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

[Beckoncall]

general ostruppen :

"Just chatting with the bartender also along the story ask about how the market is doing" :

Travis lines up another 5 lackluster beers, and inquires about the state of the market...

"Good question -- wasn't so long ago they only sold what we could hunt and gather here, but now we got all sorts of fine wares -- just not the labor to keep it all in great stock. Which was fine until recently, because there wasn't too many of us -- but population of the colony is booming... I reckon the winter will make for some harsh trades when people realize they are short of tools and high on baubles.

The Market itself had an issue with grifting, but we reckon it all got sorted out when the criminal element in the depression gave up the ghost. Now everyone pays a small tithe to Gentleman Harud, and he makes sure nobody tries to pull protection. Even if you don't need protection, it's custom of the market to make sure the exiles get a little cut that way -- the reasons is complicated, but they bled for us in the war against the mud-elves and they brought in all the food when they just got here, so we cut 'em scraps.

Attolians have financial incentives for any private businesses or businesses with a profound benefit on the colony -- it was in response to a massive influx of wealth when we were trading with the UNDEAD of all cursed folk, they bought everything we had -- threatened to cause inflation everyone was so rolled in coin. Government levied the market to get their share -- which prevented money from becoming worthless, but so many factions had their hand in the kitty the Attolians had to come to the rescue again and infuse the market with wealth so that people didn't wind up in arms.

You ask me, I'd say there is as little as 50k moving around in the market, and the majority of wealth in the colony is caged up in the coffers of the factions. Healthy economy has money that moves -- but I reckon we'll see much more business right before winter, and a big uptick in trading once we know how bad winter can be in the region.

But for the price of your beers -- I tell you a correction in the market is coming. Lotta people running around the guilds, lotta stuff sold but not enough for sale. Expect a correction in the market before winter, my thirsty friend...

Hey -- I got a sample of "Walkin' Dream Soda" from the Fennec if your constitution ain't feeling the beer yet -- how about one on the house, maybe you like it and tell your folk?"

 

[Beckoncall]

Prince Vaethorion :

The highborn are too strapped for labor, but once the lavish baths of their own are built, the work teams for those jobs move into the learners square to quickly put together the grand in size (but no-one would argue marginally less lavish) public baths for the general populace.

The use of Ceramic heaters and "Blacksilver" coal make the baths warm and truly pleasurable.

(HIGHBORN GAIN +3 Influence) -- This improves the health and happiness of the entire colony.

....that said... there is no labor to yet produce cloth... but the offer of Exotic luxury food to the Tyren SpiralErrant is made in a timely fashion in an attempt to procure an even stream of wool in the opposite direction...

 

[Beckoncall]

Prince Vaethorion General Deth Glitch :

Prince, do not be remiss in stating exactly how many and of what types of troops you earmark to send to fight the cave fishers if the Firebeards get a force together...

Grimdr, Please post whether you accept the diamond hammer (and whether you question how a high elf could come to posess such a thing) -- also note that the high elves have provided superior smithing elements, but are not receptive to you taking them down to your holdfast -- hoping instead you will join the blacksmith guild and do work on the surface with other races. Response appreciated.

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon :

"Allied Artist requires clarification. Prepared for what?" :

The repaired automaton looked to the rest of the regiment, that seemed struggling for an answer that was not the same as was just provided...

"Prepared for THE SPIRE. SPIRE 9 DESIGNATE DESTRUCTION. SPIRE N DESIGNATE VICTORY. DESTRUCTION AWAITS. ARE YOU PREPARED?"

Nicholas paused... he thought he saw where this was going, but was not going to risk being a punching bag for over a score of broken automatons.

"Allied Artist uncertain. Much confusion... Allied Artist requests entry to the Spire."

"YOU ARE PREPARED. FOLLOW UNIT TO SPIRE 9"

"It's NAME is destruction!?" He mused to himself. Great way to lay out the welcome mat....

.....

The repaired automaton pulled to the back of the regiment, and did a take, double take and triple-take to signal Nicholas to walk in formation with them.

"Artist unknown quantity -- Few spires remain... how can artist remain?"

"Repairs of Artist are true. Hopefully degredation can be reversed. Perhaps Key'ed one can be next?"

Nicholas was marched beyond where any other colonist had gotten to before being stopped... the base hill of the spire was overgrown with ivies, green in their final feet, but the older parts of the vines, which seemed to grow from above rather than below, were a blood red. The ivies covered many interesting things... One thing Nicholas noticed as he was marched past the lower "paraded ground" towards a cave-tunnel that took them up the winding rise of hills to the spire itself was a collection of marble carvings... of minotaurs wearing blindfolds, amid taller ones who seemed to have grown their horns literally over their eyes and carved them with runes. Standing with them were little satyrs, Centaurs with crowns of laurel, and great ram-headed beings seemingly in some greeting or assembly to one or two other groups -- but the carvings were obscured by Ivies...

The tunnels were lightless, but upon entering the darkness little lights flickered on from the pinholes of the automatons -- creating an utterly ineffectual diffusion of light to ward the dark, but allowing them to scan everything on their own. Nicholas kept pace with his feet until he came into the light again.

200 yards of winding path trough scree, sprinkled liberally with broken automatons, in scattered pieces -- the finds here were far more precious and easy than anything at the base of the hill, but Nicholas dared not gather them... they passed through another hill, which seemed to have been a structure of some kind first that just BECAME a hill over the ravages of time. it too was a narrow tunnel, facilities that might have existed to the right and left were flooded with mud and rock, collapsed and obviously messily cleared through for the tunnel to make way to the spire. near the exit to the tunnel lay the powdered bones and skull of some type of humanoid in it's own Automaton-style armor.

"Destruction's last Ar.Ar.Artist. Do not disturb." one of the automatons sputtered.

Nicholas wouldn't dare. Before him twin counterweights pulled up a massive slab of black metal, allowing him entry into the spire...

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was a perfect mix of bare, and a mess inside the spire... Nicholas wondered what secrets would reside here -- and there was one -- it appears the walls, once dressed in metals and devices, had been shattered millenia ago to be cannibalized for parts. Before the final iterations of automatons stood before him in decay today, they had done a fine job of devouring their own infrastructure to keep themselves in order. In one corner was a HUGE octahedron of green stone, and various pieces of flaky brown rock. The repaired one was cognizant to notice Nicholas remarking upon it.

"Great breakers attacked city. Spires 7-11 direct fire upon it, Transmute breaker and attack in force. Great breaker motionless for fourhundred years, then begins digging. Enemy re-engaged. Losses massive, but we take brain-stone. Breaker is decoration now...

...Much like spire is decoration?"

Nicholas was quiet.

"Stairs. many stairs. A top is the Key'ed one. Are you prepared?"

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

[Zaltusinel]

The Seeker Returns
[At the Start of the Music Ryleon Plays]
"All arts report to the pilgrimage of hope that has lurked and shined inside of our souls."
​

Nylorian Dragon (Is not on post)

Sundown. Awakening. Beginning. Some of the few words that passed the Vengeful's(Kuva's) mind, each step carted him away from the ever silent fountain. The lights of the colony, of the Platz chose to not fade. They planted themselves inside homes and lampposts around, the night approaches and with its first kiss to its heroes placed soon upon them. The Vengeful nodded as colonists swooped by him, desperate pleas to lust him into the goods, but he moaned his head as the traders thrust their wares. Last hour competition it seemed to the Vengeful; the sweat on the brows from the sun, the urgency in their breaths, and the feverish tidy of their workstations for the night. 'Seems these humans have no regrets, nothing to lose. In such a timed life... to the stars of the night, the shortness is cruel. Hehe, for them maybe not.' The wind curled as slight thought. The smells of the market grazed the Vengeful, but the smells he hardily remembered. He continued, jogging and pushing lightly the occasional merchant. Following the music he heard. Jadius and his other companion
followed behind.

