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

[Heyitsjiwon]

Sir Tristan looked upon the Brood Mother... at first with disgust, but soon with pity. The Gods could only imagine what had befallen the Brood Mother to turn her like this. He doubted that she would be able to move or really care for herself... in fact her desperation to stay alive was alarming as well. He had seen the survivors of... forced interactions, and often times they would lose the light in their eyes. It was only time for many before they would give up. Still, this situation was rather beyond him. The Brood Mother could be adapt at magic... in fact this could all be a trap. However, she was currently a non-combatant. They needed more experts from the mages guild and healers guild to deal with the situation.

For now, Sir Tristain reached for his water bag and ration bag. He gingerly placed them near the Brood Mother and said "Do not worry. For now, quench your thirst and hunger. The little ones deserve a chance at life, for they, like you, did not raise arms and attack us. We will take care of them for now. This is no proper place for a living being. However, we promise to return and help you as well as long as you have not caused us any harm. Lady... what may we call you?"

Taking the hint from Sir Tristain, the Attolian Halberdiers began to pick up the Mud Elf babies and try to calm them with bits of food and water as well.

 

[Spacekitty]

Four pairs of beady eyes stared suspiciously at each other from across the card table, the sounds of the bar room filtered out to a dull buzz as the card players studied their opponents with intense concentration, looking for any subtle, inaudible subconscious clues to give them the upper hand. Keen eyes flickered about, taking note of their own hand and darting between their competitors and the staggered stacks of shining gold coins in the center of the table, the grand prize.

Each held five cards in their hand, the rest of the deck spread out across the table in small groups, a standard game of “King’s Hand” played almost to the end with one hand to go. The dealer, an exile by the name of Saren sat at the head of the table, watching his fox patrons with the slightest of grins as he drew out the tension of the fina hand before finally flipping over the final groupings.

“Make yer’ bets and show yer’ hands” He said, grinning wide and kicking back.

The Fennecs took one last look at their own hands and the opponents across from them. One, a more risk taking fellow pulled out a small draw string bag and tossed it towards the center. “All in”.

The other three gulped internally, but on the outside remained stoic. Checking their hands one last time, they obliged, tossing their own purses into the midst.

The Exile chuckled and swung himself forward back towards the table. He got a cut of each game, so the idea of such a large pot was not so stressful to him. “Alright, show your hands”.

This was the moment, one would emerge rich and the other three poor. They paused for a moment, each doing some barely noticeable movement before laying their cards flat on the table. If one had been paying close attention, they may have seen a flurry of movement amongst each of their hands, maybe even the glimpse of a card or two being switched with a hand hidden within their sleeve. But Fennecs were quick, and the Exile too busy counting his share to watch. Each was confident their little trick would win them the game, smiling internally at their perceived slyness.

At the nod of the card master, they flipped over their hands, all shocked to see they all seemed to have the same exact hand. They looked around at each other for a moment in panic, trying to come up with a plan with the Exile just looked dumbly at the cards.

“They cheated!” they shrieked at once, pointing at one another.

The Exile looked around dumbly for a second more before a large knowing grin began to spread across his face. He grabbed the pile and scooped it towards him.

“You know the rules fella’s, cheaters always lose”. The four Fennecs groaned.


ORDERS:
Every Friday during winter the Finecians will be hosting an inside/outside “festival” at the Blooming Lamb to help keep boredom at bay. Drinks will be half off, dealers will set up functioning card tables and live dancing, singing, Finecian acrobats and other forms of entertainment will be free for all with speciality commodities available for purchase from discret vendors. All are welcome and invited to attend. This festival will also take place outside on the streets of the Tyren settlement where merchants of all races and factions can sell to party goers and street performers can play freely. Fires should keep the place relatively warm. AND FOOD + BEER SHOULD KEEP EVERYONE HAPPY!






Andrei and the Fennecs looked at the misshapen form of the Brood Mother in disgust, some of the Fennecs already preparing to light and throw Fox Tails to end the miserable creatures existence, but were stopped by Andrei. An idea seemed to form in his head as he watched the Attolians gather the Mud Elf Infants. He knew he had one chance.

“Have no fear my Lady, you will not be harmed. If it is a husband you desire, let me be so gracious as to offer you the hand of our finest warrior, Uug (motioning to the armor clad troll who stared at the Broodmother dumbly) to be your husband. Or if that displeases you..” He paused for a moment, as if to decide if he really wanted to go through with this, “Myself. I assure you the others will not give you a better offer for your life or a better suitor. In fact I believe they would be quite keen to imprison, study or even kill you, a horror I would not allow. We- I can rid you of this filth and give you and your children. a new life”. He fell silent. If one could see his face you would see it was drained of color from the thought of marrying that THING, but alas one could not see or hear the cold Assassin’s emotions.


ORDER: The Fennecs offer the Brood Mothers choice of suitors amongst them, safety and comfort.




OTHER ORDERS:
Research on recovered weapons, attempting to reverse engineer them. (10 Skilled Workers)

In order to help defend their Tyren allies, the recalled Search Forces are reassigned to keep watch over the Tyren Cattle. (3 Armored Trolls, 5 Thugs, 5 Skilled Workers, 2 Skilled thugs, 1 capo (Sontio))

Workers are sent to study the green houses and structures built by the Highborn and Attollians in order to learn how they are made so the Fennecs can build their own greenhouses with ease. At the same time they will begin erecting a single, medium sized Greenhouse for testing purposes. They aim to keep the interior hot and dry like a desert so they can grow plants native to their homelands inside the colony. All of this will be overseen by their Master Botanist. (5 Skilled workers to study other factions designs, 10 Skilled workers and 4 thugs to build, Master Botanist to oversee (1 capo))


5 Skilled Workers, 5 thugs and Master Jeweler Capo and Master Brewer (2 capo) to maintain production levels.

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Sir Tristan listened to the Fennec and his eyes narrowed. They were plotting something and in addition had insulted him and the honor of the Attolians. "Hold your tongue, fox. Unlike your folk, we Attolians and the Colonial Government as a whole have a history of honor and trustworthiness. To call us torturers, and to seek your own benefit? It is clear to me that you hold no affection for us, to call us "they" when we sought for a merciful justice for your kinds' murders and thefts. You will retract your words and apologize for sullying the name of the Colony."

---

(More orders coming later)

 

[Beckoncall]

Spacekitty : Fennec learn how to make buzz-bombs safely with the Clay-Auger in the Mudelf Brewery. Buzz-bombs can be added to their Arsenal. Mud elf weapons rot into nothingness -- so reverse engineering them becomes moot -- only a pile of shredded horned one and his original rings of teeth remain.

+2 influence Fennec for increasing morale in the face of winter's onset.



SpiralErrant : The Tyren, Successfully dislodging the dam and harvesting much of the wood, also attempt to move the Dead great dryad back to Harun'Taras. Sadly, when moved it is revealed the wood under the bark is soft, rotten and mulchy with ages of laying in the river. The mulch within the logs however (and there is much of it) smells earthy, pure, and very inviting to the Tyren for cultivation... SIX UNITS OF DRYAD MULCH can be harvested.

THE RIVER FLOWS AGAIN! +2 Influence Tyren for restoring the river-flow, which slowly drags the last of the rogue logs down and over the falls.

 

[Beckoncall]

Dogs of War:

Days after the defeat of the horned one and the return of the expeditionary force (*still in progress) A new body of soldiers approached the colony this time -- this time the Gnolls.

General Deth Glitch Everyone

Standing at the new defense-works on the far side of the river built by the dwarves, a group of gnolls arrives bearing a banner of parley. At their front -- none other than the giant gnoll champion "walks in cull", clad head to toe in his insectoid-esque plate.

"The Gnolls have discussed your victory over the horned one. We wish to parlay." Walks-in-Cull growled, in uncharacteristically well-formed common.

"Let us pass to enter your 'Talking square' or if we must stand here, bring your emissaries forth!"

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

A cold raindrop fell upon Caelis' face. He walked in the Attolian Housing District, surveying the Attolian's capabilities to make it through winter. Things looked... acceptable but a sudden event could drive the Colony to starvation. For now, the Attolian houses were ready for the cold. That is until he came across a sight that stuck out like a sore thumb, Donkey Rats. The exiles had constructed it a while back with ramshack parts and the ruins of a building. However, there had only been marginal improvements to the inn since then while the rest of the district rose from ruins. Rather than seeing it as a nuisance, Caelis saw it as an opportunity.

The Blooming Lamb had certainly taken the spotlight with their drinks and offerings of food. It was a popular tavern, but there was a need for great food still. Rather than an Inn that focused on providing drinks and adult entertainment, Caelis envisioned Donkey Rats as a place that the community and families could gather for a proper meal and as a boarding house for travellers. Gods knew how long it had been since he had a meal made by a proper chef. However, the Hatzburk had a gnome among them who was a scholar and a fair cook. The Attolians had a lot of various foods and ingredients... it just took a creative mind to figure out how to make culinary dishes and arts.

If anything, Caelis thought that it would be reasonable to make the Underground Garden into an extension. The Garden provided natural scenery and ambiance that it could reasonably turn into a lounge. It was a bit of an ambitious project, but the winter time was when rest was well deserved and people wanted to spend time indoors with friends and family. Caelis was determined to provide this sort of opportunity.

---

The recent discoveries from the shark holes were extremely concerning, but they had finally found the source. Cassandra had been getting visions whenever she walked by the Aymaran and God Rot. They had finally found the source of this odd substance. However, the question still remained... why was this being sentenced to such a punishment? What crime could he have committed or who did it cross to incur such wrath? There were many questions, but they needed some answers. However, Caelis was rather certain that the mammoth sharks in the holes would not easily give up their main food source. He hesitated in having the sirens sent at the moment. Not when the sharks were down there as well.

It was then that Cassandra proposed that the Mages Guild could help create seer stones to assist Cassandra in being able to "see" and commune with the Drowned One. But, if anything they could also try to attach the seer stones to the existing stone constructs. Thus, Cassandra could be aware of everything that the stone constructs see as well and be able to communicate through them too. Granted the delivery of the stone constructs might be difficult as the sharks might bite the rope used to drop the construct. Thus, they needed chains... perhaps an anchor line to help properly drop the stone construct in. Worst case... the Attolians would have to go shark fishing to retrieve the construct.

Caelis also came up with another idea. The recent battle had depleted the Attolian military, and many civilians were stuck at home... simply praying that things would turn out okay. Taking a page from the High Born, Caelis decided that forming a militia of those willing would be an ideal solution especially for any future emergencies. Not to mention that if the sirens took part then they would serve as the core of a marine force and perhaps be able to better protect themselves underwater as well. He only wanted volunteers, but he suspected that such training would be in rather high demand in these dangerous lands.

---

In the aftermath of the battle, Caelis saw troubling signs. The Horned One wished to subjugate them forcefully and demand their loyalty and faith. Thankfully the Horned One was killed. However, there were clear tensions in terms of religion and gods as the recent tension with the Victorians showed. Plus, the Highborn had summoned an angel, and many concerns were brought up about the Red Fountain. Then there was the Green Lady to the north. Plus, the Reinen still had some beliefs regarding to the Lord of Purity and the Church of Dracos with its devout following.

The day prior... the Red Fountain had even reached out to Caelis through the ether.

"Caelis, I contact you through the ether because you have either forgotten to defend my interests despite my assisting the colony, or you have chosen to neglect them."

"The course of what will follow is easily read even if you are not a seer. I must escape this fountain before the sanctimonious fools in the colony decide to seek my undoing. I have a modest proposal...."

"I will return the soul of Cassandra for the pittance you plan to offer -- 7 blood... but in return I need a new vessel. Find something appropriate and keep it in Attolian hands until I can find a more suitable edifice I cannot be exiled/ejected from as I predict will be attempted... However...."

