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

[Bone2pick]

It was a night of celebration. Harp strings chimed, flutes twiddled, violins wailed, and boot heels rapt against floor planks. The sun had set long ago but the village of Loch Monsto had never been so awake. Candelabras gleamed over lace-covered banquet tables. Servants skipped to and fro refilling thirsty nobles' goblets. The air swirled with the delicious aromas of buttered crawfish, spiced rabbit kabobs, strong elvish spirits, and intoxicating Qirish perfume. With all of the Invited attending the party in the assembly hall was in full swing.

Ollerrol, dressed in an orange and black butterfly gown, danced under the hall's central quartz chandelier. Her masked partner, whose faceplate was split—one half ivory white and smiling and the other crimson and scowling—was a young Invited male named Jaflag. The two had just glided through their second waltz together. At the song's close, the Party Master and her partner bowed and then repositioned for a third dance. Or at least they tried to, before he cut in.

Darkly suited and underneath a sleek jade-colored cape, was Kraucac. He had stalked through the dance floor and ambushed them both. He appeared just off Jaflag's right elbow and nodded towards Ollerrol. She beamed at the sight of her new company, and her partner in response, turned to face the jester-masked Kraucac.

"Would you be gracious enough to grant another a dance with the Party Master?"

The Deputy's grinning mask pointed at Jaflag but his eyes were fixed on Ollerrol. The young Invited, a well-known friend of Kraucac's, bowed deeply and yielded the next waltz. Aristocratic heads turned to watch the Party Master and her Deputy embrace. Even the band waited for the couple's curtsey and bow before performing their next song.

It was a lovely slow piece, with a melody that touched hearts and stirred memories. Kraucac surveyed the comely neck and lower uncovered face of the Party Master as he swayed. Her olive skin silky and unblemished. It defied reality because it wasn't real. She was an illusionist, and her beauty efforts were fortified with enchantments. He never believed they were necessary. Ollerrol, having felt his gaze, blushed and pulled into his chest.

Over her Deputy's shoulder she spied the sorceress Niruna. She was partnered with Zersal, another Invited male, but he may as well have been a broomstick. She was staring daggers into the back of Kraucac.

"I can't tell if she loves or hates you."

Without need to turn and spot who Ollerrol referred to, Kraucac sighed.

"The thought of either is equally unappealing."

She giggled and flashed a charming toothy smile.

"Spare me your falsities; I know what goes on inside my party. Niruna sleeps in your bedchamber more than her own."

He rolled his eyes and gently shook his mask.

"Our late-night escapades merely satisfy the flesh, nothing more. She's too capricious and cynical... Even for me."

Her teasing smile shifted into something softer. Something more vulnerable. Her starry eyes searched behind the jester persona to glimpse the man's true face.

"We had our time, years ago. Not long after you were Invited. But you stopped coming over..."

Her words were barely above a whisper. She laid her cheek against his powerful shoulder and they waltzed silently. The band was halfway through their next song before he finally confessed into her ear.

"I had to. I cared too much."

She nuzzled deeper into his torso and they continued to dance for hours.

 

[Beckoncall]

Bone2pick :

"Gathered stones yields castle's bones"

The hills atop shearcliff were an ample source of stone. Under thinner layers of wind-swept dirt some hills yielded generous piles of hard-weathered scree that lent itself to excellent building materials. Some stones even had oddly smooth surfaces. As they quarried further southwest to the cliffs, the stones revealed their secret -- the dashed ruins of a castle, seemingly flung high into the air and scattered all throughout the shearcliff, had once existed here. A violent magic was the only explanation for the ruin of so solid a structure so spread...

Perhaps this white-stone fortress once rested on a fault (magical or otherwise) between where the Grassy hills of Harun'Taras lay at level with the clifftops and the shearcliff heights had be thrust airward. A castle could be rent to smithereens in an instant with such power -- and the more stone the GewGaw gathered, the more evidence there seemed to be that this was the case. Whole hillsides were cleared to reveal the bones of crumbled towers and bits of wall, once the initial layers of smooth and scattered brick were gathered up. There would be no shortage of stone here... but the question remained... if everything above ground of this disintigrated castle lay strewn on shearcliff heights, was there a sub-structure somewhere hidden by time?

Such concerns were secondary. The hiring of Tyren and the "motivations" of gewgaw labor yielded great carts of stone -- both of common type for utilitarian buildings and the finer sort (a white limestone sort) for more beautiful and worthy buildings for the invited. Weather and age had taken all art and architechture from the stone -- but the bones of a great castle still lay here... the type of castle perhaps the GewGaw eventually sought to build...


Boathouse and Pier:

Simple watercraft were constructed to gather the ample shellfish, crustaceans, and to a lesser degree fish from the Shearcliff resouvior -- the fish seemed a strange breed, and cunning -- they ably avoided nets and when they could not, their jagged teeth quickly rent them purchase from them -- it was a pity as the cunning fish of the resouvior were much leaner and tastier than those of the river below. For now they would remain delicacies for the Invited and if the catch could be improved, they would make a fine trade good. The chained orbs of black steel under the resouviors surface were gingerly avoided... as were the bands of gnolls always watching from the east bank.

Where larger clams and scallops could be found, occasionally truly impressive pearls were pulled forth... though nothing but blind luck so far could yield these treasures...

Diplomacy:

While membership in the formal government had yet to be achieved, influence spent about town and with individuals of some persuasion began to sell the idea that the public of the colony at large believed they should be made members. Why was the colony not unified? Why would the central authority be so slow in integrating those that would stand with them. Of course, the larger overarching issues and intricacies were wasted on the common folk... but the seeds were sown... a more united colony would have to form, or displeasure in the ranks of the folk of many factions would begin to ferment....

MARKET LEVERAGED FOR ONE WEALTH BY GEWGAWS. TOTAL MARKET WEALTH REMAINING: 11.

Security, rest and the preparation of food went swimmingly... little movement was detected, though some patrols reported the sounds of growling and deep slumbed from the bone-strewn caves far north of the settlement. One patrol had even seen the source of these sounds -- A single member of what must be a migration of DIRE BEARS to these caves for the winter from the north. The beast was not confronted, but it moved into a cave as one might slide into a familiar lounge...

Life was good in the GewGaw camp -- and the gewgaw hamlet slowly rose around them as the invited might gather for the dance, swirling industry, clean lines for streets, each construction a dance with a partner across a new street.

 

[Beckoncall]

Prince Vaethorion :

With new labor, the chariots began to see their true form... pulled by runners, Scythed wheels and fighting platforms all... and blessed.

While designs for the Mana Station (or magic mill as some called it) were sound -- it was rapidly determined that tears of divinity could not be recharged. WHY this was the case remained a mystery -- but the possibility of charging a tear of divinity rested still in the completely unknown mystery of their construction. Still, using the mana wells in the blasted heath would make a very effective magic mill indeed, if construction and proper expertise was put forth to tap it.

ARMORED RIDERS:

Progress on this project had exceeded expectations. Alphas, once broken, were terrible foes and reliable mounts... a full 15 riders had already become ready and shifted into their new roles from swordsmasters to heavy cavalry -- shifting military perceptions in the colony. Before now, it was only the Steel-shod hooves of the Sundered Kings that were the most evocative imagry for cavalry in the colony -- but now there were almost a score of these new riders, and their beasts more exotic.

+3 INFLUENCE HIGHBORN!

Spacekitty

Investment in the theater district, and the discussion of opening some interested with the fennec bear fruit if not at the highest levels, then between merchants and folk between the two factions on a less diplomatic level. The fennec express interest in the theater district as a place where the elite will gather and spend money, and fennec business and entertainment (impressive it was becoming!) could be united with such coin. Leaving the theater district to raw potential and abandonment no longer seemed sound -- High elves and monied Tyren wanted spectacles and shows beyond what they found within their own walls. The Order of the saint had morality plays and tragedies to perform, The Sirens of the Attolians used the acoustics of venues to generate great art in song -- as did the highborn -- and from that well being, entertainment, and the seeds of wealth began to be sown.

HIGHBORN LEVERAGE 3 WEALTH FROM MARKET -- REMAINING WEALTH 8.

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon Prince Vaethorion :

The Magic Mill of Blasted Heath...

