herd. The Prince puts out a request To any of the most stealthy of colonist. This might be a job suitable to the Rat people and Fox people. The Fennec might be able to redeem themselves by helping the Colony gain intelligence of our enemies. Any act that helps the Colony would be considered in lessening Fennec probation. The Highborn Prince thinks this is a good opportunity for a joint mission.

Heyitsjiwon Enemy Standoo SpiralErrant

The Prince requests suggestions for location of Bank from Colonial Government members. The Prince thinks that near the Market in a secure location or somewhere a vault can be made, but is open to suggestions. The Prince has already authorized wealth to be offerred and has gotten approval from Colonial government.

Order: The Prince requests ideas for location of physical bank, how wealth will be protected, what economic system to employ and for input from all the factions. The Highborn establishes guild in principle with location to be determined jointly by colony.


The Smithy guild is working with the Attolians and Highborn and other members are welcome and needed. Meanwhile, the Smithy is actively producing weapons for the Colony to purchase. The HIGHBORN use their iron to make weapons and purchase Silver form Tyren, or make weapons for Tyren in exchange for Silver.

Enemy Standoo SpiralErrant Heyitsjiwon General Deth Glitch
Order: Smithy is up and running. The Guild is being established, Awaiting other members. Invited Tyren, Dwarves and Order of St. VIctoria to join Black Smiths guild.


Order: Highborn make weapons to sell to colony and as a resource. The Highborn offer to forge enchanted weapons for Tyren in exchange for silver.

Heyitsjiwon SpiralErrant Enemy Standoo
The Prince has agreed with the Attolians to begin joint military drills. This offer is being offered to the other members of the Colonial government. It is important we learn to fight side by side and coordinate colony defenses.

Order: The Attolians and Highborn initiate Joint military exercises. They will held these excercises together exclusively until other factions join them.

Zaltusinel
The Linguist is engaged in communicating with Nylor. ((POST TO COME, Must sleep now, but will work on it)

@Tori_98
((Still desiring to RP interaction. The Initial one was overlooked it seems.)) The Highborn still awaiting the Reinen to join the Colonial government. The Attolians are speaking on behalf of Colony and for this reason the Highborn are being reserved.

Ammended:

ZEBANI PIGMENT
ORDER: The Highborn put the Zebani pigment in the area of the Highborn district and in the learning Square. This pigment allows the Zebani to visit.

Country Living
The Prince noted the new arrivals to the Highborn district and heard the Highborn desire to live in the Country. The Prince orders a 24 Highborn (10 skilled, 10 unskilled 4 swordmasters) to go with the Engineer to the learning Square and to move the temporary pavilion in an area between the Reinen and the Haruntaras to establish country homes (and forward observation bases) along the river. These homes are to be rustic at first. (The Prince allocates 2 wealth to hire labor, 2 wealth to materals, 2 influence to improve relations with Tyren) to build country homes and pallisade to protect them along with watch tower to watch rivers movement. Another signal fire will be erected in order to alert other signal fires. This will allow Highborn also to develop better relations with Tyren and Reinen. The Highborn realize that they need a strategic vantage point and a place to go when the weather gets hot, or to fall back to if the Platz is overrun by Longdead.

Additionally, The Prince goes personally to talk to the Tyren with personal guard of five swordmasters as demonstration of respect and discuss decision to build seat of Colonial power at the learning center. Desires to meet with leader. ((reminder: The Highborn sent representative(s) to the Learning center when it was formed to learn the Tyren tongue))

Order: Prince goes personally to discuss Colonial decision with Tyren Leader , brings personal guard, and Highborn who learned some Tyren, The Prince sends Engineer and 24 Highborn (10 Skilled and 10 Unskilled, 4 sword masters and also allocates 1-2 wealth (as needed) to hire labor, 2 wealth to materials, and 2 influence to improve relations with Tyren) to build country homes and palisade to protect them along with watch tower to watch river and Gnolls and possibly Mud Elf movement. Another signal fire will be erected in order to alert other signal fires. This will allow Highborn also to develop better relations with Tyren and Reinen. These cottage country homes will be built between Reinen and Tryen settlements. A Palisade will be built around this country community. This location will be to the East of the Signal fires on the Map along the Road and to the river.


Beck :"With the linguist in presence, Communication with Nylor MIGHT actually be possible. Dance and music will only metaphorically be understood if at all, but their ancient tounge is distantly related enough to "First Tree Elvish" for the Linguist to understand and communicate with their leader and perhaps mages with some difficulty"

((other loose ends will also be addressed in later post))

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

Beckoncall Heyitsjiwon

So, here's the final confirmation of the loot and how it will be split:

Highborn Current Claims:
Malacite Rod
Black Star Saphire
Ivory Scroll
Eye
Massive Chain
Topaz
Green Jade Sword
Platinum Cloth Gown
Dragonscale Ribbon
1 Iron and 1 Steel

Attolian Current Claims:
Muurdaan Standard
Finger w/Ring
Sundial
Ivory Sceptor
Ironbook
Crossbow
Scroll (Communal)
Antique Weapons
Rust Bomb (Shared)
Vase
Braidmail

Colonial:
Anger Booze (Shared)
1 wealth given to Veterans of Battle
All remaining Weapons and Armor

40 large shields with slats or holes in them (double as masks – these can be used to move while behind shield cover or potentially fire from behind shield.


40 intact Bone Mail – drape of chain strips covering expected bypass areas, bones themselves are chemically treated to give them approximate protection of heavy leather, porous areas filled with iron filings to add strength – also held together by tendon material. Lighter than it looks, Armor is ablative so has a tendency to fall apart as it protects the wearer.


30 intact Heavy Bone Mail – Most of these are in superior condition because wearers were decapitated by highborn. Like regular bone mail, but gives roughly the protection of metal banded armor. – Full layered-rib cages, skull shoulder-guards, sleeves of ringed femur and humerus bones for arm and leg protection. Waistcoats made of skulls, shoulder-blades, and artful arrays of finger-bones, most of seemingly canine origin.

1 unit of “Anger Booze” -- (roughly 1 unit of POWERFUL booze) carried in tiny canteens and vials made of hollowed wood, gourds, or large nut-shells, this concoction is likely the reason mud-elves are so fearless, and perhaps why the average rank and file soldier of theirs was no match for disciplined colony resistance. Produces an “angry drunk” – but is not at all unpleasurable to drink. While it’s exact composition is uncertain, initial fears that it contained blood or other unappealing elements has been disproven. Enough to keep a Tavern running a while, or to keep a sizable unit of troops reckless and angry for a protracted period of time.


1 “Buzz Bomb” – perhaps a secret weapon that was failed to deploy after the chaos of the initial charge, it is basically a VERY large (approx. cauldron-sized) insect hive that has been completely covered in a thin layer of try clay with mesh ventilation on the top and sides of the sphere. The type of insects inside the sphere is unknown, but they are LOUD and VERY angry. It is doubtful they will live more than a few days if an effort is not made to sustain them. The clay-hive itself is wrapped in a thick blanket of rubbery leaves, held in tension so that theoretically the unfurling of the leaf would launch the missile, albeit inaccurately. (INSECTS DEAD BUT CAN BE EXAMINED FOR RESEARCH)


Piles of Javelins – Most mud elves have at least two of these things, though they are not of a quality that made them terribly effective. Still – volume of fire enabled calculable wounds on the highborn, and to a lesser extent amarans.