The Vengeful stopped in a particular institution that smelled somewhat of the wine he sampled of the highborne. He called upon his kin, letting them reach him before he entered what was to be the inn closest to the opened vault.

general ostruppen Beckoncall

 

[General Deth Glitch]

​

Grimdr greets the Dwarf, who introduces himself as Lord Kulger, son of Ultensan and the commander of the other Dwarvish faction. "Well met, Kulger. I be simple Grimdr, I speak on beha'ff o' me people because there nowt else who will. My good lord, ya did indeed 'ear right. I am interested in such talks, 'owever there is much for me to do. Dangers to stave off and deals to make with thems who already be here. I offer my hold to your people until such a time as you have one yourself. The sleeping be simple but its warm and safe. You may store your stuff in one of our empty rooms as well. I am sure my fellow Firebeards will happily help you carry your supplies where ya need 'em. However I m'self must be off. Good luck and Im sure we be able tae talk soon!" he said before informing his kin of the situation and then plodding back up the hill, some followed with him but most stayed and began introducing themselves. If Grimdr said they were good folks, most were happy to take his word for it. Some were, naturally, more cautious but followed the lead of the other Dwarves and tried their best not to start a fight. general ostruppen

-----------------------------------------------------------
​

Not long after arriving back at the firebeard hold and organising more labour he was informed that the Prince of the Highborn was requesting they meet. Such affairs were exactly those to which he was referring when he made his hasty exit from the other Dwarves and immediately set off to meet with the tall creature. When he arrived he was greeted with such immense fanfare. He was presented with poems and a speech. Grimdr was a simple folk, as were his people, and as such all of this was met more with confusion then the real respect it deserved. Nonetheless he thanked them and, not used to such formal talks requested a moment to talk with the Dwarves who came along with him. They huddled together and all that could be seen as they talked was a bundled mess of hair, wrapped in armour. "What say you? Such resources would no doubt make our hold the greatest in this new world for as long as time go by, however we cannot keep to ourselves forever, not yet atleast. We need allies and we already intend to help use our craft to help arm this colony against the Demons as well as more imminent threats. We cannot stop the demonic tide ourselves." Such talks continued points and counter points drifted across the circle. The only sign from without as to whom was talking was the jostle of hair about where they stood in the huddle. Suddenly the mass of hair sank down then jumped up. Then the huddle broke up. "Aye, good lord... we accept. I wont keep no secret from our new allies. I had indeed hoped to work in our own hold, I hope you understand. We are most comfortable deep below. However.. I accept. May we be true friends. With these promises, these tools and." He stopped, to address his own Dwarves as well as the tall folk. "And these friends. With these friends, and all.. all the good all the people of this land have shown us.. I know, I know deep in my heart!" he began to tear up a little, he finnally felt like he could make a real home for his people here. "I Know, Deep, deep down below in my heart. We are home. Dracos shines down on us. Dracos watches over this land and I know I was not mistaken. I did right by you, lads, lasses. I did right by taking us here and not we must repay this colony in kind! LET US TO WORK! The quicker we get to work the better it befits the colony. Now, good lord." He once more focused his attention on the Prince "I must prepare for our fights with the evil creatures of the land. I must leave you and.. and its not for me to question your ability to supply such... perfect tools. Aye, indeed. With this hammer I will ensure the most powerful runes watch over the great weapons that defend this colony!" Prince Vaethorion

-----------------------------------------------------------​

Thanks were sent to all those that promised their help in their Cave fisher threat.

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As the Dwarves were about trying to be of as much a help as they could another ship arrived in to port. They paid little attention until they saw the Rhunk. A few of the longerbearded folk excused themselves from the new Dwarves and immidiately began enquiring about the Rhunk. "Aye there. I be Fenbar, where 'bouts you find them Rhunk? Our people will pay well for a few o' them, they more 'n just beasts of burden to us, though they fine at that too! I also think your Winmags be beautiful. May I also ask about them? They could do wonders for m' people.

-----------------------------------------------------------​

Actions:

-Grimdr accepts the Highborn deal and promises to return the kindness.
-Thanks sent to all those helping with the Cave Fishers.
-Fenbar enquires about the Rhunk and Winmags
-Offer of lodging and storage extended to the new faction. general ostruppen

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Attolians offer the following aid to the Firebeards for the Cave Fisher Problem:

2 Augmented Stone Constructs
5 Halberdiers
5 Constables
Dr. Fleming for medical help and potential disection/analysis of the cave fishers
1 Wealth to Hire Aymaran aid. They seem to enjoy eating these things and with great ease too. Hopefully many will be interested in being paid to eat.


Attolians offer the following for the Theater District Expedition:

Cassandra w/ bloodscourge, ivory sceptor, braidmail and vase (light armor mode w 2 arms)
2 Sundered Kings
2 Augmented Stone Constructs
5 Halberdiers
5 Constables
Zebani Silver Bell

 

[Spacekitty]

TO THE ATTENTION OF ALL FACTIONS:

DECISION POINT:

Firebeard Dwarves seek assistance in clearing their domain of cave fishers... lots of them, and a really big ancient one. IF YOU INTEND TO HELP WITH THIS PROJECT: POST IN IC AND OOC THREAD THE NUMBER OF TROOPS YOU ARE SENDING TO ASSIST.

DECISION POINT:

St. VICTORIANS ARE PLANNING INCURSION INTO THE THEATER DISTRICT TO CLEAR IT OUT. IF ANY PLAYERS WISH TO OFFER MATERIAL, ITEMS, TROOPS OR THE LIKE, LIKEWISE POST IN THE IC AND OOC THREAD.

WHEN TEAMS SEEM SUFFICIENT OR TIME ELAPSES, GROUPS, IF FORMED, WILL TAKE THE FIGHT TO THE FISHERS AND LONGDEAD, RESPECTIVELY.

If I kill your monsters, you'll kill mine?
((To be included in main post, but getting this out in the open))
As part of an agree made with the Firebeard Dwarves, the Finecian's agree to provide assistance by sending the Dwarves additional troops, Grump the Troll, Andrei (Capo-Illusionist Assassin), Jonti (Capo-Illusionist), Sontio (Capo-Fighter), 10 thugs, and 5 skilled brewers/nurses (They would merely know how to brew certain medicines, not true doctors save first aid).
((1 Troll, 3 Capo, 10 thugs, 5 Skilled Workers))

 

[Spacekitty]

We have our hands full, but we can spare some "specialists"
The Finecians apologize to the Victorians for not being able to contribute much to the expedition, stating they have their hands full helping with the state building the Dwarve's Cave Fisher infestation and maintaining supply of their goods, but they will send six of their best crossbowmen to help provide fire support for their team.
((6 Skilled Thugs))
Enemy Standoo

Perhaps some hired help may fill the void?
The Finecians wish to help the Victorians as best they can, and therefore have taken PERSONAL initiative to spend 1 WEALTH POINT to hire workers from the free labor pool (exiles, kobolds, freemen, etc) to join the expedition as Finecian representatives and help the Victorians. Of course, the Finecians would ask that they (The Finecians) get a cut of loot in return for helping.

Perhaps Harud could help the Finecians spread word and gather a suitable crew? Beckoncall Enemy Standoo

FORCES RECRUITED: 10 brutes and a Scarred

TOTAL TROOPS BROUGHT: 10 Amaryan Brutes, a Scarred and 6 Skilled THugs

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

General Deth Glitch Beckoncall
The Highborn would help out the Dwarves as requested, but was unsure what this might entail. Caves were not their favorite places by any stretch of the imagination. The Highborn thought to buy some of these Cave Dwelling mounts for the purpose of fighting the Cave creatures.
Instead of a straight up fight, the Highborn wanted to know if there was a weakness of the creatures to exploit, or a weapon they could make for the purpose. Perhaps a Harpoon with a very deadly point fired from a Cannon like gun with gunpowder.

KamiKahzy Spacekitty
if something like a tablet. smoke might harm these creatures or perhaps a poison/neurotoxin? Perhaps the Rat Kin could formulate something to paralyze these creatures? The Highborn were familiar with many means to paralyze fish and other creatures from lore and knowledge over the years for example, naturally occurring cyanide, chloride of lime (bleaching agent), or more natural less toxic means are available like Black walnuts crushed with Quartzite can be placed in water which acts as a neurotoxin, Chestnuts would also work, the toxic leaves of Clibadium if available might work, in jungles tribes used Barbasco, some used sea cucumber, and there are other poison plants like fisher berries that have been used to either poison or paralyze creatures.