The mage guild had worked together, and had done so effectively -- the highborn did not take kindly to the dabblery with death magic, but a formula was clear and an idea well-conceived. The cull had been fooled historically by hiding souls in the bones of previously slain -- the Attolians had no such complexities with death magic, and Their seer, working foremost above the guild, enchanted the first series of heavy bone armors, practically sealed casks of gnoll, mud-elf, and a myriad of bones from the cull-pit itself -- which were sealed casks of death magic. Designed for the undead, special tanks with the assistance of dwarves gave the wearers of these "bone suits" a limited air supply -- two hours of casual activity, but less than 30 minutes of strenuous activity -- this was their weakness. While it was believed the cull would be unable to perceive (at least not normally) a wearer of these suits -- climbing the trees where they rest was nigh impossible without opening the suits to refill the tanks -- even if a tree hundreds of feet high could be scaled so quickly, it would leave scant if no time to take the walk into the domains of the cull. Still, the mages were confident... as the strange senses of the cull were limitedly understood, a wearer of this suit would not be taken as alive -- or even present, in the eyes of the cull. as if to test it, the Tyren volunteered the use of the cull-eyes given to them by walks in cull, and only the swiftest movements of a wearer of these suits would show disturbance in the air, and no evidence of the wearer whatsoever.

This was the second breakthrough against the cull... and all had reason to take pause and celebrate.

+3 Influence for anybody with members in the mage guild!

______________________________________________________________________________

Shireling

Gnolls and Kobolds:

Kobolds were pronouncedly "Duel! Duel!" with enthusiasm for the faith, but little words in common could be addressed between the Stoutmen and the "peoples" of the Kobolds. They listened intently to the stories of the stoutmen, then seemingly made up their own -- of Muurdain fear of the stoutmen philosophy, or the philosophy being a large stone, which through spirited performances "took poops" on the pantheon of the Eternal empire. Bonds between the kobolds and stoutmen increased, and kobolds always seemed to be nearby when stoutmen, especially those of cloth, needed something done... but the best of their faithful doubted the kobolds understood anything much beyond the realities (and fabrications) that stigmatized the Muurdaan against them... though this was enough to hold the kobold interest.

Further discussion with Gnolls apologizing for the burning of forest unwarned and unbidden continued to smooth things over... two things seemed apparent with the gnolls -- they were numerous as hell, and they seemed to want no fight with the stoutmen or any of the colonists for that matter.
"Great burns and the killing of swathes of life was the old way, stoutfools." -- the gnolls apologized, as the nearest approximation to common the gnolls had for colonist was "unwise and lost" -- Clear delineations of the gnollish border were drawn on maps, and the gnolls, sensing the lack of hostility of the stoutmen, did something remarkable -- they finally removed their military presence along what used to be the mud-elf/gnollish border.

"We imagined perhaps there was another fight -- but in the north you stay on your side of the river, and we lay no claim to the cursed lands of the mud-elves, though we long thought it was we who would bring them to heel on day and settle their lands. You and your lot have turned fate, but in a way that pleases the bitch-queen. We hope you are still alive when the cull passes over again... then, and only then, when it is proven you are not short for these lands, can we finally speak of friendship -- but for now we shall simply speak of peace.

+4 influence stoutmen!

Heyitsjiwon :

MAGIC CRYSTALS AND BRAMBLE GEMS BECOME RENEWABLE RESOURCE! Ammunition for magic ballistas reaches stockpilable levels.

The Efforts of Cassandra, Sirens, and Attolian knowhow sing-grow mana crystals and bramble gems to new heights of commonality. The sirens sing more mana gems into existence, and with the help of mages their songs are enchanted with the crystals to grow yet more. The market is flooded with the crystals and the bramble gems, which carry mana power in the form of sustainable light, finally become affordable and practical for common usage.

THE COLONY AWAKES FROM A SHIFT FROM FIRE BASED LIGHT TO MAGIC BASED LIGHT! Even the humblest homes can use crystal over candle! It is worth noting that these are highly exportable resources as well... but for now it is sufficient that as the days grow shorter, the colony everywhere begins to sing with LIGHT!

+2 Wealth +2 Influence Attolian!

 

[Beckoncall]

Coming next: Prayers for the lost children, and the convenience of orphanages......

 

[Bone2pick]

​

Heavy winter capes dragged over slush and snow. A pack of hooded Gewgaws gripping light-stone lanterns were on the move. The crude trail they navigated, like the rest of the western Shearcliffs, was still veiled in highland fog. No wind had yet come to carry it off. Ollerrol, wrapped up snugly in her fur-lined burgundy cloak, was flanked by two others in the pack's center. On her left, holding and supporting her lovely noble hand, was the deadly carnal Xalla. And on her right, clicking his walking cane with every step, was the party's Major Domo.

"Bears? The patrols actually laid eyes on them?" She asked. Virding nodded and then itched his silver chin-whiskers.

"Yes, My Master — Dire Bears. I'm told they're larger and more ferocious than the other breeds."

Ollerrol's lower face, underneath her party mask, revealed that she was troubled. But only for a moment.

"Good thing the wall will be up soon," she eventually replied.

"Indeed. But what should be done about the bear caves near the village and along the road? We could attempt to lure out and kill the beasts?"

She shook her head as Xalla deftly ushered his master around a cluster of jagged rocks.

"No, they are not to be destroyed. Not yet anyway. I'll bet we have much to learn from the creatures that survive these mountains. I want to know what they eat. Surely they're too slow to catch rabbits or the slippery lake fish, so some other prey animal must keep them fat. Find out what they are."

"I'll send out a study team the moment we return," Virding offered. The fog was beginning to dissipate as they rounded a boulder the size of a Gewgaw pleasure tent. Ollerrol continued with her commands.

"As to the caves along the road: post signs up every two miles warning that the Shearcliffs are Dire Bear country. Travelers will have to stay sharp and sleep in shifts."

They marched up the gently sloping trail until the black parade soldiers in the front of the pack placed their lanterns at their feet. The fog had lifted and they had reached their destination.

"We have arrived at the ruins Party Master," Virding announced. Ruins was a generous description, as hardly any structure remained upright. But the loose stones and bricks scattered across the hill were as plentiful as brush in the jungle. Massive white stones, many of whom were still in excellent condition, poked out of the earth like tombstones. Something truly impressive and imposing had once graced these cliffs. Ollerrol, captivated by her surroundings, reached out and wiped a length of dust off the nearest great stone.

"No matter how well built, every castle eventually falls," she whispered. The Major Domo, following just behind his Party Master's shoulder, heard her words and nodded.

"Time is the ultimate kingdom razer, My Master. Only the immortal elves are immune to it."

Ollerrol pulled her cloak's hood back and shook her head.

"They are not immune, nor immortal; they only appear that way to our kind. The years will inevitably bury them too," she corrected as she continued to investigate the ruins. "Just like all the rest of us."

Eventually the Gewgaws approached a small corner of standing castle wall. At its highest point it was just taller than your average man, but the fact that it stood at all—when nearly everything else had toppled—was noteworthy. Once again Ollerrol approached and examined the stonework for clues.

"And one day, long after the elves are gone, some yet to form civilization will come along and dig up their rotten slender graves. Not to dishonor them, but to learn their secrets."

She reached into her cloak and retrieved a gemstone in the shape and color of a giant drop of blood—the party's tear of divinity. She carried it down to the grey earth blanketing the castle floor and peered through the jewel like a detective wields their magnifying glass.

"That is the only immortality any of us can hope for."

Ollerrol grinned with glee and with a sinlgle gloved finger carefully traced a circle into the dirt-caked castle floor.

​

His torch flame licked out like a serpent's tongue each time the northern wind blew. Kraucac had opted for the fire wand over a light-stone lantern because of its warmth. The four of them: the Deputy, the Sorceress Niruna, and their pair of carnal guards were layered under heavy cloaks and furs as they moved under the starry night sky. Little time had passed since he fetched Niruna out of her cozy cottage and led her into the rustic outskirts of Loch Monsto.

They crossed a cobbled street and approached the side door of the Gewgaws's primary barn. A lantern, suspended on a hook over the entrance, glowed and rocked back and forth with the wind. Shadows swayed and lurched as Kraucac rattled off the chain wrapped around the door's handle. When he finished he let the chain drop and coil beside his feet.

Niruna frowned under her party mask. The deputy didn't appear to notice as he motioned for the carnals to wait and watch near the front of the barn. As soon as the jesters were out of earshot the sorceress spoke.