Tooth-Blades – Made of some kind of animal tusk or fang, they rapidly decomposed on the field especially once scavengers began to pile them together. Whatever material they were made of is perishable, but might explain how some Mud-elves were able to inflict noticeable wounds on brutes in melee. Sadly, most of what is left is brown and cracked… Cleric determines they are the product of some priestly spell or divine enchantment.

 

[Beckoncall]

UPDATE: SpiralErrant

Unexpected consequence :

"As a side job the springborn are to use the new tree singing skills to also help plant flowers around Hrun'Taras and work them into their designs if they can with climbing ivy and flower walls on the stone"

Tree singing between houses has lead to flowering vines to connect various houses, creating the odd canopy between static structures but more importantly, the little vines have a tendency to seek warmth in or around the doorways to houses. It is learned that when anger or unrest is in one house, all the flowers in a chain snap back into bulbs - when all is peaceful, the flowers lazily bloom. This has indirectly raised security in Harun'Taras... and the little flowers, which not as vigilant as elves, are far more numerous and attentive. It has already lead to outing certain bulls tensions around females... which is putting everyone in a very intriguing mood...

 

[Beckoncall]

UPDATES: Heyitsjiwon :


Attolian Halberdiers and Exile Police are re-fit with Steel weapons and armor.

Indeed! with high elf cooperation secured you might be able to make even better steel alloys.

Caelis arrives with the Attolian Military and the High Born to the Vault

(looking forward to exchanges)

Attolians are committing the Shipwright, and 17 sailors to the Convoy to fully man 1 ship along with the High Born

ONE (1) Ship is prepared to depart, but will not leave without say so by attolians AND Highborn, and it is strongly encouraged that a cargo manifest of goods from factions colony-wide be formed so the ship can make a profit.

Possible Routes:

Nearest tradeport ("Yon be Dragons" would see the voyage return in 2-3 months with good wind.
Not the best place to sell, but presently the quickest.

The Capital: 6 months -- ship returns mid winter.

Port Silverius : (nearest Highborn settlement) 4-5 months.

Other possible routes can be explored, but none that would be anywhere near Highborn reinforcements.

Current Orders:

Excavation of marked sites located in the Agora District to begin
5 Skilled Laborers, 15 Unskilled Laborers and 3 Augmented Stone Constructs

Most sites so far are a bust, but there are still additional places to look. So far the excavation has uncovered ONE WEALTH in overall valuables and broken artifacts, and ONE UNIT OF MAGNETIC STEEL BRICKS. What the hell they are used for is beyond knowing at this point, but only the strength of an automaton can pull them apart without injury, and they are impossible to move if they are not pulled apart.

Study of the functional Clockwork Soldier and Repair
Nicholas, Engineer, 5 Skilled Workers

Due to adequate expertise and attention to detail, NINE research points are yielded simply from stripping the armor off of the thing and getting a good look at how it runs (most of the work is done by cogs behind a backplate, while more sensitive instruments are contained within the chest cavity. Repairs however, do not go quickly. Nicholas and the Engineer are practically dizzy with the applications and potentials of the research, leading the secondary workers to be the only really effective force for the time being. They manage to repair the strange "record system" that plays albums of pre-set phrases (for battle, patrol, suspicion, greeting, etc) as well as a series of read/write "coins" that use a variety of new and old words as needed. These discs are badly scratched however, and are likely the next thing to fix... So far it at least can say "Artist" without stuttering!

Linguist attempts to write a new easily read fairytale that is meant to be a message of unity and virtue. They have access to the writing copying arm.
Linguist, 5 Skilled Workers

Attolian influence continues to popularize Attolian culture and values, as well as providing entertainment and education.

Construction of an Amphitheatre by the Commons
Architect, 10 Skilled Workers, 20 Unskilled Workers
1 Wealth to Hire Freedmen Labor, 2 Units of Marble, 6 Bronze Statues

With Ratkin and Aymaran Labor leveraged (-1 wealth!) the amphitheater goes up successfully, and quickly (I'll add it to the map -- PM me approx. location desired!) the Statues are especially impressive and the marble exterior of the ramp-tiered structure make for an uncharacteristically striking construction... now if only there was anyone to perform there!

(ATTOLIANS GAIN NO INFLUENCE YET, BUT WILL GAIN INFLUENCE RELATIVE TO IT'S USE!)

Expedition to the Northern Jungle
Preserver, Falconer, Chemist, Dr. Fleming, 5 Skilled Workers, 5 Unskilled Laborers, 5 Halberdiers, Sundered King

RESULT:
Expedition does not go as planned. Sundered King's mount and weight of armor desperately slows travel through the swamp and more than once halbardiers need to be rescued from disturbed gasses on thick mud threatening to both render them unconscious and suck them down. Expedition is scrapped as Jungle cannot be crossed before nightfall, and the hideous arthropods of the swamp start to take a PARTICULAR interest in the attolian workers... leading to injuries.

(Need better guide for armored troops even better wilderness survival than the falconer) injuries superficial, and silver lining is that (2 units) TWO UNITS of BRAMBLE GEMS are crossed path with, and taken.

Disconcerting burbling and strange roars awaited further in the swamp. Attolians may need help or other experts to navigate the swamp safely -- and heavy cavalry is right out impossible.

Assaying and mining of other metals/deposits in the barrier hills, hopefully with Ratkin help
Geologist, 5 Skilled Workers, 15 Unskilled Workers

Strokes of bad luck in chosen areas of explanation yield no new reliable sources -- however, a Giant (2 unit) deposit of strange, natural bronze alloy (copper with zinc and aluminum already mixed in) was found in a Ratkin breeding warren clearing project, and is gifted to the attolians.

ATTOLIANS GAIN 2 units of "BRONZIA." (natural/magically formed bronze) -- the deposit is in one piece and is only the shape of a near cylinder that was warped under great heat.

Extensive exploration of the sewers begins!
Lothar, 5 Halberdiers, 5 Skilled Workers, 5 Unskilled Workers

Initially thought a great success, it seems slight alterations to the layout of the sewer not conforming with old maps the team started with have rendered the new maps of questionable validity. Either the first maps were dead wrong, or certain passages have opened and others have closed. There is nothing to evidence recent construction, with dust and debris seemingly in natural distributions... The team will need more workers or have to try again.

Establishment of a proper Customs Office and Regulations by the Port
Castellan, Caelis, 5 Skilled Workers, 10 Unskilled Workers

Overseen by the Castlellan, all future arriving (and if requested departing) ships are now subject to competant search and inspection.

 

[Spacekitty]

1. 
   Their “Network Marketing” program is continued, with the expansion of the network to host a few more “advisors” and integrate their “Business Insider” as the face and head of it. They will provide him with assistance when necessary and keep tabs on him, not only to provide orders, relay the info he gathers but also to supervise him, make sure he knows where his loyalties lie. His first task is to establish an entrepreneurial front in the marketplace, selling a variety of goods provided for him. He will of course, get a nice cut for him to use to fund himself and what not. Current goods line up are basic beers, wines and “Heaven’s Aroma”, a slightly more expensive spiked beer with a calming, slightly hallucinogenic effect. No drugs involved of course, but the recipes a secret. As made available; jewelery, Opiate based “medicine” and Heaven’s Amber “candies” and other materials and even a cut of fish gathered from Muddy Lake will be sold as well. Ultimately separate stands for each product division (Brews, Jewelry, Food, “Medicines”) are wanted to increase market presence.
   