There is a poem:
Soon as the deadly Cyclamen invades
The Ill starred fishes in their deep sunk glades
...The slowly working bane
Creeps o'er each sense and poisons every vein
Then pours concentrated mischief on the brain,
Some drugged, like men o'er come like with recent wine,
Reel to and fro, and stagger thro the brine;
Some in quick circlets ware: some against the rocks
Dash, and are stunned by re-percussive shocks;
Some with quenched orbs, or filmy eyeballs thick,
Rushes on nets in the meshes stick,
In coma steeped their fins more feebly ply,
Some in titanic spasms gasp and die.
Soon as the splashings cease and stillness reigns,
The jocund crew collect, and count their gains.

Order: Find our neurotoxin that might work to kill or paralyze Cave Fish


For the Fishing expedition they offer.
Tactician.
5 Swordmasters
10 Spearman
10 Archers
Highborn Tamer+Cave Cyclops (makes sense if it's a Cave cyclops might be able to be used in cave)

The Highborn Offers Shark flesh, God Rot Mud fish (food) to Amaryans (on top of the Attolians offers of wealth) and Fennec to bring Amaryans (most suited for eating these things and swimming into the Fray).

General Deth Glitch
The Highborn DO NOT recommend a straight up fight, and the Tactician will be consulted for a strategy. Perhaps the Firebrand Dwarves and Highborn can come up with special spears to penetrate their Carpace along with the Harpoon gun, poison and traps can be used.
Giant traps

or:

Order:
Make metal nets suitable to capture or slowdown the Creature (s)

Order:
-find out weakness of creatures.
-use Large traps and nets to capture Fisher kings.
-Build harpoon gun with Firebrand dwarves to kill or capture fish (perhaps use Highborn ballista prototype if this is more expedient) General Deth Glitch
-Highborn Tactician is tasked with coming up with a plan of attack.
- Bribe Amaryans for help Promise lots of food try to convince Amaryan leader to help.
-Ask Fennec and Ratkin about Neurotoxins to kill, slow down, and or paralyze Cave fish. Spacekitty / KamiKahzy

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Nicholas marvelled at the sights that he saw. Imagine what the spire looked like a millennia ago. The things he could have learned! Regardless, there was already much to learn about these constructs, and as he walked into the Spire... he only had more. It appeared that the soldiers could repair themselves and each other seeing how the metal was stripped and the only things that seemed operational around here were the automaton soldiers. Nicholas could not help but wonder... if the soldiers were just given iron... could they repair themselves? Many questions still raced through his head. Then there was the sight of the huge green stone. It was in the shape of a near perfect octahedron. Gods knew what the stone exactly was, but he wondered if the great breaker that they were referring to was the stone colossus near the quarry. It seemed to make sense to him after all there were many pieces of automatons around the giant, which now stood still as a statue.

Could that behemoth be woken up again with this 'brain stone' that the automatons referred to? It was a fearsome thought, but it also raised more questions. Why was the giant attacking the city? Why did it start digging? If the Spire attempted to stop the giant, then these clockwork soldiers were clearly allied with the city... that would also mean that the Zebani were their enemies as well seeing how the Zebani were instructed to destroy the city. Was the great breaker then perhaps one of the mysterious mage built? It certainly seemed impressive enough to be of such illustrious reputation. Nicholas could see the intricate web of this millennia old pact starting to reveal itself. The scary part was that these constructs and the Zebani likely think that they are still at war. Thus, the Colony would have to tread carefully to not find itself involved in this seemingly endless war of attrition for it was not one that they could afford.

Then there was the looming issue that remained at hand. The Keyed One. Perhaps it was their leader. A superior construct like the Zebani have, but it appeared that this Keyed one required repairs. The constructs seemed to believe that he was their ally from another spire. However, did any of the other Spires still exist? Were these the lone survivors of the war? It seemed to be a sad existence, but Nicholas couldn't help but wonder if these constructs could be repurposed. Thus, he had to continue deeper into the enigma with caution. Nicholas replied "Yes, let us go see the Key'ed one."

---

The Elven Sloop of War was loaded and ready to depart. While it was smaller than the Attolian Merchantman, it would be swift and make the journey quicker with less manpower that they needed. The sloop bore a lot of goods that were bound for the Old World, and would make a few stops. The Capital, Attolia, and a Highborn Outpost. While the trip would likely take a significant amount of time, it seemed worth it and not just economically, but politically as well. The Empire still had its grasp on the Colony, and not hearing back would be disconcerting for them. They would be bound to send an expedition if they didn't hear from the Colony. Thus, to keep the Empire at bay, it seemed wise to meet them first before they sent a large expedition. The ship was loaded and the crew were designated. The HIgh Born indicated that they were ready, and so did the Attolians. Thus, there was nothing left stopping the ship with its crew of 34, consisting half Attolian and half Elven sailors. Plus, there were 4 passengers, Lothar and three High Born dignitaries. Although Lothar suspected that he would have to do a lot of the talking for the tradeship. The Capital was a dangerous place to be slow with the tongue, and even more dangerous to be slow with the sword. However, he expected things to be smooth. Although he was 2nd born, Lothar was still Attolian Nobility. His blood meant something and that something would help keep this ship safe. Besides, the Wolff family had not heard a word from them. It was about time that they heard of the accomplishments that the Attolian Colonists had made. Thus, with a good wind, and hopeful hearts, the Elven Sloop of War began its journey back to the Old World, filled with riches, stories, and purpose.

---

The Castellan met up with the Captain of the Traders. There were somethings that he wanted to establish and ultimately make a deal. The gems found in the ruins of the Agora District were valuable, but not here. They would only end up being worth 20,000 as is. However, the Geologist determined that the gems could reasonably find a price of 40,000 among traders. Thus, the Castellan made his way to the Traders and secured the trade. The Attolians were low on funds, and this would help make a bit of a buffer. However, there was still much to do. Particularly when the remaining retinue and crew of Mrs. Narvik were still detained in the Port. Without a doubt they were anxious. They might even try to ram the port wall like the Admiral threatened. Thus, they had to be addressed. The Castellan went to their ship, which they largely remained in. Perhaps it was because they feared that the former slaves would come after them as well, but they rarely left the ship. Regardless, once there, the Castellan addressed the one who seemed to be taking lead and said in his syrupy voice

My deepest sympathies to you all. Despite doing a great job ... the Fennec just had to have a party and let over a hundred slaves free suddenly in the proximity of the Narvik. I find it hard to see why you should be held responsible. But, alas... House Narvik will demand your blood. It is understandable why you all plan to flee with the riches. But, a life on the run and in constant fear is not life. House Narvik will hunt you down as running with their ship will be the equivalent of spitting in their face. However, gentlemen... have you considered paying the Narvik blood gelt? Sure this ship, cargo and coins are all Narvik property, so this won't be considered payment by the Narvik. However, this is a new world filled with treasure. There are fortunes to be made here for the bold. If you're willing to risk your lives running, then won't you consider risking your lives in order to try to save your lives and make yourselves a life of wealth and comfort that you couldn't imagine? Just a few days ago, a few of the Attolian laborers found a bunch of gems that were worth 40,000 gold by digging through some ruins. Won't you consider working for the Colony and try to earn a life and a fortune for yourselves?

---
Summary:

Nicholas begins to climb the stairs to visit this Key'ed One

The Attolian-High Born Tradeship departs once it is ready with cargo and crew

1 Unit of Gems sold for 4 Wealth

The crew and retinue are invited to work for the Colony and earn enough money to pay off the Narvik. If they're willing to risk their lives by going on the run, then doesn't risking their lives to live a life of wealth and comfort a better option? Besides, these men should get a second chance.

 

[Enemy Standoo]

"Water for Master Waters"

"Magnificent. Truly a work of art." Elien was grinning ear to ear as she walked down the aisle of the newly opened church. She had come to inspect and study at the humble building site many a time when her duties allowed but this was all together another matter. The master of the distant tower strode down the isle as a steel clad bride. The light of sacred artifice sparked fire against her armour and embers along her blazing tabard. With the rising of the lighthouse the Order of Saint Victoria had announced their arrival and through the opening of these chapel doors they said to the world that they were here to stay.