"When you asked for a moment alone after dinner, I imagined myself lounging over your silk sheets beside hot pots of body oil. Yet here we are, outside the shit-reeking door of a cold and filthy barn."

His eyes grinned behind his faceplate.

"It's heartbreaking how often life fails to live up to our fantasies."

He snatched the door open and the two ducked inside. More twinkling lanterns illuminated the corners and stalls throughout the barn. The aroma of fresh straw would have been pleasant had it not been overpowered by the stench of animal droppings. Rabbits cowered and scampered as the noble couple passed near their cages.

"You shouldn't mock those you need something from," she finally replied. Her tone indicated she hadn't found the humor in his comment.

"I didn't bring you here to request a personal favor. This is party business," he said as he stopped in front of two large animal pens. Inside both, huddled into mounds of claws and coarse fur, were hyena packs—males separated in one, females together in the other. Kraucac gestured down at the them.

"Look at them, piled together to keep from freezing."

She shrugged.

"Of course they are; they're desert beasts and tonight it will likely snow again," Niruna shot back. Kraucac nodded and moved closer to the grumpy sorceress.

"They were born to hunt under a scorching sun, yet here they huddle, high in the windy, rocky Shearcliffs. Unfortunately for us, we still depend on them... They have to evolve Niruna. That's where your sorcery comes in."

He drew her left hand to his mask's hard crimson lips and gazed into her suspicious eyes. She looked away and pretended to be bored by his antics. He loved it when she did that. Eventually she sighed and met his gaze.

"What would you have me do?"

He gently rotated her forearm and dragged his gloved fingers over her wrist.

"Breed them. Breed the mountains into their veins."


ORDERS

• Construct wall — with the stone gathered the party commit a sizable amount of manpower to assembling the rubble wall. Clay from around the lake will be processed into mortar, and other binding materials available from the colony will also be included. Once complete the defensive barrier will skirt Loch Monsto from its southern and northern lakeshore edge, with room left for three gates, one large (southern facing) primary gate and two utility gates.
>> 45 peasants, 19 commoners, & 2 Invited

• Investigate Ruins — Party Master Ollerrol leads a small team into the newly discovered castle ruins to search for historical clues, artifacts, or any manner of buried objects of interest. Should it matter, she'll also be experimenting at the site with the party's tear of divinity.
>> 4 black parade, 1 carnal, 1 commoner, 1 Invited

• Breeding Project — Deputy Master Kraucac oversees an experimental hyena breeding project. The Gewgaw beasts, with the aid of Niruna's eromancy & Ollerrol's tear of divinity, are to be crossed with "essence" of Dire Bear. The party also brings in the colony's Mage guild for its expertise. The goal is produce a new, more powerful animal, that is better equipped for their rocky Mountain life.
>> 2 Invited, 5 commoners, hyena lashers (all), & 5 black parade

• Raegrass trade — the drug trade continues
>> 15 peasants, 10 commoners, & 1 Invited

• Security Patrols — specifically near the wall's construction area
>> 16 black parade, & 8 carnals

• General work & maintenance — building improvements, road clearing, waste removal, ect.
>> 15 peasants, 10 commoners

• Resting — awarded time to recover & tend to personal affairs.
>> 10 peasants, 5 commoners, 1 carnal, & 1 Invited

 

[Beckoncall]

Highborn services:

Entertainment and morale increases in the colony with the advent of a highborn gambling hall (+1 influence and +1 access to market!) The fennec quickly settle in and establish their own angles in the gambling hall, leading to increased synergy between the factions. (Fennec gain +1 access to market, and increased profit from vice!)

In accompanyment with other initiatives, The Highborn establishment of a documented labor pool will convey bonuses to leveraging of day labor and hired labor forces. (+1 influence highborn!)

 

[Beckoncall]

Everyone

Got a lot of stuff drafted up! prepare for posts resolving much standing business today!!!

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Doctor Fleming stepped out of the Healer's Guild and into the streets of the Attolian Housing District. The sun was bright, but the air was beginning to be bitterly cold. Still, the respite was welcome as Dr. Fleming took a deep breath to fill his lungs and get rid of the stench of blood and malaise from his nose. He had been working hard at the Healers Guild for the last few months. There were a lot of injured from the battle... and many more that couldn't be saved. Many were Attolian or Exile, rather familiar faces. However, they did their duty and found their final resting place among their brothers at the non-denominational Colonial grave yard to the east by the cliffs. There was also the question of Orm... gods knew how severely injured he was. He was still in coma and barely responsive. It would take some serious medicine or magic to make him better any time soon. However, several of the soldiers who fought in both of the Battles of Mud Elf Aggression noted how Caelis seemingly brushed off an equally horrible injury in the first battle, but was fine to still give orders... in fact he was fine to fight again the in second battle with little concern for his pre-existing injuries. "Caelis the Unyielding or Caelis the Tower were two common nicknames that some people, particularly the veterans, began to call him. Dr. Fleming had to admit, based on what he had heard about his injuries, Caelis should have been near death. Perhaps it was sheer luck and fate that his armor seemed to have taken the brunt of the damage.

Dr. Fleming's pondering was then stopped by a queer, mirthful sound. Children? Dr. Fleming began to walk towards the source of the sounds, but as he got closer and closer, there was little doubt. It was the sound of children laughing and playing outside in the streets. Perhaps, he spent too much time in the Healer's Guild lately, but the sight that he came across was a strange sight indeed. There were kids running around, playing games outside of what appeared to be Donkey Rats. However, even Donkey Rats appeared to have gone through a rebirth as it was no longer a gruff place for the Exiles and other rough figures. Rather, it looked like a rather wholesome inn where the town could come together to break bread and enjoy a glass or two.... well glass was a figure of speech since it was rather expensive at the Colony for such mundane use. Still, the Platz had seemingly gone under a transformation as of late. It seemed... warmer despite the coming winter. Even though Dr. Fleming wasn't one to drink... he still felt an urge to at least enter Donkey Rats and take part. However, a runner came towards him, clearly looking for him and said "Doctor Fleming, Lord Caelis requests your presence. It appears that the expedition to deal with the Mother Fisher will begin soon, and he wishes to have you and the Healer's Guild on standby." Dr. Fleming nodded and sent the runner off. There was no rest for the Colony's resident physician, but this was a burden he gladly bore. Because it was his work that allowed people to continue to laugh everyday even in these frightful times.

 

[Prince Vaethorion]

Highborn Elven troops were assembling in the courtyard of their quarter. Their Mithril armor under their ballistic weave woolen cloaks shined bright. Their swords, spears, blades were all sharpened and honed to razor edges. Quivers were full of razor edged Elven arrows, bows were taut and true. The Highborn were moving in perfect synchronicity like a well oiled machine. Orders in High Elven were called out, last inspections of the Highborn troops were being made by the Drill instructor, and the tactician went again through the battle plans. They were already perfectly memorized and drilled into the minds of every battle hardened troop headed to battle. Helmets were donned and Shields were shining. The Prince led the battle procession. He was armed to the teeth. First stop was at the Arch Angels shrine for a blessing.

Before all of that, the Prince ordered a mobile medical triage to be set up outside not far from the cave battle and for his Cleric to help oversee the healing that would likely be needed. This would be coordinated with Dr. Flemming and the rest of the medical guild. His best five Elves trained at the infirmary were assigned to it.

The Ballistas were prepared and rolled into position nearby waiting for battle.

The Tamer and Sloth the Cave Cyclops were present and ready for battle.



The banner of their Highborn and of the Colony's was flown proudly. The Highborn were determined to fight bravely, but not foolishly. The Arch War Mage glowed slightly. He was ordered to protect the Highborn and other colonist from the tentacles and be prepared for a massive strike by the Mana crystal tipped bolts. His hand would help guide the Ballista to strike true.

The Prince inspected the Highborn troops assembled, before heading to the Arch Angel for blessings. The Prince would ask the guidance of the Arch Angel to defeat this foe. The Arch Angel had much wisdom in the art of war and against the pawns of the Mage Kings. This wisdom might be the advantage the Highborn needed to win the day. The Prince was curious if the way could be used to combat the Cave Fisher Mother.

The Prince knew from the studies of Dr. Flemming that striking the central nerve cluster in the abdomen behind the Thorax of the creature would paralyze it. The severing of the tie between the nerve clusters and the brain. The question lied, where was it exactly?