2. (2 Hitmen + 1 Capo +the rest of that 1 wealth and some “Purple Slime” consumed to produce slightly spiked beverage)
3. Spare laborers are ordered to fish the Muddy Lake in an attempt to start stockpiling meat for winter. Fish not given to their “Business Insider” and not needed for immediate consumption are to be dried, smoked and stored in cellars. (2 Hitmen, 10 thugs)
4. A delegate is sent to the Tyren. Outcome to be posted. (1 hitmen)
5. The Metallurgist and 5 Skilled Workers are tasked with studying the automaton parts gathered to see just how the gears and systems may have worked and attempt to recreate them in usable forms to help “industrialize” Finecian work and tech. Current ideas being thrown around are gear systems to make finecian crossbows more powerful yet not require exuberant amounts of force to use and also possible use a feed system to fire a clip of bolts in rapid succession. This idea will be pursued first to help with defense and hunting.(8 Skilled Workers + 1 Capo)
6. Excavation of the Arena/Pyramid continues. The goal is to completely unearth every square inch of the place so renovations can begin. The old artwork and decorations are to be polished, repaired and redone, the bones found to be made into jewelry to be sold and decor for the arena. Furthermore the arena is to be made into a proper arena with seating, private viewing boxes, pubs, gambling rooms, “fun” rooms, the good stuff. (This is listed in chronological order of tasks to be done). (4 Trolls, 20 Skilled Workers, 5 Thugs, 2 Capos)
7. More plots are added to the farm that will contain barley, wheat and brewing materials. The rest of the farm is simply maintained. (1 Troll, 7 Skilled Workers, 10 Thugs, 1 Capo)
8. Teams lead by Master Biologist are sent out into the forests around “Muddy Lake” tapping the trees for tap/syrup and looking for sources of honey. Side tasks include foraging for hallucinogenic/addictive mushrooms and the Master Biologist will gather local fauna to determine usefulness in crafting, brewing, medicines, drugs food, luxaries and the such. (5 Skilled Workers, 5 Thugs, 1 Capo)
9. The 8 unearthed rooms are designated. 3 for growing “Purple Slime”, 1 for Distilling/Brewing of Walking Dream Soda, 2 for General Alcohol Production, 1 for “Medicinal” Herbal Production (Opiates, Sweat-Leaf, Heaven’s Amber, Wazkuh, etc) and 1 will be converted into a makeshift/temporary pub/tavern for future visitors to the arena. (General Labor Force available at Excavation site is used)

Trolls Make Fine Steeds
The Finecian perch in the northwest was growing and spreading quickly. One could compare them to a plague, or more accurately to an invasive species, who, once given the chance to spread even a single root, completely takes over the ecosystem. And with no supervision and essentially freerange in their forced separation from the rest of the colony, they did just that. New structures were popping up by the hour. If the dead could look out from the ruins they would certainly see tiny ants scurrying the landscape in the distance, a few of them even constructing a small palisade on the colossi. A growing pile of dirt and bones was growing just outside the excavation and the fields west of Muddy Lake were turned first brown as a herd of ants scurried about and then a pattern or greens, golds and other colors of nature as a growing fields of crops took its place.

Much progress had been made in the past days, but there was still much more to get done. In the Arena Trolls carted piles of dirt and bones up a makeshift ramp over and out the top while fennecs dug out the dirt with varying degrees of fervor depending on how close the capo and his whip were and whether or not he was looking in their direction. An entire level had already been unearthed but there were still many more to go before the arena could officially open to the public. For now however, the increased and inherently private space was being used to cultivate and produce their commodities and other supplies.

Back in the country, aka Muddy Lake, the creation of the farm had gone quicker the anticipated, endless stretches of virgin soil already tilled and seeds planted within. By this time next year the area should be covered in golds, greens and browns ready for harvest. This process had been expedited by a breakthrough in troll riding technology.

One of the agricultural engineers, having long grown bored with the snail’s pace farming typically ran at had seeked to improve the speed, efficiency and excitement of the work. To reach this end, he had spent his time standing the makeshift watch tower erected in the center of the farms to think and create a mockup of his idea. It was during this time when a convoy of Highborn and Attolian soldiers and workers had arrived on the other side of the lake, much to the displeasure of the Fennecs. It seems they were to not be left alone to their own devices. Likely for the benefit of all, but an annoyance nonetheless.

From across the lake they could just make out the operation. Their adversaries got to work quickly, hastily erecting a small palisade and closing it off from the Finecians prying eyes with a wooden wall. The desert tree climbers laughed at this as a few began to occupy the trees surrounding the fort to continue the watch. A few of the Highborn seemed to notice their beady little eyes among the tree branches and soon enough they found themselves in a spy war. The joint colonial forces erected small towers from which to watch the Fennecs. A few highborn initially could be seen peering out from the bush in the forest just outside the farm. This close range espionage was short lived however due to recurring Finecian Aerial bombardments in which Fennecs would climb into the trees above the Highborn scouts and throw acorns and the such down at them, making squirrel noises whenever confronted. They soon fell back to their towers and Finecian counterintelligence forces were able to advance through to the forests surrounding their own fort, from which they did a mixture of actual spying, poorly faked “monster noises” and flinging sticks at anyone who came too close and claiming Yetis had invaded the forest. A few skirmishes had occurred along the border when colonial forces got fed up with the assaults but the Finnecian scouts had simply disappeared into the underbrush. Within a few days the colonials had for the most part given up and had fallen back to their towers, creating a stalemate, A few more fearless Fennec soldiers had attempted a daytime invasion of the fortress with slingshots and wooden stick spears, but the invasion force had been quickly broken up by Highborn warning shots. So for now the stalemate stayed and trenches were being dug along the border, but word was task team “Fluffy Tail” was planning a night ops mission to steal the fort flag and end the war once and for all.

While all this was happening the Agricultural Engineer was testing his idea. He took one of the trolls, harnessing a large plow behind it and strapping a chair and fishing pole to it’s head from which a porkchop dangled. The troll had initially scoffed and grumbled angrily.

“Oog not dumb!” It bellowed as it reached out for the porkchop. “Fennec think he can trick Oog? Ha! I eat your pig!”. It smacked its lips greedily and a toothy grin appeared on it’s face as it’s large grubby hands neared it’s meal. He wasn’t sure what the Fennecs were trying to do, but if they thought he wasn’t going to eat that pork chop they had another thing coming. Just as he was about to grab the pork chop, he found his arms were fully outstretched. He grunted, wiggling his fingers as if to will his arms to extent further. “Oog… grab… pig!”. He began to run forward to grab the pork chop, but the pork chop moved with him. He tried going faster and harder, even jumping at the porkchop to catch it, but it always remained just out of his reach. Angered, he charged, DETERMINED to consume the meal, plowing the field with the force of a 100 men while he did so. One of the working fennecs jumped onto the charging grunts head, turning the fishing pole to steer the beast. The first tractor had been born.

