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

[Beckoncall]

More to Come:

1) Victorian Orders,

2) Attolian Orders,

3) Gearing up of the fight against Fisher-Mother!

4) and all other orders that ain't been done yet!

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

More Responses:

Lothar was filled with concern as him and the five elven swordsmen explored more and more of the fragile, derelict ship. It seemed like it would break into charcoal at any moment, and his armor was not helping. Thus, Lothar made his decision "I think it be best that we leave everything be and return to the ship... or at least I will. I don't want my armor to be the cause for the ship to suddenly snap." He then eyed the wand and said "It be best that we do not disturb the spell while we remain on this abandoned ship. However, it will be your call if you lads want to continue searching." Lothar then began to gingerly walk back to the deck of the fluyt so that he could return to the ship. The High Born were much lighter on their feet than he was, so if there was going to be anything done, then it would be up to the High Born as Lothar was rather certain that he could be of no help and only cause a lot more harm. If they could keep the ship floating, then maybe the Shipwright could patch up the leak and they could explore the fluyt properly. However, it was currently too dangerous to entertain such a thought.

---

The Attolians join the Science Guild. They contribute their current equipment and makeshift labs, and the dedication of their Chemist. The Attolians also bring the Chitin Structural Allergy Test/Project over to the Science Guild.

 

[Beckoncall]

The Music Play on. Even Through Pain (last post of the Nylor -- all credit to Zalt for this writing... maintained in thread to preserve continuity of the story)

​

As much as it pains Ryleon, her instinct and her feelings, ones that gave her the precedent to what her people were like, told her what to do. The Attolians triggered the most famous aspect of the Nylor, they push people away from them. They rather take the hard, lonely road before ever coming to talk. It wasn't an insult to anything, it was how they were. Lord Caelis's mistake lit up like the Forth of July. Every bag of emeralds, of wealth, and the two horns were placed in front of them. The Nylor grabbed their things. Ryleon, her emotions left her and her core was revealed, the inner kindness and joy radiated from her. She was so old..., yet her heart was more youthful than a child's. Her eyes dimmed, showing the love in her eyes. Her body ached, tears sundered from her eyes. Nothing harbored her face but pain. The others couldn't imagine the feeling. She looked at the colonists, at the Platz that she could vision in her eyes and mind. But the pain could not hinder what she must do. Every door of the Maximae laid open. Through her arcane prowess and assistance from the Nightbringers, the entire Theater District fell into darkness. And as that darkness charged in, moving as phantasmal tide, orbs of teal light echo and leave trails around them. A phantasmal rain pursued, pouring on them all. Music could be heard, made by pain alone. So faint, yet easy to hear. So energetic yet draining of energy, of everything wonderful. She stood, barely holding together as she spoke. All Nylor exited the theater and kneeled as she spoke.

"I understand your concerns, and make this as you will, here is the contents that can be moved of the theater. Enjoy the gifts of the dead, I see how we've made a mess. And so to prevent such things from coming again, this is goodbye. Do not ever think we did this for ourselves, we've damned ourselves for others. This continent is together by our sacrifices, by our pain alone. We've shed our blood, our comforts, our everythings because below the ranting, the emotions, our own souls, we've done everything to save your soul. And we'll keep trying, because in our hearts, we must be free to save you. This world is dying, broken. We're trying to save it, even if it is a lost cause. Burning in hell for nothing more than being alive, being a Nylor. We've lost everything, but every step we take takes us higher because we love to be scorched. In the shadows we like, but we are like the stars, we still shine. We come, we give gifts and we leave. So we have come, and now we should give something. As custom."

Small projections of blades cut each hand of the Nylor, letting blood spill on the tile. Moving the hands to form a circle of blood, the light and darkness lift it. The colonists watch as the blood disperses as if nothing ever existed. Then came down orbs of light, ones that were solid. They encircled one another until one remained, absorbing the others. The bleeding ceased, and the wounds dispersed as nothing. Ryleon guided the orb, meandering slowly and ornately, letting the orb land softly on the tile nearest to the colonists. Her hair withered, no color. It seemed as if she was bald. Her face suffered from wrinkles, her lips lost their beautiful reflection. All of her beauty wilted.

"I know you are confused, without our memories. We have been lost and I guess in ways gone. But I do remember what we were, and before I dare let you have the wrong way, I'd do this again and again. We protect ourselves because we want to save you. Our souls, once we finish, will likely fade into nothing like our blood just did. Does this effect us, no. In the end, I think we will sacrifice ourselves so your lives may persist and live on. We may never be remembered, but that's okay, you may damn us. That is okay. I just want you to know that we love you. As we are nature's hope, what she truly is. She is broken and this is why we detest the Sylvan so. We want to make her whole again, like she was meant to be! The Sylvan do not know better. Maybe we've become hypocritical in their regard, maybe we deserve to fail and let someone else finish what must be done. That's okay. Our memories tell us that we already have, that's okay. At least we tried. I know that we didn't tell you this, but how were we suppose to know?! I'm sorry to waste your time, but we won't ever again. As I said colonists, this is goodbye. If you truly want us again, you must seek us out. We will never come back. This may be the end of our correspondence. I know your thrilled to be rid of us. We're weird, ignorant, useless, and out of control. But at least we can give you this." She pointed to the orb. "This will grant access to magic itself, with it, It may be tapped for our mana... Thus, you will need us no longer. We shall take our leave."

She walked away, the others rose. And as they exited, the lights and darkness followed, so that no one could follow as they sprinted away. Only signs of their presence throughout the colony were a trail of Ryleon's tears.

Beckoncall Heyitsjiwon Prince Vaethorion SpiralErrant Enemy Standoo Spacekitty

​

Summary:
Out of realizations, the Nylor leave everything they can in front of the colonists. They sacrifice some of themselves to grant the colonists a gift. They plea not to be remembered as selfish.

Second, they travel through the Agoran district and out to the Spire. With a cloud of darkness and light to guise where they will go. The Nylor will never return unless they are asked to.

OOC: If you look in post #606, you will see that the Nylor want to tarnish the Sylvan's reputation. So, how do you start a change of heart? Also, I will also cite where she gets this feeling from. Ryleon, like the others, do not have the full picture. Thus, by the fragments, they feel one side of their beliefs while not another.​

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

Heyitsjiwon Beckoncall

The water lapped up against the vessel in a rhythmic deceivingly calming sound. The smell of musk, charred corpses, and decay was offensive to the Highborn senses. The Five Armored Swordmaster Highborn and Lothar tread gingerly, however, once their acute senses sensed danger, they knew most should retreat. Lothar clearly thought the same thing, as he was heading back to the ship.

The two most heroic and agile of the Highborn Swordmasters began stripping off his armor and handed it to others. One, the bravest, an most agile said to his comrades firmly but not too loud as for fear of disturbing the dead, "Auta Sana sina ar' rima!" ("take this and Go") ***"Take my armor, and blade and Great sword, the three of you go back to the Ship with Lothar and have them send a rope down to us form the Yard mast through the large hole mid-ship. We will tie it to us!"

The Highborn Swordmasters had gotten down to their Even silken undergarments and both kept one of their two Elven Fighting blades which he quickly tied the scabbard to his thigh.

The Plan was that one Highborn Swordmaster would search the Captains quarters for valuables and/or items of interest and the other the intact Hold both searching for a tear of divinity (as Colonist were given tears before the voyage) or something else of value. When the rope was in position, the one waiting by the rope would tie it around his waist, the other would in a single motion grab the wand from dead magic user while holding it in the same position to maintain the field and with the other hand the entire charred body with the robe in one fell motion. The Highborn would then back up to maintain the field to the awaiting highborn with robe on his waist, who would then grab his companion securely around the waist and and call over as a signal to be pulled up and out, (or for the possibility that the sinking ship would go down fast and the two hopefully would be pulled out of the gaping hole mid-ship). The Rope itself would be attached to the Highborn Yard Mast to a pulley used for sails and freight as this would give additional height and leverage, so as for the rope not to get tangled. Other Highborn would be on standby with ropes and lifesavers prepared for a rescue situation.


*** if it takes too long to take off armor, then they will take only enough off to allow the possibility of swimming and not sinking

 

[Beckoncall]

SpiralErrant :

The botanical garden, basically a series of planters along inside and outside walkways on the second floor of the building -- turned out better with the springborn tree-singers than anyone could have hoped. A sample of each distinct plant was allowed to grow in various combinations with others, from the smallest to most impressive mushrooms, to collections of water plants, to exotic melons, dark leaf, and many beautiful indigenous plants and flowers. While already dressing up the slowly forming second level of the capitol building nicely -- they would be even more impressive each passing spring... they could tell already. Various healing plants were also nestled around the baths inside the capital building, allowing medicinal poultices to become a regular part of government officials routine when not directly holding court (Health of elders and leaders in colony improves!)

Further beautification of the blooming lamb with the Fennec reaches a whole new level... with Tyren helping to "tip" trees to grab harder to reach stores of buried amber (that trolls would just crack or knock the trees over deforesting the area to get the nuggets) The Tyren find a couple of interesting specimens -- namely a giant (dog-sized) ant encased in a massive blob of amber -- truly a strange and unnatural find compared to what is typical, as well as an automaton hand PERFECTLY preserved in the amber... which looks quite different in many ways to the condition they are seen in now...

KamiKahzy :

The Ratkin, knowing the water table like an old coat, quickly found wells for the Tyren all over Harun'Taras -- an underground cistern of large size with hyper-aerated water was a particularly nice find -- for the water tasted cleaner and fresher than even the first spring meltwaters when they arrived.
Commodity: Effervescent Water located! The actual cistern is outside the Great Pallisade of Harun'Taras -- but it is easily tapped from inside the core defenses to serve as a well, and particular luxury.

Besides this, numerous water sources of various quality were found that would ensure proper sanitation and cleanliness in Harun'Taras. This was never an issue for the Tyren themselves, no strangers to living and dealing with the dirtier aspects of outdoor life -- but this was a problem nipped in the bud with the Hill folk, some of which were already encountering minor intestinal distresses. It was coming to them slowly that they had the leisure to bathe at the end of a hard day... and were less festideous in where they buried their leavings...