Squires, monks and devout lined the pews in quiet contemplation, so relieved to have a place of worship larger than a townhouse kitchen. There would be no official opening ceremony for this frontier church -- wasn't that a phrase that undersold things -- the duties and upcoming attempt at cleansing the undead hive put too many of their major hands on high alert. When the time came the honour would be served by the first service that would be held for the faithful. No doubt in the regular rotation would fall to the monks and the more socially talented knights but today, for this first gathering, it would go to the high cleric, Sulthus Curoi.

Curoi was adopted by the order as a child when his village was burned down by dwarven raiders, the stories among the squires said that he had been found half naked and covered in ash by a wandering knight. History said he was once a champion among the devout during his youth but those days were far behind him. What remained was a dour, quiet, frail old man. If cannonate Curoi had even a shred of charisma left in him it was now buried deep. Sulthus took the philosophy of looking to the scripture for guidance to a new extreme, quoting it as an answer for every question, advice for every situation. Elien had no doubt that there was no one living who knew the scripture better than her high cleric. Faith and study had made Curoi a living embodiment of the Victorian faith and with it came the power he carried within him and channeled through prayer. On paper it made him a powerful ally to bring to the new world and a living symbol that a new chapter could rally around, yet Elien suspected that this was another case of the order's internal politics as the more savvy clerics retired a potentially powerful and insular rival to the new world. If Elien had had her way she would have retired the old man to see out his last days at the citadel or an established chapter in the country.

'To Curoi, the order is freedom, and everything else in the world is a trap.' That was what they told her when the higher ups told Elien who would be coming to mind t he temple. She felt sorry for the sad old man, thrown to the wilds. To her he looked like every little girl's favourite grandfather, she could only hope that his past vigor and present faith would help spread the word and strengthen their chapter before he went to the reliquary.

It was Sir Domision who would reignite her fire. "Have you seen the signs they've been putting up around town? Street of the gods!" He scoffed a bitter sneer at the name.

"We will leave that matter for now, Brother Domision. The dragon cult has proven itself a peaceful neighbor for now. Until that matter changes then our contest with them shall be a peaceful one. If I may paraphrase the good book, Father Curoi, Let light shine from our deeds and countenance and like ships in the night the gracious will be drawn to us." Elien waved her hand before pressing the holy tome into Curoi's hands.

The old priest smiled meekly. "For though you stand in light, all must cast a shadow. If thy actions be worthy do not shrink away to console the wayward."

"My thoughts exactly, Father, and it is with that in mind that I ask your blessing." Elien would go on to lay the elven claymore upon the altar and took a knee as the other knights who would join her in the theatre district took their places and lay their weapons down to receive holy blessing before they went to deliver everlasting rest to the unliving. If all went well then it wouldn't be needed, but none of them had lived through such battles by walking in unprepared.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The walls of the garrison were all white and grey, unadorned and simple, if a newcomer wasn't careful they could easily get turned around and lost within these limited halls. But Elien was not new, and as an architect in training she had gone over the designs for this place a thousand times. Unsurprisingly the majority of her training consisted of chapels, churches, temples, and cathedrals. And to the Victorian order buildings of faith and military fortresses were one and the same. For they were soldiers on the front line in the eternal war for the soul. In the end Elien had decided against the idea of turning their founding church into a potential death trap. If its walls were ever to be breached then faith and fury would only push the defenders of the faith to greater heights. But this excellent work had truly opened Elien's eyes to what the knights under her command were capable of.

CRACK ......... CRACK ............ CRACK ........................ CRACK

The sound rang through the hallway as Elien made her way to the small number of cells in their garrison. One of the monks standing as guard and standby medicus for the one within. They offered polite protests as Elien got closer only to be interrupted by The echoing voice of Sir Tarkus.

"She may enter."

"Sir Tarkus I can wait until your meditations are done. I would not want to interrupt-"

"No, Chapter Master, I am finished and I would- I would prefer your presence."

Elien entered the cloister to find Tarkus placing the knotted switch he had been using to flagellate himself with the same reverence he would the collection plate. Tarkus was older than the other knights of the chapter and it showed upon his body.The defined lines of human contouring and rigid muscles had faded long ago and his skin had started to sag and wrinkle, yet Elien could still see the effects of a devout's training on him. Lashed and bloody as he may have been Tarkus still looked as if he was made of the stone he worked with.

"You have been a credit to the chapter, Brother Tarkus. You've helped shape the foundations of this chapter. Now it is time for us to start our offensive. I have some designs for you, Tarkus."

Elien had been soaking cloth strips and bathing the fresh wounds inflicted on her brother knight's back. For such a seemingly intimate act an outsider would have been startled by how business like, almost casual the two knights were about the matter. Elien would be quick about the following matter, she had learned how dearly Tarkus valued his time for meditation and isolation.

"A fountain, Chapter Master?"

Elien didn't bother nodding. "We must win hearts and minds. If the uneducated are to understand the darkness that lives among them then we must show its pure reflection."

"I think I understand." Tarkus didn't wince as the strips were removed from his back. He was used to it by now.

"I was thinking that it would be located outside the garrison and give us something to expand a courtyard around in time. Sir Prisha has worked in the sewers between these places and once we can work a slot for the blue tear into the base of the fountain it could assist in channeling water."

Tarkus nodded along and though he didn't have a quill to hand Elien was sure that he was already making mental changes to the notes she had placed out before him. "I can work on a way to protect it from theft from ground level."

And with time they would make themselves the new lifeblood of the colony.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Spread the word"

Cannoness Isabella Nazio, great Ord and champion of her order was fast approaching the end of her tenure with the constables of the Platz. Many still eyed her like the harsh school misstress that had never bothered to torment them in their youth, while others avoided her gaze out of the simple fear of gaining her ire and being set to penalty drills. They did not care for her, she was an outsider among them compared to their Attolian taskmasters and she doubted any had ever seen a woman in a warrior's role, let alone had to take orders from them. She couldn't care less what they thought of her personally, her task here was to whip them into shape and scurge the corruption from their minds, not to coddle them as a mother or pine for their friendship like a maid at the harvest fair. Yet a teacher must inspire their pupils, not just see them through the basics, and a knight must safeguard the soul of all under their care.

Today she did not stand before them as assembled ranks, but walked among them as they sparred, correcting stances and offering silent instructions of improvement. And she spoke.

"You think I am too harsh on you. That I act too much the power mad drillmaster shouting at you like poor pack horses. Do you think it comes from hate, that I disdain having to train men who call themselves exiles in their own home, that I am loathe to plae iron and steel in the hands of convicts? You are wrong."

It was here that Isabella took up her own practice sword and stepped into the ring, offering herself up as an opponent. None of them had managed to land a hit on her yet in all their days of training but there were some who made her work harder for it each time.

"I do this because you have been set aside for too long, have only marked yourselves by half your measure for too long. Do any of you know the story of Saint Herbert? A silly sounding name you may think, but this man was once known by another title. Men would kiss the charms of their gods and mothers would frighten their children with stories of 'The beast of cauldron forest'. He once lived as a notorious bandit, leading a gang that terrorized rich and poor alike. Predators who made the shade of the forest paths their hunting grounds... until the day he met Victoria."

Polearms lunged and short blades danced their lightning jig as Lady Nazio gave her lessons martial and spiritual. Each teasing deflection pushing her opponent on, each blunting strike forcing them aside.

"It was in the company of the girl knight that The Beast would learn the error of his way. Before her sword he would kneel and under her eyes he would repent the harm he had caused so many! Yet rather than let him go to the gallows Victoria saved this brigand's life and he begged her to let him walk by her side! Our man Herb, many of my brother knights call him. The saint of the every man, the patron of the lawkeepers and the redeemed and few were the warriors who could match his mighty shield arm. This was a warrior and a man so great his name and deed ring through the ages even to today!"

Few remained who would answer her challenge but if those she had bested had heeded her lessons well then would not make the mistakes that had undone them again.

"Now my chapter bids me see to the training of men who walk in the footsteps of the saint. For make no mistake that is what you do. Each of you, cast out from your homes as criminals, now to walk these streets as the keepers of order. As the keepers of peace! The people of this city may have looked upon you with fear when they first arrived but now they call to you as their protectors. Like Herbert before you, you have stepped forward to be the wardens who stand on the border of the torch's light. When fear overruns their hearts and chaos knocks at their doors it is you who will speak the warden saint's words and stand your ground."