"If you allow this vessel to be you, Caelis -- I will redouble your power. Possess my essence and you shall have the power of a terrible godling -- and blood magic equal to Cassandra's. My willingness to be the possessed rather than possessor stems from my need for your trust, and my confidence that no member of the colony would harm YOU to excise me. Embrace the power, and allow youself to become my vessel -- or find an alternative and be quick about it."

"What say you?"

"Defend your interests? I have been looking after and preserving our mutual relations. The Victorians and the High Born desire to see your demise. However, I have been able to convince the High Born to agree to not banish or destroy you. Rather, I seek to have you viewed as a spirit of healing where I am sure you will have much more of a following and even acceptable and favored by the High Born too. Not to mention that I had Cassandra attempt to stop the Victorians from sanctifying all the blood power that remained on the battlefield so that either she, your avatar, or you will personally gain. Regardless, unless your survival and strength is not your interests, then pray tell. What is it that you desire?

You require friends and allies now more than ever. The Victorians see you as the incarnation of evil, a literal demon, while the High Born are distasteful of blood magic. Then I hear that the High Born have recently summoned an Angel. Who that angel serves? I do not know, but to me it is but another spirit or divine being who has its own agenda. Thus, instead of this highway brigandry, return Cassandra's soul and I will promise to have you inducted into the Muurdaan Pantheon as a Local God. If she desires, she will be the first of your apostles and preach on your behalf.

If you truly are a friend of the colony, then followers will flock to you and you will soon be permanently seated. If you so desire, I plan to have a temple constructed on the site of the Horned One's death. A symbolic location where men and mortals are free to worship as they please. You can be the first local spirit that is worshiped there. You have my word, that I will continue to aid you as long as you are a true friend to the Colony even if some of the others are blinded by their beliefs and preconceived notions. What say you?"

"I need that blood to defend myself from wanton sanctification the victorians spit everywhere... and I hold Cassandra's soul as a means to empower her. If you purchase back her soul, her powers will wane somewhat -- how about we treat it as leased for 5 blood with a guaranteed option to buy at 7. You save, my avatar/prophet is not compromised, and trust is affirmed with you knowing her soul is being purposed, not stolen. In fact, it's safer now then when she had it, if you pay me the blood to defend myself."

"It's a pity you won't reconsider becoming my vessel. You see the power Cassandra wields? Why not rule with it?"

"Becoming recognized by the pantheon as a Nomarch very much appeals to me. New temples however, do not. My compromise is that I be housed in the vase of the braid mail cassandra wears."

"Are our terms in alignment now?"

"Why do I not rule with it? A Godling who rules with awe and terror is not a Lord. Nay, he is a despot who is hated and must consider all to be his enemy... they will simply wait for when his back is turned or is weak. However, a mortal man who rules with empathy is a true Lord for he knows what it is that everyone wants.

The vase? Does the spirit of a hydra not reside in it? If you take its place... then would it not be useless? Nay, I must think about this, but I will see to it that no one comes to harm you as long as you are a friend to the Colony."

It seemed like numerous religions were fighting for complete domination and belief. However, this all struck a wrong chord with Caelis. He knew his history and how numerous wars and crusades were fought due to belief. The senseless loss of life when a person's belief should be left to their own decisions and faith. Each man made his own destiny, which meant that they should choose who or what to believe if they wish to believe at all.

Thus, to promote a more humanist view on religion, Caelis ordered for an ambitious project, a temple in the Attolian style to the Pantheon of the Old World. Let each man decide his own faith and practice freely in the walls of this temple. The Pantheon always allowed for more room for future gods and even had local gods represented in various regions. This was a practice that he desired to see continued in this New World as well. What better place than to put it on top of the site where the Colony fought for such a freedom?

---

With a large boost to manpower and labor with the Hatzburk, Caelis began numerous ambitious projects. First, he ordered the project to construct cannons and black powder based weapons to continue. The Dwarves were clearly well informed and educated in the matter and would hopefully help bring the project back on track to its ambitious goals to provide security to the Colony. Besides, everyone had seen the steam based machinery that the Dwarves had. They knew their creations and machines very well and Caelis hoped to gain some insight in Dwarven engineering.

In addition, with the Mud Elves gone, the mountains to the far east were finally open. Who else would be more fitting to begin exploring the region than a dwarven cartographer? Granted, the Mud Elf Forest had yet to be completely searched and secured, but they needed to understand what difficulties surrounded them. However, with this uncertainty came opportunity. The mountains posed as a great deposit of ores and metals, which Caelis wanted to access. The Colony had been somewhat successful as they have a renewable source of iron, but the allure of rarer metals and gems was great.

Finally, with clear access to the eastern forest, the colony had a great resource to tap into. However, the lack of standardized lumber made things unwieldy. Lumber, instead of timber, would make construction easier and just provide a more convenient access to wood as it can then further be processed into planks, firewood, and other purposes. Thus, with the Dwarven aid, the Attolians sought to build a lumber mill by the river on the location of the former Reinen village.

---

In the midst of all this planning and work, the Gnolls made a surprising visit to the Dwarven outpost on the river. Upon hearing word, Caelis gathered a delegation of his 2 Sundered Kings, Cassandra, 2 Augmented Stone Constructs, 10 Halberdiers, the linguist, the Dwarven diplomat, the Dwarven tactician, 2 Heavy Dwarven Soldiers, 3 Elite Dwarven Soldiers, and 10 Dwarven Soldiers. With them, the Attolian delegation brought the Gnoll Regiment Strike Banner, and the various teeth of the Horned One which the Victorians and Attolians had split. Caelis bore with him the amulet and the star tear. He would no longer travel without these upon him.

He planned to meet the delegation at the field as he did not want to allow the gnolls to freely walk through the Colony and see the progress that they had made and potentially any weaknesses or opportunities. They were an unfriendly neighbor during the war with their mutual enemy... without the Horned One. Gods knew what Walks-in-Cull wanted. Upon arrival at the location, Caelis greeted the large armored gnoll and said "Hail neighbors. I have heard word that you desire to speak now that the Mud Elves are gone. I hope that this means that you bear words of friendship and cooperation among our people who have also suffered due to the Horned One, but who have also triumphed over that foul being." He then looked behind him and intentionally took a glimpse of the teeth taken from the Horned One that they had brought. It was a poignant action. After all, the Colony had succeeded when the gnolls had failed.

---

Summary:

1. Making improvements to Donkey Rats and transforming it
1 Gnome (Scholar/Cook), 10 Sirens, 30 Unskilled Workers, 10 Skilled Workers

2. Attempt to create seer stones to communicate with the Drowning One with help from the Mages Guild
Cassandra, Nicholas

3. Militia Training to Attolian Volunteers
Caelis, 2 Sundered Kings, Dwarven Tactician, 3 Elite Dwarven Soldiers, 2 Heavy Armored Dwarves, 10 Halberdiers

4. Building an Attolian Temple dedicated to the Pantheon on the site of the Horned One's Death
Architect, 10 Skilled Dwarven Workers, 10 Skilled Workers, 20 Unskilled Workers, 10 Sirens, 2 Augmented Stone Constructs, 3 Units of Marble, 1 Wealth

5. Continued work on the Cannon/Firearm project
Engineer, 2 Gnomes (Crafters), 2 V Skilled Dwarves (Engineer/Crafter), 10 Skilled Dwarven Workers, 10 Skilled Workers

6. Exploration and Mapping of the Mud Elf Half of the Forest (and beyond if possible. A dwarven cartographer for the mountains would be awesome)
Falconer, Geologist, V Skilled Dwarf (Cartographer), Hunting Bloodhound, 10 Dwarven Soldiers

7. Construction of a Lumber Mill on the River
10 Sirens, 20 Skilled Dwarven Workers, 2 Augmented Stone Constructs, 20 Unskilled Laborers

8. Caelis and several soldiers and delegates sally out to meet with the Gnolls

 

[Beckoncall]

The Fallen Orm: SpiralErrant

Anuc and Weome, when triage and healing at the healers guild died down, attended to the "sleeping chief" constantly. The tender hand of Anuc was almost enough to raise Orm to consciousness, he couldn't tell her he knew she was there, but he perceived her. The scarring to his jaw and face was substantial, and many teeth of his lower jaw had to be replaced with bull-iron, giving him a strange look of brushed steel when he clenched his teeth in bed. Orm felt Anuc's presence... her affection. Typical that when he could stand, the coldness he imprisoned in his heart prevented him from ever saying the right thing. In his coma, he became aware of the depth of Anuc's unspoken feelings... and they moved him... but he could not move his body.

He dreamt he was a sleeping dragon, admiring her from beneath dark waters, a dream he had had before. He remembered how when they were both yearlings, he found comfort in her arms. But the red rage and the endless tutiledge of the circles kept him from such terrestrial pleasures... they had stolen some affection, even passion... but the years cooled it. Anuc never found a mate either. Why?



Grinding his new metal teeth, Orm resolved to awake soon. He liked dreaming of anuc... it seemed all else he could dream of was the contact of that elbow-spike with his jaw... the last thing he saw before his sleep.

Orm was not used to being too weak to muster his anger... the feelings it left him with made him feel strange.

 

[Beckoncall]

SpiralErrant Spacekitty

Fish, not fowl, but foul nonetheless.

With the arrival of fennec forces supporting the guards of Harun'Taras that watched the livestock (and the growing group of posturing fish men seemed to be enflamed rather than deterred by the arrival of a concerted resistance.

The fistmen were comfortable in the falling cold rains and sleet -- while the colonial forces watched with makeshift cover and growing misery.

They didn't want there to be a raid on the livestock -- but if something didn't change... it was coming. Something had to be done.

 

[Beckoncall]

The song of the Ships arrival:



Three ships pulled in line through the dreaded storms that battered the new world convoy all the way up to the barrier. Sheeting rain and waves of salt-water dashed the decks, almost hiding the great golden curtain that was rightly named "the barrier" -- from this distance, the new arrivals made emergency corrections for a place on their nautical maps as "the breach" -- a weak spot in the barrier where ships could pass through without destructive energies being unleashed on them. Marked by a lighthouse, maneuvers were urgent, but safe.

Supplies had been sufficient for the voyage, even plentiful -- each ship still had a fair amount of initial construction materials and food to settle in with. Tacking towards and through the barrier -- all on deck were moved or effected in some way as they passed through the golden curtain and into the new world -- from the sea it looked like an endless cliff 15 to 20 stories high with only one place nearby suitable for landing... The "sandslope" -- a beach surrounded by shark-infested waters, deep blue holes into the deep just off of shore shined like dark sapphires in the clear blue of the shalows.

As they approached, the rain on the opposite side of the barrier was visibly lighter -- The great sea-wall of the colony opened up to the new settler ships -- gruff men and huge brutish crocadiles seemed to be tirelessly pulling a fishing bounty of sharks from the shallow seas, some pausing to wave or run to prepare to receive the new arrivals.

The great beach seemed to have several ships run aground -- it seems some previous factions decided to strip their ships for additional materials, or even to create settlement buildings on the beach with their beached craft.

The first faction to greet the new arrivals would proclaim themselves "The exiles of Dracos" -- they pointed to the sandslope that climbed the 15 story rise to the mainland and noted "Temple of Dracos welcomes all, the Dragon watches over these lands" -- profoundly welcoming the exiles of the beach seemed old hats at putting down their duties of fishing and offered to unload the cargoes of the new arrivals and pointed them towards a massive cable-lift that could carry all of their crates to the top of the cliff rather than an abysmal job of carrying them by hand.