 

[Beckoncall]

Enemy Standoo :

"THE BEACON IS LIT!" :

Like a blast-wave the golden and red light of the lighthouse sparked to life, before descending back into a more gentle radiating glow. As if slowly, lazily carried by the hymn -- a ring of burning orange flowed out from the newly lit lighthouse like a great unbroken red smoke-ring...

Everyone in the colony below was absolutely captured by it. Some wept. Some folded their arms in quiet prayer, and others laughed as they had never laughed before. It was beautiful. The faithful of dracos especially were impressed by the ring of "floating flame" -- exiles slapping each other and stating things to the effect of "If said Victoria does not serve Dracos, then they must at least be friendly when they pass in the halls of the heavens!" and of course, "Wooooo!"

The Hymns of the Devout seemed also to be carried on the ring, and for a short time, everyone relaxed. Aymarans shut their eyes and absently lolled their tounges onto their chests, Attolians slowed in their work, The highborn smiled in their meditations. Tyren squinting in the hottest time of the day seemed to surrender to warmth and sigh. It was truly a magical if not divine event.

The shadows, long around the temple of dracos, the sandslope, and the docks saw the shadows retreat even in the lee of the cliffs. The effect was subtle, but a pall was lifted, even in parts of the depression.

And that was not all -- the ring did not fade, it only grew -- wider and wider as it expanded even over the whole platz itself and out to sea and all around it, and still the ring expanded.
(OOC: The ring expands 2 map grids away in all directions at it's zenith!)

When the ring extended beyond the platz and hovered over the Ruined Theater district, every longdead milling in the streets craned their heads at once, and like puffs of smoke, their bones fell flat in the dust. It was known the majority of the longdead in the district were underground, but to know, just by holy power and divine beauty that hundreds or more lost souls were smitten directly into the afterlife even drove the devout to new heights of pride and honor.

...The ring also reached beyond the outskirts of shadow-fields, and for a moment the entire plains lit up, sending uncounted birds streaking to the skies as if a curse of it's own was lifted from that land. The ring, reaching it's apex -- nearly combed the edge of the nearest of the great trees, and it was seen to sway slightly as if buffeted by the wave... everyone was too awestruck at the time, but in the days to come some said they saw things fall from the tree... "a small rain of white and black." it was said...

(St. VICTORIANS GAIN +4 {FOUR!} INFLUENCE FOR NOT ONLY IMPROVING THE COLONY WITH A MUCH NEEDED FACILITY, BUT ABSOLUTELY SURPRISING, IF NOT TOUCHING, THE POPULACE.)

________________________________________________________________________

With the recent upsets in the depression, many exiles were eager to prove they were not part of the problem, especially the most faithful of dracos -- membership in the peace-keeping force, ( Heyitsjiwon ) which was mixed well with attolian police, began to reach new levels of fitness, if not discipline due to the efforts of canoness Isabella Nazio -- it was true the men feared her, but they had yet to accept her. Fear would do for now, and so would fitness... in those could be planted the seeds of faith and honor...

(Peacekeeping force improved substantially, potential for corruption vastly reduced)
_______________________________________________

Sir Abel became another welcome face at the tavern, but it rapidly became apparent he was outclassed by a loving following already for Lindar the Bard ( Prince Vaethorion ) -- if he was to truly touch the hearts of these people, he would need to pour out his soul, and demonstrate the INFLUENCE his faction had in the ears and hearts of the populace. Everyone loves a good song about good over evil -- but he could tell that so far, he had entertained, and not educated...

________________________________________________

Sulthus Curoi and Onri Ghol were dour when the fountain began to speak to them, but they were not surprised. Demons, when confronted often spoke their piece -- they would soon learn whether this was one of sniveling, or posturing, or mockery, or threat -- they had seen many faces of demons. Most surrendered their secrets so easily before one CRUSHED them.

"Ah, Sweet Canonates... you call yourselves. So welcome you are to my square, and this colony. A being such as myself thrives on belief and intent -- and yours are so very evident... I am stronger for your acknowledgement. If we cannot be friends as so many have come around to see me, then please render unto me your ire. It's sincerity, it's PURITY -- is a delicacy I have not savored. If we are not to be friends, know that you have in coming here already earned the right to be my partner...."

Onri turned to Sulthus, the latter almost red with intensity. "Mockery" Onri seemed to state with his eyes, and Sulthus in silent agreement turned back to the fountain. This was no simple demon or fiend with no tie but the soul of a young girl or a corrupted holy symbol -- this thing was the demonic possession equivalent of antique furniture. Surely not unheard of, but if their task was to banish it, they would not relish the task. Every pore and grain of the fountain it resided was suffused with it, and an unholy seal seemed to enrobe the bleeding structure. It did not bear the hallmark of the strongest demon the Order had faced, but certainly one of the oldest... and that was saying something. Demons such as these sought validation, like false gods -- and Sulthus knew it was not lying when in smirking acknowledgement, it fearlessly stated that Sulthus' knowing it by sight only made it stronger.

"Please, if you are going to tarry any longer, let us chat -- I have so much to gain from it, Sulthus... You can allow me to explain that I am not your enemy, but I am soooo thankful you were not the first soul to come upon my starving form in this Plaza... you'd have crushed me like a bug, and not the other way around. Let me tell you of how I empower the Witch of this colony to sever the wicked, how I give strength to the most devoted and well intentioned lord Caelus Wulf. Let me be one of the first to welcome you to a truly new world -- where a higher canonate of St. Victoria need not fear the demon nursing at his community's breast -- here all things can be different, old man -- I do not expect you to be tempted, but even the "old" part is negotiable when you are willing to admit company with strange bedfelllows..."

If the task was exorcism... it was going to be one HELL of a challenge.

(OOC: Feel free to continue exchanges with the fountain in PM and later migrate transactions into the IC thread... unless the canonates intend additional actions, they are expected to report the severity of the demonic presence back at the garrison.)

__________________________________________

Of business with other monsters -- Sir Ravalla and Sir Magda dealt with their own beasts -- Slavers and the Monster they held it their hold. The Smugglers were bidden to leave and wasted no time -- the Slaver ship desired to leave with it, but was detained for further examination and no notice was forthcoming of their being loosed. They had since packed all their remaining wares back upon the ship, and were preparing, with a skeleton crew, to leave for wherever the wind could take them far from here... at earliest chance.

Search of the craft, of which no true resistance was met -- yielded only one thing that the St. Victorians did not know... That the cyclops had no documentations of capture or ownership, and that study of the logs showed it was likely poached from one of the lastland archepelagos, and by muurdain law worthy of forfeiture to constabulary for misappropriation...

...If the order actually cared to requisition a CYCLOPS. It's capture was not only illegal, but likely it's sale was to be hidden as well. The crew that knew of this (and Lady and Mr. Narvik as well) were all slain in the riot... so it was nothing the sailors could know or tell of whatever they decided.

Beyond that, the ship held no secrets -- it was more a storehouse of shames. Unsanitary prison areas, evidence of sinful abuse, and greater quality of appointments to the trade goods it carried than the slaves or even sailors bound to it. Sir Magda commented that this was the kind of ship that if it was not burned, would produce haunts wherever it sank or ran aground. They were glad to be left of it.