Heyitsjiwon :

As for sanitation in the platz and around it -- there were more than enough gratings and crude access to the sewers to assure perfect sanitation. The sewer as it stood was built to handle the daily effluence of untold thousands, if not millions of folk -- there was simply nothing the colony could do at it's current size to pollute it... finer toilets and public outhouses were placed in popular paths of travel, which increased quality of life, but for the most part sanitation is covered in the platz... wherever the sewer goes (likely the sea) is more than able to handle a population many times the colony's size for the foreseeable future.

SpiralErrant KamiKahzy :

The struggle to create a new cheese was a true challenge -- the pumice aging chamber created a variety of dessicated goat-milk cheese that was literally harder than rock, but lighter. When pounded like bull iron it made "Stock rocks" that gave complex flavors to soups and broths -- as long as the impossibly hard curd was strained out of a dish before serving lest it become a choking hazard. "Bull-Iron Crumble" became a favorite among ratkin, but it would have to be marketed more broadly to gain greater appeal.

The Ratkin making a cheese chamber in Harun'Taras came up with much better results. EXOTIC Cheese can be added as a luxury good, these cheeses were also initially WAAY too hard to enjoy until they too were pounded like bull Iron and enriched with several curdings of sheep's milk. What came out at the end result was a variety of peppered, fruited, and bread-seeded Triple Creme style cheese products... which put the nutritious but unmistakably plain by comparison Tyren cheesecraft to a shame. Many Tyren rejected the new cheeses at first -- but this was soon to be proved "sour-grapes" -- the new cheeses were savored even by the delicate pallettes of the highborn, who swooned and blithered on about complexities and dimensions of texture the other races just could not understand. The prince himself was inclined to partake of and stock his own supply of them, and many people in the market put forth pay to try the new cheese.

CURRENT MARKET WEALTH = 9

The economy was healthy -- with more than enough work to do there was plenty of coin that went into the hands of people and changed hands quickly. Wealth that had been spent on a variety of projects by the factions was returning to the source of the river -- the market. Leveraging it a bit in the future could be a healthy move, but it was quite robust despite not having a legitimate bank building (though legitimate banking policy did help)

 

[Beckoncall]

Enemy Standoo :
Everyone

LOOT OF THE THEATER:

The large detail sent to the theater district to catalog turned out to be labor well spent -- in addition to the Harpselith (great piano) and the two great golden horns of the Orchestrae Maximae, the following other loot was found catalogued:

1) The harpselith
2) and great golden horns themselves;
3) 2 trays of finely cut emeralds (from the box office of the Orchestrae)
4) 5 wealth worth of discarded valuables and finery from the longdead purged by the lighthouse and about the district
5) A hidden cache of untranslated but intact stageplays and set-peices, which while rather fantastical might give a great many clues about life in the era of the mage-royals.
6) A dozen giant marionettes, 8 of which seemed to be stripped or husked by the ravages of time (but were still impressive artifacts) the other four seemingly were heroes or mage lords themselves in various states of repair. The puppets take 2 to 5 people to operate them, but are quite impressive in their range of motion.
7) Both Ampitheaters contain an additional 2 wealth each (4 total) in discarded jewels and finery
8) A ruined building containing mosaics and bas-relief of a variety of dances... which could be both valuable and enlightening.
9) A "Grand Horn" -- spiraling like a snake to being 6 feet high and if it was measured straight would be over 30 feet long -- which if blown is likely to send a note that would alert the whole colony, or if focused on an enemy could make an interesting sonic werapon. The horn has a variety of joints and keys which do not seem to illicit any control on the device at this time (they are perhaps jammed or broken) -- and the mouth of the horn could easily stand four men in it, and is shaped like a Pitcher-plant.
10) 3 more units of ancient instruments
11) a "sunstone" the size of a medium shield -- these stones are called such because they can find the sun (and therefore determine cardinal directions) in even the densest fog, and would make a spectacular navigation device... though it's apparent use in the district was as a lighting prop to cast spectrums and spotlights.
12) a unit of pitted and all but useless (except aesthetically) ceremonial armor and weapons backdating to the age of the mage-lords. Some of these weapons are very strange and suggest wholly different martial disciplines to use them... Polearms with bow-shaped blades running from top to bottom, strange hatchets with knuckle-holds in the blade for one or two-handed fighting in very close combat, and what first looked like some kind of rope but is actually a slack and broken SWORD that could be cast out like a whip that would form it's blades at areas and lengths determined by a trained wielder. Fascinating objects, perhaps finer if their secrets could be unravelled.

That is so far a thorough search of the Theater district. Other things may present themselves, but this is all the "low hanging fruit"

Heyitsjiwon :

The attolians recover the bodies of their 3 halbardiers in one of the ampitheaters... and they are given honored burials.

While the Victorians find several things on this list, this list is a comprehensive list of the findings of all factions, some of which have been searching the district for some time. It is not implied that all of this loot belongs to the Victorians.

 

[Beckoncall]

Enemy Standoo :

Standing orders....

Onri Ghol is asked if he knows of a way to track the Nylor's magical trail.
(1 Canonate - minor cleric/mage)

If there was a way to track the Nylor, the Victorians did not know what it was -- perhaps the sylvan or highborn, being elves might have some connection or technique to do with kinship or racial affinity... What he DID track was a veritable LEY-LINE of power from the blood spilled in the theater district to the fountain of blood. Onri had heard it grew more powerful when so many were killed in the fields east of the platz fighting the mud elves (mostly mud-elves themselves) -- but it was distressing to learn that this blood sacrifice, despite it's impressive job of actually CREATING a MANA SOURCE... it could only have bolstered the demon of the fountain... and Onri was loathe to tell his older contemporary of the bad news...

_________________

As far as studying the shield, it resembled something akin to what certain celestials or extra-planar creatures crossed the breach to the prime material plane through -- except in this instance it is not a flash of dimensional barrier that moves an entity between planes -- this is much stronger magic, dimensionally shielding whatever is inside the tree from whatever hostilities lay behind it. It is unclear if walking into the sphere would merely pull you inside of it, or transport you to a random (or fixed) place on this or some other plane. More mages might be able to devine the nature of the portal if they could work in tandem to study it... for now the team was content to call it a shield.

_________________________________________________________________-

OOC: Please make record of the profit you made selling Zircon, and shortly I will ask for everyone in one swoop (likely in OOC to post labor for all extant guilds... although it would seem the Victorians would be seizing control of the archaeology guild with that level of support!

 

[Beckoncall]

Spacekitty :

ALERT! DECISION POINT!

Since the Fennec broke the limestone seal on the underground ruins, dog-sized red ants have started attempting to surface in those areas by digging their way out through channels they previously could not penetrate (the stone has been filled in with dirt however, and they are trying to get topside where the fennec make their homes.

The main pit is easily deterred from use by the ants with the reapplication of fire -- but the second dig site is showing more spirited (though tentative) exploration by the ants.

The fennec will have to address the ant problem before the ant problem addresses them!!!

 

[Beckoncall]

Coming up;

HATZBURK EXPLORATION BELOW THE DONKEY RAT INN

AND

THE PREPARATIONS FOR FISHER MOTHER

AND

THE OPENING OF THE VAULT OF THE NERID!!!

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon Prince Vaethorion :

Sir Lothar was back aboard the ship, and the two highborn nodded to one another. Secured to their own ropes... one sought to vault over the hole and get to the captains quarters as the other secured the wand and robe.

Pad...Pad...Pad... LEAP!

The acrobatic swordmaster flipped in the air and watched the yawning hole and his sword brother beneath him -- and how the opposite edge was so very, very far...

CREAK. Stuck the landing. barely. The highborn could tell even his simple weight disturbed things in the wreck, so untangled his lifeline and prepared to book for the captains quarters, but not before standing by to help lower his friend by their own rope onto the large crate in the hold, where in one motion before even landing the highborn too possession of the robe and grabbed the wand to hold it steady...

The wand's beam stuttered a bit, but maintained it's spell... in the moment the spell guttered then fizzled back, the entire ship GULPED water, and both highborn were instantly given a GRAVE chill.

"Atvoi!" (a very colloquial plea to hurry) came down from the hold.

The highborn above it seemed expelled and refilled his entire breath with each step as he vaulted to the officers quarters beneath by the stern... It was strange how light everything felt when running without his armor, for a change. One of the rooms to his right finally gave way to rot and the endless buffeting of the waves and fell away from the structure... presumably to land in the hold...

The highborn below SAW this, and cursed at the challenge that laid before him... the hold had a great wave in it now, heading straight for him. if he could not hold the wand in place, the ship would sink.

BOOM! the highborn above crashed into the captain's quarters -- great pictures of some orcish lady swashbuckler adorned opposite walls while maps with furious scribbling scattered the table... the entire room was awash in a red glow... SEEK THE SOURCE... was all the elf could think.

The wave bore down on the highborn, who rapidly shook the charcoal out of the robe before half-donning it to free up his off hand... the side of him that was hit by the water, the side hitting the ROBE, did not send him sprawling as he expected he might, but it DID send the crate sailing across the hold, away from safety, into darkness... and he strained to maintain contact of the beam from the wand with the where he imagined the center of the breach was.

GULP. GULP. Suddenly the hold was completely flooded, but the highborn held his breath to direct the beam where it needed to lie -- just to buy his comrade some time. Something large and cephelopodic coursed near him -- but he could bear it no mind... a tendril rose above the water, a row of suction cups in the tentacles seeming to BLINK with it's retractable hooks... he slashed the vine of muscle with his off hand and the sharpness of his blade was true... soon the water below him was as dark with ink, as the dearth of light around him, but still he held the wand below the water this time, where he was confident the center of the hole was.

The highborn in the captains quarters found it, a box, collapsed upon the floor, half open to reveal inside A TEAR OF BLOOD. locking it away he continued his sprint from the room in reverse before doing a jumping spin, not unlike a dancer to keep catapulting him back towards to exit wound in the upper deck... pulling on his rope to signal he was ready.

It was too much below deck. Half a gulp, another gulp, the highborn feared that the ink had somehow disrupted the beam. THEN...

Then in earnest the ship began to sink. High above the highborn could hear the crossing plank that had been set up for Sir Lothar exploding into a cloud of splinters... as water flooded the hold, all cargo was being pushed up and out of the hold into the second decks, and the highborn free ran and climbed a series of crates so that he would not be crushed or blocked in the flooding hold below.