From the base of the cliffs a great lighthouse beckoned them since their crossing the barrier but seemingly swung it's faintly reddish light just as much inland as it did out to sea. The exiles were quick to press crude maps into the hands of the new arrivals (*thumbnail below) and a few old-hats with greeting outsiders offered those so inclined to rest before climbing inland at the beached ship-turned longhouse the exiles seemed to slowly see buried by the wind-blow sands. They had gruff manners, but VERY good wine -- shockingly so -- they drank the wine like beer, when it would be savored by an elven palatte.

The Aymaran fisherman gave greetings of grasping a claw at the new foreigners in some mockery of a wave, and said their apparent hello of "Not Fud" -- apparently it was important to impart -- scarily perhaps more to them than to the greeted, that they had no intention to devour them.

Each of the new factions disenbarked in their own turn and sought to explore the inland -- the map seemed to show the "sandslope" looked like an ancient footprint had crushed the cliff and made this beach as an unnatural landform -- but what being could make a footprint so large? Above the sandslope was the relative slum of the "depression" -- where the lower class seemed to live in the "toes and palm" of the footprint. Above the Footprint of sandslope was an area known as "The Platz" -- or Marketplace -- a ruined city seemed to stretch endlessly to the west... with this area of ruin cleared by the colony. All manner of food was for sale in the market along with other goods -- with signs "stock up for winter" in dire and inviting lettering. The Platz was a square -- the southwest seemed to be a fortified enclosure -- the "high elf quarter", where the newcomers were watched from cautiously. The Southeast was a quarter dominated by "The Garrison Cathedral of St. Victoria, which was crowned by their splendid lighthouse. In the Northeast a growing striving beginning of a metropolis was rising out of the ruins, cranes clearing ruins of rocks and dropping them as houses in new places... the Attolian housing district. The Platz was also home for a low-brow Inn and bar known as "Donkey Rats!" -- their food offerings all seemed to consist of attempts to make rat and shark nuanced meals with a variety of perfumed spices.... but they did still have some of that exquisite wine on offer and a wide selection of Fennecian strong alcoholic and slightly hallicinagening "dream sodas" -- along with fine domestic barley and wheat attolian beers.

The Aymarans apparently lived in the sewers below the platz, and there were entrances to the sewer almost everyhere. some lead to beautiful attolian subterranean greenhouses which doubled as parks -- growing manners of crops and strange "bramble-gems" -- lovely crystals that grew from black twisted thorn brambles.

In places Sirens, wearing attolian colors sang calming and persuasive greetings -- it was almost enough to forget that it seemed the colony was little more than some bandages on a ruin. In the Market a great milieu of different races could be seen and met with -- The Tyren Minotaurs - far from prejudice of minotaurs in the old world which were generally mercenaries and raiders, these Tyren seemed like gentle nomadic folk eager to hawk their wares and see if the new arrivals had any needful things. A tiny rambunctious kobold minority skittered about running construction materials in the northeast, and besides the sirens the occasional wood elf was seen at market, haggling with ratmen, brokering deals with diminutive folk-folk all dressed to reflect some level of status from humble to honored.

To wit, the new arrivals were overwhelmed with all the new world seemed to show -- blinded by the volume of details. To the east a good distance were three of the biggest trees that could be imagined -- hundreds of feet high each, their trunks as wide as great buildings -- and an even vaster but normal sized wood to the east beyond a river. To the North Farms sprouted up once the ruins thinned to grassland, and beyond that some kind of capitol building and an area everyone called "Learners Square" -- supposedly the Tyren and Wood elves lived father beyond the hills in the north, and while fennec foxmen could be seen getting their paws in everyone's business it was not at all apparent where the hell they were coming from.

The new arrivals would land and seek out in their own manner, and depending on what they sought to examine, would get leads from there. They would need to find their own places to settle and it might not be too early to begin to make friends as well.

Two things were particularly strange of note -- anyone in the marketplace was quick to inform that the ruins to the west was FULL of undead, and that to travel there was dangerous without a guide... some districts had been cleared of the restless dead, but apparently the ancient culture of the new world -- the mage kingdoms -- had fallen in some catastrophe unknown behind the barrier when it was stronger. Lastly, there was plenty of talk at market about "Snake men(?!)" poised threateningly in the north scheming on Tyren herds, but the cold weather had apparently done poorly for the reptiles, who had skulked back to some swamp far in the Northwest. Over the rolling hills and farms to the north was a wall of shale-stone the locals called "shearcliffs" and to the east a riverbed with a thin stream trickling through it to the cliffs edge to a small waterfall. There were numerous warnings "beware of gnolls in the woods!" but nothing aptly articulated -- like an old wives tale.

Stranger still a clockwork soldier -- an automaton seemed to be idling and stomping about outside of an attolian workshop, and a couple of strange, demon-red crystalline creatures -- supposedly called "Zebani" had begun to wander the market as well, seemingly with the same unfamiliarity as the new arrivals... some kind of constructs they were, though they looked to the uninitiated like demons, with their claws, angular features, glowing yellow eyes, and almost heart-shaped heads terminating at the top with what could not be determined as horns or ears.

Silver flowed in the marketplace. Every eye was overstimulated... perhaps locals would greet them more formally... but the newcomers had arrived. Ships docked at behind the sea-wall and safe from the elements, arrangements to have their supplied delivered up to the mainland atop the cliffs.

New Players! : Feel free to explore and ask questions about where to camp/settle -- as that is your first needful thing to do unless you want your faction to sleep in the ship they've been for better or worse confined to for the months long voyage. Use the map to send sentries to explore areas for you and get more information -- the tavern could also be a great source of information and questions answered.

It seemed the Platz was dotted also with guildhouses -- but of what trades or groups they would need to be examined.

Old Players! : Feel free to greet or be aloof to the new arrivals.


IT'S GAME ON! New players free to post their individual arrival and landing narratives and I'll react to them. Once you have a place for your faction to camp you can start making orders on what to accomplish and get your hands into and on...

...The air is crisp. Winter will soon be here.

UPDATE: Reptile aggression on Tyren herds suddenly stops when the cold weather makes the cold-blooded sluggish and tired. Aymaran (Croc-men) begin to retreat underground for warmth in the days to come for the same reason.


GOOD LUCK! WINTER IS HERE! SEASON THREE HAS BEGUN! - BECK

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Last Post:

A cold raindrop fell upon Caelis' face. He walked in the Attolian Housing District, surveying the Attolian's capabilities to make it through winter. Things looked... acceptable but a sudden event could drive the Colony to starvation. For now, the Attolian houses were ready for the cold. That is until he came across a sight that stuck out like a sore thumb, Donkey Rats. The exiles had constructed it a while back with ramshack parts and the ruins of a building. However, there had only been marginal improvements to the inn since then while the rest of the district rose from ruins. Rather than seeing it as a nuisance, Caelis saw it as an opportunity.

The Blooming Lamb had certainly taken the spotlight with their drinks and offerings of food. It was a popular tavern, but there was a need for great food still. Rather than an Inn that focused on providing drinks and adult entertainment, Caelis envisioned Donkey Rats as a place that the community and families could gather for a proper meal and as a boarding house for travellers. Gods knew how long it had been since he had a meal made by a proper chef. However, the Hatzburk had a gnome among them who was a scholar and a fair cook. The Attolians had a lot of various foods and ingredients... it just took a creative mind to figure out how to make culinary dishes and arts.

If anything, Caelis thought that it would be reasonable to make the Underground Garden into an extension. The Garden provided natural scenery and ambiance that it could reasonably turn into a lounge. It was a bit of an ambitious project, but the winter time was when rest was well deserved and people wanted to spend time indoors with friends and family. Caelis was determined to provide this sort of opportunity.

---

The recent discoveries from the shark holes were extremely concerning, but they had finally found the source. Cassandra had been getting visions whenever she walked by the Aymaran and God Rot. They had finally found the source of this odd substance. However, the question still remained... why was this being sentenced to such a punishment? What crime could he have committed or who did it cross to incur such wrath? There were many questions, but they needed some answers. However, Caelis was rather certain that the mammoth sharks in the holes would not easily give up their main food source. He hesitated in having the sirens sent at the moment. Not when the sharks were down there as well.

It was then that Cassandra proposed that the Mages Guild could help create seer stones to assist Cassandra in being able to "see" and commune with the Drowned One. But, if anything they could also try to attach the seer stones to the existing stone constructs. Thus, Cassandra could be aware of everything that the stone constructs see as well and be able to communicate through them too. Granted the delivery of the stone constructs might be difficult as the sharks might bite the rope used to drop the construct. Thus, they needed chains... perhaps an anchor line to help properly drop the stone construct in. Worst case... the Attolians would have to go shark fishing to retrieve the construct.

Caelis also came up with another idea. The recent battle had depleted the Attolian military, and many civilians were stuck at home... simply praying that things would turn out okay. Taking a page from the High Born, Caelis decided that forming a militia of those willing would be an ideal solution especially for any future emergencies. Not to mention that if the sirens took part then they would serve as the core of a marine force and perhaps be able to better protect themselves underwater as well. He only wanted volunteers, but he suspected that such training would be in rather high demand in these dangerous lands.

---

In the aftermath of the battle, Caelis saw troubling signs. The Horned One wished to subjugate them forcefully and demand their loyalty and faith. Thankfully the Horned One was killed. However, there were clear tensions in terms of religion and gods as the recent tension with the Victorians showed. Plus, the Highborn had summoned an angel, and many concerns were brought up about the Red Fountain. Then there was the Green Lady to the north. Plus, the Reinen still had some beliefs regarding to the Lord of Purity and the Church of Dracos with its devout following.

The day prior... the Red Fountain had even reached out to Caelis through the ether.

"Caelis, I contact you through the ether because you have either forgotten to defend my interests despite my assisting the colony, or you have chosen to neglect them."

"The course of what will follow is easily read even if you are not a seer. I must escape this fountain before the sanctimonious fools in the colony decide to seek my undoing. I have a modest proposal...."

"I will return the soul of Cassandra for the pittance you plan to offer -- 7 blood... but in return I need a new vessel. Find something appropriate and keep it in Attolian hands until I can find a more suitable edifice I cannot be exiled/ejected from as I predict will be attempted... However...."

"If you allow this vessel to be you, Caelis -- I will redouble your power. Possess my essence and you shall have the power of a terrible godling -- and blood magic equal to Cassandra's. My willingness to be the possessed rather than possessor stems from my need for your trust, and my confidence that no member of the colony would harm YOU to excise me. Embrace the power, and allow youself to become my vessel -- or find an alternative and be quick about it."

"What say you?"

"Defend your interests? I have been looking after and preserving our mutual relations. The Victorians and the High Born desire to see your demise. However, I have been able to convince the High Born to agree to not banish or destroy you. Rather, I seek to have you viewed as a spirit of healing where I am sure you will have much more of a following and even acceptable and favored by the High Born too. Not to mention that I had Cassandra attempt to stop the Victorians from sanctifying all the blood power that remained on the battlefield so that either she, your avatar, or you will personally gain. Regardless, unless your survival and strength is not your interests, then pray tell. What is it that you desire?

You require friends and allies now more than ever. The Victorians see you as the incarnation of evil, a literal demon, while the High Born are distasteful of blood magic. Then I hear that the High Born have recently summoned an Angel. Who that angel serves? I do not know, but to me it is but another spirit or divine being who has its own agenda. Thus, instead of this highway brigandry, return Cassandra's soul and I will promise to have you inducted into the Muurdaan Pantheon as a Local God. If she desires, she will be the first of your apostles and preach on your behalf.