With a speed that belied her years Isabella lunged forward, slashing aside the polearm of her opponent with the fury of a tigress. She held that wooden blade at their throat as if its edge could sever arteries, staring down the tattooed brawler with the same focus of the lighthouse's beam. Yet her voice rose to call to all her pupils.

"Sleep tonight and do not fear! Nothing will harm you in this darkness! No threat or harm shall dare to look upon you! Not as long as I stand! Rest easy now... and we shall stand to greet the dawn together!" The courtyard was quiet. "That is the promise you each make each day you walk these streets and each day you walk in the footsteps of my blessed saint. The promise you make to every man, woman, and child in these new lands. It is a heavy task but it is one you took up willingly, and by this sword I have seen you grow strong enough to carry it each day. By Herbert's grace and on the oath of a knight, you have become something I will look upon with pride. This is why I was so cruel to you, for you shall face crueler evils yet. And for now you shall do it without me. I am called and I return to my warrior saints, which light will guide you best on this path is up to each man here to decide for himself."

And with that Isabela Nazio took her leave of the training square for the last time, her work done and her duties calling her elsewhere. Who would follow her and call of the church's beacon was the business of each man's heart.

At the port:

Repairs went by quickly under the combined efforts of the port authorities. While their cargo was arguably just as repugnant as the slaves when they first arrived at least those making the sales were more palatable to the public's taste. from their deckhands were saying it seemed they were bound for a mining harbour after this leg of their journey.

It appeared they were more inclined to selling over buying but Magda would have been remiss not to inquire after the chance to sell some of the order's excess gains. And of course the location of those rocks they mentioned. Diving may have been out of the question but as lighthouse keepers it was their duty to learn of any dangers.

Action summary:

1. Construction begins on a public fountain outside the barracks to rival the style of the bloody fountain. A slot is to be made in its foundation to house blue tear of divinity.

(3 knights - mason, engineer, metalworker. 20 squires. 5 monks.)

2. Elien and the four knights going on the theatre excursion ask for their swords to be blessed by the high cleric.

3. Canoness Isabella rallies the constables in her training and spreads Victorian ideals through the parables of St Herbert, patron saint of the lawkeepers. (2 influence spent)

4. Sir Magda approaches the new merchants about the location of hidden rocks and diving location they mentioned. She also inquires if they would be willing to trade for the black granite and brown zercon the order has.

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Attolians offer some additional aid. The updated help being offered is here:

2 Augmented Stone Constructs
5 Halberdiers
5 Constables
Dr. Fleming for medical help and potential dissection/analysis of the cave fishers
1 Wealth to convince the Aymaran to help by eating the problems away
1 Unit of Blackpowder (if not used, then I expect this back). However, this can be used to maybe collapse a part of the cave on the Mother Fisher/set up traps.


Attolians offer the following for the Theater District Expedition:

Cassandra w/ bloodscourge, ivory sceptor, braidmail and vase (light armor mode w 2 arms)
2 Sundered Kings
2 Augmented Stone Constructs
5 Halberdiers
5 Constables
5 Lesser Sirens
Zebani Silver Bell

 

[general ostruppen]

Travis's face lit up after hearing the bartender offer a new beer option, "Well eheheh, how could I refuse! Fill er up!". He awaited for his cup to be filled, and immediately took a big gulp of it. As far as he knew it was the best beer he's had since he arrived in this colony.

"I must say friend, this is quite the product. In fact I can already feel me being a bit tipsy from this......Actually do you mind my good man if you could address me your name?"

Result: Learn a bit about the bartender himself/name and establish a starting friendship!
--------------------------------
Meanwhile at the port

After meeting the leader of the Firebeards and greeting with positive results. The group immediately got back to work on getting the rest of the equipment's out of the ship. Darkin and Furkin scrounged up whatever material they had and began to sketch out a rather large cart that would have a hand-propelled handle for the golem suits. After discussing it with Kulger and given the green light, they immediately got to work. Around 30 other skilled workers got to working along with them.

Kulger: Polip....A word please

Polip: *Waddles over quickly* Yes my lord?

Kulger: Has travis returned from the market area?

Polip: As far as I know he seems to be taking his time gathering, it's been quite awhile. However If I had to make an educated guess, I would assume he's at the nearest tavern. Probably quenching his thirst for the finest ale and beer in town.

Kulger: Of course *chuckles*....Well please do go out and fetch sir Travis.

Polip bows and immediately goes out to find Travis, which as soon as he left a small group of elves are seen to approaching his direction. Hopefully they were here to greet with open-minded thoughts or perhaps act disrespectful. Either way he would follow the same policy that has always worked.

Result: Furkin and his brother Darkin along with 30 other dwarves have gotten to work on making two large carts that are suitable for the golem suits to latch on. Beckoncall

Awaiting for the elves to greet Prince Vaethorion

 

[Zaltusinel]

The Seeker Returns Part 2
​

The Vengeful silently entered the tavern, letting his companions follow in suit behind. Jadius let his hood fall upon his shoulder blades as he entered; his eyes followed around the bar as the Vengeful sat a seat from the dwarf whom was drinking away. After a slight tingle of magic entered the scene, the Vengeful relaxed and let the Nightbringer sit beside him. "So Jadius, what do you think of these people so far? So curious aren't they?" The Vengeful laughed as he turned to Jadius, the slight adjustment of his back creaked the stool a little.

"Primitive and lacking. Ore not ingot." Jadius spoke quickly as his hand shifted a small ball of gray shadow. Jadius held his eyes high, letting the flame within their pupils highlight in the tavern.

"I understand friend, I suppose Urun wraps you in talk doesn't he?"

"Yes, I love him. His life, everything is bound to mine. We are untouched by this new summit. I pray he will live, not encounter another Byroa."

"What is a Byroa?" The Vengeful raised his eyebrows.

"A person who kills for death; not for corruption, not for justice, not for anything else. Breaks the rules, and usually extremely apologetic at the end of the spree." Jadius looks towards the Vengeful. "Kuva, I found some coins. Buy a drink. Supposively, the colonists drink this.

"Understood friend, I shall see how this fares. Do you want a sip?"

"Yes." Jadius peers at the dwarf beside the Vengeful, his eyes focused on the liquid in his hands. The Vengeful nodded and layed forth just enough to buy a drink. A few lost coins of the Platz marketplace.

In Ancient Elvish, the Vengeful said, "I'll take what he's drinking."
-----
Summary:

1. The small Nylor party enters and sits beside Travis. They use lost coins to buy a drink, what Travis is drinking.

general ostruppen Beckoncall

​

 

[Beckoncall]

General Deth Glitch :

Inquiries of livestock:

Currently selling the Rhunk 2 for 1 wealth, and the Windmaggots for 10 for 1 wealth -- we know that's pricey, but they were hard to catch and they're HIGHLY exotic livestock, will live for ages, and if you can get them to breed they'll more than pay for themselves. Place any offer, and unless somebody outbids you within a couple of days, the lots you pick are yours. As dwarves we know you'd treat them with the most understanding, so we'll give you an edge if bids are close... The Chaplain is a priest of fortune, and we observe certain... rites of trade.

How many will you be buyin'? Buy a good share and we may throw in a little goods with it, for grace! What say you?

 

[Beckoncall]

PRICES OF TRADE (SO FAR) :

Onboard for trade was:

4 Rhunk (total value 2 wealth/ 2 for 1)

30 Windmaggots (total value 3 wealth/10 for 1)

9 units of Quality Fertilizer (est. 3 wealth total)

4 units of mother of pearl (est 2 wealth each)

1 unit locally-sourced gems (6 wealth)

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon :

The small, nonsectarian chapel consisted of little more than 6 stout pillars, seeded with ives and a strong arched roof of clay tiles. Under this canopy a single Cylindrical Altar squatted, upon which was carved symbols of pantheons and the domains of the gods, and not any particular gods themselves. The humble cemetery seemed fittingly shadowed by the great trees overhead... and friends and kin of the slain were happy to have monuments and a place for funerary rites. Some of the dead were worshippers of Dracos, and as such were burned on pyres symbolizing boats, before their headstones were committed to the cemetery. It was a welcome, if solemn addition to the colony -- and many slept easier not worrying how interested Aymaran brutes become a couple of days after a body lies dead...