As he tugged urgently on his rope, the tentacled thing returned and made a grab for his ankle. Surprise could be such a poor substitute for preparation and conditioning -- another limb of the cephelopod fell into the darkness as he emerged as king of the hill atop a boiling press of crates into the already flooded second level. Looking through the water above, he could see the bright red glow of his comrade already above him, and he began to climb his own rope even as it was hoist up above him... GAIN GROUND... GAIN GROUND... he would need to hurry as it would seem the ceiling of the second deck was so close, hitting his head would be a disaster... he needed breath... he'd been underwater half this time.

A lunge toward light placed him in the middle of the hole in the second deck and saw him rapidly riding the boiling rise of water as the deck of the Fluyt, once well above the deck of the sloop, was halfway below it to be swallowed by the sea forever. from the center of the hole and secured by rope he continued to see his comrade sail high above him, and the ship conversely to vanish all around him with a steam of sea mist...

...They made it, they would be hauled back.

RESULT:

Highborn retrieve "Robe of elemental defense"

Highborn Retrieve "Wand of fields"

Highborn Retrieve "Tear of Divinity -- blood"

when they got back on deck they saw that the folk who saved their lives, who held and hoisted the ropes, were all attolians. While there was little dispute for greatness of stamina, the highborn yeilded to the imploring of the men to do the job of lifting their brethren to safety -- good beasts of burden they were, it would seem! The sweaty double-line of men took their leave or collapsed in turn, but not before each one shook that hands or patted the back of the gasping highborn divers...

The Fluyt was GONE.. the sloop was pulled a full ten feet over to where it once was in the displacement and disturbance of the water -- but they quickly righted their course and sped onward.

The highborn below would never be honest to any but his most intimate lovers how close he felt to death that day... no, a Swordmaster if he could not laugh at death, would grit their teeth at it... and truly he felt the reaper had been denied a prize this day, while their party had gained three. He would meditate heavily in the days remaining the voyage what this might mean... and resolved to pay the angels of death three boons, one for each prize they claimed in denying it...

 

[Spacekitty]

(1/3)

"Science! And Contributions"
The Finecian’s join the Science guild, delegating their Master Botanist to the operation and donating the amber encased Giant Red Ant and preserved Automaton hand to the guild, along with their (2) units of rusted automaton parts, INCLUDING the rusted head and torso, Prince Vaethorion Heyitsjiwon
(1 Capo delegated, Amber Encased Giant Red Ant, Ember Encased Automaton Hand, 2 units Automaton fragments(head and torso))


“Tightening our Hold - Brew-Master’s Guild”
The Finecian’s will be officially creating the “Brew-Master’s Guild”, a guild focusing on the art and luxury of the distillation of alcohols of all varieties, positioning itself as the Colonies leading institution in the Industry. Their Master Brewer will be delegated as the prospective head of the guild and several of their brews. The Master Botanist will also take part to use his knowledge of plants to help cultivate new brews. The Ratkin and Attollians are asked to take part.
(2 Capo delegated, 5 skilled worker, 5 unskilled worker, Ale, Wine, Beer, Potentially Mead and Honey based brews) Beckoncall Heyitsjiwon KamiKahzy

“Luxury Guild Takeover”
The Finecian’s Officially join the Luxury guild, delegating the Master Jeweler/Metallurgist, Master Brewer and providing many Luxury items.
(2 Capo Delegated, Honey, Amber, “Heaven’s Aroma”, Fish) Beckoncall

“Hammers and Stuff”
The Finecian’s Officially join the Smiths Guild, delegating the Master Jeweler to the task.
(1 Capo Delegated, Amber Jewelry) Beckoncall

“MAGIC”
The Finecian’s Officially join the Mage’s Guild, sending Master Illusionist Jonti and Adnrei to assist it.
(2 Capo Delegated) Beckoncall

GROCERS GUILD - No workers delegated but relevant products are sold. Water Plants, Fish, Mushrooms



Finecian Guild List for @Beckoncall

SCIENCE GUILD - 1 Capo delegated (Botanist), Amber Encased Giant Red Ant, Ember Encased Automaton Hand, 2 units Automaton fragments(head and torso)

GROCERS GUILD - Sontio delegated to help ensure production meets colonies food requirements. Water Plants, Fish, Mushrooms

BREWMASTERS GUILD - 2 Capo (Brewmaster and Botanist) 5 skilled worker, 5 unskilled, delegated, Ale, Wine, Beer, Potentially Mead and Honey based brews

LUXURY GUILD - 2 Capo Delegated (Brewmaster, Jewelry), Honey, Amber, “Heaven’s Aroma”, Fish

SMITHS GUILD - 1 Capo Delegated (Jeweler), Amber Jewelry

MAGES GUILD - 2 Capo Delegated (Illusionists)

CAPO GUILD DELEGATION LIST FOR BECK
Andrei Connic - Illusionist badass assassin. Elite Assassin. Mages guild..


Jonti Capro - Illusionist. Mages Guild.


Mikkoleti Sonto - badass rogue/assassin lite. Master biologist/scientist. Specializes in discovering useful materials in nature, especially those of an illicit or magical nature. Science, Brewmasters guild.

Kreig Varn - Metalergist/jeweler. Smiths and Luxury Guild.


Mr. Mallothew - Baddass/Assassin lite. Politician, planner, businessman, Wheeler dealer type.


Yuln Orsona - Master Brewer/drug grower. Perfects brew and illicit drug recipes, manufacturing techniques and related activities. Brewmasters, Luxury Guild.


"Sontio Ornolldo" - "Jack of all trades, master of none" -- real specialty is serving to improve the work of other specialists. Hes the guy who gets shit done. Grocers guild.

 

[Spacekitty]

(2/3)


"A Finecian Fair (continued)"
The Finecians, required to provide at least 30 manpower to the construction to the Colonial project continue to provide their support. Ample Amber will be given to the colonial building, and they offer to source Wood from their local forests to help build and decorate the interior. They continue to provide drinks and food to the workers (Freemen, Exiles and colonial) at their own expense, and offer 1 wealth to be distributed among workers (Freemen, exiles and Colonial for their services.

Summary: The Finecians supply Amber, Wood, Drinks and Food to the Colonial Government Building Project. They offer 1 wealth total in compensation to be divvied up amongst all workers (Freeman, Exile and Colonial) Capo sent to oversee and motivate Finecians, along with to personally hand our drinks to workers to build a good rep among them. "We are all on the same level friends!". 1 Capo, 1 Troll, 2 thugs, 8 skilled, 1 wealth workers delegated to the project.

"I Kill Your Monster, You Kill Mine (Continued)"
The Amaryans (10 Brutes, 1 Scarred) are invited to further fill their purses and stomachs at an EATING event held by the Dwarves! They are warned that their meals bite back, so they will have to help the colonial forces kill the before eating them. The Skilled Thugs will now be sent to help deal with the Cave Fishers. Beyond that, already delegated forces for the most part, remain in effect. As part of an agree made with the Firebeard Dwarves and to help protect the colony from the Cave Fisher threat, the Finecian's agree to provide assistance by sending the Dwarves additional troops, Grump the Troll, Andrei (Capo-Illusionist Assassin), Jonti (Capo-Illusionist), 4 thugs, and 5 skilled brewers/nurses (They would merely know how to brew certain medicines, not true doctors save first aid).

SUMMARY: 1 Troll, 3 Capo, 4 thugs, 5 Skilled Workers, 6 skilled thugs, 10 Brutes, 1 Scarred provided as fighting force.

“We totally never considered using this stuff on your guys”

With available poisons theorized, the Finecians will be able to produce a hallucinogenic poison, a sedative poison, and a very dangerous substance called "Skrape" -- which is the effluvium that is literally scraped off of the drug/alcohol processing equipment. Skrape smells powerful so it is unpopular to sneak up with except on small weapons -- but arrows and blades that have been "Skraped" are pretty deadly. The Finecians recommend the use of sedative poison to help subdue and capture cabe fisher as part of a suggested Cave-Fisher farming project with the Highborn. Therefore the Finecians will produce both a Sedative poison they refer to as “Sleeping Juice” ” and Skrape so as to arm their forces with Skraped blades and arrows.

SUMMARY: The 5 skilled brewers delegated to the fighting force are ordered to produce “Sleeping Juice” and to Skrape their weaponry.

UNTIL THIS MISSION IS UNDERTOOK THOSE NOT INVOLVED IN POISON PRODUCTION WILL ASSIST IN “SOURCING THE GOODIES” TASKS.

Sourcing the Goodies
Finecians continue to produce Alcohols and Jewelry for their distribution. They will now be experimenting with Honey to create Mead and honey flavored brews under the supervision of the Master Brewer.
(1 Capo, 10 Skilled Workers)

Finecians continue to Fish
(5 thugs)

Finecians continue to tend to the Farm. Honey cultivation/production is incorporated as part of the Farm groups duties.
(1 troll, 5 Skilled workers, 10 thugs)

Finecians gather more Amber. Sontio sent to oversee gathering.
(1 Capo, 5 Skilled Workers)

The Blooming Lamb continues to be manned by two Finecian Brewmasters, although renovation are now complete
(2 Skilled workers)

Due to labor pool restraints, the Finecians will pull on their inside connections and influence with the fisherman/exiles to try and hire workers to assist in “Sourcing the Goodies” Projects, offering good pay, food and FREE drink to workers. Beckoncall

The Runners
The Finecian suggest attempting to train Runners as War mount, specifically the naturally aggressive Alphas and believe the Betas herd should be split in three and will be using their third to help ferry their own cargo and expedite their tasks.
(Finecians begin using the Runners to help transport goods between their operations and to the building of the town hall)

ANTS
A troll is used to further plog up the entrances with rock and whatever heavy things can be found.
(1 Troll)

"A Green Paw"
Continuing to work side by side with their growing Tyren business partners and friends, the Finecians pitch in their own flair and expertise in the cultivation of the botanical garden around the colonial government building, sending their Master Botanist to help organize and decorate the place, given his expertise in the field. Along with this Jewelers are tasked with using their natural creativity to add their own touches to the gardens, with amber, native plants and flowers sourced from the river and even native Finecian plants. 1 Troll and 2 additional thugs delegated to assist.
Summary: (1 Capo, 1 Troll, 5 thugs, 5 Skilled workers, Amber) @SpiralErrant

Finecians wait for join project with Ratkin to begin. @KamiKahzy

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon :

"Vault of the Nerid" ...