If you truly are a friend of the colony, then followers will flock to you and you will soon be permanently seated. If you so desire, I plan to have a temple constructed on the site of the Horned One's death. A symbolic location where men and mortals are free to worship as they please. You can be the first local spirit that is worshiped there. You have my word, that I will continue to aid you as long as you are a true friend to the Colony even if some of the others are blinded by their beliefs and preconceived notions. What say you?"

"I need that blood to defend myself from wanton sanctification the victorians spit everywhere... and I hold Cassandra's soul as a means to empower her. If you purchase back her soul, her powers will wane somewhat -- how about we treat it as leased for 5 blood with a guaranteed option to buy at 7. You save, my avatar/prophet is not compromised, and trust is affirmed with you knowing her soul is being purposed, not stolen. In fact, it's safer now then when she had it, if you pay me the blood to defend myself."

"It's a pity you won't reconsider becoming my vessel. You see the power Cassandra wields? Why not rule with it?"

"Becoming recognized by the pantheon as a Nomarch very much appeals to me. New temples however, do not. My compromise is that I be housed in the vase of the braid mail cassandra wears."

"Are our terms in alignment now?"

"Why do I not rule with it? A Godling who rules with awe and terror is not a Lord. Nay, he is a despot who is hated and must consider all to be his enemy... they will simply wait for when his back is turned or is weak. However, a mortal man who rules with empathy is a true Lord for he knows what it is that everyone wants.

The vase? Does the spirit of a hydra not reside in it? If you take its place... then would it not be useless? Nay, I must think about this, but I will see to it that no one comes to harm you as long as you are a friend to the Colony."

It seemed like numerous religions were fighting for complete domination and belief. However, this all struck a wrong chord with Caelis. He knew his history and how numerous wars and crusades were fought due to belief. The senseless loss of life when a person's belief should be left to their own decisions and faith. Each man made his own destiny, which meant that they should choose who or what to believe if they wish to believe at all.

Thus, to promote a more humanist view on religion, Caelis ordered for an ambitious project, a temple in the Attolian style to the Pantheon of the Old World. Let each man decide his own faith and practice freely in the walls of this temple. The Pantheon always allowed for more room for future gods and even had local gods represented in various regions. This was a practice that he desired to see continued in this New World as well. What better place than to put it on top of the site where the Colony fought for such a freedom?

---

With a large boost to manpower and labor with the Hatzburk, Caelis began numerous ambitious projects. First, he ordered the project to construct cannons and black powder based weapons to continue. The Dwarves were clearly well informed and educated in the matter and would hopefully help bring the project back on track to its ambitious goals to provide security to the Colony. Besides, everyone had seen the steam based machinery that the Dwarves had. They knew their creations and machines very well and Caelis hoped to gain some insight in Dwarven engineering.

In addition, with the Mud Elves gone, the mountains to the far east were finally open. Who else would be more fitting to begin exploring the region than a dwarven cartographer? Granted, the Mud Elf Forest had yet to be completely searched and secured, but they needed to understand what difficulties surrounded them. However, with this uncertainty came opportunity. The mountains posed as a great deposit of ores and metals, which Caelis wanted to access. The Colony had been somewhat successful as they have a renewable source of iron, but the allure of rarer metals and gems was great.

Finally, with clear access to the eastern forest, the colony had a great resource to tap into. However, the lack of standardized lumber made things unwieldy. Lumber, instead of timber, would make construction easier and just provide a more convenient access to wood as it can then further be processed into planks, firewood, and other purposes. Thus, with the Dwarven aid, the Attolians sought to build a lumber mill by the river on the location of the former Reinen village.

---

In the midst of all this planning and work, the Gnolls made a surprising visit to the Dwarven outpost on the river. Upon hearing word, Caelis gathered a delegation of his 2 Sundered Kings, Cassandra, 2 Augmented Stone Constructs, 10 Halberdiers, the linguist, the Dwarven diplomat, the Dwarven tactician, 2 Heavy Dwarven Soldiers, 3 Elite Dwarven Soldiers, and 10 Dwarven Soldiers. With them, the Attolian delegation brought the Gnoll Regiment Strike Banner, and the various teeth of the Horned One which the Victorians and Attolians had split. Caelis bore with him the amulet and the star tear. He would no longer travel without these upon him.

He planned to meet the delegation at the field as he did not want to allow the gnolls to freely walk through the Colony and see the progress that they had made and potentially any weaknesses or opportunities. They were an unfriendly neighbor during the war with their mutual enemy... without the Horned One. Gods knew what Walks-in-Cull wanted. Upon arrival at the location, Caelis greeted the large armored gnoll and said "Hail neighbors. I have heard word that you desire to speak now that the Mud Elves are gone. I hope that this means that you bear words of friendship and cooperation among our people who have also suffered due to the Horned One, but who have also triumphed over that foul being." He then looked behind him and intentionally took a glimpse of the teeth taken from the Horned One that they had brought. It was a poignant action. After all, the Colony had succeeded when the gnolls had failed.

---

Summary:

1. Making improvements to Donkey Rats and transforming it
1 Gnome (Scholar/Cook), 10 Sirens, 30 Unskilled Workers, 10 Skilled Workers

2. Attempt to create seer stones to communicate with the Drowning One with help from the Mages Guild
Cassandra, Nicholas

3. Militia Training to Attolian Volunteers
Caelis, 2 Sundered Kings, Dwarven Tactician, 3 Elite Dwarven Soldiers, 2 Heavy Armored Dwarves, 10 Halberdiers

4. Building an Attolian Temple dedicated to the Pantheon on the site of the Horned One's Death
Architect, 10 Skilled Dwarven Workers, 10 Skilled Workers, 20 Unskilled Workers, 10 Sirens, 2 Augmented Stone Constructs, 3 Units of Marble, 1 Wealth

5. Continued work on the Cannon/Firearm project
Engineer, 2 Gnomes (Crafters), 2 V Skilled Dwarves (Engineer/Crafter), 10 Skilled Dwarven Workers, 10 Skilled Workers

6. Exploration and Mapping of the Mud Elf Half of the Forest (and beyond if possible. A dwarven cartographer for the mountains would be awesome)
Falconer, Geologist, V Skilled Dwarf (Cartographer), Hunting Bloodhound, 10 Dwarven Soldiers

7. Construction of a Lumber Mill on the River
10 Sirens, 20 Skilled Dwarven Workers, 2 Augmented Stone Constructs, 20 Unskilled Laborers

8. Caelis and several soldiers and delegates sally out to meet with the Gnolls

New Post:

The cold winter air penetrated Caelis' lungs. His breath could be seen. The winter frost was here and who knew how devastating the winter would be. Still, the Attolians did their best to prepare. They had spent a month trying to build a lumber mill to help supply the colony with firewood and more construction material. Plus, Caelis planned to send the Hatzburks out to purchase supplies for the Colony soon. Thus, food wasn't as much of a concern. That is until he heard the clamor. "New Colonists!" There went Caelis' heart as it dropped with the meager buffer of food that he had worked so hard to store. These new Colonists likely had limited food stores with them. Caelis thought it was prudent to meet with these new Colonists and provide them with information. This winter might not be as easy as he had hoped, but these new settlers needed new homes and information. Thus, Caelis set off to meet them at the mouth of the Platz.

Summary:
Caelis sets off to meet the new Colonists and provide them with information

(Feel free to PM me if you want to make a collab post!)

 

[Bone2pick]

The mighty carrack flew a single pitiful sail. The barrier storms had lived up to their dreaded reputation and took the rest when it hammered them. The party acquired the trade ship at the Port of Falonria, the closest hub west of Qririan. It had been an ugly bit of business but such things weren't uncommon for the Qrirish.

The craft's previous owners—a trio of Falonrian shipbuilding brothers—were recognized as talented, and at times greedy, craftsmen. They were uncertain why a single Qrirish party would need off the mainland in such a hurry, but they were certain they could cash in on their buyer's desperation. The brothers priced the carrack just shy of a king's fortune; and as one can imagine, this infuriated the Gewgaws.

The two sides haggled for hours which eventually led the brothers to a rough figure of the present wealth of the party. And that is precisely where the price was finally set. With the brothers unwilling to budge the Gewgaws were left with no other choice, they parted with nearly every piece of gold and silver they had escaped with.

Ollerrol, out of patience and time, loaded her people and their belongings onto their new ship and promised the port master they would sail out at next dawn. But the party never saw another sunrise in Falonria. That night, after the warm coastal air chilled, the townsfolk went to bed and the Gewgaws went to work. Grinning carnals crawled and tumbled onto every capable ship that wasn't theirs and sabotaged their masts and sails. Teams of masked Black Parade stalked the port and captured every patrolling watchman that crossed their path. And the Deputy himself, along with hyena lashers and soldiers, ambushed the offending brothers in their homes. It didn't take many hyena bites before the trio gave up every coin they took off the party. But Kraucac didn't hurry to call off his beasts.

Once the treasure was secured the Gewgaws set sail under the moonlight on beautiful boat they hadn't paid a penny for. They were already on the run, another enemy across the world wouldn't matter. Kraucac considered the story of the appropriated ship as his black leather boots strode down the gangplank and onto the colony's pier. There is a lesson there, he thought. Never take advantage of a someone you can't defend against.

She was waiting for him. Surrounded by a coterie of servants and guards Party Master Ollerrol fanned herself lazily and then motioned for her Deputy to approach. When he did so Kraucac spied Xalla, Ollerrol's favored protector, slither out from his gang of carnals to crouch beside his master.

"How many did we lose?" She asked.

"Seven. Three to the storms, two from fevers, and two were fed to the hyenas for stealing." As usual he snapped the end of his sentences like bow strings. "Considering the circumstances we could have fared worse."

Ollerrol nodded and walked closer to her Deputy, her death jester crawling beside her every step.
Kraucac's eyes shifted behind his ever-smiling mask to peer over the Party Master's sequined shoulder. He took the moment to size-up the harbor facing sections of the colony.

"I'll take a crew inside and try and find a suitable homesite."

"We'll introduce ourselves first," she corrected. His eyes flicked back to her, and despite the expression of his mask, they revealed he was less than pleased.

"The people here are undoubtedly dull Ollerrol," he grumbled.

"Of course they will be, but first impressions are important. I remembering hearing you say something similar before."

"I uttered that tired cliche? If it was after a pipe you can't hold me to it." Rather than laugh the perfectly painted lips underneath her mask curled into a frown.

"Will you be accompanying me or not?"

A sigh whispered through his mouth hole and Kraucac rested his hand on the jeweled pommel of the whip-sword at his hip.

"I might as well get it over with. How do I look?"

She took a step back to better judge. His midnight blue suit, bulged at the torso from the armored leather vest underneath, was wrinkled and in need of a wash. The same applied to the golden cape cascading over his shoulders but at least it paired nicely with the brushed gold trimmings of his weapon. After spying water spots staining the ruby adorning his cape clasp, Ollerrol waltzed forward and thumbed the jewel clean. Afterwards she lovingly stroked the ceramic cheek of her Deputy's faceplate.

"Dashing as ever darling," she purred.