The Highborn Artificer and Engineer gave what advice they could to use the Ballistas most effectively. The Knowledge of poison and drugs developed by the Ratkin and Fox Folk were put into use on the tips of the Highborn arrows. Nothing was left to chance.

The air was crisp. The Highborn troops morale was high. They were confident in achieving victory, but were not cocky. This was not a foe one took lightly. All of the wisdom, the blessings of the Arch Angel would be needed this day.

Lindar the Bard played for the troops as they marched on...the time for battle was near.

 

[Beckoncall]

Note: These events are considered occurred before the battle against fisher-mother.

The Western Expedition, Library:

The Elven mage of Al-Turbansk, Mirinil -- wove their wards as the stoutmen already intrepidly began to pile through the breach in the window. The expedition as a whole followed, Attolian, Fennec and highborn in tow.

The ground floor of the Library was... virtually gone. On the other side of the window there was a mere cliff of wooden planks -- A criss-cross maze of ledges and islands of boards was all that remained of many levels above them, and seemingly into the darkness below. The structure of the building seemed to be held aloft soley by vast stone bookcases that doubled as pillars and super-structure for the Library -- which from the inside, especially with the massive voids of space -- seemed more like a cavern borne of a cathedral.

Far below nearly six stories down, glowing pits lined with librams, tomes and books of all kinds glowed... some magic had defended these depositories, even if the magics that ravaged the city had seemingly worked their devastation inside here as well. The bright light from those vaults flooded the inside of the structure with a dim red glow in the farthest reaches of it's darkness. This was no hold-fast or refuge -- this was just another charnal house, an altar of slaughter in a ruin full of such.

Strange leering lights seemed to hover at the edge of the wards -- claws of greenish gas pressed against the magical boundary, then withdrew. The only intact part of the structure seemed to be at the very east end -- where the building was made more of stone and steel then the wood inside that, while long gone outside the building, still clinged to some level of integration versus it's own decay.

Below, above, all around them longdead ambled -- most seemingly not to notice the newcomers. some scampered along the walls like insects or beneath beams high above their heads. Others, ghostly forms, seemed to mind and read the dusty remains of the endless volumes of ruination built into the pillars holding up the structure... seeing words and holding books that had long since turned to dust.

On the eastmost portions of the library two other things of note could be seen -- above the void into the deepest pits beneath the library, the tattered remains of a man seemed to be drawn as if to be quartered above the abyss below -- and amid the chittering, the creaking, the skittering of the ruined library around them alone and apart this being could be heard to weep.

This place was cursed. If movement was to be made inside this place, it could not be done with heavy armor for risk of bringing the interior down once and for all. Ropes, construction even -- would be required to navigate from island to island in this structure of howling wind.

The depositories at the bottom seemed to dare them with their light and promise... but something evil held this area as it's domain -- or many things.

And on the wind -- one thing only seemed clearly to whisper, from the dangling body of the damned one in chains.

"The gods themselves, however far, finally learned what we were doing. That is why they ended us."

It writhed against the fastness of it's chains, and in it's minute movements the expedition could see glimmers about the prisoners body...

It had been stabbed... countless times, with the weapons left within the hanging body as if tributes or monuments to the violence wrought upon him --

--the damned one was impaled with tears of divinity. at least three of them, of fire, of bone, of air, stuck trapped in his frame. Black blood spat from his lips as the chained one turned his head to the expedition.

"We were all killed by the gods, but none so literally as myself."

"Come take these knives and make them your toys as we once did... only loose me from these chains. I was meant to suffer forever... but must I?"


....The expedition was left to ponder their next courses of action, if not to flee outright...

 

[Spacekitty]

Crab Fettuccine
A full-fledge Fennec war party was taking shape. Sort of.

Chilly winter air hung about the rough, cobbled grass planes that laid above the Dwarves subterranean stronghold, clinging to the soldiers iron armor and biting through their cotton tunics. Some removed their gear, huddling around small campfires for warmth as the gathered parties waited. They chattered softly amongst themselves while the Highborn stood off to the side in formation, drilling under the watchful eyes of the Prince and the curt orders of the Drillmaster. All was orderly, quiet, reserved. Until suddenly...

BOOM. An earth shattering thud resounded in the chilly winter air and chunks of icy permafrost rained down from the sky. The resounding thud was followed by four more in quick succession, sending more chunks of frozen debri flying up into the air and raining down on the gathered parties. Each powerful blow shook the ground beneath them. The disturbances continued, drawing attention of the parties present who turned to see the five Fennec Trolls, armored in head to toe with iron plate mail bashing the ground with all their might. They raised their massive metal maces up in the air, smashing them down upon the frosty ground with all their might, giving just a second's break before raising their weapons once more and repeating the process. They grunted and roared as they labored, seemingly trying to dig a hole in the frozen dirt with their brute force.

A small, stocky and plainly dressed Fennec could be seen running up to the five behemoths, yelling up at them in an angry squeaky voice. The trolls ignored him, too absorbed in their act to notice such an insignificant creature, almost smashing him in the process. It wasn't until the fox threw a several stones at the nearest Troll’s bald slimy head that he was able to grab their attention.

“Sorry’ Bos, we just’ practicin’ killin’ da’ fishies is all. Smash like almost did to foxfolk! Haha!”

…

ORDERS: Sontio
5 Armored Trolls
6 Hitmen
15 Unskilled Workers
Illusionist Assassin
Scrape
Alcohol
Cages
Staff of Taming

SIDE MISSION: USE STAFF OF TAMING, CAGES AND FORCE TO CAPTURE SOME LIVE YOUNG CAVE FISHER FOR BREEDING AND HARVESTING PROGRAM.



Spooky Library (You missed Halloween Beck!)
The 6 hitmen watched the Stoutmen whom they had “joined” clumsily fumble with their grappling hooks with amusement, snickering and laughing outright at their comrades expense. They the produced their own grappling hooks, throwing them in unison at the windowsill- only to see them all four fall short, bouncing off the worn brickface with a clank. They stopped laughing.

Another attempt and they were hooked. They gave their lines a quick tug and then quickly scampered up the ruined library and leaped inside- landing precariously on the edge of the abyss that had become the library’s inside. They quickly scampered back against the wall, where the rotting stumps of floor boards still clung to life and provided an inviting ledge. They looked about in amazement at the nightmare world they found themselves into, their eyes instantly drawn to the glowing books strewn about the bottom of the abyss. Slowly, as their eyes grew adjusted to the dim lighting, they saw it… him… whoever he was. The damned one.

But they were not drawn so much to his grotesque punishment as they were to the items lof said punishment; or more so they're worth. Their eyes sparked at the sight of three tears piercing the creature’s torso, and the countless swords and daggers that perforated his figure. Instinctively they started forward to claim these treasures for themselves- but something stopped them. There were some things you just didn’t steal… Suddenly, this adventure didn’t seem so fun.

ORDERS: HITMEN LEAVE TO GO HELP WITH CAVEFISHER

 

[Bone2pick]

​

The banquet table closest to the great hearth was set and full. For more than an hour the Gewgaw nobles had sipped brandy and bathed in the hearth's firelight and warmth. Across the assembly hall, lurking and occasionally cackling in the shadows, was a pack of carnals. The eerie jesters positioned to protect their beautiful masters should it come to that.

"It's hard to imagine the colony needs our help to slay sewer squid," Amayi complained. The conversation had finally reached the reason they were gathered — the fisher infestation below the colony. Amayi, draped in black and silver fur, lounged like a tired cat inside her seat. Her chair may as well have been a throne in contrast to her pixie-sized body. As the daintiest one among her peers they had taken to calling her Floret. From the moment the nickname caught on she began decorating her hair with tiny flowers. Ollerrol, presiding over the meeting at one of the table ends, addressed her complaint.

"Colonial reports claim the fishers' "mother" has slithered its way up to the dwarves' underground doorstep. It also suggests her tentacles are colossal enough to break Muurdaan warships into splinters."

She emphasized the last sentence and studied the masked expressions of her company. A grim wind had seemingly blown through the hall and touched everyone—everyone but Kraucac. He merely smirked behind his faceplate. Ollerrol traded smiles with her Deputy and then tapped a ruby fingernail against the rim of her cup. A waiting servant quickly scampered over and refilled. The Party Master's cardinal feathered cloak was tossed over her chair; she was comfortable enough without it. Her curve-hugging red and black evening dress glistened with her every movement.