(Engineer, Caelis, Cassandra, 50 Siren, 2 Augmented Stone Constructs, 5 Skilled Workers, 10 Unskilled Workers, 10 Halberdiers, 5 Constables, 2 Sundered Kings)

It was quite a host indeed. The constructs, small amalgams of various heaps of stone that seemed to trail dust wherever they went as their "limbs" grinded together wherever they went, they seemed about the size and broadness of dwarves, if dwarves were made out of chunks of old masonry from the ruins -- they first arrived at the site and began setting up two cranes for when the unskilled workers and their foremen arrived soon after. It was planned, that if the door had to be forced, the winches on the crane would pop the doors off of their hinges and the cranes would retain them so as not to fall on the bodies below.

The constables stood stoic for a time, before the true peace in the district began to sink in... one constable removed his helmet, was swatted by his comrade, and restored discipline. They'd come a long way. The Halbardiers watched the perimeter, moving outside the areas in 3s and 4s... their lead officer rotating between the details. The sundered kings relaxed and drank water and wine in the sunlight as they waited for the details to make progress, the Sirens would be soon behind them, along with the Engineer and Caelis himself. The reason for all the soldiery? If there was something amiss in this shaft below, it should be ready to be challenged if it emerged. Likewise, five men had already died in this endeavor, which one could suppose was a reason for high attolian gravity about the site.

The Engineer approved of the cranes, and the constructs left the area of the hatch area... the sirens gathered around, and it was widely cautioned that all folk move away from the site and still cover their ears. The note they cried was both shrill and harmonic, but nothing to be confused with music. Everyone in the effected area felt the water in their eyeballs shake, and a horrible sensation that was semi-akin to drowning until they VOLUNTARILY inhaled. It could only be speculated how much worse this sonic assault could have been below water... but with the cessation of the siren "song" -- the door attempted to open, popped it's hinges like paper party favors, and threatened to slide into the vaulting hole below...

....The cranes secured the doors -- intact and beautiful, equally decorated but even better protected from the ravishes of time on the under-side... these doors were a treasure and the engineer and skilled workers began conversations a-flutter with coming up with a new cover for the vault so that the precious works of art could be appropriated...

Almost immediately, the constructs were rigged to their own winch on the crane and lowered below with large burlap sacks -- in case the bodies were easily recovered. Deep down the sound of crunching could be heard echoing up the shalf, and the loading of bags. Many of the workers sighed as to what this could mean.... and they were not surprised when the constructs were hauled back up....

Frozen solid, were the 5 gaunt-white and shattered corpses of the Lost workers -- where necessary the ice was broken from the floor where their blood had fused with the frozen floor. The two constructs carefully placed the sacks off to the sides.

The constructs were questioned. "Everyone frozen down there." when questioned if they were referring to the folk hey just recovered they declined by grinding the little boulders they had for heads side to side.

"No....Everyone frozen down there."


How to proceed?

 

[Beckoncall]

Everyone

"Smoke of an oddly rain..." :

It was one day later and the burning neck of the tree-turned monolith shere-carrier began to smoke... shortly after... it began to rain... FROM the orb. first a sliding wetness down the neck of the tree, then in great droplets that seemed to fall, or tumble to the ground of the bone pit.

Sentries dispatched to examine the phenomenon however did not, could not report the phenomenon was rain.

"It's Saliva?" Jav said to the host of constables that ran with the halbardiers....

"THE TREE IS DROOLING?!" Tomaz buckled his helmet on.

"Lets get back to the Platz and report this.... disgusting."

The "rain" stopped hours later... but memory of the event would not leave ANYONE...

 

[Beckoncall]

Everyone :
FORCES AGAINST THE FISHER-MOTHER!:

Firebeards:


30 Skilled workers are ready to stand by, tools in hand, in case things go bad. (reserve)

5 Very Skilled workers are slaving away and will stand with the workers when the battle begins, ready to give their all (reserve)

15 Skilled Warriors are ready to form a wall, defending the army as best they can.

4 Deep Rangers intend to risk it all to help slay the Mother.

Grimdr himself will stand amongst those in the wall, giving his skill and his weapons to the fight also.

Worker back-support for recovery, healing, logistics.



Attolians:

2 Augmented Stone Constructs
5 Halberdiers
5 Constables
20 cunning,
2 scarred

Dr. Fleming for medical help and potential dissection/analysis of the cave fishers
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.



Fennec:

((1 Troll (grump),

3 Capo, Illusionist, Illusionist/assassin, Fighter

10 thugs, (6 are V-skilled shooters)

5 Skilled Workers -brews and medics in reserve))

1 scarred aymaran, 10 brutes



Highborn:

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)

10 brute/cunning

2 scarred

5 lurker cunning*

1 lurker scarred*

*Very amped about got rot

Tyren:

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.


POISONS!:

For the Fisher-Mother Expedition, so far:

Fennec are bringing Sedative poisons,

Ratkin are bringing "HellSnuff"



OOC: If you have a strategy besides rushing this thing, please start a thread discussing the plan.

 

[Beckoncall]

MANPOWER AND COMMODITIES FOR GUILDS UPDATE! --

I HAVE PROCESSED ALL STANDING ORDERS!!! (*except fennecs that just posted) as such -- It's time to update the guilds, for book-keeping AND influence bonuses! (once ships arrive in the new world, news of your deeds will spread to the old world, and people will get another chance to spend influence on manpower!)

So Make sure your influence tallies are up to date, for those who spend more influence than others, don't fret -- manpower is based on total accrued (not unspent) influence!

List of guilds:

Grocers: (INCLUDE FOODS YOU BRING TO THE GUILD AS THIS IS THE VARIETY OF A HEALTHY/UNHEALTHY COLONY DIET)
Farmers: (INCLUDE CROPS)
Luxuries: INCLUDE COMMODITIES/PROCESSED GOODS
Healers:
Glassmakers:
Archeologists:
Performers:
Learners:
Blacksmiths:
Mages:
Science:
Brewmaster
Masons:

You can have experts in more than one guild, but the bonuses they give are spread thinner. Manpower committed to guilds should not be considered part of your regular workforce for orders, as these are full time jobs for regular workers/troops... (experts/characters of course move around a lot so are not so bound)

The tasks currently on deck before winter comes:

0) Anybody with orders they think I missed, LET ME KNOW! IT HAPPENS! + Fennec orders
1) general ostruppen explores the ruins beneath the inn
2) The battle of Fisher-Mother
3) The repopulation of guilds/commodities (updates faction status sections)
4) The reinen enter the labor pool and/or are absorbed into current player factions!

THEN WINTER! Winter will likely be a time of reduced productivity, but more adventuring if people desire, OR, if players like, we can treat winter as another "Great leap forward" -- where people declare what they are working on, it all gets processed, and then we all start doing orders again in the spring.

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon

The mages guild studies the missile tips -- fit for arrows, bolts or javelins, they were obviously designed to shatter on impact.

Once studies by several mages, the following was learned:

1) If one of the fire tips hits something inorganic (like steel armor, for example) the conduction of heat from the crystal to the point of impact will be very powerful, likely melting an area while the arrow is still travelling. (Armor piercing effect) -- if it hits something organic, it will burst into a small-scale fireball enhanced by the amount of air/fuel in the immediate vicinity.

2) If one of the ice tips hits something inorganic (like steel armor, for example) the conduction of cold from the crystal to point of impact with be very powerful, likely freezing an area or potentially the entire target. If it hits something organic, it will burst into a small scale "water-ball" that splashes everything in the area enhanced by the amount of moisture in the area.

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon :

"More talk with the Key'ed one..."

The keyed one kept it's mirror fixed on Nicholas as he spoke, as if nodding knowingly it listened to nicholas speak, or more likely read his lips (or thoughts?) as the racket from a sea of delapidated arms on his back turning his keys made quite a racket... at the conclusion of Nicholas' weighty statements, the Key'ed one replied:

"IT DOES NOT CONCERN THE SPIRES WHAT THE PEOPLE OF BERYTOS CALL THEMSELVES. IF GENERAL PATRICIA IS STILL IN CHARGE OF THE DEFENSE, THE PLAN IS UNCHANGED. INFILTRATION OF THE UNDERGROUND BY THE ZEBANI IS DISCONCERTING -- I CANNOT IMAGINE HOW THEY FIT ANYWHERE BELOW GROUND... BUT IT IS GOOD THAT THE WAR CONTINUES AND MUST BE GOING WELL TO HAVE DRIVEN THE ZEBANI INTO A HIDING STALEMATE, IF NOT THEIR COMPLETE CESSATION. MENTION OF CULL ALSO CONFUSING. CULL WAS REPULSED LONG AGO, WAS DRIVEN BACK BY BERYTOS' OWN TITANS, ALONG WITH THE SINKING OF THE UNDROWNING ONE. CULL ASSUMED DESTROYED. TIME IS DEFINITELY CONFUSING AND DIFFICULT. THANK YOU FOR JOINING THE FIGHT AGAINST THE ZEBANI AND HELPING TO MAINTAIN BERYTOS AS IS OUR CHARGE. CONSIDER US ALLIES. TAKE THIS AUTOMATON THAT HAS RECENTLY BEEN MY GUARDIAN AND SPREAD WORD THAT THE SPIRES UPHOLD THE WARDPACT WITH THE NEW ALLIES OF BERYTOS. DO NOT WORRY ABOUT THE PAA'ANI -- THEY WERE ESCORTED OFF CONTINENT THROUGH CAVE NETWORKS BELOW THE OCEAN. NO AUTOMATONS RETURNED SO WE ARE ASSUMING 100% SUCCESS."

With that, Nicholas was jostled with some probe from under the mirror... his sign to leave.

Helysoune grabbed his arm and walked jerkily towards the door with him.

As they descended the stairs, The heroine whispered:

"I earned my gold and then some. When we get back to the colony I'm going to treat myself to far too much booze and more than my share of nubile male company... The artifacts I gathered while here will be sent to your home, Nicholas -- do not disturb me while I am at the lamb... I have a date with a giant pitcher and a whole bevy of hillfolk before I'm ready to hang a shingle again."

Nicholas is sent a variety of interesting artifacts from the spire!

 

[Beckoncall]

SpiralErrant :

"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."