_________________________________________________

Back at the Garrison the crude but effective lenses supplied by the attolians were being improved, polished and curved along with new ones created by one of the Orders own Glaziers. If a guild of glassworkers could be formed, the Victorians were confident they could learn as much from Attolian lenscraft as the order could teach them. The attolians were possessed of the newest techniques, oft garnered from places beyond the empire brought to them as... for want of a better term... spectacles. The St. Victorians practiced the best practices garnered from the ages -- lore taken from elves, from the lost sun cults of Bevilectus, to a cousin order known as the sons of glass. It was enough to make one think...

________________________________________

Sir Tarkus does his job joylessly but impeccably -- By the end of his brief tenure with the Tyren, they have not one but two watertight pools (one enclosed) and a competent primer on quality stonemasonry -- Sir Tarkus had had better students, but none so enthusiastic. Their apprenticeship would be over before either he or the Tyren knew it.

COMMUNITY BETWEEN ORDER AND TYREN IMPROVES.
________________________________________

When it was learned Sir Tarkus was making a habitat for an aboleth, of all things -- several canonates not the least of which, it's archivist, were alight with the prospect of interviewing and creating a record from the creature... once the orders association with the Tyren was clarified and the beast was put at greater ease, it began to share it's riches of information -- "An interview with an Aboleth" could easily be not just one volume, but an encyclopedic series. If it was to be believed, it spoke of great wars in the ocean in the ages before land broke the surface of the planet's waters, corroborated spurious and untrusted fragmented accounts of an age of Aboleth Supremacy, both at sea, and for a brief time the infant islands and continents of their young planet. Their hunger for lore from the creature was rapacious, and ever the Aboleth had modest and simple answers for all their questions. By the time Anais' habitat was ready and she bid take her leave, she had only whet the appetite of the archivist, historian, and indeed the very backbone of the order. An aboleth was essentially, by proxy of genetic memory, a witness to all of history. A treasure without price... Sir Crofter in fact questioned Elien upon return to the garrison if it made sense to even allow such a creature to remain in the hands of the Tyren...

__________________

As for their church, they had the manpower and the stamina remaining (especially with so much heavy lifting on the garrison taken on by the Tyren) to make a very strong start -- but in the shadow of all that was used to build the lighthouse and the garrison -- there was little more than a frame and a foundation before the squires ran out of materials. Additional wealth or foraging would need to be put forward to continue construction of the church -- they were just down to the last plank, frame, and nail.

RESULT: PROJECT HALTED UNTIL MORE MATERIALS AND/OR FUNDS APPLIED TO PROJECT

__________________________

 

[Spacekitty]

I forgot to mention this so here's a very detailed post to go over it.
Prince Vaethorion The Highborn are informed that the Finecians would be delighted to provide a recon team upon request to aid in their efforts if it would help repair relations.

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

Enemy Standoo Beckoncall


The Highborn, Attolians and the Tyren had discussed freeing the slaves when the slavers arrived. The Fennec beat them to it and chaos ensued. The indignity of holding the Cyclops became too much for the Prince. Word came from the Spy Master that the Cyclops was still being held and without proper manifest. This enraged the Prince, and he ordered 3 dozen Highborn (1 dozen archers, 17 spearman, Five Swordmasters) the Tactician, Tamer, the Cleric. The Cyclops will be treated gently. The Cleric will pacify the Cyclops and the Tamer will ultimately train him.

The Highborn in perfect formation, clad in Mithril armor and bright cloaks, archers, SpearElves, and Swordmasters, Escorted by the Highborn Cleric, the Tamer and the Tactician. The Cleric wearing an angel skin cloak, moves effortlessly, seemingly floating, there is a lavender aura around the Cleric and he exudes power, magical power. The Tamer with his organic looks to be nearly Sylvan in his dress and manner. His armor is a patchwork quilt of various animal parts, dragon hide, dragon scale and manticore. His necklaces has teeth from various exotic animals and he is adorned with feathers and he moves like a panther, he is armed with a bow made from a femur bone of a pegasus and an axe made from the tusks of a dire boar. His enchanted cloak is made from chameleon and blends in with the environs. The Tactician, is a very tall, platinum blond High Even female with strong broad shoulders. Her armor is extremely formidable looking. It is Heavy mithril plate and she is heavily armed with a long High Elven sword, and a large shield. She has several daggers and a bow and quiver on her back. Her Cape is crimson and her seemingly glowing eyes are yellowish.

The Tactician has a letter from the Prince and proceeds to the harbor. To read the letter.

Slavers,

You have caused our colony great harm and your carelessness has led to death of the Muurdan Nobles. It has caused discord in the colony. We also have been very disturbed to find out that you are holding a Cyclops hostage illegally and without Manifest We are impounding the Cyclops and we are doing so with the authority vested in us as the Port Authority of this Harbor and as members of the High Council of the Colonist. We suggest full compliance with the Colonial authorities. Consider the loss of this impounding as part of the payment of damages you have caused the Colony.

Signed,

Colonial Port Authority

Orders: 3 dozen Highborn (A dozen archers, 14 spear-Elves, Five Swordmasters, Tactcian, Cleric and Tamer) are sent with order to impound (free) the Cyclops. The Cleric will cast calming spell and the tamer will help tame the Cyclops. The Cyclops will become part of the Colony and will be named nicknamed "Sloth" and will be befriended.

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

Spacekitty

The Prince stood there in the pine forest on a pleasant day. His Highborn awaited his orders. How easy it would be to slaughter these Fox People he thought, but then he would be sullying his own honor. Let them make a false move the Prince thought. The Prince followed the Smooth talking Fox words. They seemed to be true. The Prince was expecting more lies and deceit. So be it, thought the Prince, the Drow know I am here. This was a relief. Yes, there will be more assassins, but the Prince's life had been in danger for the past century it seemed. At least he did not need to carry on with this silly charade anymore. The Fox People, they are eloquent for animals. It reminded him of the puppet shows he enjoyed in his childhood when he was a wee lad. This amused him.

"Rabies?, I see. An arrow to the back of the head is a known cure. Perhaps you know a gentler one? We Highborn in our superior mindset and being near perfect beings, have an immense patience for the inferior races like yourselves. We tolerate even have learned to appreciate the Bull, the Crocodile and even the vermin like Rat people have demonstrated to us their useful resourcefulness. All creations in the universe have a purpose. The hawk, the snake, the flea, the Foxes, are all part of creation. All have their own nature, their purpose and destinies. You are following your nature, we understand that, but as you are sentient creatures, we ask you to demonstrate restraint. We too have our nature. We are born to rule. It is our purpose and our destiny as well. However, we must not rule everything, everything and everyone. We cannot rule the stars, or the moss, or the river, or the tree. We do not rule the Caterpillar and we do not rule over the Fennec. The Fennec are the Fennec, and the Highborn are the Highborn. One cannot have the High without the low. We are high, very high. I am high right now. How high am I? Lets just say I am touching the stars right now and you do not even notice. I am full of stars." ( The Prince examines his pinky and one would swear that a star was in his pinky finger. Was the Prince speaking metaphorically, or was he actually high was unclear)

The Prince after demonstrating he had stars in his pinky finger. The Highborn were magical race after all continued on.
"The way?, I know the way, but do you know the way? The way is not just here or there, or there or well anywhere, it is everywhere. It is the way. There are many ways and only one way. Some ways lead to the past, some to the future, some to nowhere, some ways are full of eternal misery and other ways are full of bliss. I can show the one way ,or the many or the way towards nothingness. In fact, I had considered showing your boss the way, but this was not going to be a pleasant journey and one he would not have returned from. However, the way you are speaking of, the provincial, physical way is another matter. That is a much simpler one."