"If the reports prove to be true—even remotely so—it will be the deadliest predator our warriors have ever faced," Niruna eventually added. Masks nodded around the table. She was opposite Amayi, at the other hand of the Party Master, who had just turned and fallen into Kraucac's taunting gaze.

"Do I need to draw you a picture?" The Deputy asked. She scowled and then leaned back into her over-sized seat but many of the others chuckled. An ebony and gold masked noblewoman beside Kraucac spoke next.

"Are we all to march with the black parade then?" It was Honalu, her voice even more breathy than usual. Tufts of smoke floated from her painted lips as a smoldering slender pipe dangled from her right hand. Ollerrol shook her head.

"No, half of us will remain here. There are still critical projects throughout the village that require supervision. Niruna, Jaflag, and Deputy Kraucac and I will lead the black parade. Honalu, you will oversee the party in our absence."

When the names were announced one mask, in the likeness of a golden demon, cocked its head in disbelief. It was the faceplate of Zersal.

"You're sending Jaflag to battle and keeping me here? I am the more seasoned fighter; I request to march in his place."

"Request denied," the Deputy shot back. The answer landed so swiftly he must have predicted the protest from Zersal. "You helped secure the glass partnership with the Finecian, and we've just broken ground on the workshop. We need you to oversee its construction," Kraucac finished.

The two men stared fiercely at each other. Even the restless carnals across the hall stilled from the tension. Zersal eventually broke the standoff.

"If that's the reason Deputy, allow me to change my request... If memory serves me, I was partnered with you on the glass contract. So I ask to take your place in battle and let you oversee the workshop's construction. Surely we shouldn't risk losing both party leaders in combat?"

A whisper was uttered and a dove of living fire darted out of the hearth and over the banquet table. The elemental climbed up into the rafters and then flew through the pack of carnals. The jesters tumbled away and laughed maniacally, a few brandished their blades. But the flaming bird vanished and wisps of blue mana shimmered off of Ollerrol's party mask.

"Need I remind you Zersal that Deputy Master Kraucac is the ringleader of the carnals? They will need his tactics against the fishers. And because of our spellcraft Niruna and I are irreplaceable. Your request is denied."

Satisfied with the ruling, Kraucac hailed a servant and gestured towards his company's cups.

"We leave tomorrow, so enjoy the brandy tonight."

After his drink was refreshed Jaflag stood and hoisted his glass.

"Shall we toast?"

"To what?" Asked the Floret.

"To our imminent glorious victory," he offered. Niruna waved off the young Invited and then giggled.

"Imminent? Tomorrow might as well as be another lifetime. Tonight has my full attention," she explained as she gestured for Honalu's still lit pipe.

Kraucac, always ready to seize the moment, lifted his cup towards his companions.

"To tonight then, may it last a lifetime."

And with that everyone but Zersal toasted.

 

[Beckoncall]

The Expeditions east:

the mountains were not inviting territory even to those initiated with mountaineering. The trails upward, to the extent they can be called that -- often had hand-over-hand climbs, loose patches of scree, and daunting ledges to scale -- if one wished exploration to proceed.

The dwarves found promising veins for metal, minerals, and stones -- though these were mostly on under cliffs with daunting drops below. Where some cliffs rose they seem to have cored out pieces of the mountain... spires of rock, wracked by wind, with their own dark abysses howling beneath them. These promising vein-spires rose like daggers in the landscape -- and the trenches and pits beneath them were as of yet of depths unknown -- torches dropped vanished into the oblivion, as the search parties sought areas ever higher into the mountains...

Two other points of interest were located by intrepidity and good fortune -- the first was the glacier -- a charging, snaking wall of ice that had torn it's way, perhaps timelessly, down from the mountain pushing enormous piles of rocks and debris before it. amid the rubble pushed before it small bits of pitted metal lay hither and thither -- and to the most keen of eyes the shimmer of preserved metals lay strewn under and throughout the ice.

The other point of interest was almost completely missed, if not for the scouting abilities of the dwarves and elves working in the area together -- at first little more than a strange draft drew the expeditions to a place on the mountain -- where the stone grudgingly gave up it's secrets to the combined keen eyes and bold instincts of the explorers. A crack in the stone, starting high in the mountains -- looked like little more than a seam in the rock -- but when closer scrutinized, opened up into a wood-filled valley that seemed to cut deep and down into the mountain... dark and untamed woods they were, and from the heights the valley was discovered it seemed to grow into a canyon that stretched endlessly onward and downward -- even below sea level. parts of the canyon wood were eclipsed by rock arches far above, and in most other places the wild and ancient wood darkened the ground for itself. Hard and sharp leaves and needles piled on the floor of this canyon -- as if to suggest no part of it was inviting to the outsider, that even if there were few animals (a likely prospect if the cull was thorough) -- that the foliage was uninviting enough. Scouts did not go far into this valley -- The floor of the woods the valley opened to was chocked with veritable hills and walls of dead wood -- slick with green and yellow saps that screamed to the foresters to be poisonous -- so toxic in fact the wood did not rot away, and the wood seemed to be choking itself on it's own matter shed from the canopies. Deep within a red light seemed to glow in the canyon -- but it's true distance was elusive -- was it merely a trick of the light playing above? in other places rainbows fell where mist from the cold mountain air seemed to warm into a kind of mist that further obscured the valley.

Lastly, before turning back, two final passes went highest into the mountains -- one was a series of natural trails that seemed to break higher and higher through the very cloud-line of the skies where they seemed to open up and level off into some snowy tundra, and more forboding, some of the passes after rising seemed to descend around the lip of a crater -- a cinder-cone! The very head of one of these peaks, erupted long ago, was now a deep pit into a verdant valley obscured by it's own cloud cover and micro-climate -- steam from below turned the snowy land about the crater into a obscuring and seemingly perpetual cloudburst... the smells of a rainforest evident to the bravest explorers who sought forth before turning back to report.

Great opportunities for adventure and gainful enterprise seemed to whisper their promises from the mountains -- but moreso to whisper of secrets. More focused expeditions would need to be sent forth...

 

[Beckoncall]

COMING UP NEXT:

ENCOUNTER WITH FISHER MOTHER!

 

[Spacekitty]

Finecian Guild List for @Beckoncall

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

GROCERS GUILD - Water Plants, Fish, Mushrooms

BREWMASTERS GUILD - 3 Capo (Brewmaster, Mallowthew and Botanist), 5 skilled worker, 5 unskilled worker delegated, Ale, Wine, Beer, Potentially Mead and Honey based brews

PERFORMERS GUILD - 2 Capo (Sontio and Mallowthew) Ensures shows are going on time. 5 Unskilled Workers (To act as acrobats/parkourists/performers. They may not able to able to read, but their nimble, quick on their feet and totally graceful! 14, 19, 20x3 skill rolls). Indirectly provides entertainment via owning a venue, Blooming Lamb.

LUXURY GUILD - 2 Capo Delegated (Brewmaster, Jewelry), Honey, Amber, “Heaven’s Aroma”, Fish. 5 Skilled workers.

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

MAGES GUILD - 1 Capo Delegated (Illusionist)

INTELLIGENCE GUILD - 1 Capo Delegated (Master Assassin), 2 Hitmen

HEALERS GUILD - Sedative Poison (anesthetic)

 

[Beckoncall]

Everyone

"THE BATTLE OF FISHER MOTHER"



The dwarves let the full battle array down their impossibly deep stairway, the where the encased square-spiraling landings, seeming infinite, eventually reached the smallish aperture that opened into the enormous cavern of the cave fishers beyond.



It was dizzying for most non dwarf or elf to even descend the stairs – the near-dark, the endless turns, it challenged the balance and humors of mortals before they even reached the staging ground for their peril. Twice as the force marched downward the horrid slithering of great tentacles encasing the stairway could be heard, like great tounges on a straw in which they decended… the echoing of their peeling from the structure and the drip of swirling muck-like mucus and noisome suck. They heard far before seeing it the hideousness of that which lay before them.



Of all the things the dwarven staircase was of course, CRAMPED was not a descriptor – the entire task force – practically two-hundred strong – fit comfortably on two landings. Sirens, Halbardiers, masked killers, fennec acrobats – no murderers – it was hard to tell the difference, archers, spearmen, mages – dwarf elf, fox, human and stoutman, and more. Two great hydraulic armored suits with dwarven occupants, 4 crossbow ballistae, the largest inscribed “Beast-Feller” – side-bound with huge glowing ammunition.