Spoiler: orders

• Attempt to have a formal meet and greet with significant members (faction leaders or nobles) of the colony. The Party Master and her Deputy will lead the Gewgaw side of the meetings and they will be escorted by the Black Parade, carnals, and commoner servants.
>> Ollerrol, Kraucac, 10 black parade, 4 carnals, and 6 commoners

• Search for a suitable Gewgaw homesite with two teams. The party is willing to buy, trade, or even go into debt for the right location. Note: after looking over the map the party will be particularly interested in the ancient theater district.
>> 1 invited, 4 black parade, 1 hyena lasher, and 5 commoners in each team

• Attempt to sell labor. One of the invited will see if there is a market for peasant & commoner labor, whether it be construction, harvesting, planting, trapping, or another reasonable form of simple labor, the Gewgaws have temporary manpower for sale or trade.
>> 1 invited (to broker the contract), 15 commoners, 50 peasants

 

[Comrade in the Shade]

al-Turbansk

The Sandslope:

The shifting waves of the deep ocean had not been kind to the elderly sheik. Atiq Affan al-Turbansk was relieved to be landing. He watched from the bow of his vessel with delight as the Sandslope grew closer and closer. Clutching the railing, he stood and smoked the last of the tobacco from his long pipe. He had rationed just enough for this last day. Looking at the wide world he was about to entire with the remnants of his family, the sheik was reminded of how little he had become in this big world. The large junk they rode into exile contained as much of his sheikdom as could fit while still allowing the ship to float. Every nook and cranny had been utilized to save as many of his House as possible.

The ship slowed and then lurched to a halt as the keel hit land beneath the shallows. "We have arrived, grandfather," Asma approached the sheik. Putting a hand on his shoulder she smiled, "we will make a new life for ourselves here. I am excited about the adventure!"

The old man made a gruff sign but then cracked a large, toothy smile. "My dear, I knew you would be looking forward to this trip. Youth affords you excitement. Not in my wildest dreams did I ever suspect I would have to pitch a tent again under the stars and not be on a hunt." He paused. His facial expression was faintly twisted with sorrow and he stroked his beard momentarily overwhelmed with fond memories home. Coming back to his granddaughter he cleared his throat, "but having you, my dear, at my side makes it all easier. Here. Help your grandfather to the beach."

Soon the al-Turbansk had all disembarked and their ship was secured on the beach. "You men," barked Fatima pointing with her war hammer to a group of soldiers, "protect the boat and the cargo. We will return once we have found suitable housing and arranged for safe travel." She slung her weapon over her shoulder picking through the crowd that had come off the boat. "Asma! To me."

"Turn around, mother," her daughter's voice came from behind her. Fatima turned and found her family had already gathered. Joreus chuckled at his wife. "We will enter the colony in teams," he said and handed Fatima the map he was just given. "Meanwhile," the elf prince looked coldly at the large junk that had bore them across the ocean, "I think we can dismantle that darn boat for parts. We are not likely to need it again."

The Platz:

After giving sufficient instruction to the Journeymen and the party left for the Platz with the remaining members of their faction. When they arrived in the bustling marketplace they became very aware of their status as newcomers. Atiq approached a local vendor selling some sort of local fruit. They were small and a deep shade of red. "I'll take a small basket, please." The old man grinned at the seller. As in any market, making a purchase loosened the lips of a merchant and made for an easy ice breaker. After first discovering how to eat the pitted fruit - apparently called "cherries" - Atiq inquired about numerous things. His family did the same and soon they heard of different quarters of the city already on their map: the A-t-t-o-l-i-a-n district, where a proud family had made the most of their new life in the colony. From the few conversations he had, Atiq gathered they were successful in establishing themselves in this new place - something he hoped very much to do. So the sheik headed north with his guards.

There was a healer's guild and some place north locals referred to as Learner's Square. These peeked the interested of Asma and Mirnil respectively. They set out at once to inquire more than could be gather from small talk with street merchants. Fatima was anxious to get her hands dirty with soot and beat metal again. She and a group of journeymen set out to scourer the market place for day labor to bring in some extra coin and access the market for potential enterprises of their own. Joreus went east after spotting the three, large trees in the distance and wishing desperately to get out of the city. He brought his select rangers with him to scout out land that might be purchased and utilized in some way.

Lastly, Sanyir sat down at a tavern he found, the Donkey Rat. He ordered a stiff drink and paid particular attention to fox-like creatures scampering around the market.

Spoiler: Orders

4 guards of the Sheik's Own and 8 elvish rangers protect the ship.

3 Journeymen (skilled workers) each with teams of 4 Followers (Unskilled Workers, 12 in total) scrap the large junk for parts separating the metal (nails, etc.), wood, rope, and sails.

Fatima (blacksmith) and 17 Journeymen each with teams of 4 Followers (68 in total) head to the Platz to find work as day laborers and make contacts in the community. They are instructed to keep an eye out for business opportunities (i.e. what items are in high demand but supplies are not enough to meet that demand). Fatima is accompanied by 2 elvish rangers.

Sheik Atiq travels to the Attolian Housing District with 6 guards of the Sheik's Own seeking an audience with the Attolian leader. Heyitsjiwon

Asma heads to the healer's guild to establish contacts and find work. She travels with 2 elvish rangers.

Mirnil heads to Learners Square to establish contacts and assess the status of scholarly work in the colony. She travels with 2 elvish rangers.

Sanyir orders a hard drink at the Donkey Rat.

Joreus leads a team of 6 elvish rangers immediately east of the Platz in search of suitable land.

 

[Shireling]

The Stoutmen
​

James Kearney was leaned over his desk in his quarters, asleep. The sound of rigging and creaking boards was strangely calming and far away he could hear the call of the captain on deck: "heave ho!" as he directed the oarsmen in their tasks while the ship righted itself and made ready for land.

The Anathema was a war galley perhaps thirty years old and reaching the end of her useful lifespan. The cannons had been replaced with extra oars, and the armory wherein most of the powder and shot would have been stored was instead a storehouse for foodstuffs and building materials.

The Stouts had had a hard go of it since leaving the Port of Merry in the Home Country. With the Stout homeland being on the other side of the continent of Muurdaan they had to sail around, constantly being stopped and searched by Imperial customs officials. When they finally made open water, a hurricane (which had threatened to capsize their vessel) had blown them far off course and into equatorial waters where they were beaten by the sun and the still air of the doldrums had not the power to fill their sails. If they had traveled aboard a purely sail-powered vessel they might have been surely lost, but a great many oarsmen steered the ship back on course and they managed to catch up with the other two vessels leaving for the Lost Continent three weeks before landfall.

In all that time, Kearney and the rest of the clergy that had pledged themselves to the journey, were occupied in keeping the morale onboard high. Work never bothered a Stout, it was the lack of work that most bothered them. Men would habitually fight over who would man the oars next, anything to escape from the boredom of sitting belowdecks which were cramped and often the air was still with sickness and consumption. By a miracle of the hidden Godhead, none had perished on the trip over due primarily to the skill of the healers in dealing with infectious disease and the quarantining of the ill. Many Stouts were, however, beginning to become weak of scurvy and the madness of the sea was starting to gnaw at them.

A knock came at the door and Kearney's eyes shot open. The knocking came again, this time more intense.

"For goodness sake, don't break the hinges. Come in!"

In the doorway emerged a young Stout boy of about twelve. "Father Kearney, they says we've spotted the coast and are comin' in to land."

Kearney stood and wiped sleep from his eyes before adjusting his waistcoat. "Thank you, Percy. Run belowdecks and tell all to stay put. Wouldn't want a stampede to capsize our deliverer here." He tapped the door frame affectionately. "Go on, Percy." He chided, pressing him onward and leaving out the door. When he reached the quarterdeck, the captain pressed a spyglass into his hand. "Take a look yourself, preacher."

Looking through the spyglass, he beheld fishermen drawing sharks out of the shallows with nets. Beyond that, he could see the outlines of what he thought to be ruins, and mountains shrouded in clouds way off in the distance before all these things were obscured by proximity to the cliff face.

Landfall
​

Upon making landfall, the Stouts disembarked roughly half of their party in small boats, not suffering their galley to run aground. Most of those were left at the shore to facilitate the moving of supplies onto the shore as long as daylight would allow them, with the Stouts politely declining the help of these 'exiles of Dracos' save for the use of the cargo crane. With the vast majority of the Stouts being instructed to guard the ship and their stockpiles on land as they were offloaded, Father Kearney and Captain Gardver of the Guard as well as a Stout boy of about fifteen, Edward Kaelen, went alongside the others from the shore and through the Platz. At the end of their journey, overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the colony, the two men stopped into "Donkey Rats!" for a beer and to see if they could overhear any helpful bits of gossip. They sent Edward away back to the shore to instruct the Stouts there to camp for the night by their gear, that they would be returning shortly, and that on the morrow they intended to march towards the Three Great Trees to the river to set up a more permanent settlement.

Kearney, who was ten years Gardver's junior, commented on the beer.

"It's no Stoutbrew, but it will do."

"Aye," Gardver replied, "it's strange, these folk. Minotaurs and fox folk and all other sorts living together in this contemptible slum."

"Now my dear Captain," said Kearney flatly, "these people, for better or worse, are our brothers. Always remember that. Unless, of course, you would like to go back to Muurdaan and face the jackboot or the gallows."

Gardver grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. Kearney, for his part, was deep in thought. Much had to be sorted out, and with the winter coming no planting could be done. It would be a hard next few months that would make or break this venture that could be the saving hope of their people.

 

[Beckoncall]

"First Impressions" :

Bone2pick :

The landing party is met by a high elf dignitary, the great bard Lindar of the "Highborn Elves", and his small delegation... apparently they had the pleasure of enjoying some Qrirain Masquerades centuries ago, which is not that long a time for them -- apparently in your history, after the bifurcation of high elves and dark elves (also known as witch elves) Qrirain Masquerades (and other parties of neutral but extraordinary style) were some of the only places high elves and dark elves could meet anonymously to (ahem) carry on friendships ... as well as discuss larger sphere politics. The allowance for bloody intrigue was especially valued by dark elves in general and high elf spies in particular.

The high elves address you as "orb weavers" -- not knowing high elven to the grandest extend as an ancient elf, but knowing enough to carry on a conversation in high society, you grasp the double meaning -- the common term for human translates as "Mayfly" (a pest that dies quickly) -- the label orb weaver is a double entendre' -- it is to mean (dancer and spinner at the ball) as well as a step higher than mayfly -- the eater of mayflies in fact -- the context is too delicate but the title rests somewhere on the spectrum of praise and insult, or to imply a rival of worth or to watch.

Three of the elves bring ancient masks from Masquerades of old -- priceless relics in your reckoning -- one wears a mask of a stained glass frame imbued with dragonfly wings, and another a mask of mother of pearl carefully laquered to appear, in a certain light from a certain angle, to be a portrait of a lavish orgy over the gleaming surface. A third holds a mask on a wand-handle seemingly made of a single layer of gold leaf, pounded into the feathers of an owl.

"We remember your distant mothers and fathers, even if you do not -- we were... very intimate with some of your culture not too long ago. We smile at your addition to the colony, and hope you will find hospitality in the elven quarter as would befit the most civilized of humans -- or in the elven manors Northeast of here, on the lake. Consider yourselves our guests, if not our neighbors. We look forward to what your party has to offer in the days to come."

"Our forwardness is warranted, before some other faction opens its mouth and removes your palette for conversation. You will find the average folk here dull as lead and twice as dumb as shit -- but most have good enough hearts and the courtesy to die forgettable. I see you are following this conversation well, your ear for elvish language is good, one must wonder at the skill of your lips, pray tell? Who art thou and how might be benefit each other?"

On Finding a place to settle:

It seemed that the relatively recent clearing of parts of the ruins from undead had given claims to the Ancient Agora and theater district to existing faction groups -- The Attolians, Some religous knight order called the Victorians, and the High elves who seemed to hold sway over the most resplendant of the three theaters still intact, vast underground ampitheaters once filled with the dead, now the true bones of the structures could be seen -- strone granite, marble embossment, clean lines and bold spaces even the occasionally crack and patina of dust could not hide. To settle in the cleared ruin it was obvious deals would have to be made -- but at least so far it seemed the High elves were pleasantly disposed to them.