The Prince looked out to the distance at something, that was not evident to the average bystander. He was seemingly peering at another dimension. "I have strayed from our topic and main focus. Yes, your bosses absence. A pity he is ill. Not really, but for you I mean. I think the Highborn cured rabies once if I recall. I don't think it is an illness that effects our people, but if your leader needs help, the healers can examine him. We will extend this courtesy because you are part of the colony even if on probation. Sometimes, in relation to rabies, the examination is of the head itself I recall. Unfortunately, the head does not remain on the body, but If you are unsure he has rabies, then this method of examination might be a bit too extreme of a measure thus far. However, this is a good way to prevent the spread of the disease..."

The Prince nodded sympathetically as he envisioned A headless Fox person. "Enough about animal diseases. My instinct say you are telling the truth. We have a saying back home "Sometimes a Mermaid Farts, and it makes bubbles". Are you like a farting Mermaid? We shall see. At the moment, your words are agreeable. Most likely the Drow wanted me dead and offered you compensation for my murder. It seems you have been wise not to accept and if you did accept, that would be unwise." The Prince shook his head sadly imagining dozens of headless Fox People. The Prince continued, "I do not believe all of your words, but that is not of importance. They are words and die in the air like farts. What is important is that I feel you, perhaps out of self preservation, want to improve your standing here. You seem to realize that you narrowly evaded eradication and your instincts are now telling you to relent. This is wise. Instincts are important, and I admire the animal races' instincts. You say you are good at secrets, but then you order your scribe to write down our conversation. That does not seem like good secret keeping to me. It is of no matter, my destiny is written and I am immortal with this physical vessel or without." The Prince gestures to his gorgeous, perfect physique.

The Prince smiled, a genuine smile, and one that could mean a myriad of things. "We need each other here. This has been a humbling experience for us. For us to rely, depend even on primitive, inferior races is not easy on our pride. WE have come to respect and even appreciate the various attributes of the other races, factions and learned to tolerate them. All talents, of all natures, of all skills, of all entities are essential here for our survival, your survival and for the success, survival of the colony." The next words seemed to be stuck in the Prince's throat, as if he was a cat with a bird in this mouth. "Weeeee, neeeed, one another". the Prince could barely say these words, it hurt his pride so deeply, and it was like he had a mouthful of excrement.

"You see, each faction is like a spoke in a wheel. Your criminal blundering has had a very dire effect. One which others are cleaning up after as we speak. Your Foxes will continue to make amends for this. The Probation stands. The murders have been uncovered and the intel that the Coppersmiths have been vanquished will be considered in the judgment of what punishment and penalties the Fennec must endure. Meanwhile, I have an offer that if accepted will be considered in the estimates of the Colonial government."

"We must reconnoiter the East of the River. It is infested with Mud Elves, they are the Colony's enemy. They are not to be reasoned with, but eradicated. They are led by a Demon of sorts named the Horned one. They have witches that are dangerous. We must discover more about them. We are sending insurgents to gather intel. They are the muscle if they are discovered by a small party, but as good as they at insurgency, they are not Fox like. You Fennec are gifted at being unseen and this is an opportunity for the Fennec to contribute to the security of the Colony and curry favor with the Colonial government."

"Come now, we shall go to meet with other leaders of the Colonial government now. We shall escort you. I will go ahead first, as I move fast. Part of the escort, shall tarry long enough for your to follow and you will be under our protection as you enter the Colony. Many hold you responsible for the murder of the Muurdain nobles, which could lead this Colony to ruin. Have no fear though. We are of our word. You shall meet Colonial justice, and I think the Colony will give your people another chance. I warn you now and again, to follow the laws of the Colony. If not, I fear there will be no more chances offered and only retribution."

That said the Prince gave a sign for the Hidden Highborn to sheath their weapons, put arrows back into quivers, the Prince vanished into them as they converged departed, vanished seemingly with his guard at high speed to return to the Colony and give word of the Fennec and Highborn escorts arrival. The Fennec will be escorted and protected to face the Colonial government and whatever justice it metered out to them.
Enemy Standoo SpiralErrant Beckoncall Heyitsjiwon Spacekitty
((Next should be RP of the Fennec second in command meeting with the Colonial government leaders and deciding their fate. The Prince already the Prince seemingly is giving them a second chance in light of what occurred with Sorkin and the Coppersmiths))

 

[Spacekitty]

Again the Highborn Prince erupted in a torrent of stringed eloquent sentences that almost felt as if he were reciting a poem. It was hard to judge when one sentence ended and another began as the Prince blazed through his sugar coated, insult laced speech, switching from topic to topic without much thought or warning. If his goal was to confuse the scribes, then mission accomplished, as for all their efforts and frantic scribbling the only result was illegible ink smears that accounted for half of his tirade. But if his goal was to insult the Fennecs, intentful or not with his stereotypical Elven demeanor, his words were lost on Mr. Mallowthew, who didn’t bat an eye during it all. His expression remained that of contemplative interest, as if he were taking in the Prince’s every word and analysing it for himself. The only real response the Highborn could gather from the Capo was when he turned to his scribes to make sure they had gotten everything, which of course was returned with frightful shakes of their furry heads, and his only reply was “Ah, well. It was mostly garbage anyways.”.

At the end of it all, Mallowthew merely nodded and swept his arm out forward. “Lead the way”.

***

The Finecians would follow their Elven escort without protest, Mr. Mallowthew nodding to them but keeping to himself and his companions glancing nervously about at their “guardians” whose arment seemed a bit over the top for mere escorts. When they arrived at the meeting place the Capo would greet his Judges calmly with a nod, bow and a verbal grace. His couriers would set up off to the side, preparing for a second attempt at transcribing the conversations.
Prince Vaethorion

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Various Responses and Updates to Events

The Attolian Linguist walked in the opening of the Amphitheater. He spun in slow circles, trying to take in the sight all at once. It seemed like he was home. The Amphitheater was a grand creation that stuck out in the Colony. This was the thing that he was looking for! "Hah! It's fantastic! You see? This is an amazing work! How did you think of this?" The Architect replied "I just pictured home and brought a piece of it back here. Now, what's next?" The Linguist replied "Next?" "Art is meant to be appreciated and enjoyed! What do you mean next? How are we going to draw people here?" "Ahh, right... appreciators. Hmm, perhaps, a grand opening celebration? We can have Phaedra and the Sirens perform. I could get a play running about the fairytales that I recently wrote! Get some free ale and food to encourage people to come. I know! We can invite the other performers! The Ratkin and their caricatures! The Lordly Bard, Lindar!. I believe the Order has a musician among them as well! The Wood Elves and the Tyren with their crafts! Perhaps, they would prefer to showcase their works in a fitting location! Art complements art after all! Yes! I will send word that we are looking for showcases for the Amphitheatre! Let all know and be excited! The culmination of the Colony's art and creativity! This here, my friend, is the birth of art and culture in the New World!" The Linguist was ecstatic at the prospects that presented themselves at this Colony.