The force, all told – consisted of An attolian detachment in full battle array, the dim light shining off polished steel and Steel-shod shields. Lead by Lord Caelis Wulf, He brought:

10 Halbardiers, more than a dozen dwarven warriors and elites,



The Al-Turbansk had a committed force of 20 elven rangers, all dual wielding weapons of light metals and exquisite craft.



The stouts had a relatively light contingent of 10 of their own halbardiers, but they towered above the common man and their halfbards were justly longer when they stood amoung Caelis' Polemen – separate they were two pockets of troops, but together they were a REGIMENT.



Towering above even the polearms were Sontio the fennec's five armored trolls – Giant weapons of their own… each stood dump as dung but drooling with the immanence of violence sought. Before the trolls, stood Sloth – a giant Cave Cyclops – trained by the highborn as an engine of death. Not being able to hold formation these forces were pushed to the front and side.



Taking their own flank were the languid and strangely aloof Gew Gaw Forces – the grim, pitted and scarred black parade in their fearsome getups – each one of them looking like a battlefield of their own. Leading them were 8 Carnals of dagger and cutlass – masked killers all with faces leering in an evil that came from BEHIND their war-masks – on the staging area, they broke ranks and stood with the mages. Kraucac and Jaf'lag were thought to take defense of the mages but laughing they took their place with their troops – Jaf'lag tapped his blades unconsciously against his calves – Kraucac yawned – If his would-be contestant had something to prove he would not let it distract him. Jaf'lag was relagated to rearguard and in defense of mages and command folk but it was doubtful he'd find no reason to get stuck in. Maybe there was a laugh to be had in Jaflag getting himself killed, but Kraucac put it out of his head for the moment.

Amid the Highborn were a handful of swordmasters who prepared to weald around the spearmen who joined the human polearm regiment, with a unit of archers behind them. The fennec figuring where bows are hand to hand isn't, reflexively moved into tandem there, and cocked and loaded their crossbows and other instruments of skullduggery. Hither and thither the Carnals flashed their chain-whip-swords to sever masses of tentacles, and in reply the black parade would prepare to rush into the thick of the blood when that be.

At the very front were the firebeards themselves, with Grimdr himself commanding them. Caelis, Prince Vaethorion and their tacticians stood anchoring the rearguard, as the firebeards formed their forward wall. Directly behind them were dwarven rangers – ready to risk all for the kill on the fisher mother.

SKRAPE, a deadly poison and waste product the fennec used, was offered freely, and taken as it was proven to lock up the nervous systems of cave fishers. Most of the army took it as offered. Armor was treated with alcohol to dissolve fisher adhesive, though it was a fright to carry a torch under such circumstances – luckily the army had three high mages – and if lightning wasn't the first thing that came to mind when a high mage took the field, it was light itself – with a mind to anti-magic after that.

Behind all this the Firebeard homeguard prepared to offer logistics, help off the field, and rearguard defense. The stage was set, and with it, the dwarves activated charges that blew open the corner of the staircase where the army stood assembled and spied into the cavernous environment beyond.



Caelis signaled his sirens who blew as one into the great horn they brought down onto the field – and that was the charge…. The Turbansk and highborn mages FLOODED the cavern with light which for a moment gave everyone, troops and fishers alike – a pause of shock. THE FLAT AND UNHOLY IMMENSENESS OF THE FISHER MOTHER WAS REVEALED AT ONCE IN THIS MOMENT, it's simple eyes slamming shut with some kind of armored membrane… she was as tall as the cavern itself, with her rear bulk sagging on the ground and her giant claws so long lodged in the cavern ceiling the mineral rock had enclosed around them.

Fear would have rocked the army at the sheer anti-majesty of the monster – and the grim reality of what was hundreds if not thousands of fishers breeding and eating voraciously in a perfect ecosystem for ages – But the GewGaws wielded Eromancy – the magic of passions. Elves and dwarves feared not, but the hearts of men, fennec, and yes even trolls was tested – Ollerrol closed her fist around the hearts of these spirits, and forced them to find their courage… and whipping her own troops into nothing shorter than an absolute lust for slaughter.



Tentacles were everywhere. The Siren horn rang like a dinner bell, and fishers lashed out from both near and far, scampering from every pit, every crack, and every hole. Where shadows were cast above lines of silk began to fall and be cast across the cavern at the breach… many larger fishers simply threw themselves at what they apparently percieved as a particularly spirited meal.



Fennec with barrel-pumps hosed concentrations of fishers, and dwarven rangers, capitalizing on this, with precision blew them up and sent them alight. Then Sontio the fennec boss waved high a wand of animal control just as Cassandra channelled the full measure of her power into the torc of compulsion that the Attolians had taken from the horned one himself. Unseen, sontios hitmen read their orders in the gestures of his wand-work, and giggled with gallows courage, vanishing into darkness.



In that instant, not 30 feet from the front, the horde of fishers turned on itself – countless fishers fought now for their would-be invaders, and the fishers, cannibals all – had minds too simple to acknowledge the difference.

The rangers had begun their attack run – moving over the difficult ground with all speed, cutting at tentacles and whirling silk ever more than they did against the fishers that clamoured past them.

The fishers crashed into the front line of the dwarves and several dozen leaped directly over it. Those fishers that hit the front line were initially slaughtered by the firebeards and the whirling storm of Turbansk blades that flew above their heads -- for those that fell behind them and out of reach of the halbardiers -- the bodyguard of the invited performed thier dance of death,.. and while many of the more agile landed on a thicket of spears and halbreds, the swordmasters cutting the bulks of the creatures into lopped and falling chunks so the polearms could reset themselves -- Arrows and crossbow bolts flew over the formation – causing leaping and swinging fishers to crash and tumble before reaching the formation, turned on by hungry ally as well as brainwashed enemy cave fishers alike. Here and there, troops were snared and pulled into the cavern – and the more cunning fishers began to mass behind the larger stalagmites and pillars of the cave and fight from range.

The Highborn tamer dropped a silk hankerchief and the Cave Cyclops was loosed upon them – stepping over the dwarven line in their own natural gait, the line opened briefly to allow the massive armored trolls to follow behind. “Sloth” the cyclops swung his massive axe at one of these pillars – thankfully not destabilizing the cavern and bringing everything down upon everyone's heads – in truth, it was only firebeard engineering that saved all from this calamity, as the staircase was built to support the ceiling of this cavern as an extension of it's form and function.

The result was the same… a mass of fishers fighting from range were buried alive, or more likely dead, by tons of rock.

The high mages threw up magical shields of force on the massed troops at the front, and cast ennervating energies on their weapons. Bloodscourge belched forth guided balls of burning ichor – which cut through waves of cast filaments and exploded deep in the cavern. The cavern looked like a whorl of tentacles there were so many fishers brought like moths to the light… and the fisher mother finally responded on her own by casting her massive feeder-tentacles out from her proboscis – one flying high above the battlefield the other snaking along the ground.

Fennec immediately hosed the airward tentacle with a wave of alcohol – and for a moment the tentacle reeled in the sunless sky.

THAT is when the beast-killer ballista, and it's smaller counterparts – were fired.

The high elf and dwarven tactician had aimed and calibrated the siege weapons themselves – and the bolts flew true with fearsome accuracy – the airborn tentacle was skewered by the freezing bolt – nailing the deadly limb – as wide as a line of carraiges – back onto the creature near it's nerve center – but missing a true killing blow. The air turned to frost for yards around the site of impact and the tentacle BROKE ITSELF writhing with agony falling like a spasmodic serpent crushing mindlessly disconnected from the fisher mother. By now the dwarven rangers had reached the far side of the cavern, and stopped for a moment to run alongside the whipping thing butterflying it with their great axes like a bloated sausage. The heroic show brought the thing to twitching stillness, but flattened dozens of fishers and a ranger in the process.

The lesser ballista shots coursed at the fisher-mother, and the ground-based tentacle – seemingly relexively, snatched one of the missiles from the air. The other two hit and caused gushing wounds in the creature – but the ground tentacle WHIPPED it's captured missile at the center of the colony's formation – SMASHING two stoutmen, 3 highborn archers, and a swordsmaster.