The Tyren-born arrived at the edge of the swamp of onlyday an hour before dawn -- the sound of the onlydaybugs was near deafening... apparently each island had it's own clutch of bugs, which were fiercely territorial but seemingly clashed for mating rights, or courtship... it seemed that the onlydays might be hermaphroditic, as the Tyrenborn witnessed victorious breeders also get inseminated by way of "detachable mating harpoons" -- The weak were killed or cast aside, only the mightiest mated with the mightiest and of the dead examined later none showed signs of successful copulation.

When the Onlydays were not fighting and impregnating each others rival colonies, they were working together to down larger prey -- A huge serpent was observed to be "boarded" and vivisected by three islands worth of onlydays, which didn't take much time at all. They seemed to prefer running around on the islands and the solid ways between them, but were not at all against swimming or attacking things in the water. Small prey insects to large reptiles -- nothing seemed off the menu for them. When Dawn began to break, all onlydaybugs returned to nests -- and it certainly seemed like the previous territoriality rules went out the window as each onlyday dove into the nearest nest -- even invaders from other nests moments before. Wounded and crippled onlydaybugs promptly burst into flames at the moment sunlight fell upon them, even ones partially covered in mud or semi-immersed in water.

Most onlydays seemed to have three legs, but many of the larger specimens seemed to have four -- or perhaps when their... ahem... endowments reach a certain size they use them to help them walk.

The day saw them stay in their nests despite mild antagonism by the Tyrenborn... they knew to avoid the light, but attempted to pull offending objects and feet into the nests. It was during the first moments of dawn that the Tyrenborn discovered that it was not just sunlight that burned onlydays, but torchlight -- presumably any type of light. -- or more specifically non-reflected illumination, seemed lethal to onlydays.

The examination of the nests was cut short when a mating harpoon was actually FIRED from a nest at one of the Tyren-born, narrowly missing an ankle, bouncing off of a tree-stump and promptly foaming out sperm and eggs in a mixture from both ends of the spike.

"Yep. Hermaphrodites. Lets get the HELL out of here before one of us gets hit with one of those disgusting stamen things."

They reported back to Harun'Taras -- "They are nasty as hell in any way we'd care to describe -- no way in hell it's safe to go into that swamp at night."

 

[SpiralErrant]

Drooling, they said? That was some concerning news right there. As if everything about the Cull wasn't already enough to fill your mind with dread, now it was better defended and dreaming of its meal to come. The wheel of the seasons turning and time was growing short.

What could they say about the bugs of the cull for sure? They knew it could be stopped by a big rock. That if it could be hurt then its hivemates would turn on each other. That like many beasts it hunted by smell, at least partially, and in that was a way to confuse it. And that once it woke they'd have no hope...

This thing had killed gods and world's. Could the spirits of the ancient woods they'd conjured to protect them stand up to it?

For now it fell to the shaman to carry on that fight. The tyren had no great scientists to call on and dissect bodies search for hidden flaws. If they were to find any salvation it would be in magic and the spirits. Since the corpse had been shared with the colony Orm had become certain that the chain of metal orbs the gnolls had given him were the eyes or some piece of the cull. And he'd long ago learned that having something of the spirits they called on could help the spirit speakers at their work. Now he just had to hope that the gathered power of the three rings could find them a way to kill this creature, or lock it in sleep forever.

[The three shaman all go to inspect the black tree for weaknesses and the nature of its shield and drool. They have been given the chain given to Orm by the gnolls believed to be a part of the cull.]

Yet while the masters were away the students were starting their work. Before they'd relied on the elf Mage to translate the magic tome left to them by the sylvan, foolishly neglecting their own local experts. A mistake Orm would never stop kicking himself for. And now with Anais on hand with her unparalleled powers of translation they had another set of eyes to help with finding it's secrets.

One student he didn't expect to come calling was Anuc the healer. She'd practically begged and pleaded with Orm to be allowed another look at the thing. He could never find himself of a mind to deny her, looking into those big dark eyes. It was gifted to her, he supposed, and she had spoken of how her sight had learned to aid her healing arts.

Someone who was familiar with it could only help, he supposed.

[Anais, Anuc the healer and 5 springborn renew work on studying the barkbound tome.]

"Oi! How much of your shit will this get me?" And down by the docks there were other tyren with their minds on far more... terrestrial matters.

Most weren't living in fear of the cull but the winter frost and what it might do to their new crops. And the slop these dwarves had brought with them was a cut above the usual manure they scavenged from the grazing fields.

[Tyren ask, how much manure does 2 wealth get them?]

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Magic, once again, magic has stopped progress. While the men were glad that the bodies were recovered and given a proper burial, the Vault would have to be explored, but it appeared to be a very dangerous place. It seemed like some sort of ice magic was present inside, or at least some speculation seeing how the bodies froze so quickly. Thus, they would have to experiment and figure out how to safely explore the area. The Engineer sighed and said "It looks like there's more bodies down there. We should try to figure out what else is down below and recover them." The Engineer then began to prepare the crane once again to send the constructs down with instructions to recover the other bodies. Something foul was down there if there were other bodies as well. They needed as many hints as possible as to what it could be. However, they also had to figure out how everything was frozen below as well. Thus, the Engineer sent some of his assistants to run and grab a few things: a bucket of water, and a living capybara. He guessed that the floor may cause things to freeze, but the constructs seemed to be immune. Thus, perhaps the magic only affects living or "organic" things. That is why he planned to send down a bucket of water and then a capybara to see if they would quickly freeze. Otherwise, perhaps it was just really cold down there, and it would be safe to people to explore the vault for short periods of times. Regardless, the Engineer was not taking any chances. Too many Attolians had died in these damned ruins. He would not risk anyone else.

---

Nicholas returned to his house/workshop with conflicting emotions. He had just seen the most awe inspiring sight he had seen in his life. The technology and inventions that he saw... what he could learn. It would take him longer than a lifetime to create something like the Spire, but at the same time he felt motivated to create something even better. The Spire and clockwork soldiers had their issues, which Nicholas thought that he could solve. Plus, the technology could be used for other applications that could be much more useful. Nicholas had reported hiss encounter with the Key'ed One to Caelis. It appeared that they were now allied with the Spire, but Destruction was barely operational. Plus, the Key'ed One mentioned something interesting about the Cull... the titans were used to repel it. Perhaps they needed to gather the power of the titans to combat the Cull. Regardless, this was a matter that was not up to his decisions. He had another job to do as he looked at the pile of parts that Helysourne had brought.

---

Caelis bobbed up and down as Ventus crested the hill. With him was a small entourage to visit an important figure, The Green Goddess. There were numerous stories about the Green Goddess and some of the Tyren seemed to partially worship her. However, Caelis was not here to worship. No, he came to talk with another Titan as it seemed more and more convincing that the Titans would be needed to combat against the Cull. Among him were some of the Sirens and a few of the Attolians. The Sirens were beings attuned with nature, and so Caelis figured that the Green Goddess would be more receptive if the Sirens were among his companions. Among the entourage, they brought various small gifts such as flowers, plants, teas and spices to offer as gifts and to plant them around the Green Goddess. The group made significant progress towards the Green Goddess as they climbed hill after hill until finally they crested the last hill. Before them was the statue. The group approached the Green Goddess, and as they did so Caelis dismounted from his horse and took off his helm. He walked to the statue and said "Hail Lady of the Flower, I am Caelis Wolff, Lord of the Attolians. We come with greetings and gifts, and seek your wisdom."

---

The Firebeards had recently requested to join the Colonial Government, which the Attolians had an issue of approving. The Firebeards had been a combatant who fled to the New World without a Charter. Thus, without taking precaution, the Muurdaan could perceive this as the Colonial Government housing an enemy and view the Colony as an enemy as well. This was something that Caelis wished to avoid at all cost. Thus, an idea was born. What if the Colonial Government granted the Firebeard a charter to help colonize the New World in a manner that is similar to how many former enemies of the Empire were sent here to establish a colony. In addition, the Firebeard had agreed to take an oath of Non-Aggression with the Muurdaan, which might not mean much if the Firebeards weren't Dwarves. However oaths and promises that Dwarves gave were sometimes worth its weight in gold as they viewed their honor as a paramount virtue to uphold. Thus, this could be a document that the Muurdaan would be willing to accept as it would legally render the Firebeards as extra labor for the Colony and the Firebeards would swear an Oath to not raise arms against the Muurdaan as long as the Muurdaan do not transgress against them. It would be wise to take this deal as it would pacify a long time enemy of the Empire and broker peace with the skill of Attolian arbitration. Plus, it would grant extra help in the Colony, which the Muurdaan would profit from. With this Charter, the Attolians would have less concern and also approve of the Firebeard's entry into the Colonial Government.

---

With Winter swiftly approaching, many steps had to be taken to make sure that the Colony was ready to deal with the cold. Most were ready for the most part, but the Exiles on the Depression still lived in makeshift homes and shacks. Caelis expressed concern about their ability to stay warm in the Winter, so a group of Attolians volunteered to help out the Exiles who still lived in the area to help renovate their homes so that it would be a better and warmer place to live in. Another concern was that Learner's Square would be inactive throughout the winter as during the cold, most prefered to stay indoors. Not to mention that it would be hard to learn when it was freezing. Learning had to be an enjoyable experience, and the Attolians knew that. Thus, the Architect was sent out to take some time to design a practical building to allow the Square to operate throughout the winter. He had a significant taskforce aiding him and access to a fortune in order to get extra help to get this project done by winter, but it may not be enough. Thus, the Attolians sent word that they sought help for this project. While it wasn't a colonial project like the College, the hall was important as well as it could be used as the center of primary education while the College could be for secondary and specialized education.

---

The Ironbound Book had spells to grow various crystals, which seemed invaluable. Thus, the Linguist set forth to teach Cassandra, and several sirens. The book was written largely in draconic, but what he could translate so far was enough to grow crystals. The sirens, it was speculated, could be taught to sing to crystals as their voices were "enchanting and magical" if they were taught the spells. The Linguist had heard stories of farmers singing to crops to make them grow larger, but this was a first. Using songs to sing spells in order to grow crystals, it almost sounded crazy and he would have thought so if he had never come to these strange lands and personally saw crazier things. Regardless, since the Sirens were attuned to water, he bought a bit of ice from the traders. He thought that it would be easier for the sirens if the crystal was a form of water. They then went to one of the root cellars in the Attolian Housing District. If this spell proved to be as useful as he thought, then they would be able to create an Ice House and continuously make ice throughout the year. Thus, the Linguist turned to his new students and began to give his lesson.