The other group sent to find potential places to settle found their own prospective sites -- There was still plenty of room to settle in the "'Platz" if it was so desired... the Northwest corner was largely unsettled, and many of the semi-intact buildings could be readily repurposed. Further inland there was space all around the learners square -- including a relatively disused Public theater. Where the Attolian fields ended north of the platz was still a fair amount of arable land... less attractive but still viable was the burned-out footprint of an area known as "the reinen" -- apparently a faction had settled here recently and was wiped out in a recent conflict -- though the locals assured that with the death of "The horned one(?)" that such a fate was unlikely to strike the same place again.

For one wealth the Highborn were willing to give a full year's "hospitality lease" to the Qrirain if they chose to live in the "highborn villas" well to the north, on the river -- opulent and beautiful houses, they were barely in use by the highborn themselves, and it seemed the Highborn wished to cultivate goodwill with the Qrirain by giving them safe cresh there. Elven art, gold embossment, sculpture and all manner of art and high culture decorated these places -- it was surely a housing district meant to court the well-to-do of the colony to make settlement there, and bind their economy to the high elves. Close to this area to the north was the living-tree stockade of "Harun'Taras" -- the holdfast of the minotaurs. Such neighbors were not exceedingly appealing at first (or any) glance to the Qrirain, but they seemed harmless enough when you subtracted their smell. They fortunately kept their livestock -- of which there were many, far enough Northwest not to be seen or heard. The minotaurs were slow of movement, and slow in speech, but wore the trappings of wealth -- it startled the Qrirain scouts to find the most common currency was "The Silver Orm" -- a heavy silver coin with the head of a Minotaur chief on it -- it was unclear how, but these lumbering hulks had a deep hand on the wealth in the colony, and wore enough silver to prove it. Inquiry about what an "Orm" was brought sober replies that it was the current leader of the Tyren -- though he was horribly injured in recent fighting and has not been seen to lead or in public for weeks. How quaint.

Scouts were quickly disabused of the notion that settling near the great trees was a viable option -- apparently -- superstition or not -- the colony feared some entity called "THE CULL" lived in one of those trees -- a tree ringed with the bones of thousands of creatures, apparently preying on the region for untold years. the bones laid in strata partly excavated by other colonists -- and it contained the skulls and bones of countless animals, gnolls, minotaurs, humans, orcs, and various other races. Even as they stared into the great canopies the skeletons of small birds fell, like intermittent rain... something hideous lived in those trees. Something dark, something ancient...


The great trees were not safe to settle, but the Shadowfields to their north, far enough away seemed viable. The land directly to the east of the Platz seemed to have a great gate in the ground leading into the dwarven Firebeard Holdfast General Deth Glitch -- if anyone wished to settle on top of the dwarf-hold, they'd likely want to broker that agreement diplomatically.

Further exploration of sites would need more specific direction.

As far as labor -- there was much to be done in the colony -- the skilled workers of the Attolians quickly moved in with plans for building a non-denominational temple to the Muurdaan Pantheon -- the idea being to end religious posturing and disputes by making a single great house of worship for all gods. Plans were quickly inked and the labor was put to use -- The proceeds of which The Qrirain were able to leverage into food security for at least half the winter without needing to dive into their own coin. It was also seen that there was needed labor for the new capitol building and the expansion of the "Learners Square" to include more indoor areas so that cultural exchange could occur in warmth and cover from the elements. It seemed for now there were never enough hands to accomplish the growing of the relatively small and spread out colony -- and the workers of the Qrirain proved strong-backed and vicious in their tenacity to see a job done. Positive relations between the Qrirain Underclass and the "Exiles of Dracos" -- who also concerned themselves much with hired day-labor were readily secured. Both sides fancied themselves the tougher though for now they were content to compete with tool and cart than in any martial display. Heyitsjiwon -- the new untamed element of the Qrirain commoners did however concern attolian constables. Many bore the scars of combat -- even recent ones... and the constabulary was concerned what an infusion of such gruff folk could mean for the taming of the exiles that was going so well...

UPDATE: Qrirain labor traded for increased food security. Choice of settlement options exists, (specifics can be discussed with GM) -- including highborn offer of lavish villas. (apprently the highborn know of Qrirain nightlife by reputation and seek to cultivate positive ties)

 

[Beckoncall]

PLACEHOLDER FOR AL-TURBANSK AND STOUTMEN ORDERS PROCESS -- coming soon.

Following that, tying up of old Attolian and Fennec business, followed by new.

 

[Spacekitty]

OLD ORDERS Beckoncall

Four pairs of beady eyes stared suspiciously at each other from across the card table, the sounds of the bar room filtered out to a dull buzz as the card players studied their opponents with intense concentration, looking for any subtle, inaudible subconscious clues to give them the upper hand. Keen eyes flickered about, taking note of their own hand and darting between their competitors and the staggered stacks of shining gold coins in the center of the table, the grand prize.

Each held five cards in their hand, the rest of the deck spread out across the table in small groups, a standard game of “King’s Hand” played almost to the end with one hand to go. The dealer, an exile by the name of Saren sat at the head of the table, watching his fox patrons with the slightest of grins as he drew out the tension of the fina hand before finally flipping over the final groupings.

“Make yer’ bets and show yer’ hands” He said, grinning wide and kicking back.

The Fennecs took one last look at their own hands and the opponents across from them. One, a more risk taking fellow pulled out a small draw string bag and tossed it towards the center. “All in”.

The other three gulped internally, but on the outside remained stoic. Checking their hands one last time, they obliged, tossing their own purses into the midst.

The Exile chuckled and swung himself forward back towards the table. He got a cut of each game, so the idea of such a large pot was not so stressful to him. “Alright, show your hands”.

This was the moment, one would emerge rich and the other three poor. They paused for a moment, each doing some barely noticeable movement before laying their cards flat on the table. If one had been paying close attention, they may have seen a flurry of movement amongst each of their hands, maybe even the glimpse of a card or two being switched with a hand hidden within their sleeve. But Fennecs were quick, and the Exile too busy counting his share to watch. Each was confident their little trick would win them the game, smiling internally at their perceived slyness.

At the nod of the card master, they flipped over their hands, all shocked to see they all seemed to have the same exact hand. They looked around at each other for a moment in panic, trying to come up with a plan with the Exile just looked dumbly at the cards.

“They cheated!” they shrieked at once, pointing at one another.

The Exile looked around dumbly for a second more before a large knowing grin began to spread across his face. He grabbed the pile and scooped it towards him.

“You know the rules fella’s, cheaters always lose”. The four Fennecs groaned.


ORDERS:
Every Friday during winter the Finecians will be hosting an inside/outside “festival” at the Blooming Lamb to help keep boredom at bay. Drinks will be half off, dealers will set up functioning card tables and live dancing, singing, Finecian acrobats and other forms of entertainment will be free for all with speciality commodities available for purchase from discret vendors. All are welcome and invited to attend. This festival will also take place outside on the streets of the Tyren settlement where merchants of all races and factions can sell to party goers and street performers can play freely. Fires should keep the place relatively warm. AND FOOD + BEER SHOULD KEEP EVERYONE HAPPY!






Andrei and the Fennecs looked at the misshapen form of the Brood Mother in disgust, some of the Fennecs already preparing to light and throw Fox Tails to end the miserable creatures existence, but were stopped by Andrei. An idea seemed to form in his head as he watched the Attolians gather the Mud Elf Infants. He knew he had one chance.

“Have no fear my Lady, you will not be harmed. If it is a husband you desire, let me be so gracious as to offer you the hand of our finest warrior, Uug (motioning to the armor clad troll who stared at the Broodmother dumbly) to be your husband. Or if that displeases you..” He paused for a moment, as if to decide if he really wanted to go through with this, “Myself. I assure you the others will not give you a better offer for your life or a better suitor. In fact I believe they would be quite keen to imprison, study or even kill you, a horror I would not allow. We- I can rid you of this filth and give you and your children. a new life”. He fell silent. If one could see his face you would see it was drained of color from the thought of marrying that THING, but alas one could not see or hear the cold Assassin’s emotions.


ORDER: The Fennecs offer the Brood Mothers choice of suitors amongst them, safety and comfort.


OTHER ORDERS:
Research on recovered weapons, attempting to reverse engineer them. (10 Skilled Workers)

In order to help defend their Tyren allies, the recalled Search Forces are reassigned to keep watch over the Tyren Cattle. (2 Armored Trolls, 5 Thugs, 5 Skilled Workers, 2 Skilled thugs, 1 capo (Sontio))

Workers are sent to study the green houses and structures built by the Highborn and Attollians in order to learn how they are made so the Fennecs can build their own greenhouses with ease. At the same time they will begin erecting a single, medium sized Greenhouse for testing purposes. They aim to keep the interior hot and dry like a desert so they can grow plants native to their homelands inside the colony. All of this will be overseen by their Master Botanist. (5 Skilled workers to study other factions designs, 10 Skilled workers and 4 thugs to build, Master Botanist to oversee (1 capo))


5 Skilled Workers, 5 thugs and Master Jeweler Capo and Master Brewer (2 capo) to maintain production levels.

Every Friday during winter the Finecians will be hosting an inside/outside “festival” at the Blooming Lamb to help keep boredom at bay. Drinks will be half off, dealers will set up functioning card tables and live dancing, singing, Finecian acrobats and other forms of entertainment will be free for all with speciality commodities available for purchase from discret vendors. All are welcome and invited to attend. This festival will also take place outside on the streets of the Tyren settlement where merchants of all races and factions can sell to party goers and street performers can play freely. Fires should keep the place relatively warm. AND FOOD + BEER SHOULD KEEP EVERYONE HAPPY!

2 Armored Trolls, 1 Capo (Andrei), 10 Thugs, 5 Skilled Workers, 2 Skilled Thugs Are helping explore the Mud Elf Village


NEW ORDERS:

(INCOMING)

 

[Beckoncall]

"First Impressions" : Al-Turbansk

It would a while before the Junk was fully dissembled, but the Shiek's followers knew the materials would go far to shielding them from the elements and providing heat and fuel for the coming winter. The majority of the Al-Turbansk still camped on the beach, accepting the hospitality of fishermen but being guarded considering their vulnerable position and lack of knowledge of social footing to trust. Apparently two main sources of protein in the colony were Capybaras (large rodents called donkey rats harvested from the giant sewers that existed beneath the relatively diminutive colony) and shark-meat -- there were untold numbers of sharks, their turning and fins perpetually disturbing the surface of the water in the dusk.

Meanwhile, in the Platz, there was work for day laborers -- there was work on a kind of unifying temple building, and continued "improvements" on the new capitol building which would serve as a seat of government. Learning of Attolian Incentives to start businesses, it was easy to levy some grants which, combined with monies secured to help build the temple of the pantheon, gave the Turbansk some needed petty cash and funds enough to purchase some food security for the winter. In the market, Food was in the highest demand because of concerns for winter, but there was also a great demand for luxury goods. The Tyren, who seemed heavy in coin, were as interested in selling their own "Bull Iron" wares (hand pounded iron of exceptional quality!) as they were in purchasing any new curiosities and trappings of comfort. The highborn seemed to have a bottomless appetite for luxury goods... raw materials were also in demand, but supplies seemed to be well met on everything except perhaps lumber -- for an area close to so much woods it seemed strange that timber carry the prices it did... until it was learned only recently the woods weren't filled to the gills with indigenous hostiles.