The Dwarven steam-suits waded on after the trolls and cyclops, and the stink of dead fisher became overpowering. Few died on the line of the attackers – but those unfortunate enough to become webbed in filaments were pulled airward – draped in additional silks as they arced airborne and were ripped in half or quartered by the hungry beasts. Five Fennec died in this manner before they adapted to the animals tacics, and the swordsmasters turned their attention to the larger concentrations of filaments. Here and there, a halbardier, an archer – pulled straight up or out into the void met their fate to the fishers – but the fishers piled so high around them they began to slow their advance…



...There was too much food on the field… it made fishers hesitant and many slowly pulled other dead fishers away for a meal rather than throw themselves at the formation. Three Dwarven warriors were SMASHED TO BITS by the seething tentacle before a charge from the halbardiers caused it to be perforated so badly it could not move at it's tip so ably as it did pump the fisher-mother's life-blood out as if in answer to the hoses of alcohol. Illusionary forces scattered the remaining concentrations of fishers – or Cassandra had them exploded with the help of wicked fusilades of elven high-magic.



The Dwarven rangers were climbing the far side of the cavern now – and the elite war mage of the highborn cast spells to strike out at what fishers they had to pass.



The cyclops and Trolls attacked the reeling second tentacle, and the lesser ballistae fired a second time nailing this tentacle too, to the back of the cavern… still loading was the beast-feller… this time with the great bolt of flame.



HOLD TH E LINE! – Screamed Caelis to his forces, and at the same time Prince Vaethorion sang his orders to his own troops. It was from here you could see the black parade come into their own – flashing from in and out of the protection of the polearms to kill any fisher that landed nearby before it was prepared to ready itself again for another attack.

Climbing past the dwarven rangers were a handful of fennec hitmen… giggling as they RAINED braces of pistols into the faces of larger fishers. “MAKE A HOLE!” Sontio had ordered them – and the dwarven rangers proceeded with their plan…



It rained death, and in that moment, death reigned… but the fury of the lesser fishers was slaked – being dumb animals after all. The surviving controlled fishers were ordered to first pull back to the block of defenders, then when attacks petered out as far out as the trolls – they were ordered into cages by Sontio who had his own plans for them…

The fisher mother finally opened it's eyes, and the roof of the cavern shook as it began to attempt to free it's massive foreclaws. The cavern FELT unstable, and if not for the strength of command and GeeGaw Eromancy – perhaps the attackers would have broke and run after all. It was in this moment that tireless efforts to make contact with it finally succeeded...



“YESSSSSS…. END. MY. MIND.”



That is what the fisher mother said as it roared over the cavern.



...and it was in that moment that the dwarven rangers – backpacks tied into a giant mass, swung the improvised munition like a Bola into the mouth of the beast.

Moments later, fennec hitmen RAINED foxtails (burning bottles of alcohol) into the roaring mouth of the beast and onto the whirling backpacks.

At the same instant – the Beast-feller was fired – aimed flawlessly at center-mass of it's target.



FISHER MOTHER EXPLODED.



There was naught much more to say about that. Her death scream, cut short by the rumbling blasts – sent every remaining fisher scuttling for cover.



The dwarves at the front of the line had to render fishers apart to see past at potential adversaries… until they could find none… the trolls and the cyclops were called back. The Fennec hitmen, and two surviving dwarven rangers fell back to the formation – nearly everyone was covered in webbing and tentacles… they had no time even to count the lost or the fallen before…



THE DAGON APPEARED. While nowhere near as big as fisher mother, the thing reeled from a watery cave into the cavern a full four stories tall. Blue, with the scales of a fish and gills lined with bio-luminescent glands. In two swift motions it's semi-bipedal mass leaped like a great ape to the shattered body of fisher-mother, and began to feed on it.... it's pythonic mouth stretching over huge masses and pulling it distendingly inward on waves of needle-like saber-teeth...


“LEAVE” it seemed to bellow pisonically – unheard but heard by all. “FISHER MOTHER BELONG TO ABOLETH NOW.”


The army had to decide if the supposed demigod agent of the ageless Aboleth was worth fighting now...


(DESCISION POINT)...

 

[Shireling]

Stoutman Turn

Detailed Orders:

1. Two Clergy and ten Bulwarks remain on an expedition in the Western Ruins.

2. 5 Draftstouts and 10 Stalwarts maintain the hunting lodge in the eastern woodland

3. 5 Draftstouts and 30 Stalwarts complete their contract with the New World Trading Company (contract
expires this turn)

4. The 25-Stalwart and 4 Draftstout work crew that was constructing the Church is joined by 5 more Stalwarts who have finished the pallisade wall.

5. 2 Clergymen continue to teach lessons, now headquartering their operations out of a small one-room
cabin that has been repurposed as a schoolhouse

6. 4 Clergymen go into the city and appeal to donors to begin constructing a building that would function as a
school for all the people of the colony and a theological seminary for all faiths, to be built on the Platz

7. 2 Clergymen continue to perform rites and holy functions, and begin hiring out their services as alchemists and healers in the colony.

8. A small force of fifteen Stalvarts and four Draftstouts begin building a road that wI'll connect New Harmony to Stonewood Bridge and from there to the Platz and Learner's Square.

9. Ten Stalwarts and two Draftstouts continue to function as sheriffs and patrol the wall.

10. Ten Bulwarks continue to be pledged to the Common Defense

11. The Bulwarks surviving from the battle with Fisher Mother advocate a tactical retreat


Total Unit Count:

Clergy-10

Draftstouts-20

Stalwarts-90

Bulwarks- 20(10) (casualties not calculated from battle)


Decision Point: The Library

Reverend Kearney approached the odd figure after staring down into the abyss of the crumbling library below. He was suspended above the eastern part of the library at a spot where the floor had given way. His soldiers stood back amazed and somewhat unsettled, watching the longdead amble and slither about them.

"I 'm not here to seek magical power, stranger. Only tell me if, within these library walls, there is a way to reason with the swarm known as the Cull. If you tell me and tell me truthfully, I will loose your chains." Said Kearney in earnest to the unfortunate man. He looked down at the glowing tomes below and shuddered before looking back up at the dangling man.

"You must tell me, or hundreds will die. Even little children. Is there a way to stop the Cull?"



Decision Point: The Fisher Caverns

The Bulwark sergeant dragged himself towards his men with a limp, using his halberd as an impromptu cane for stability. Behind him towered the Dagon, as horrible as ever the Fisher Mother was. His men quailed and seemed frozen in horror as some of the other races began retreating back up the stairs. The sergeant and his remaining men ambled up in the rear behind the other retreating races, repeating laments for the plight of the Dwarves.



Municipal and Government Actions


By decree of the Provisional Government of New Harmony (the Stouts' internal government) all Stouts are forbidden from gambling in the gambling halls of the colony and must travel in groups of at least two when outside of the city walls at all times, for their own personal safety.

Laws around food rationing have been relaxed to a small degree and villagers are again permitted to keep food in their homes for the impending celebration of the New Year.

Stouts are encouraged to keep their own gardens and any who pledge to do so can expect a monetary reward come time for spring planting.

Stout leaders begin negotiations with the New World Trading Company to use the Anathema as a trade ship, while still retaining it under Stout ownership.​

 

[Spacekitty]

1. The remainder of the Fisher Mother Expeditionary Force is ordered to conduct a full tactical retreat, liberally using Foxtails to create walls of fire to secure the retreat and minimize losses while the caged Fishers are transported to the services. The hitmen will target Fishers on the cave ceiling trying to “fish” for Fennecs.
(10 Thugs, 6 hitmen, 1 Capo Master Assassin, 1 Capo Sontio, 5 Armored Trolls)

2. With the rise of the Theater District as a site of high class entertainment, the Fennec and Tyren must invest more into Harun’Taras in order to compete. This begins with the construction of an arena, where Tyren Warriors can display their fighting prowess in wrestling matches, duels and even small team skirmishes. Wood Elf Musicians can woo audiences, Finecian Acrobats can impress the masses and sports and other events can draw people to the north. The Arena will be (obviously), multifunctional, consisting of a well sized smoothed dirt arena surrounded by temporary wooden seating with stone foundations set for future improvement. Concession stands will be set up within the arena. Stone will be procured from the Dwarves/Market, and wood from the Market or from locla forests as needed. Mobile (likely wheeled) wooden stages will be constructed that can be moved in and out of the arena as needed for different performances.
(20 Stalwarts and 5 Draftstouts. (20 unskilled, 5 skilled), 5 skilled Fennecs, 1 Trolls, 1 Capo (Mallowthew))