Summary:

Recovery of the other bodies in the Vault and experiment to see if there is some sort of freezing magic
Engineer, 2 Augmented Stone Constructs, 5 Skilled Workers, 9 Unskilled Workers, 5 Sirens, 5 Halberdiers, 5 Constables

Study of the Parts that Helysourne brought
Nicholas, 5 Skilled Workers

Visit to the Green Goddess with gifts to see if she knows of anything or can help with the Cull
Caelis, 5 Sirens, 5 Unskilled Workers

Making a charter for the Firebeard Clan that includes a Non-Aggression Pact
Castellan, 2 Sundered Kings

Renovation of Exile Homes in the Depression to provide better shelter for Winter
5 Skilled Workers, 10 Skilled Workers, 15 Unskilled Workers, 5 Sirens, 2 Augmented Stone Constructs

Building of Learning Hall at Learner's Square: a building for learning even in harsh weather/temperature
Architect, 10 Skilled Workers, 20 Unskilled Workers, 10 Sirens, 2 Augmented Stone Constructs, 2 Wealth

Teaching and Practice at Growing Crystals (Ice)
Cassandra, Ironbound Book, Linguist, 15 Sirens, 1 Wealth

 

[Spacekitty]

(3/3)

"Community Service"

Snowball slunk behind their Amaryan escorts like a shadow, the bulky masses of muscle and stench shouting out guttural war cries and bashing their crudely made axes and clubs together, creating a cacophonous noise that filled the ruins and surely awoke the dead rudely from their slumber. The croc men pushed, shoved and beat each other senselessly in their hungered hype, occasionally breaking off into quick wrestling matches as the internal hierarchy was challenged and reformed. The Scarred, aptly named for it’s massive, scale covered frame which was broken by jagged, grotesque scars, remained at the head of the pack, beating down savagely on any Brute who dare try to assert itself. It was amazing any were still left alive by time they reached the Theater district. But the croc-men seemed to pay little head to the animalistic beatings they both gave and received.

The lack of restraint, pure animalistic instinct was almost painful for the small Fennec to watch. He did his best not to get trampled by them… he was quite certain they could step on and squish him if they wanted to...

They were tough and thick skulled, taking blows that would have turned a Fennec to jelly. Even after being bashed on the head with a rock the things would get back up, the previously fighting pair seemingly stronger and more closely knit than ever. This was likely the reason why the colonial’s were having such a hard time training them, and why they were so easily duped into fighting for them, Snowball mused. He would have some fun toying with them on the journey...

Although stupidity and aggressiveness was likely their norm, the Amaryans were especially active today. The reason for their hyperactivity was simple- the Amaryans were excited at the prospect of what they had been told we a mass feast. A three thousand course meal at that! They were to eat well today as far as they were concerned. The thought that three thousand angry undead may be too much for the small party to handle seemingly never crossed their dull minds. Or perhaps they simply weren’t phased by the prospect of death. One had to wonder if the dumb brutes were even aware of their own mortality. The Finecian’s certainly were…

Which is why they had positioned themselves and their Amaryan escort in the back of the party, despite the risk of being squished beneath reptilian feet or having their thick skulls bashed in by a wildly swinging spike-club. They were willing to take that chance rather than be in the front lines or stuck in the middle of the pack when things turned sour. This way, they could turn and run with no one to block their exit, and have their Amaryan guardians rush forward to unwittingly sacrifice themselves so the Finecians could make their escape. It was safe to say they didn’t have a lot of confidence for the mission, if the rumors they had heard were right….

Snowball sprung backwards as the Brute he was hiding behind suddenly stepped backwards, his large taloned foot brushing past his whiskers as it smashed against the cobbled ground with a thud. The brute let out a roar and tossed it’s axe off to the side, the crude iron instrument smacking the brute beside him, and charged at its comrade before it, the pair locking arms in contest. Having to jump so suddenly would have likely tripped up less agile races, but the small Fennec was like an acrobat, pushing off on the cold ground with his exposed feet, flipping backwards in the air with his arms outstretched so as to catch the ground and continue his momentum in a backwards summersault that landed him once more on his toes. He let out a almost feminine sigh of mixed annoyment and relief and looked up at the battling crocs with dismay, His white turban now sitting crookedly on his head. He re-adjusted it, whining as the neat folding around his large ears was now in shambles.

He had little time to be annoyed however, as an Amaryan brute behind him surged forward, careless to the tiny foxes around his feet. Snowball rolled to the side, narrowly passing through the stride of a neighboring brute and popping up behind it. But just as he did so it seemed another of his Comrades had the same idea, the two fuzz balls crashing into each other with yelps and sprawling into a furry mess of dirty tunics. The Amaryan behind them, though distracted by its anticipation for the “feast” noticed the collision and moved to the right, sparing the two from being trampled. Whether purposely or merely out of instinct one could only guess.

Thought unhurt, Snowball whined and sat up, patting around his waist, sides and shoulders, making sure all was in order. To even the keen observer, the Finecian seemed lightly armed, his crossbow being carried by an unwitting Brute and a sinister looking dull-silver falcata on his back. Beyond this, no seeming knives, wrist blades or other tricks normally associated with the Foxes. His uniform, a simple dirt covered and worn tan tunic, ill fitting cloth pants and a strikingly fine pink scarf, now slightly soiled from the ground. His comrade wore very much the same, minus the scarf and turban. They carried no utility belt or visible sheaves, nor was the indentation of any weapons visible under their cloth. This of course, as anyone could guess was not exactly the case. Beneath the rough fabric each Fennec wore a series of utility belts of sorts, that spanned from their waist, up their sides and to their shoulders, pocketed with slim sheaves in which thin but deadly knives were tucked, small near seamless slits only accessible to a foxes nimble fingers perforating the waist, sides and back of his tunic to allow access to the weapons. With one seemingly fluid flick of their wrist they could send a knife flying in any which direction they so pleased, just as quickly drawing another as the first hit it’s target. They were assassins in every sense of the word, only lacking the xbows and retractable wrist knives that had become characteristic of their kind. And like true assassins, they appeared as any other Finecian thug, poor, dirty, and hyperactive. The colonials would write them off with little regard, especially without the keen sight of the Highborn.

Snowball’s Falcata had flown off of his back from the force of the impact, clattering and sliding across the cobbled ground of the ancient road. The small Fennec flew backwards with a grunt, landing on his back on the cold dust, banging his head as he did so, his clean turban landing in a murky puddle just above his head. He leaned up, groaning and rubbing the back of his skull, although unhurt. Grumbling he pressed against the bruise and brought his hand to his face, examining it for blood. Satisfied he wasn’t bleeding and therefore staining his fur and clothing with the icky substance, he turned towards his comrade, who was similarly sprawled out but also unhurt.

“Watch where you’re going!” He hissed at Shade, who was already over the incident.

Shade didn’t look at him as he dusted himself off and stood back up, his Falcata swaying casually`on his side. Tugging on and re-adjusting the straps hidden beneath his brown tunic, he finally looked over to his comrade to merely shrug. “We made for the same lizard, not my fault”.

Snowball huffed, flipping himself up with the grace of a Highborn, bending at the waist to lift his legs in the air, and in one fluid motion flicking them back down to launch himself up back onto his feet. “Yeah, well, now my clothes are all dirty and dusty!”

Shade rolled his eyes and started walking to catch up with the party. He had long learned it was best to ignore his friend when he got like this, let him wallow in his pity rather than feeding it. The end result would be the same anyways. Whining, anger, empty threats and then back to his usual chirpy self within the hour. And then the cycle would repeat once more when something inevitably distressed him in even the slightest. “Also your clothes were already dirty Snow…”

“Oh yeah… right…” He muttered, looking down with disdain at the worn and stained tunic he had been given as a disguise ever since shit had hit the fan. “Well my turban and scarf weren’t!” he shouted triumphantly, justifying his own self pity. Speaking of his turban, he went to straighten it to find nothing but his own furry head! Snowball’s beady little eyes widened and an eek escaped his open mouth. “My turban!” The pancing Fennec exclaimed, twitching about and looking desperately for the thing. His jaw dropped when he saw his pristine and neatly folded turban now floating lazily in a puddle of muck.

“Nooo!” He cried, dropping to his knees and delicately lifting the cloth from the pool, mud dripping from it’s stained brim. “It’s… It’s ruined…” He lowered it back down, gently setting it back down on the ground and staring at it sadly, his ears drooped down to his sides.

“It’s just a stupid towel.” Shade said, tugging on his friend’s shoulder. “You have like, hundreds. Just wash it or something. C’mon we gotta catch up with the others.”

“Go away!” Snowball, shouted, standing up to shove Shade away. “And no I don’t, I only brought like ten from back home. This was my only white one! And now it’s ruined...”. It looked like he was actually going to cry over the stupid glorified head band as he returned to pouting over his soiled hat, trying to delicately remove the mud and dirt from it.

Only ten. Shade rolled his eyes and glanced towards their friends who were quickly leaving them behind. “Yeah, whatever. I’ll get you a new one. Just c’mon, everyone’s leaving us behind”. Not that he mind showing up late to them being slaughtered by a mob of zombies…

Snowball’s large ears perked up and he looked up at his friend, tears in the corner of his eyes. “R-really?” He sniffled.

“Yeah, silk and everything. Let’s just get this over with.”

“And a new pink scarf…?” The sniffiling Fennec asked tentatively.

Shade sighed. “It’s not even dirty Snowball…”. There goes his month's pay.

“Yes it is!” Snowball protested, pointing out the small specs of mud that had landed on the back of it.

“Can’t you just wash it out? I mean they’re tiny.” Shade pleaded.

“Yeah I could, but then they’d be like slightly off color and I couldn’t wear it anymore anyways! Everyone would notice.” He whined.

“Ah, of course”. Shade conceded sarcastically. Because everyone totally cared about his fashion statements. Wasn't everyone on the verge of killing them a few weeks ago? “I’ll get you a new scarf too. Just stop being a baby and please let’s just go” he sighed, giving into his friend’s demands.