The Attolian housing district had plenty of room in it, and the locals seemed pleased at the potential promise of new neighbors moving in. Underground farms/gardens -- situated in the sewers -- were shown to the Al-Turbansk, as were great ceramic heaters that were intended to vent during winter to keep the solid stone wood-framed houses warm during the winter. It seemed the Attolians were not just genuinely friendly, but were very focused on stimulating the economy and making allies. Shiek Atiq would have to meet this "Lord Caelis" who was the face for these Attolians, but he was already surprised with hospitality of the locals -- it was almost as if there was competition for proximity with newcomers... though the politics or reasoning behind this remained confusing. His agents overheard talk that the high elves had ambitions of becoming the seat of culture in the colony, and courters of the most well to do citizens -- while the Tyren seemed also to be showing their best face with their wares and welcoming to "Harun'Taras" -- a place they could not be quite sure was a part of the colony as a whole or not. The Fennec Fox-folk seemed to gladhand everyone.. but their light-fingered reputations were well known to the Turbansk so nobody lost any rings shaking hands.

Asma was greeted with open arms at the healers guild. Highborn field medics plied her with questions of knowledge while Attolian attendants of some doctor or other likewise picked Asma's brain for her particular knowledges. Books on herbalism were being shared by woodelves, and some art called "bone singing" to set fractures was being discussed by the ratkin. "What skills are yours?" the healers guild questioned... "And will you be joining the healers guild given you have what it takes?"

Mirnil was pleasantly surprised by the events going on at Learner's Square -- it seemed the primary order of the day was the dissemination of the common tongue amidst Aymaran (Croc-men) and Kobolds -- who were both teaching their strange draconic language as much if not more than they were applying to learn the common tongue. Attolian interpreters facillitated and teachers of various races spoke not only on language, but on culture. Shared customs practice and norms and morays for the colony seemed loose, but there was definitely a slant on rule of law -- something that may not have existed for long in the colony thus far. Mirnil learned a bit about recent events in the colony -- in particular how an evil demi-god destroyed part of the woods and colony to the east only to be thwarted by colonial forces and sending his followers into death or disarray... the so called "mud elves" -- they learned that much treasure was won in recent battles but little was done to divide it so much of it languished somewhere. They learned that whole swathes underneath the colony were spooled with warrens of some folk called "the ratkin"... and that curious crystalline imps.... "Zebani" were attempting to acclimate to the colony as guests. So much news it was dizzying. Something about a Hunger Ghost... and a Menagerie District in the ruins filled with horrible monsters. Some faction of undead who seemed friendly enough called "The twiceborn" far to the west... and on and on. There was even a history class on things that had happened in the age before men, generally the domain of dwarves and elves -- supposedly taught from the writings of an ancient "Gibboleth" -- whatever this could be it supposedly lived in the Tyren Section. Mirnil could stay to learn more or seek information on specific topics, or just as easily return to camp head aspin with all that seemed to be going on. Still, Mirnil's high elven culturation and impressive diplomatic skills won her friends in this arena -- especially amidst other high elves who had come from the elf quarter.

Joreus explored the grasslands east of the 'platz -- and found the area quite habitable. While the locals warned that the closer to the great trees one got the closer one got to whatever this "Cull" thing was... there was plenty of space between the platz and the trees to start something big. The one complexity? The lands to the east of the 'platz had one squat structure -- a blackstone cube with dauntingly powerful doors -- dwarves lived beneath these grounds. At first there was concern that settlement would be forbidden, but talk with dwarven kinfolk seemed to yield the idea that settlement above the dwarves was acceptable if the proper respects were paid and arrangements to be welcome could be achieved. General Deth Glitch

Finally Sanyir had his own experience down at the Inn "Donkey Rats" -- it seemed poised for some kind of renovation... they were able to run elbows with gruff fishermen, unquenchably thirsty Amaryans and dwarfs, The beautiful singing of an Attolian lady called Phaedra, and the boasts of a lady adventurer called Helysoune. ("One wealth retainer and I'll pursue any quest! Sparkling references upon request!") Gruff and short on charm she made an impression as black as the close-cropped hair she wore... though a drink or two for hospitality was given her... Attolian ale, which frankly left much for an elf to desire, but Fennecian Dream-Soda gave a spectacular white lightness to everything around her, so she ordered another. She ended up in two very strange conversations -- one with a "Zebani" -- a red-crystalline imp with yellow lights for eyes that seemed confused at what the purpose of drinking really was, and a one sided conversation with a skeleton (no really, A SKELETON!) that called itself one of "the twiceborn" -- the skeleton was unable to hear speech, but could be conversed with using a quill and parchment. The skeleton itself could speak directly into the mind of a conversational partner. Zebani communication was even stranger -- it seemed they could hear just fine, but communicated by sending vibrations directly to one's inner ear. The twiceborn explained that they were the product of a magical mishap that occured during some "war with the mud-elves" -- that they were animated constructs, and not undead -- bones given freewill, not the restless spirits of whoever owned these bones. Confusing bantir... there was so much to learn. By the end of the evening Sanyir had made friends off the basis of her stamina with drink, including some not very easily impressed dwarves. The colony seemed as curious about her group as ever she could be about the locals...

 

[General Deth Glitch]

Ever vigilant, the stout Dwarves saw the arrival of the new ships. They marched to the temporary camp that Grimdr had hastily set up above the entrance to the hold. The small shack had beds enough for all their people, provided they take shifts. Grimdr was sat outside the front gate looking at documents he was going to propose to the Colonial Government when they approached. "Grimdr, new colonists have arrived. They wander about like they own the place. I suspect some are not prepared for the winter to come." said one. "Ay Lads. Lets get some greetin's goin'. Send three of our lads to meet each of these new factions and offer them our help, as we do tae all. Find our their plans an', subtly, their... allegiances. Then I wan' this offer be made. Food and shelter for t' winter in return for supplying soldiers tae help us wi' oor threat doon there." he said, gesturing down to the stairs below. He had moved his people out of their grand creation after growing fears over the stability of the staircase that was being scraped at. "An' send word tae t' dogs and d' Highborn. They offered their help before.. well.. before we dealt wi' well what e'er dat thing was." he finished. He looked back to his writings. They were amateurish and difficult to read as he was not writer, but he felt they held his ideas well. As he worked on groups of Dwarves were found to meet the new colonists and spread Grimdrs hospitality.
Bone2pick Comrade in the Shade Shireling Spacekitty Prince Vaethorion

The documents, in brief, suggested the following ideas.
First, two of the ballistae should be positioned above the docks to protect the coast.
Second, A Colonial Army formed of small parts of faction soldiers under the governments command
Third, The Dwarvern Bridge that is half constructed will be given to this force to defend
Fourth, the fort on the far side of the bridge should be given a Ballista for defence
Fifth, The Firebeards should be accepted as an official member and in return they will share many of their future contructions
Sixth, Future joining colonists should be subject to more restrictions on where they can initially settle
Finally, The Colonial Government should begin to help support colonial infrastrcture
@Government that I apparently am not in

It had further suggestions relating to each point, certain times being more specific and sometimes even drafting potentially laws. He hoped that all of his ideas would be discussed and that perhaps some would even find their way to becoming a reality. He was worried that as things were the colony was unstable and could soon devolve into individual factions and races fighting for supremacy. He knew that unity was vital for the colony but unity is such a way that would not lead to the rich getting richer and the poor falling by the wayside. He saw they had an opportunity and knew that only so much could be done in winter and so it was a good time to discuss such ideas to be implemented in better times.

It had been beginning to annoy him that many still refused to see his people as equals, even here. Even after the battle. He wanted to show he and his people were fully invested in this Colony. It was everything to them and he was willing to prove it. Once he had dealt with their current problem and could move back into their new home he planned to construct an elevator from the dock to the top of the cliff to lift people and products up the steep cliffs. With this project he then intended to build sturdy, flat, Dwarvern roads. First to connect the top of the lift to the Platz and the upper entrance of his hold and then to continue that to connect all the regions with sturdy, flat roads so that their new and evolving transport technologies would suffer no problems travelling, reducing damage done to product and comfort lost to travellers.

------------------------------------------------------
Order:
Moved out into a shoddy shack at the top of the Dwarf hold
Sent messengers to welcome new colonists and offer hospitality
Wrote a document of suggestions for the colonial government which will be delivered
Discussed future plans because YOLO! AMIRITE!
Beckoncall​

 

[Beckoncall]

Stoutmen at the Bar:

"Where you reckon you new folks are going to settle?" A heavily tattooed barman inquired.

I can give you a rundown of the usual suspects around here...

First I can tell you about "The exiles" -- prisoners in the old world, we've earned our freedom carving a place around here. We're a salty lot -- but were more laid back than half the peoples here.

First I can tell you about the Attolians -- one the surface they look like Imperial power, and they even got some trappings of it, but they ain't Muurdain -- they're just cousins that never had a minute out of their shadow, til they got here. We exiles cooperate with them because they got the best outcome of the colony at heart. We're still not too sure how they'll react when the Muurdaan finally try to flex their muscles over here -- but for now they're the devil we know that knows the devil we don't know best.

After the Attolies I'd mention the Tyren -- Eastern Minotaurs are almost exclusively Mercs and raiders -- and that's the reputation people propagate. Couldn't be farther from the truth. Tyren are quiet unless you get them mad (or drunk) and they're peaceful nomads until they chose to settle here. They talk about "Harun'Taras" like its separate from the colony, but they're more in bed with the local economy than a sailor on shore leave. Bull Iron and The silver they draw from their mines have taken the place of old world coin in most exchanges. Most notably, they recently allied with some ancient thing called "Anais T'leth Aboleth" - some at the learners square say the Aboleth were an ancient species of sea things that ruled the earth before there was land. In any case, it knows a lot, so the Tyren keep it happy and it tells them history. I say if it's a fish it should spend more time drinking at taverns.

Next I'd mention Victorians -- knightly order obsessed with knowledge. Flexing their muscles with the attolians about demons and blood fountains, they really should learn how to live and let live. Their lighthouse burns the hell out of undead, so I'll keep 'em around even though they are the absolute basement of dependable customers... sober lot they are.

Then you've got the Firebeards... you don't see many dwarves outside the guilds or wandering around the surface until lately, but it's easy to get them wrong. On the top shelf of dealing with them they're stony and cold, but like the earth you get deep enough and it gets real warm. They worship dracos just like the most of us exiles, The dragon goddess brought them here for a reason, I reckon. If you're interested in news they've moved to the surface recently because of some kind of monster threat underground people be calling "The Fisher Mother" -- they really need friends right now to deal with it, and friendships and debts are two things dwarfs do not take at all likely. If you're looking to make friends, see how you can help them.

I could mention the Highborn -- skulky lot they are, except for their Bard lindar who loves to play here first, and sleep with all the wenches second. Stuffy lot -- they've always rallied to defend the colony despite the fact they got the diseased notion their blood is more valuable than anyone elses. I say we all bleed red. No offense to the Twiceborn, of course. They ain't got no blood.

The Twiceborn? We used to have a war with the mudelves over the river, until we recently killed thier god and they all killed themselves, or their demon-thing took them with him to whatever hell they're in now. The twiceborn are skeletons... but they ain't undead as such the way it was explained to me. You see, the mudelves tried to take control of the undead in the ruin and use them against us... Aymaran spellbreaking messed up that magic and it created a bunch of autonomous animated skeletons instead. Distinct from the "Longdead" -- who are genuinely the ageless damned of the extinct civilization of the magelords, the "Twiceborn" were basically given new life through the fractured necromancy and other magic that was supposed to make them enemies. They can talk directly to people's minds, but can't hear anything so you gotta draw them words and pictures. Friendly lot -- they know the ruins and can walk amoung the longdead without disturbing them...

You've arrived a little too late to meet the Reinen and the wood elves -- Most of the wood elves fled back to the old world when they heard Muurdaan continued aggressions against their heartwoods, but the youngest stayed with the Tyren, just in case you see any. Great tree-singers -- they work with living wood. The Reinen is a sadder story -- utterly obliterated by the horned one in the recent war with the mud-elves... it'll tell you two things -- one, consider where you first choose to settle, and second -- even guns ain't gonna save you when you're caught pants down. The reinen settlement is burned to the ground... hell, if the ground was lower I reckon the reinen colony would be there instead.