---

Word began to reach the Platz of the Zebani and how they sought to learn more of the colony and sought peaceful coexistence until the Colonists defeated the Cull. However, in order to clearly display where the Zebani can visit the Colony, the Highborn and the Attolians were granted purple pigments to color the areas where the Zebani may visit. The Pigment was ordered by Caelis to be used as a decorative touch to locations where the Zebani are to visit.

---

With the recent visit to the Zebani, Caelis thought it fitting to visit the Red Fountain. After all, the Fountain owed him one more question. Thus, Caelis asked "How can the Colonists defeat, survive and stop the Cull forever?" The Fountain gave a vague answer, but assured that it would be the key to defeating the Cull for good. Caelis pondered the hints and warnings that the Zebani and the Red Fountain gave. He still wasn't sure what the answer was, but he knew that it could be found. Both within the Colony and outside. Thus, Caelis sent word to the rest of the Colonial Government about the Attolian discoveries and conclusions of the Cull, and asked for their cooperation in determining what exactly can be done to stop the Cull.

He then made his way to the Inn. While he never really came around much, he could tell that the current patrons of the Inn were surprised to see him. These men had likely never seen a Lord enter an Inn where they were drinking before. However, there were a lot of things that the men had never seen until they came to this world. If they were expecting him to join them for a drink, then they would have keep waiting for a while. Caelis came for a good reason. He walked towards a table where a certain armored lady sat. Rumor was that she had sat here for a while, but she was an asset to the Colony that couldn't be ignored. Thus, Caelis came to her to find her. She looked at Caelis and Caelis bowed and said "Lady Helysourne... are you perhaps familiar with the Cull?"

Summary:
All factions and particular individual talents are invited to the Amphitheatre to perform in the Colony's premier stage. A grand opening celebration is planned.

Zebani Pigment is applied to the Platz's market, the Commons, the Amphitheatre, the Learner's Square, and the general area where the proposed Capital is.

Based on several hints that have been given by the Zebani and the Red Fountain in regards to the Cull, Caelis has concluded that the answer to defeating the Cull lies within those who have gone substantial changes. Particularly, the Tyren born and Walk in Cull are examples of beings who can stand up to the Cull. Thus, the Attolians request that the Tyrenborn allow themselves to study by the Colonists' greatest minds. The Attolians have also concluded that striking first instead of waiting for the Cull is the best option... no the only option if the Colony wishes to survive.

Caelis visits the Inn to hire Lady Helysourne and have her join the investigation into Cull and how to defeat it.

 

[SpiralErrant]

So much to be done, not all of it easily!

So more of them were moving up here were they? It looked like things along the river were about to get more crowded. It was a frustrating thing to Orm, really, here they'd worked so hard to build their little town from scratch and now the lordly types were moving up like it was nothing. The chieftain had almost gotten distraught when they started coming in such numbers.

"What do you mean they want a second house here? I don't want them, I wanted rough and tough types! I want folk who knew a trade! When did we become a rich end of town?" It was maddening!

The flowers were shrinking away whenever Orm walked by as if they were embarrassed to show their blooms around him. The elf magic had some strange effects on things. Folk seemed to like it though. Orm didn't. All he knew for sure was that they shrunk away whenever he was around and folk had taken to calling him "Grey-Day-Orm" well... by folk he meant Shul and Bruul and sometimes Rahg. Bunch of jerks! They bloomed whenever Anuc was around, that was nice, and these days she had more time to spend up in Hrun'Taras... that was nice too.

"It's like we're all living in castles, don't you think chief?"

"Yeah... yeah it's okay I guess." Orm would mumble and shuffle at the dirt awkwardly. She never asked him about all the official caravan stuff, just how his day was going and what he was getting at market. It was nice to take a break from it.

She made much better conversation than Anais did. It had been an awkward thing, getting the smiling pile of jelly and bones up from the beach with the help of a saltwater filled wagon but she seemed pretty happy with their flooded longhouse. She'd greeted them with happy cries of "FRIENDS!" when they found her in her pool on the sands. Orm wanted to think it was a genuinely friendly sort of mockery, there was a vulnerability that haunted Anais's empty eyes and echoing voice. If only she wasn't so creepy! He'd just have to get used to it, at least now Uumush would have competition for scaring the yearlings.

The word spread of Anais had her wealth of knowledge and wisdom, apparently some of the humans by the beach had already gone looking for her just so they could hear what she had to say. Eventaully some of the tyren and elves got over their nerves around her and came with offerings of food and coin for the sea sage's advice on their more desperate matters.

"I just don't know how to get the words out. It's supposed to be the man that makes the first move but he's just so focused on his work."

"Folk keep saying I should let them join their herds with mine - but don't tell no one but my sheep are far better than theirs. Better wool, more meat on their bones but the rams aren't having it no more."

"So it's my mate... well actually it's her mother..."

This wasn't what Anais had been expecting when she was brought here. "I don't think you understand that's not- well that's not what I'm about...." Although her father had eaten a lot of brains. And the memories from those brains held more than just academia, there were emotions and feeling hidden amid it all. And if she was going to be contained to a home then she may as well make her own fun. "Well... I suppose the key would be communication... make them aware of your feelings." And like that this horror from the deep found herself playing the role of Hrun'Taras' agony aunt.

Then one day the chieftain came with some more serious questions.

"So you're a sage of the village now." Orm said as he stood in the doorway of the flooded longhouse, the single most technologically advanced thing in Hrun'Taras with its fancy pump and its slit and other things Orm didn't know how to explain. "So I figured I'd be your first caller." He took a kneeling seat by the pool. "You said you knew some of the history of this land. Do you know anything about something called The Cull?"

[Anais is asked what lore she knows about the Cull
Unsurprisingly she has become something of a local attraction and talking point as the village sage.]

*** Meanwhile, at the mine... ***
Things were advancing faster than either of the two shaman had expected or hoped. None of them could really know what was going to happen when they brought the remains of the ancient wood to the mine but they'd been happy to guess. In their own minds they'd expected it to breath fresh life into the golden logs. Maybe not cause them to sprout new roots but render their magic happy to be bent to the will of some tree singing, maybe they'd have been able to mix it with the stockade or the longhouses. Though Shul wasn't about to admit it he'd liked the idea of having himself a solid gold house. This was a good outcome too, they'd learned more about the workings of the mine, the spirit of its actions and now they'd jump started its potential even further.

Just how deep had it dug? Further than the tyren would have been able to get on their own. By the sounds of it the vines had worked their way around a lifetime of minerals and ore!

Shul and Uumush were frantically calling back to each other as they moved through the golden light of the root-heart. Which was to say, Shul was talking and paving back and forth as he went over the situation. In the end he would differ to the first ring and his elder. When it came to what to try and grab from the vines before they left though Shul knew exactly what to do.

"Silver, I need silver. Damn I'll take gold if you have any." He called out to the spirit as he tapped and poked at the organic panel of controls in the main chamber.