“Yay!” Snowball exclaimed, chirpy and happily as if he hadn’t been crying over a piece of fabric just moments before. He jumped up, hugging his friend a bit too tightly and licking his cheek affectionately. Shade couldn’t help but smile as he pried Snowball off. “C’mon enough with that… there’s people around.” He glanced about, embarrassed. “Let’s catch up with the others”.

The Finecians continued the journey without incident, dancing amid the slow Amaryans, rolling, sliding and jumping effortlessly around and over them like mini acrobats. They would leap up on top of one of their heads to get a view of the landscape. The things were like mobile guard towers and Snowball felt like a Giant on top on them, easily able to gaze over their much taller party members at the graveyard before them. He would only get a moment however to admire the sight, as the croc-men were not so keen on having foxes atop their heads, and would grab at them. Or at least try to, as the thugs would easily evade the slow and clumsy brutes, jumping back down to the ground or even a neighboring brute, jumping from head to head like a monkey. The brutes had essentially become their own mobile and unwilling jungle gym.

Suddenly, just as Snowball was leaping onto a particularly slow croc he had been teasing with for most of the trip the party came to a halt, causing him to squeal in midair as he flew past the croc and landed on the ground rolling. He panicked for a split second as he felt around for his turban but then remembered it’s fate. From within the forest of giant Brutes he could sense the party tense up, well save for the Amaryans who were now more hyped than ever, letting loose battle cries. Snowball’s sensitive ears twitched, once, twice. Something was approaching..

Curious, although hesitant and half expecting an angry horde of undead to be pouring at them he clambered back on top of the Brute to get a better look.

Upon mounting the beast, his darkest fears were realized. Angry undead were pouring from a relatively intact amphitheater. Hundreds, thousands even with glowing red eyes, grey, sickly skin with long, sharp teeth perfect for eating foxes bared… it was probably an exaggeration but it certainly looked that way to the small finecians.

He stared wide-eyed at the sight, frozen like a deer in the highlights as the horde approached. The front lines braced themselves for what would likely be their one and only stand raising their shields to form a shield wall while archers stood behind them, readying their bows. Meanwhile the hungry Amaryans pushed to the front, eager to begin the feast. Slowly, reality came back to Snowball, partly due to the fact that the Brute he stood on surged forward, knocking him off. Coming to his senses, he looked back, towards their escape route. There was no guarantee it would still be there once the fighting began. This may be their only chance… and hell, they were gonna take it. The group looked around at each other, nodding an unspoken plan; run like hell.

But before their plan could be set into motion, something unexpected happened. A single flaming torch was raised by one of the Victorians. The rest of the party fell into a knowing silence, even the Amaryans seemed captivated by the aura the torch gave off, calming down suddenly, their weapons hanging lazily at their sides. They all turned towards the south, back home.

Confused, the Finecians followed their gaze to stare at the Victorian lighthouse, the grand tower but a spec on the horizon in the distances. Silence for a moment more and then it happened, the Victorian’s tower seemed to glow red for a moment and a pulse emanated from it, the wave spreading across the landscape towards. The horizon turned red and crackled with energy, growing larger and more vibrant as it emanated from it’s source.

As the wave passed over them, everything was cast in a brilliant shade of cherry red. As it washed over the party, Snowball could feel the energy tingling his fingers, causing his fur to crackle with static and stand on end. It continued, spreading over the district, passing through ruins and long dead unlike.

Suddenly the party seemed to relax, even the Amaryans were suddenly still, as if unable to comprehend the scene before them. Confused, Snowball clamored onto the nearest brute, staring in awe just the same when he saw what had become of the long dead.

Ash piles, hundreds of them were just moments before angry undead had clamoring straight for them. The red wave had seemingly vaporized thousands of them in an instant. But more interestingly and what really caught the Finecian’s attention was the glittering GOLD, SILVER, RUBIES and other valuables that littered the landscape amid the ash. More wealth than he had ever seen, even a fraction of it would be enough for a lifetime, although perhaps not with his expensive tastes…

While the faithful helped to guide the lost spirits to the beyond or whatever they believed came next, the foxes were lining their pockets with silver and gold. They shoved every tiny piece of jewelry in whatever nook and cranny they could find, and when their pockets were large heavy balled weights hanging at their sides and pulling their trousers down they began to fill their hidden sheathes with the stuff, discarding their knives in favor of gemstones. It must have been quite the spectacle to the others, watching the foxes frantically producing about a dozen knives each out of thin air and dropping them into a small pile beneath their feet, shoving rings and gemstones in their place. And when those were full… various bodily orifices… let’s just say some of the loot would need a thorough scrub down once they were “retrieved”.

Snowball let out a sickly groan as he swallowed a ring, struggling to force the thing down. He coughed, and choked, the thing was just too damn big. Rather than spit it out however, he used his hand to force it down, coughing up a storm in the process. He bent over, wheezing and coughing up a mixture of phlegm and blood. Pausing for just a moment, he bent over and picked up another ring to repeat the process.

But something was wrong (well other than coughing up blood), everyone seemed to be glaring at them. Was it the fact they had to witness them keistering jewelry? Or maybe it was the fact that they technically weren’t suppose to profit from community service…

With long faces, the Finecians would empty their pockets, pouring an inconceivable amount of loot onto the ground in mini waterfalls. It was amazing how much you could fit in your pockets if you really tried. Resheathing their knives, they would do their best to regurgitate the rings. Snowball wondered if they wanted the brown ones back… perhaps he would keep those as a keepsake. Besides, he didn’t feel like going through the pain of retrieving them right now… He instantly regretted having eaten a large breakfast that morning.

Suddenly, attention shifted once more towards the ruined amphitheater. From within the shadows, new forms could be seen, stepping into the light. Tall, dark skinned elf like beings. They seemed to be Drow elves at first glance. The Finecian’s squealed, running and hiding behind their Amaryan escorts who were sniffing the ash piles sadly, wondering where their meal had gone. Drow elves? In the new world?

Only the other’s didn’t seem frightened by their presence, and the recently arrived Highborn didn’t instantly enter into battle formation. A very good sign. These newcomers must be the “Night Elves” they had heard about. The Night elves gave a short speech in a language the Finecians didn’t understand, which after Highborn translation seemed to anger the Attollians. From what Snowball could gather the Night Elves were claiming the district as inheritance? Did this mean they wanted the brown rings?

The Attolians rebutted the Night Elves claims, and the Night Elves seemed to concede- killing themselves and casting a veil of darkness and disappearing. What an odd bunch. ((I really don't want to write 1000 more words to describe this crap, this will do))

Well, today had been quite an interesting day, but Snowball thought he was gonna call it quits. Besides one of the jewels he had “stored” had some pretty sharp edges and he wanted to take care of that as soon as possible…

SUMMARY: The Finecian Thugs drop the 1 wealth they had gathered and leave the area with their Amaryan escorts, although they inform the colonial government that they would be happy to send back a party to help in clearing/cleaning the district Prince Vaethorion Heyitsjiwon

 

[Beckoncall]

SpiralErrant
[Tyren ask, how much manure does 2 wealth get them?]

"Normally we'd sell you 6 units, for those coffers, this stuff is the best -- but we'll give you 8 if you promise to sell us some stuff we need at a fair price so we don't go away with an empty hold."

We'll trade straight across and keep the filthy coin out of it if you can give us a couple of units of darkleaf and bull iron (OOC: this will not strain supply overmuch)

"If a deal is a deal -- I'd warn you to store that stuff carefully. Don't get fire anywhere near it, and turn the mounds on hot days or they'll literally light up from the inside. It'll be safe when the cool of winter comes, but lets just say there's more than one use for this fertilizer... and you'd be dumb as hell to try it."

 

[Spacekitty]

Beckoncall
Finecian Guild List for @Beckoncall

SCIENCE GUILD - 1 Capo delegated (Botanist), Amber Encased Giant Red Ant, Ember Encased Automaton Hand, 2 units Automaton fragments(head and torso)

GROCERS GUILD - Sontio delegated to help ensure production meets colonies food requirements. Water Plants, Fish, Mushrooms

BREWMASTERS GUILD - 2 Capo (Brewmaster and Botanist) 5 skilled workers, 5 unskilled workers delegated, Ale, Wine, Beer, Potentially Mead and Honey based brews

LUXURY GUILD - 2 Capo Delegated (Brewmaster, Jewelry), Honey, Amber, “Heaven’s Aroma”, Fish

SMITHS GUILD - 1 Capo Delegated (Jeweler), Amber Jewelry

MAGES GUILD - 2 Capo Delegated (Illusionists)

CAPO GUILD DELEGATION LIST FOR BECK
Andrei Connic - Illusionist badass assassin. Elite Assassin. Mages guild..


Jonti Capro - Illusionist. Mages Guild.


Mikkoleti Sonto - badass rogue/assassin lite. Master biologist/scientist. Specializes in discovering useful materials in nature, especially those of an illicit or magical nature. Science, Brewmasters guild.

Kreig Varn - Metalergist/jeweler. Smiths and Luxury Guild.


Mr. Mallothew - Baddass/Assassin lite. Politician, planner, businessman, Wheeler dealer type.


Yuln Orsona - Master Brewer/drug grower. Perfects brew and illicit drug recipes, manufacturing techniques and related activities. Brewmasters, Luxury Guild.


"Sontio Ornolldo" - "Jack of all trades, master of none" -- real specialty is serving to improve the work of other specialists. Hes the guy who gets shit done. Grocers guild.

 

[Enemy Standoo]

Curoi and the fountain

In the dreamscape the only limits were those placed upon the imagination and will of the mind it was built upon. In these lucid moments Father Curoi was no longer the frail old man that hid his aged frame under layers of priestly robes but the young warrior he once was. He was a champion among the devout in his time and for a brief time it felt like his time had come once again, just as the demon had promised. An older mind wrapped in a body of youth and steel.

"How refreshing to see the demon seek out the old man instead of the reverse for a change. You seem serious in your desire to negotiate at least... so let us do so, but as men should. You seem to know something of me already, you knew my name before it was ever given. So tell me, Fountain Dweller, what was your name before you found yourself such?"

The fountain replied...

"Oh yes, my all means lets take things to the next level. You'd end up beating the name out of my witch anyway -- lets get past such trivialities. I was best known in this city of Berytos as Lerohaeroch -- or Gadzeanar in my own age. Do not think me a fool to tell you my truename -- yes you could use it against me... but it is dangerous to swing a weapon of unknown power, is it not? I dare you call me by it... but only if you want our polite discourse to end, and abruptly. In return, If you have honor and truth as you claim to yourself... tell me what it is you fear most? As with my witch, Save me a beating as I have saved you... It's so exciting when one... cuts... to the chase..."