_________________________________________________________________________________

As far excavation of the Agora district -- between the mapping that had carefully taken place, the lucky find of the Victorians on the border with the theater district, and Cassandra's capacity to "read" the area -- two more Zircon pillar sites were found -- seemingly a triangle of these pillars had some sort of triumphal significance... they looked to be vastly varied in age, and while weathered or crumbled beyond comprehension it was speculated they were once decorated to celebrate some victorious deeds. One Pillar was found thoroughly buried by flattened ruins layers thick, but had both it's top and bottom zircon "Head" and "Foot" intact... The Attolians were Thrilled to take home THREE (3 units of carved Zircon blocks) and (6 units of MARBLE)
The victorians may have jumped Attolian claims, wittingly or unwittingly, but it had lead to a WINDFALL for the Agora Excavation team, and it was doubtful much more of such value was left to be found here, at least without sifting for the smallest nuggets of metals or artifacts.

The Sirens were awed by the great mosaic of the Nerid...

"The Nerids are the Queens of the Sirens, one of the several folk that were said to have been born of her -- There is likely a sunken altar at the bottom of this well... the idea that an actual Nerid would dwell here -- to contemplate such things is almost blasphemous. In the first ages of the Siren, it was the Nerids who Interceded at our probable extinction at the jaws and whim of the Shark-Knight Tritons... The Nerid it is said also gifted us with their lungs to complement our gills, as they had."

.....

"Still, with enough of us, we believe we can SING this hatch open, the mosaic suggests a tune in the whorls of the Nerid's waves, and failing that, perhaps we can crack the hinges with the right frequency and force the doors to fall into the void you wish to access?"

"It would take all of us, I fear -- but we are as curious to open that hatch to see as we would like to aid you in the recovery of your lost kin's remains"

__________________________________________________________________________________________

The casting of cannons was a massive undertaking if it was to be done properly -- the first prototypes could only fire a less than a handful of times before strains on the barrel rendered them useless... This project would either trade a great deal of time, or it would require much more manpower, cost, and hopefully cooperation.

If the Attolians were willing to scale down their designs to that of small mortar-artillery, they might achieve better results with present resources.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

The tea and spices did not take well to the underground plantation -- the presence of the plants seemed to improve the health of the grains (repelling insects and enriching the biome) but crop yield already appeared that it would be disappointing.

Not the same to be said about the bramble-gems -- who with the right combination of swampy conditions (extra dirt in their part of the sewer-stream) it took a great deal of labor to prevent (prune back) the initial plants from spreading and edging out the grain and barley entirely. With the help of the sirens, A balance was achieved where the destructive throrns of the bramble-plant (that arose before it could bear the gem-fruit) were bent and folded back into ovoid-shaped bushes, inside of which the first "karats" of faceted fruit could be seen. This seemed the ideal place to grow these things outside of the swamp! (High yield expected for bramble gems at end of season)

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Of the expedition to Meltwater reservoir, it was quickly demonstrated the the Gnolls did NOT appreciate the Attolians gaining purchase there. Long before the group had found the safest way to scale the shearcliffs, which was especially difficult for the sirens, the opposite side of the rope bridge to the gnoll side of the river had no fewer than FORTY posturing and howling gnolls -- which grew to 60 which shadowed Caelis' force travelling congruently on their own side of the waterside, as if to assert if that side was for their feet the gnolls did not brook such liberties on their side. Along the whole side of the reservoir were lush flowers, water plants, and at least 8 different species/colors of cat-tail plants... further away grew a kind of plains made of patchy, hairy yellow grasses that seemed very alien to the Attolians. Strangely round rocks seemed to collect here and there on in the grassland sun, until it was revealed that these were some form of odd "puffball fungus" -- and when the halbardiers in their armor tread near them they readily tore open and sent streams of pinkish spore-clouds onto the wind. On the far side of the Meltwater was a gigantic bubbling disturbance that must have come from deep within the shearcliff -- a massive underground spring seemed to feed this huge lake so that it too could supply the river. Another even higher tier of shearcliff lay at the far side of the lake -- and it's cliffs were a steep slope, almost a perfect 100 degrees from which it could be seen water had carved it's way down the cliffs. While only a trickle in the crevices now, it was surely thought that during the spring these ridges were rushing cascades of meltwater that gave the area it's name. the topography tapered into a cone-shape that broke the cloud-cover, which was particularly low in this area -- leaving the group to speculate how high the meltwater peak might actually be -- but more astounding was what was to be seen beyond shearcliffs, and the boundaries of what had thus far been mapped...

...A precipitous drop on each side of the cone gave way to a trackless savanna, with patches of desert within. They saw from here farther than the whole of what was seen before -- a whole region laying beyond the confines explored so far... a muddy "Wadi" that seemingly flowed from the opposide side of the peak gleamed a chain of watery basins -- like islands of water in the dry grasslands stretching as far as the team could see.

Returning from the visa, the Sirens explored the Meltwater, coming back with tell of large fresh-water nautillus that eluded even the fastest siren getting close, and the center of the lake held what seemed to be a forest of what the sirens described as "Floating morningstars" moored by rusty chains to the lake-bed. Some of these great metal orbs hummed ominously, so the sirens avoided them. They also remarked that the top of a massive tower, likely flung from the city below in the cataclysm, had come to rest leaning against the Northeast (gnoll's side) of the reservoir. When the sirens returned, Caelis' team had noted that the sirens swimming in the "gnoll half" of the lake rose less than positive sentiments... the gnolls advanced quickly on the smaller attolian group, and the sirens took their place in fear behind the handful of halbardiers as the growing host of gnolls crossed the boundary to seek aggressive parley with their group...

The Falconer had been watching the gnolls move for some time, and had his bird circle above their formations to assure both sides that the Attolians knew where the gnolls would move, so that sneaking up was impossible. Still, the gnolls forced contact, going as far as to come well into the far side of the riverland to catch the Attolians before they could tactically withdraw... two of the gnolls spoke very passable but older and desert-dialected common, but their communication was clear...

"The river is boundary between our realms, man-fools -- we to think that north of basin where there is no river there is no boundary? If Atol-men think so, then we go home right now and tell Bitch-Queen we are free to invade your lands if we wish to cross the lake or walk around it on the north side. Is this what you have come to show us? Because that is what we thinks we tell the tribe...."

The Falconer had likely choose his next words carefully, as half the assembled gnolls didn't even seem content to let the Attolians leave unhindered...

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

The efforts at the learner's square were well placed and the effort well spent -- especially for the Tyren. For the Tyren remaining on the move or travelling in warmer climes during winter months was normally their strategy, the Tyren likely dodged a great period of growing pains when they learned what gems of wisdom the Attolians were willing to give away for free SpiralErrant . From frost on crops to simple abatements for winter illness and most importantly insulation, the Tyren gained much from these lessons, and to a lesser extent, the colony. (RELATIONS BETWEEN ATTOLIANS AND TYREN IMPROVE CONSIDERABLY) -- many uncertainties for the springborn and Tyren were addressed, and they feared the winter (or at least what might pass for productive activity during the winter) much less after hearing the attolian initiative.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Regarding the Kobolds -- they knew they were a long way from an Attolian meeting of the minds. Concepts such as "Strong Says" and "if you no want whip, give whip to kobold" made for frustrating study of the kobold language. It was so much easier to raise a fist to motivate them, and certainly more what they were accustomed to. Something wasn't clicking... if the kobolds were to live a different way, how could they be shown?

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon :

The Attolians were able to garner quite a deal for hiring the Aymarans "on a mission to eat" -- 1 wealth got them the seemingly unwavering devotion of no fewer than TWENTY (20) Cunnings and TWO of the scarred.

The Aymarans of the learning square tried to communicate as best they could in their assent.

"FROSTING!" one of the cunnings yelled, which, while not understood, was extolled and re-extolled in the barking of the other cunnings... until they looked to each other confused.