You won't see many ratkin by the light of day, but don't worry about 'em -- they're hard workers and genuinely warm. They seem to spend a lot of time digging and breedin', but they show up when there's a fight, and that puts 'em good in my book. They know how to poison as well as heal... I'm glad they're on our side.

Sharing the underground is the Aymarans -- Croc men who are frankly as dumb as rocks -- almost to a man. They came to the colony with only one colonist that spoke common, and wouldn't you know that fellow went missing in the sewers. Since then they've been trying to learn some words of common and the sly ones are learning to slap the stupid ones so they stop trying to take a bite of other colonists. They make great shark-hunters -- and seem to get fat on that horrible smelling shit the big sharks seem to be eating -- we call it "god rot" -- the aymarans love it... We're still trying to find a way to use it in cuisine that doesn't open up the sluice on a warm blooded animal on one end or both. Still, we carry it because it's an aymaran delicacy.

Then you got the Fennec -- natural born troublemakers -- their first task upon arriving was uncovering the local crime syndicate, killing it, and I'm assuming replacing it. They have a voluntary protection racket, which is quite reasonable if you ask me -- better to tip your robber than leave him hungry. They also sell great refreshments and have a high priority on increasing the quality of life around here. You can't say many of the colonists are a fun lot -- but I'm hoping the arrival of the Qrirain and the existance of the Fennec will change that.

You're also likely to see kobolds, sirens, and some other strange characters around here -- they used to be slaves that were re-homed in the new world. Not much to say about them except they get a lot of work done around here.

I'm sure I'm forgetting some characters, but the more you mix with the colony the more you'll learn about the usual suspects. Before I forget -- I'll mention the Zebani -- They sometimes come to the bar and ask what I'd call the stupidest questions, until I realized how differently they must see the world and how little they understand it. Seems dracos knows how long ago they were an army of golems constructed to destroy the city to the west, and if you look at the state of it, it would seem they succeeded. Tasked with killing everyone in the city of this mage king or queen -- they are now troubled with the fact that their spirits keep rising from the dead, and are fascinated that the colonists have had better luck getting their souls to rest than pounding back into oblivion century after century. Got an innocence about them -- the smallest ones are called "Rock built" or "Grav built" or whatever -- there is apparently a heirarchy among the zebani, and we only see the smallest ones. They don't drink but they tip plenty to talk and mix with patrons. They're trying to learn to function outside of their design, I reckon... just look at them as unfortunate weapons trying to be people -- and be ready to hear some very strange stuff come out of their gobs. If it involves pounding something flat they're likely experts, but if it involves society or anything else, they're babes in the woods.

Let me know if you have any other questions about town, stoutmen, and I'll suggest Finnican ales and dream sodas if you are used to harsher fare going down.

And I highly recommend two signiture dishes here at Donkey rats -- we've got Shark ala Rat, which a baby shark stuffed with baby rats, and our second popular special Rat ala Shark -- which is a great big cappy stuffed with baby sharks. I promise it's taste has much improved considering all the spices and flowers we've gotten from market.

Feel free to ask me about people and places -- Donkey rats it a family establishment, and we're soon gonna open our underground gardens for fine dining experiences in the warmth of our sewer-- I mean subterrainian gardens!

Shireling

 

[Beckoncall]

"ATTOLIAN BUSINESS: OLD AND NEW:"

Donkey rats was taking on a new veneer... gnomish ingenuity had made most of the deplorable initial structure savable, and the ample labor made the renovations both quick and frugal of cost. Eschewing the opulence and stylization of the Blooming lamb in Harun'Taras, Donkey rats prided itself on being a family establishment... this required a little help from the constabulary, as the exiles had long since taken the 'Rats as a place to cool the blood in a variety of manners... but the installing of private booths and a back area for more hearty shenanigans really made the place stand out. Children were mostly kept at home in the colony, but they began to show their faces at donkey rats outside of the learners square. It gave a new home-ful feel to the Platz... the greys of the ruins looking a little more white for the effort... the winter promised to make the platz a whiter place still if it snowed... but for now it was crisp air and the sounds of youth

Morale in the Platz improves!

Seer stones: With the assembled help of the colony's mages -- five seer stones are made easily and quickly... two would endure for some time, three had a perceived life of only a few days. It was postulated that the greater seer stones could be placed in the meeting hall of the capitol to "record" all proceedings... and if the colony ever had a permanent legitimate bank and treasury the second greater seer stone would do well to watch that area as well. The lesser stones should be suitable for construct investigation of "The drowning one"...

Training of Attolian Volunteers continues, making the workforce slowly take the shape of regiments that could defend themselves. it would take much more time, but with the alternative running from their homes, many took up arms to defend them instead...

The Pantheon Temple was quickly taking shape with huge carts of marble and wealth to pay Qrirain day laborers who quickly demonstrated their worth. Much of their money went towards steps towards food security, but it was a great and welcome trade and cooperation.

The footprint of the temple, a grand oval, and stacked marble columns had already risen. The different faiths would be invited to bring effigy and statues of their gods as opportunity permitted, the stoutmen Shireling , upon learning they were invited to bring their religion into the pantheon, did not know what to think -- if the muurdain pantheon condemned their faith in the old world, why would it be invited into muurdain pantheons in the new? Intrigue definitely rose from this overture... but in the meantime, the temple was rising as well.

With the addition of dwarven experts, the casts for cannons were almost complete -- whether the prototypes would serve had yet to be seen, the project might need more wealth to succeed. The dwarves were confident that smaller mortars could reliably be produced, but light and medium cannons would need much more work. once working cannons were achieved, an attempt to miniaturize the weapons into firearms could begin in earnest. If only they had working examples of guns to help with their project!

Construction of the Lumber mill had exited the planning stages, when they realized the stoutmen Shireling likewise had plans to secure lumber -- first by building a bridge to reach the woods, then exploiting the woods more effectively. If the groups were willing to work together, the combined result could be more than the sum of it's parts.

 

[Beckoncall]

COMING UP: Process of Fennec and Firebeard actions.

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Last Post in regards to Brood Mother:

Sir Tristan listened to the Fennec and his eyes narrowed. They were plotting something and in addition had insulted him and the honor of the Attolians. "Hold your tongue, fox. Unlike your folk, we Attolians and the Colonial Government as a whole have a history of honor and trustworthiness. To call us torturers, and to seek your own benefit? It is clear to me that you hold no affection for us, to call us "they" when we sought for a merciful justice for your kinds' murders and thefts. You will retract your words and apologize for sullying the name of the Colony."

 

[Beckoncall]

FENNEC FANFAIRE:

The first festival of the blooming lamb takes place in Harun'Taras -- it is frequented by many of the regular folk, especially the Tyren and wood elves. Many attolians and even a representation of highborn spent coin and played games of chance.

OPTION: any faction can attend the faire in earnest -- may cause fluctuations in wealth and morale!


The Brood Bride: THE FENNEC ACTION TO RECOVER THE BROOD MOTHER IS OPPOSED! NAVIGATE THE SITUATION IN THREAD! Heyitsjiwon Spacekitty


Weapon research: of the weapons recovered from the reinen, the fennec worked hard and enthusiastically on breaking them into little peices and seeing how they worked. By the end of the project, the muskets were irretrievably ruined, but flinklock pistol technology now belonged to the fennec. Now to find a supply of gunpowder!

Greenhouse technology: Without much to stop them, the fennec learn how to assemble greenhouses -- though glass remains expensive in the market.

 

[Beckoncall]

PROJECT SYNERGIES!:

The FIREBEARDS AND STOUTMEN BOTH WANT TO BUILD A BRIDGE OVER THE RIVER, IF WILLING TO COOPERATE, THIS ACT WILL GAIN A BONUS!

ATTOLIANS AND STOUTMEN BOTH WANT TO MAKE A LUMBER MILL, COLLUSION WILL LIKEWISE CONFER BONUSES!


OPPORTUNITY: FIREBEARDS HAVE A MONSTER PROBLEM! FACTIONS OFFERING MILITARY AID AND COMFORT ARE OFFERED SHELTER AND FOOD THROUGHOUT WINTER.

FOOD SECURITY: new arrivals makes food stores tenuous again.

 

[Shireling]

The Stoutmen
​

Thanking the gentleman that had supplied them with a wealth of information, Reverend Kearney and Captain Gardver returned to where the Stouts had debarked. As night fell, the men had made a quick job of pitching tents and getting fires going in a flat, barren area near the Platz. It would do for the night. As they approached, they saw the typical cheery scene of Stouts at their diversions.

"A tune, a request if you please?!" Exclaimed a jovial, rotund Stout man holding a fiddle in his right hand and a tankard of ale in another. He drank the vessel dry, made a show of turning it out on the ground with the predictable effect being nothing spilling from the cup, and then made a face before laughing heartily.

"Bran, you drink us out of ale in a night!" Someone shouted.

The fiddler waved good naturedly, "I would, but I prize my life good sir. Now a tune! A request?"

"Captain Marvel!" Someone shouted.

"Aye!" The fiddler pointed at the crowd with bowstring now in hand. "That's a good one."

The Stout started to saw upon his instrument, giving rise to a sweet melody that drifted through the camp. A chorus joined in singing:

Twas once a brave lad from Merisi
Joe Marvel his name was
He fought for Empire day and night
Muurdaan was his blood
But the one thing that he lacked
Yes, what made him rather droll
Was a greatly lacking common sense
Yes, he 'ad half the brain of a troll

The song went on to tell the story of how Captain Marvel marched a 20,000-man army into the Home Country and was convinced by a Stout lass of 10 to turn around and besiege the Capital out of stupidity.

While festivities consumed those outside, Kearney retired to a tent they had generously pitched for him. Inside, another clergyman was reading by the fire contained in the center of the large tent.

"A letter came for you. From a Dwarf, strangely enough. I told him I would take his message and give it to you to consider." He flashed a piece of parchment at Kearney.

"Already? I haven't even been to the post office to confirm a change of address." He replied sarcastically. Unfolding the letter, he could see it was from a people known as the Firebeard Dwarves. Kearney had read quite a bit about the Dwarves as a people in general. They were much like the Stouts in some ways, and he greatly respected them. According to the letter, the Dwarves had some sort of monster problem which he couldn't quite make out. It also suggested cooperation on the building of a bridge and the common defense. Knowing that most of his men were ill-equipped to be fighters, but thinking well of the deal, Kearney wrote the following and had it delivered the next morning by a runner:

To the honorable leader of the Firebeard Dwarves,

Hello, my name is James Kearney and I am the leader of the Stoutmen engaged in this enterprise of colonizing the New World. I don't believe there has ever been a formal meeting between our two people. Thus, it honors me greatly to tell you that I have considered your offer of mutual aid and I am ready to wholeheartedly accept it. I have amongst my group thirty professional halberdiers, and several dozen able-bodied men who can serve provided arms. I would stress, however, that we Stouts are a peaceful people and would be more suited to the task of assisting in your construction project than fighting. However, owing to your generosity in extending offer of quarter for the winter to my people, we are at your service.

Granted one proviso, that we be granted settlement rights to land east of the river. It is my understanding that east of the river lies land and forests for us both to establish prosperous plantations.

Your humble servant,
James Kearney

General Deth Glitch

ORDERS
​

If the Dwarves accept Kearney's proposal, the Stoutmen will move to consolidate their forces and builders with the Dwarves.

Stoutmen go into town to attempt to buy two or three carriages and the requisite draft animals to carry their supplies.