"Rabbits I suppose. Such jittery little things, I never saw the point of them. Young novices would always say how soft and sweet they looked but the little pests always bit if I got too close or would kick and soil themselves if I ever picked them up. Far from sweet if you ask me. No I always felt uneasy holding them, would much rather keep my distance."

The old priest, currently within his young body could sense the skepticism of the demon, even as it hid itself in the incorporeal. "Come now. Just as you would not give a true name do not expect me to give a true fear."

That would set the tone from there, making the stance of the priest all too clear. "You've come to the wrong person if you think I will kneel to you. You'll find no bargains or deals to be struck here, demon. Even if I was so inclined it is not in my power to call off these actions. You may have been grand in the time of these sinful mages but the world has moved on without you, and it rejects you and your wickedness!"

"Father Curoi! Father Curoi, they've returned!" And with startling suddenness the old man was shaken from his slumber. This declaration of defiance still fresh in his mind.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"So it has only grown stronger..."

Elien rubbed at her eye in exasperation once again. She was swiftly coming to realise why so many higher ranking members of the order had become bald as newborn babes or sported permanent frowns like weathered gargoyles. The hubris of the mage kings had lead them to toy with powers far beyond their understanding and now it fell to the next generation to tidy up the leavings that still haunted this unquiet graveyard they called a city. Worse yet so many of the contemporaries, instead of learning from the mistakes of those before them, seemed eager to line up and hurl themselves into the waiting jaws of the demons that now made this land their playground. What could she do but think the worst of such careless charlatans?

"And do you believe it shall strike against us directly now it has failed in its bargains again?" She asked the cleric.

"I am not sure it is capable, Chapter Master. For now there is still too much we do not know about Gadzeanar and what it is capable of. I believe that the demon is currently contained within the masonry of the fountain, at least until it can secure true worship from the colony... however the witch is what truly worries me. Lord Wolff believes he has full control over Gadzeanar itself but I am of little doubt that the demon has sway over this Cassandra woman. Simply looking at her eyes shows how much of her body and soul has been given over to it and now with the mana and blood of the dark elves to work with I cannot be sure she has any free will left within her. If it is to attack we must prepare for her to be the weapon the demon uses."

A dark warning indeed. Their enemies seemed countless in this new world, the purging of the undead that appeared so grand in its happening now looked to measure as a grain of sand against the shore. Then there were these native elves that so conveniently claimed ignorance of their past memories and deeds. Members of the mage courts could walk among their numbers even as she spoke with her advisers, readying plans to reclaim these ruins and wipe out what they saw as intruders to challenge their rule, yet they were allowed to walk free! Elien knew that to have one of these sorcerers could prove a mighty boon to their chapter, a font of knowledge rivaled only by the Aboleth they'd managed to squeeze a starting volume out of. Yet caution won out over curiosity. These infodels had almost sabotaged their plan to cleanse the undead and had wantonly fed the blood demon that still vexed them. She would find a way to make them pay, to bring them low for these affronts!

For now she had her own people to see to. The chapter had won a victory of their own with the clearing of the theatre district and now it was time to consolidate their standing. "We must finish work on this fountain of our own. If it is desperate enough to reach out to a cleric then this must be a true threat to its presence. Sir Tarkus will finalise his designs and you. Father Curoi, I must call on you to bless this work with every incantation you can think of. I will not risk this demon travelling through the waterways it is imprisoned in a defiling our work. This fountain must serve as a true holy monument, just as the lighthouse does! The devout will act as your wardens should this witch care to try and disrupt your work. In the mean time, Father Ghol, we have struck a blow against this Cull it seems, enough that the titan feels a need to defend itself. It falls to you to work with the colonial coven to see if we can fathom a weakness in this shield and if possible... deliver the final blow to this monstrosity."

Onri Ghol nodded in his consent, his pale features looking almost translucent in contrast to his black robes. "It will be done, Chapter Master, and if I may be so bold: If I am to work alongside the sorcerers of the colony, might I take a number of squires and younger members of the chapter to serve as my assistants?" That raised a few eyebrows around the table but once the younger cleric gave his reasoning they were replaced by knowing smiles soon enough. "A chance to learn of these schools of arcana up close could be valuable for our learned brothers and sisters in bolstering our own treasures and for the squires, well magical threats are proving more common than anticipated in this new world, some of them closer to home. It would be wise to give the next generation some training in what to expect from this type of individual."

Elien grasped his meaning soon enough. "Make it so, brother cleric."
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Come all ye made faithful

And so the chapter of the distant tower began its public offensive. Their battle for the hearts and minds of the colonial citizens had begun. But who to go to for such a task?

Hawe! Came the resounding answer. Where so many saw the knights of the order as cold and standoffish, and where so many knights made cold by duty were happy to oblige, there stood Arran Hawe. An upbeat smile and boisterous laugh were always quick to grace his manner, never one to hold on ceremony this one greeted his fellow man with a shake of the hand and a, "Please, call me Arran."

Arrayed in jewels he'd dug up from the earth and replacing his sword for a pair of pickaxes this one struck the folk hero image true and clear. With Curoi and Abel engaged elsewhere he would make a fine face for the chapter to put on. Supported by Sir Bruford to act as translator for any less educated colonists and Sir Zita, a woman who thirsted for conversation like a drink for drink. Between them they should be able to chip away at the imposing image that had formed around the chapter in their opening weeks.

Especially once Sir Abel had begun his shepherding efforts in earnest with his regular performances. Never one to settle for mediocrity the bard knight began to pour his heart and soul into what he was dedicated to making his greatest work. A saga of songs detailing the major events of the holy texts and the lives of the saints.

The first, of course, was the beginning of Saint Victoria's adventures and her call to arms. Harnessing folksy chords and rhythm techniques, as well as Attolian spoken verse method, he told the story of the humble lighthouse keeper and his daughter.

Of the village that was nightly beset by devils of the ether and fiends of the deep. The lighthouse beacon was all that could keep them at bay, that and the sword of the warden who had long since fallen. He sang of the night the old man took ill, poisoned by the dark whispers of demons, and how his young daughter was left to light the fire alone. Oh but the beasts of the dark would not let her do so. They scaled the tower, sent wind's and rain to smother the embers and vile monsters to tear at her flesh.

All seemed lost until amid the storms of ghosts and wraiths one voice called to silence the din. A woman's, soft and comforting and Victoria knew it to be the mother who bore her and died bringing her into the world.

"The warden's weapons are still unclaimed, they were never a man's to take. Take hold your birthright, my daughter, and embrace your true heart."

And through the night did she fight, her mother's sword fast in her hand and fire burning around her. By the dawn's light Victoria could see that she had fended off the worst of the demonic horde and slain the prince who stood at their head... but at great cost. Her home lay in ruins, her family lost to her. All she now has in the world was the sword and armour given on to her by her blessed mother.

With all the world before her and nowhere to go, Victoria took to the road. This was an age of adventurers and heroes she lived in, but monsters and villains too. Victoria knew her purpose in life now. She would take her sword and seek out the darkness that had robbed all she loved of life so that no other might suffer as they had. She would train and become the valour demons feared. Thus began the journeys of Saint Victoria.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"How good it is to return to the fold." Canoness Isabella walked down the line of squires she had been given charge of. Five girls, and five boys she had been allowed to choose herself.

They may have been green with regards to battle but their training and ethic put them leagues above the convicted constables in her estimations. Now once again she could throw herself into moulding the future of the order. Her new chapter master was looking for a swathe of new and interesting ways to train the future warriors of light, apparently one of the clerics had put an idea in her head. Whatever the cause Isabella was a woman who would not hold back an ounce of her prowess when it came to this task. Her duty and name were that of a teacher and she had been given the task of finding a new champion for the chapter, a duty she had fulfilled many times in the past. Whichever one of these squires became her protege she would not have them shame her.

As for the young squires themselves, each was thrilled when they learned they had been chosen for special training with the canoness. Now however they were beginning to see the pressure that lived behind those flint hard eyes. And a collective gulp filled their throats.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Within the walls of the garrison two knights tinkered away at the newest addition to the library. The wealth of historical finds were swiftly outweighing the ability of the monks present to write out all their texts by hand. Copies would need to be made for sharing with the citadel, new tomes would need binding. Since their failure at the spire Chapter Master Elien had grown impatient. It fell to Sirs Prisha and Crofter to conjure up their own, more traditional, press under their own means. With some financial aid from the chapter at least. Even down the hall they could be heard, each one espousing the values of their own trade.

"We should have started like this from the beginning."

"Should we start in the classic press print style?"

"Nonsense! They've been eclipsed by the Almiren press for over a decade. Not to mention what the Tetran scholars are doing."

"But we don't have nearly their recourses. The Muurdaanian approach may be better here, with a few extra gears I could make a frame that could be worked by one."

"A plain outlook but a practical one, I can't deny them that. We'll start there at least and see how things progress."

Spoiler: Action summary:

Work on the Victorian fountain is finalised.
Staff list: Sir Tarkus (Skilled mason)
Sir Margaret Kinsey (Skilled Metalworker)
1 Canonate (V.Skilled Cooper)
20 squires
5 monks
Father Curoi (High Cleric)
5 devout

Sir Abel follows up on his saga and missionary works at the tavern. 2 influence spent.

The church of St Victoria throws its doors open to the public and those interested in the faith. The church "social day" will be providing food and shall be hosted by knights and priests open to answering any questions the curious may have.
Staff list:
Sir Bruford (Skilled linguist)
Sir Arran Hawe
Sir Zita Karkov
1 canonate artist
10 monks
5 squires
2 influence
1 wealth

Work on the Victorian printing press begins.
Sir Prisha (Skilled Engineer)
Sir Violet Crofter (Skilled Printer)
10 Squires
5 monks
2 Wealth

Father Onri Ghol approaches the mage guild to investigate the new state of the cull tree.
Victorians join the mage guild!
Canonate Onri Ghol (Minor cleric/mage)
5 monks
5 squires

Canoness Isabella takes up the training of a personally selected class of squires.
1 Canonate (V.skilled Drillmaster)
10 squires