"FORWARD!" muttered one of the scarred... "You not brutes! Fight and eat like with manthings before!"

and forward march they did, out of their sewer lair and to the staging ground where forces gathered to fight the cave fishers....

(There were not many sounds in common that an aymaran could make, it seemed... but one of the scarred seemed to have a natural aptitude for it)

(COST ONE WEALTH!)

"FRAAAAAHHHH-STING!" again the cry went up. The Scarred quickly brought the revelie low by swatting numerous "cunning" with their massive tails.

"NO SUCH WORD AS FRAHSTING! FORWARD SOON!"

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

The Engineer was at a loss. He did not have the expertise to make the cannons beyond the prototypes. It would take a lot more experimentation to figure out how to make effective cannons. While, he thought that a scaled down project such as small mortars would be possible... the purpose was for an accurate direct fire weapon. Gods knew how accurate the mortar would be, and the tiny balls would need to directly hit a target to do anything. They were not bomb making experts, so the effectiveness would be limited. Maybe if the target was the broadside of a barn, then a mortar would be worth it. Regardless, they needed more experts and help. Perhaps a cannon made from Bull Iron would be more able to stand up to the forces of the explosion? The Elves could certainly carry out the measurements to the most minute details. But most importantly, they needed experienced crafters, the Dwarves. The so called Firebeards seem to have holed up somewhere along the Cliffs, but the entrance was generally unknown. Except, there were huge stacks of stone near the area as of late. So, people knew generally where the Firebeards lived. Thus, the Engineer decided that he would send word out for aid.

---

The Falconer replied "The river is indeed the boundary, but we have never been up here before. We wanted to explore the area and learn where the water flows from. Although, I am sure that you were merely exploring the Platz as well when we caught some of your kind sneaking around in the sewers and stealing the heads of our kills. Are we free to explore your settlement like that as well?" the Falconer asked rhetorically. "Regardless, there is no point in fighting between us. We are both fighting against the Mud Elves to the south and your friends who explored our sewers can tell you about how we slaughtered scores of them. They must be very strong, by the way, being able to carry so many heads like that." The Falconer then briefly paused and continued.

"You can also ask your tribe about the present we dropped off down stream. We left one of your regiments a nice little gift. You won't have to worry about 12 Mud Elf Fighters and the banner that the regiment leader gave us was nice. Oh, and two of the witches of the Horned One are no longer a concern either. But, you don't have to take my word for it. What you should go tell your tribe is that they should try to do a bit of spying on the Mud Elves. They're getting ready for a new offensive and are on the march. We both don't have time to be talking here when we should both be heading south soon to fight the real enemy, or at least the Attolians will be fighting with your brothers in the South."

"We Attolians have only saved Gnoll lives. However, depending on what you do here. You might have to also go tell your tribe why that has changed. Now, I think it would be in both of our interests if we go back to our sides and stay there until the Battle against the Mud Elves."

Summary:

The Falconer attempts to talk down the Gnolls and reminding them of the greater, common enemy.

Cannon Project seeks help from the Firebeard Dwarves and the Blacksmith's Guild

Prince Vaethorion General Deth Glitch

 

[Beckoncall]

Prince Vaethorion :

Workers spread too thin! (slight reduction in morale)

"The prince barely leaves us time for meditation, and between teaching these apes to fight, moving endless tracks of materials, gathering livestock, loading and crewing a trade ship, and listless other projects... our work products have begun to suffer."

Using the prototype Ballista/Crossbow, a weapon nearing the vision of the prince begins to take shape ( General Deth Glitch / general ostruppen ) The weapon can and likely will be improved with dwarven assistance. At present it is easily moved, but painfully slow to aim, and has only two bolts tipped with unstable mana bolts.

Many metal cable and iron weighted nets are constructed, but lay in the staging area. If Aymarans could be trusted not to entangle themselves, they would be perfect... but as it stands two to four men would be required to cast a net effectively, with single net casters being of questionable effect without at least some training and practice.

Spacekitty Prince Vaethorion Heyitsjiwon :

The Aymarans have been motivated to show up in force! Nearly all the scarred rise to the call, as well as all the cunnings and brutes. God rot was an especially strong motivator... and the Attolians framing the venture as a Eating expedition.

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon :

The Key'ed One:

Nicholas Climbed the stair -- automatons lay across and splayed about on the broad steps, but the automatons, split from twenty to just five, expertly picked their way over their fallen brethren... caked in dust, Nicolas could see that these fallen clockworks were in better shape than any even outside -- and cosmetically in better shape than many walking around. Here and there he could see where pieces had only recently been removed -- which was a puzzling question for him... One that was not answered before all he could think of was the endless rise of the stairs, but not a mystery to last much longer than that -- for at the top of the stairs waited Helysoune, Adventurer of the colony, in a rather convincing getup of an automaton -- were it not for her piercing blue eyes peering through a slat beneath the pinholes, it might have taken longer to recognize her. Her own armor was camoflaged with multiple bits of salvaged automaton, so that little of herself was visible through the disguise. Helysoune was smiling when she saw Nicholas, though he could only tell because her eyes were smiling. She dismissed the automatons from Nicholas, who descended the stairs again without remark, including his familiar automaton that he himself had brought back into repair.

She turned around at the top of the stairs and pushed slowly, with all her might, to part the great metal double-doors into the chamber at the top of the spire. The doors hissed with ancient assisstance mechanisms, but it was still all Helysoune could do to breach the portal. When she turned around, Nicholas could see the crudely mocked up imitation of a Key sticking out of her back...

"... You are the Key'ed one? That's impossible!"

"Your damn right it is, They call me Intact 1. If I don't have this chunk of rust sticking twixt my shoulderblades... it would only be a matter of time before one of these sad husks jammed some metal into my spinal column and wondered sheepishly why it wasn't speeding me up when they turned it. The Key'ed one has all the keys. 'cept mine, which is fake -- and a point of contention for him. I have these sods practically eating out of my hand, I would have thought the Attolians put more trust in their agents... certainly didn't expect to see you Nicholas, but it's nice to see a friendly face. Or any actual face for that matter... c'mon... can't keep the ol' Key'ed one waiting, can we?"

With that the doors began to swing open on their own... the light of the sky flooded into the chamber from half of the massive panes of crystal that served as windows from the spire... various holes of crystalline glass also dotted the floor, and from through them Nicholas could see tiny movements in Harun'taras, a better view of the top of shearcliffs than he'd thought could be made at this distance, and the other half of the panes were obscured by clouds. They were high indeed. Nicholas' heart still pumped maddeningly from keeping up with the stair climb, but his lust for adventure and answers exceeded his body's plights for rest. Piles of junk in various states of oxidization lay strewn about the floor high enough to obscure vision of what lie beyond them, doubtlessly more piles of deliapidated junk. In the center of this great oval chamber atop the spire was a hovering translucent sphere, across the surface of which small arcs of energy and prismatic waves travelled.

Inside the sphere was what nicholas could only guess were the shattered remains of at least half a dozen tears of divinity... now grey and lifeless, sitting below the central orb was a kind of "ammo rack" that might have at one point contained dozens of such tears. That is when he heard one of the piles of rubbish move...

"Intact 1 -- bring me the Artist." it had a voice that sounded like silverware being thrown through a mangling machine. the grinding of metal and the sound of sparks accompanied it as it lurched, then slouched across the floor and into full view beyond an obscuring trash-heap.

It was nothing more than a twisted mass of over 60 shattered constructs, the center forward part of the "blob" extended a few feet from the mass, where a scratched and dirty oval mirror seemed to pass for this being's face. Then of course were the KEYS... the entire back of the creature was swarming with KEYS - perhaps one for every automaton that came from the spire... it's body of automatons writhed in expressionless and voiceless seeming agony as it crushed it's own legion of arms and legs just to clumsily move the mass about... The keys spun in an almost disturbing cadence and pattern... severed arms jury-rigged, ad hoc'ed, and crudely welded endlessly grasped at and turned the keys every time one of them began to slow. light shined from within the mass, that seemed to wax and wane with the turning of the keys...

a head and hands and other bits of automaton fell from the mirrored protrusion as it turned to speak to Nicholas while Helysoune stood behind him... the weak, and semi-crushed arms and legs at the front of the mass jerkily grabbed the pieces and pulled them back into "the Key'ed one" as it drooled oil and bits of itself as it spoke. A different voice, one from inside the glowing part of the mass, seemed to bellow like a hot wind... the mass shifted to bring more of it's bulk to face Nicholas.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRTIIIIISTT." it spoke like a cavern spoke.