The Tyren and Wood Elves are invited to help with the project, both in this phase and the later phases. The GewGaws, having expressed interest in constructing an arena, are invited to participate in Phase 2 of the Arena construction and co-own the building. Bone2pick

3. The production of beer and other Finecian goods in the Excavation and then transporting them all the way down to Harun’Taras, the Platz and the Theater district is highly inefficient. The Company needs to move its production centers closer to market. Therefore, the company will begin this transition by constructing a large brewing facility in Harun’Taras, as an addition to the Blooming Lamb to allow for fresh brews, house speciality brews and open access to wine and booze cellars for patrons to enhance the appeal, feel and style of the area. The wine/beer cellars will be open and connected to the Tavern to serve as additional seating and enhance the style and feel. The large scale brewing and production facility will be designed and built with style and beauty in mind, as to not be an eyesore in the town, rather to be a point of beauty in the town. Local Wood Elf artisans are invited to come help ensure the new addition is not only up to the standards of the town, but will be an eye catching jewel in the center of town! 3 Influence spent to attract them. 1 wealth spent in construction.
(10 Stalwarts, 14 Unskilled Fennecs, 10 skilled Fennecs, 1 Capo (Master Brewer), 1 Capo (Master Jewler), 2 Trolls 1 wealth. 3 Influence spent to attract Wood Elf Artisans.)

4. The Company needs to secure a foothold in the Theater District. Building off of the synergy already present between the Highborn and Finecian investments and the Highborns Casino, the Fennec will provide said Casino with proper drinks by building the Districts first bar, designed to compliment the high end vibe the Highborn had in mind for the area.
(20 Skilled Fennecs) Prince Vaethorion

5. Hiring contracted day laborers! Laborers who agree to sign a work contract with the New World Trade Company will receive set weekly hours, pay increasing with every contract renewal (contracts last 1 season or more) and FREE housing in the New Finecian-District of Harun’Taras. Workers who sign longer contracts will receive additional benefits such as vacation time and better housing. 3 influence is spent to advertise the program, especially to workers living in poor areas/slums as a chance to better their lives through better work, better pay and better conditions. (Most benefit comes from good free housing in a prime location, pay is somewhat above average
3 INFLEUNCE SPENT

6. 1 Wealth is removed from the market to fund building projects.

7. 2 Trolls supervised by Sontio help the Stoutmen build a road Shireling
(2 trolls, 1 capo)

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Caelis watched incredulously as the Fennec threw liberal amounts of foxtails around. If that wasn't an aggressive action... regardless. Their mission was done for now. They had to regroup and deal with this issue at a later time when they had the time to assess the situation. Although, the Dagon's rather cowardly actions left a bad taste in his mouth... the group wasn't ready to fight another godling again. Caelis yelled out his orders "Halberdiers! Controlled withdrawal!" "Dwarves! Get any injured, dead and useful things and fall back!" This was a rather specific order for the Attolian military. It indicated that the halberdiers serve as the rear guard in a spear wall formation, ready to deal with any pursuit of the main force and slowly fallback while maintaining that formation. Caelis then turned to Cassandra and said "Whatever fishers you have control of. Direct them to stave off the other fishers if they attack and support the halberdiers. We need time!" Then at the very rear of the group were the few sirens. Where he yelled "If the Dagon attacks us, then aim the horn at him. I want him deafened!"

(Orders will follow once last round is completely processed)

 

[Beckoncall]

"PLATZ - TO - TARAS GAZETTE"

WINTER FESTIVAL SHUT DOWN AMID FOOD RIOT!

Certain demographics feeling the sting of food scarcity in the 'Platz have become up in arms over the fennec's "Reckless" Winter festival... mobs were dispersed without extreme violence, but public opinion of the fennec is becoming increasingly polemisized as many folk regard them "Too reckless and fun-loving for what is appearing to be a harsher winter coming."

Journalists blamed of inciting a negative view of fennec festivities stuck to their convictions or were otherwise unavailable for comment.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

STOUTMEN RELEASE SOULS OF GHOST CHILDREN -- NOT ALL PASS ON

Stalwart priests exploring in the Western Ruins released a great deal of unrestful souls enabling them to pass on to the next world -- sadly, either a lack of concerted clerical power or the confusion and ties to the prime material plane has led to unforseen consequences... the new Attolian founded orphanage, and areas of learners square have become haunted by the souls of lost children who believe they are still alive.

Some call for mass exorcism of all school buildings to drive out the spirits, with other voices, including the twiceborn, seeking rehabilitation of the lost child spirits and inducting them as new members of the colony. There are reports of at least three dozen "Child Wraiths" wandering places of learning in the colony, with more potentially to arrive from the ruin if things progress unveered.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

[Beckoncall]

Shireling :

"I 'm not here to seek magical power, stranger. Only tell me if, within these library walls, there is a way to reason with the swarm known as the Cull. If you tell me and tell me truthfully, I will loose your chains." Said Kearney in earnest to the unfortunate man. He looked down at the glowing tomes below and shuddered before looking back up at the dangling man.

"You must tell me, or hundreds will die. Even little children. Is there a way to stop the Cull?"

--

The cursed man shivered in his hanging bondage. "The Cull" -- It was something I read about... just another toy from Tartarus before the wars broke out. Yes, I know something about the cull. You cannot reason with it any more than you can reason with a stomach -- that is what the Cull is, with everything else stripped away -- a stomach designed to fit a world inside.

You cannot reason with a stomach, but you can keep it quiet and unrumbling if you keep it filled. If there is a way to reason with the cull it is by preparing an altar and offering 100 livestock each season to glut itself upon... symbols hovered in the air around the damned person swinging in the chains.

"Use these sigils -- and leave the offerings live for the taking. Do not have any people in the vicinity of the offering unless you have run out of livestock and need to sacrifice each other. I hope my answer is worthy of my freedom... break my chains and allow me to break in the pits below. Take these fragment tears of divinity first if you must -- but know they, in the end, did not bring but destruction to our civilization."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

[Beckoncall]

The retreat from the cavern of the departed fisher mother:

With fire and steel the troops withdrew --

Losses were counted at:

Attolians: 1 halbardier, 3 dwarven warriors

Stoutmen: 2 halbardiers

Al-Turbansk- 2 eleven rangers

GewGaw Party - No losses

Fennec: 2 hitmen, 5 unskilled workers

Highborn: 1 Swordsmaster, 3 archers, 3 spearmen

Firebeards: 2 Deep rangers, 5 skilled warriors


Spoils: 60 Cave fishers, either caged or magically compelled, were taken captive. Fisher mother and cave fisher casualties lay in the hundreds.


The Retreat was a success... The Abyssal jaws of the Dagon gorged on fisher mother as the cave fishers that remained uncaptured or unslain fed on their own dead. Firebeard reserves, screened by trolls and the cave cyclops were able to recover at least parts if not the whole body of almost all the casualties so they could be given befitting burial.

The Dagon did not take offense to the rearguard flames the fennec rose up to cover the army's withdrawal... it's blind eyes showed a near lustful relish as it gorged on the remains of the soft flesh inside the carapace of the great fisher. It spoke with it's mind again...

"Aboleth concedes this part of his kingdom in recognition of the service you have done for them. Aboleth is pleased. You will not see me here again, unless you have sought to anger him. One more thing -- worship of Aboleth in your community would be rewarded. Lack of supplication to the ultimate titan... shall be frowned upon."

The army fell back. The underground once again undisputedly belonged to the dwarves -- but it was paid for in blood.

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

The Falconer's ears perked when the damned man spoke. Clearly, here was someone who at least claimed to know of ancient knowledge... knowledge of these lands before the end. Surely, it must know of the history of Berytos. "Suffering One. Will you not impart some more knowledge with us so that we may avoid such terrible fates? What has befallen this grand city of Berytos? There are dozens of godlings around here. Divine, magical and dangerous beings and artifacts. Will you tell us more? Help the future and seek redemption and peace in your suffering. There must have been a purpose for this fate. The Neird, the Drowning One, the Horned One, the Green Goddess, the Blood Fountain. Are they to be trusted?"

 

[Beckoncall]

FENNEC AND HIGHBORN/ATTOLIAN SHIPS ARRIVE IN NEW WORLD!

Heyitsjiwon Prince Vaethorion Spacekitty -- Please choose whether you would like these events handled in Discord chat or I can put forward a forum post. (Chats will be migrated and converted into posts)