While he was at that Uumush was forced to go over the tome in his hands as he decided on the future of the vines as he exerted a fresh wave of willpower over them. He wouldn't give the remaining pieces of ancient wood over to it yet. If Orm was here he would no doubt advise caution and patience... so Uumush would act as his chieftain would have. Besides, the spirit was reacting strongly to what it had so far, better to let it grow into this fresh burst of power for fear of overloading its senses and any sanity it had that a mortal could understand and the caravan had risked enough tampering with this place and the cliffs already. They'd let the mine get used to this change and watch for what became of it. For now they'd consult the tome and the tree singers and see if anything could still be done with it and if not then it could go to the heart. Or the mine as Uumush had decided.

"You are curious though, right? I am. All the stuff we worked out from the woodlings well who knows what this thing could lead to." Shul ranted on.

Uumush would only nod. He was curious, only a dim with wouldn't be. But the caravan was entering an age of stone and metal and the wee woods were joining them in it. These ancient and powerful things had had their day, what these vines would find would feed those who's time was yet to come. The rings had decided and when their task was done they would go back to the sylvan and see where their work took them.

[Decisions are made:
The "heart" serves the mine.
Shul asks for silver from the mine.
Uumush does not give the final unit of ancient wood.
When the shaman get back to town they ask the treesingers and the tome to see if there is any way the ancient wood can be used in their tree singing as it is now. Can it be used to augment the stockade? Can it be used to help heal Will the ent?]

Then came the highborn!
Prince Vaethorion

It was like like a strange haunting from their past for the tyren to see strangers wander in to start setting up tents near their homeland. It stung Orm's pride a little to see that they'd rather build their own places rather than move into Hrun'Taras like so many of the other fops but some practical thinking soon helped him see the upside of it. If they kept building up here and the town grew to join up with this little outcrop and the Reinen holdfast then soon they'd have a town rivaling the platz. Maybe with time the markets would start to move closer to the river and Orm and his folk wouldn't have to travel so much.

It certainly brightened things up when the Highborn chief arrived with his escort of guards. Orm laid out the welcome wagon, so to speak, with arms wide open and flowers in full bloom. This was a prideful moment for him, as one of the leaders of an elder race had come along to see the first Tyren village ever made. It was like an old hand coming along to break bread with a greenhorn. Orm was no builder and knew he couldn't do it justice but he could show off the tree song wood mixed with the living rock of the mine and the bright quartz stones. By now most folk had gotten a chance to go down to the learners square and with all the extra translators on hand talking to each other was easier than it had ever been.

"And here we got Will." Orm said, motioning to the sleeping ent. "I 'aint gotten to talk to him yet. I dunno what the Muurdaan did to him but he's still resting it off. Not right, that kind of thing." He had a dark look about him whenever he saw the ent as he was now, curled up like some great sleeping hill. Governments, lords and all their names had meant little to Orm when he was a traveler, a Muurdaan was little different to some local mayor in his eyes.

Now though, the word Muurdaan would darken Orm's mood and talking of them would usually get a snort of displeasure from him. Muurdaan was a word for slavers, torturers, folk who took all because they could. If there was one thing the earthen Tyren and the haughty elves could bond over it was mutual disdain for a common foe.

"And over there's Anais' house, we can stop by there later if you want. Say hello, Anais!" Orm's shouting got a wobbling wave from a translucent green figure in the shadows of the longhouse. "We're gettin a inn over there in the hall with the nice flowers. Goin' in with the fox's over it. They were a bunch of shits at the beach but they 'aint goin' anywhere. Gotta make things work with 'em somehow." And the tour went on until they got to Orm's own longhouse.

This was where they got down to the business that they'd come to discuss. One thing stood out above all others. "I agree. We'll need to fight soon. Cull or elves, war is coming." Orm nodded solemnly. He was tired of seeing the river as something that caged him in, just keeping the dark forest at bay.

They needed to show the native clans they could stand their own. The mercenaries needed loot to help pay their way. And Orm needed a release, it'd been too long since he'd embraced the rage and there were enough reasons to unleash it on these mud elves. It was during these talks that they showed the lost pottery and the giant ram like skull that was branded with bull iron.

"We found this at the cull trees. We've had it twice now... folk calling us the Paani and here's their proof." He pushed the mosaic towards the elves, the one that showed the giant ram creature as it pointed the the minotaurs, elves, humans and other things on their way to their deaths. "There is a lot of history lost to us tyren, homelands that only live in legend... the birthlands we call them. Most thought this was just a story for yearling but then we found this... these great horns could bend blood-touched and elves to their will, make them blind themselves and go as sacrifice. Cities of minotaurs and elves before this one lost to time. All we know for sure is it's east, and we have to get therough mud elf lands to reach it." Orm let that hang in the air, what this could mean for both races was a weighty thing, something that could be too heavy for some to bear but for Orm it was a driving force. A mystery he had to solve.

So the preparations got to being made! Some of the stone working craftbulls were sent down the way to help the slim and weaker elves to help put up their watchtower. Adding that to the stockade's security could only help the people of the hills sleep better at night.

Then there was their building experiments. If the colonists were going to get all their fighters together then they may as well arm them proper. The tyren could offer up their closely guarded skills in making bull iron. The stuff may have been heavy for humans and elves but it was harder than any iron around and its way of fighting off dark spirits and violent ghosts was something that the platz dwellers would appreciate Orm bet. On top of it Orm offered up the use of the ballista that watched over the stockade. The highborn chief had spoken of some crafter or inventor of sorts he had working on making more of those in an elf design with special arrow heads. Bruul and Orm assumed that giving them something to work off of would only make it easier... damn the thing made it over the sea in little pieces and got put together like nothing, that had to be something of worth.

There was only one thing they disagreed on in a big way.

"We won't be sending the tyrenborn with these scouts. Elves they might be but all the woodkin left are children by the standards of elves, they themselves have said so. These little bull elves have gotten strong since their time in the mine but they've only learned the bow cus all their people do. All their warrior kin left before they could teach them. If we send them across the river we send farmer boys off to war with a stick and a slap on the back." Bruul grumbled, standing his ground.

"I promised Belanor and Anfel and all these wee woods here that I would help keep them safe." Orm said, slowly nodding his head. "I've heard elves talk before about how few they are... about how they treat each life of their own like gold and diamonds. And these five are the only ones of their kind in the world, elf of body and tyren of spirit. They're a future that cannot be traded. But... they want to fight for their home and I've no right to tell them they can't. So if they're to be scouts and sneaks I'd see them do it right. They'll go but ONLY if your master sneak or spy, or whatever you call him will teach them his ways himself first. Only if when he's done teaching them he can look me in the eye and give his word of honour that if they were his clansmen highborn then he would feel right in bringing them with him."

Bruul piped in his own extra wisdom. "Besides, if you take them along not knowing what they're doing they'll likely get your own team killed anyway."

[2 skilled tyren workers sent to aid the highborn in building their watchtower.
TYREN JOIN THE SMITHS GUILD, 2 skilled tyren workers bring their knowledge of bull iron. They're excited by talk of hybrid metals and lighter works.
tyren offer the highborn access to the Muurdaan designed balista to help their artificer work on their design. This siege machine is easily disassembled and reassembled compared to other balistas.
The tyrenborn wont be helping the spymaster's team scouting mission. Counter offer: The highborn spymaster takes the 5 of them on as aprentices and trains them in stealth and ambush first since the glade guard left before they got any training or experience.]