"YOU ARE SURVIVOR. UNEXPECTED. THOUGHT IMPOSSIBLE. REPAIR OF INTACT 1 and REFURB 1 NOTED AS UNDENIABLE PROOF. DESTRUCTION RUNNING AT LESS THAN 1 PERCENT EFFICIENCY. CANNIBALIZATION NECESSARY TO MAINTAIN VIGIL. AMMUNITION DEPLETED. KEY OF INTACT 1 REQUIRED TO MOVE TOWARDS OPTIMAL FUNCTION. INTACT 1 CITES ARTIST OVERRIDE. LIFT OVERRIDE. THEN ARTIST CAN SPEAK OF PLAN TO RESTORE CAPACITY TO INSTALLATION AND TO CONTINUE DEFENSE OF THE CITY."

...Helysoune kicked Nicholas in the Ankle to get his attention, and whispered to him while clanking her armor as to disguise her communication.

"If that THING gets a hold of the suppossed 'key' on my back two things are going to happen... it's going to realize I tricked it, and it's going to scramble the inside of my torso trying to wind me up before ripping me apart -- in an order yet to be determined... choose your words carefully, or we can run now -- I've got some of the best bits already -- plenty for my end of my contract...."

 

[SpiralErrant]

Things had taken a depressing twist after the fireside night in Hrun'Taras. What was supposed to be a gentle way of welcoming the new arrivals into the community had turned into a dark night of eye opening. But the wheel of progress never stopped turning around these parts. Everyone was going on the offensive these days trying to clear out the local troubles. Things like that used to mean wolves or predators threatening the sheep and goats to the tyren on the road. Orm never would have thought they'd be dealing with the undead and swarms of monsters from the sea. Well they were a part of the council now and that meant doing their part.

There were things to worry about with all of it though! The tyren could help with herding the skeletons if that was what they wanted but Orm wasn't about to send a group of herdmen into danger. He wasn't even about to send Shul in there alone and he was the expert in talking to spirits. He tried passing onto these silver humans that the dead here just needed what they were searching for to move on. That was what they found on the market day anyway and everyone made a good profit from it. If they could put on a good show then maybe their performer would get some roses or pay, whatever human bards took as payment. But they wouldn't be turned away, so Shul would be going along behind a wall of blades and if everything went horribly wrong then Bruul would finally get to let out the punches he'd been hording.

It was in the spirit of maybe getting the chance to finally stretch his magical legs that Bruul went on to flag down his fellow members of the mages guild. "So I got this thing, y'know, where I can write down uuuh magic... right." He didn't care to talk about his tracing talents that often but it wasn't something he could do in secrecy and it was always better to ask permission first. "An' I was thinkin' yeah that since we're goin' along on this together then I could do some writin' from you. Just think it! You need a spell done for this, now you could have two! Two of us throwing our weight behind it... if we need to."

As for the dwarves and their little war. Well tyren weren't ones for going underground or fighting in tight quarters. But they could offer their healers for after the fighting was done. More than anything they pressed the dwarf chieftain to see Anais. She'd once been under the sea herself and under the sway of the aboleth that lived down there. If everything that was down there was under its control like she said then fighting these cave fishers might wake something bigger than they could deal with.

Troop support:
Enemy Standoo
Undead theatre:
10 mercenaries
3 tyren warriors
2 shaman shul and Bruul
(Bruul has approached the other members of the mage guild for permission to use his tracing magic in preperation for the undead expedition)

Fisher run:
1 skilled tyren healer
5 springborn healers
(The healers are staying out of the fighting and staying far back in the safer areas of the dwarf hold.
General Deth Glitch Tyren seriously suggest speaking to Anais the aboleth before starting for what she might know of the deep ones and cave fishers)

For themselves the folk of Hrun'Taras kept to their preparations for the cull. The tyren representative would go on to pass everything that Anais had shared of it to the other members of the council, right down to its origin as a god weapon. Let the older races make sense of all that nonsense.

The ancient wood would serve one final purpose after its destruction. Orm had promised the springborn he'd be respectful of the remains of their home and the mine itself had offered it some new chance at life. If the magic that still stirred within it could be trusted and the whispered breaths of the ent gave them plenty of ideas. Carving it up for shields and spears didn't sound like the best of ideas at all but if the treesingers could work their art and the craftbulls did the same then they had a chance to restore the ancient wood to an echo of its former self and like the tyrenborn before it, for a new hybrid kind of life.

Songs were sung and the golden lumber was bent like silk around the trees that made up the stockade and mixed with the cold frame of bull iron. No fire, no nails, just the gentle song and the plea to take root in its new host. And a simple purpose... defend... protect. If they could restore it to something close to life then Orm would consider that a win, but he would yield to the word of the elves here, this was their world of knowledge not his.

Though back to the tyrenborn, they were being sent out into the world on their first mission. The spymaster had sent back some good word on their progress. They still had some way to go before they were true warriors of the shadows but they'd taken to rangercraft like a duck to water. That was what Orm sent them out on now. Out into the swamp where their feet would prove lighter than any tyren hoof. The only-day-bug had thick armour on its hide and maybe fire in its blood. If bugs were needed to get an edge over the cull then they'd need to start tracking these ones.

[10 springborn, 5 skilled tyren, 1 shaman Ummush. Work with the unit of ancient wood and treesinging arcana and bull iron from the smiths to improve the glade stockade as a defensive structure. The treesingers are the unofficial leads in this project. Nothing disrespectful is to be done to the ancient wood remains.

5 tyrenborn sent to scout out and only day swamp and track the onlydaybugs to gather information and learn more about their habits. This is not a true hunt.

Tyren share all lore they've learned about the cull with other council factions.]

 

[Zaltusinel]

Maybe a Concert is a Good idea!​

"Urun, I hope you're ready to have some fun! We're going on an adventure!" Urun eyebrowed her, his hands ruffled through his hair. Ryleon pinched his cheeks. "So you heard about the undead didn't you?"

"How do we know this?"

"She," Ryleon pointed, "went not too far from here. I have a plan. What if we play a melody that will encourage them to join us!" Urun shook his head like ping pong balls in play. His eyes refocused on her as she playfully mingled with his hair. The soft breeze of night twinkled off of her lips with the occasional gleam of starlight off of her skin. She twirled the edges of her dress, letting the mirror's luminosity take hold on the outer layer. Her hair sharpened in texture, letting the ends form petite spikes that run as river rapids. Her Systiar melded with her skin, responding elegantly to her soft strums. She adjusted the crystal lights at the top of the Systiar to maximum luminosity. As she strummed, her notes flew out and a different pitch returned. She began to improvise a little, listening as the song transposed returned to her, then it went more wild and started to form the beat of its own.

"What is that?"

"Its the Systiar, it's responding to my notes. It seems stronger now than earlier when I fiddled with it." Ryleon lifted up one of her feet to her knee.

Urun propped up onto his feet, "Well, who is going with you on this adventure?" Urun's voice sounded forced, in a "I don't want to go fashion". His eyes told the truth. His hands meet at the back of his head as he smiled.

"Oh, I think you know who." She began point to various people who she spoke with earlier. "You're the last one I asked. I know you want to go. So come on!" Ryleon turned around, skipping over the quarter, turning only to speak again, "And Lydia you're in charge until Kuva gets back. Once he does, tell him I bringing the grooves to the bones!" Urun softly followed behind her, as the others did as well.

Notice:
Ryleon takes a grand opportunity to perform for the dead. She tags along Urun and four survivors to assist in making the concert more exciting and convincing to the dead. The goal is either to please the dead or convert them to Nylorian cause. If everything goes haywire, the Nylor will slip into the shadows by shadow meld since this takes place at night. Ryleon has dress elegantly and will almost start singing on arrival to the theater.

Beckoncall

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

Beckoncall

The Highborn are not attacking anything resembling a tree height building with claws and tenales until a clever strategy is developed.