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

And Ummush sighed.

Blood and bone in his hands, raging blood spirit ranting inside his soul and through all that he turned to the impatient little human lord. If this Caelis bothered to look beyond himself for a moment and tried to read the expressions a Tyren face could make he would see something Ummush guessed was very familiar to him. He would see an old scholar and teacher looking at him with tired frustration.

"You just couldn't... wait a moment... could you?" And Ummush sighed.

Then he crushed the broken pieces of skull between his hands just to be certain the job was done, because even an elderly minotaur could call on that kind of strength.

'The impatience of humans.' He cursed to himself. They didn't even have the decency to let their elder spring his own trap. This wasn't how Ummush had hoped things would go but he could work with it at least.

"Boys!" He brayed, as best his voice could and turned to his coven. These three had spent most of their lives around each other and at least between this coven there needn't be any words for understanding.

Shul with his spirit speech and smokes. With a mind that could see beyond his small frame and though not as powerful as his peers he had learned to marshal powers of confusion and subtle touches against spirits that would dare to hurt them.

Bruul with his punch magic, too physical to be brought to fight this threat but combined with the spells Ummush had allowed him to trace from him before this affair he too could bring a warrior's strength to the spiritual plane.

An Ummush himself, the ace up their sleeve. Of course they couldn't have known but it irked him that the one's to strengthen this thing in the first place couldn't at least show a little decency and faith to all those that had warned them against their deeds. They didn't know that Ummush had spent several lifetimes strengthening his own spirit and learning the arts needed to deal with the unseen things of the earth. They didn't know that he had long ago stopped being a creature of flesh and blood, something the spirit was just learning as it nestled into his body and found far less to work with than it had in Cassandra. That now he could marshal that blood magic himself and feel only a feint pull compared to the tight reigns she had been put under. Neither they or the spirit knew that Ummush had taken many spirits into himself in the past and won private battles such as this.

That had been the entire point of this! Thinking itself secure in an avatar the spirit of the fountain had shared its power, thinking that his avatar's life was now bound to it. The spirit did not know that Ummush was long dead already.

So the native rings of the Black-Charger Caravan came together with the ease of dancers who had gone through this ritual countless times. They marshaled and combined their powers of spirit, might, and now blood in chants and charms. And they aimed it all at the blood fountain spirit like a hoof to the head!

"So impatient." Ummush tutted, shaking his hooded head at the human lord and with a frail hand he motioned for him to lower that cursed tear.

Then he brayed as he had not in a long time and the hoof fell.
 
Triton ordered one more expedition to Sunken Shoals, comprising of every spare worker on hand, himself, and the entirety of marines, to extensively explore the caves and to gather all available food and notable resources found there so far, leaving the warriors and experts for now to their assigned duties and instructing the two agriculturalists to study the uses of and further disseminate the samples of plantlife previous parties have brought back to the underwater colony.

Thirty skilled workers, Triton, and six marines depart for Sunken Shoals to explore and gather within the area.

Two agriculturalists study and encourage the growth of available local fauna samples.
 
The High cleric examined the skeletons and "miscreated" to learn of the threats they posed. The skeletons the Attolians used were not true undead, they were more akin to puppets, or constructs -- animated bones with no spirit to speak of. Morbid? Definitely. Blackest Magic? Hardly, surprisingly.

The Highborn were satisfied that the Attolian constructs were not in violation of laws of decency. The Fennec were a different matter. They were of a objectionable sort. Discussions were had as to whether they should be destroyed, However, the “transcendent” one would be reached out to by the Highborn Cleric and Arch Mage. The innocent one if pure would be rescued from the Black Doctors. It could be perhaps brought to the Haranturas for safety. The Tyren and Attolian backing for this would be sought. Fennec would be reasoned with. If their creations are deemed unsafe to the Colony then such creatures must be reigned in. Perhaps destroyed. Such low creatures were unwelcome in the Colony and this was a popular held belief among colonist,

The Highborn inventor and engineer sre extremely excited by the “White Engine” project. The Highborn would invest 5 wealth to start the project. Mana crystals and the special Highborn coal would be modified as a fuel source to power the engine. The applications of an engine powered by mana with gears inscribed with runes were virtually unlimited.

Inventor is assigned 10 skilled and 20 unskilled and five wealth is put to begin with.

The Highborn knew of Gnomish and Dwarven technology that utilized such power. For example, in their mines they had cars running on tracks, This made the mines far more efficient.

The Highborn realized how this sort of technology would propel the Colony to great heights. A tracked system propelled by the steam engine would alter how the Colony moved goods around. Rough Schematics were drawn up. They would be presented to the Attolians and Firebrand. In the meantime a short stretch of track and a car was built with wheels to run on it. A means to propel this car by steam would be worked upon but in the meantime carts were pulled on tracks by runners.

Order: Highborn Engineer lay down track from the port area entrance depression to the market into the Highborn district into theater District. This is meant as a prototype for more vast transport system For goods and passengers. Two bull iron tracks with carts with wheels. An engine would need to be adapted to propel them but in the meantime runners would pull the carts for passengers and cargo. The initial cart and track will be designed to make goods get to the market and ships more efficiently.

Order:

Engineer, five skilled and 20 unskilled
Build first stretch of a rail based transportation system. Cars powered by Steam Engines is the ultimate goal. For this collaboration is sought from Attolians and Firebrand.



The Highborn sent their Tactician, 10 Elite Spearman, 10 Swordmasters, and 10 Archers, to aid in clearing and exploring the Menagerie district. -- they were unable to link up with the firebeards and tyren, and end up tracking the Manticore.

Order:

Track Manticore
The Highborn High Cleric do not want to see the Demon remaining in the Colony. It must be banished or destroyed. The Highborn High Cleric will work with others who want to banish the Demon.

Order: Highborn High Cleric helps banish Demon
 
The Highborn High Cleric is faintly glowing in silver light, in flowing silver robes covering the purest, finest mithril chainmail. Chainmail so fine that it was wrought by the hands of pure Highborn children. Every child from a Highborn noble family deemed pure enough wrought a link for this Chainmail suit to signify the unity of the Highborn and their perfection as a race. On every mithril chain-link was an incantation written with arcane handwriting so fine that a human eye would be unable to read nor would it understand the ancient elvish script in any case. The chains served more than just a weave of incantations. Each link possessed a very powerful blessing of protection from Dark forces.

The links served To protect the souls of those the Clerics protected. . The incantations were oaths to goodness, purity to the essence of Highborn Elves, and the stars. They served to prevent corruption.

The knowledge The High Cleric had in healing the Highborn and in protecting the Highborn Clerics and their flocks against dark magic, blood magic, Demons and possession. The Highborn High Cleric is calm. He is inwardly disgusted by the fountains. He always has been. He thought the mortals to be foolish. Making deals with the devil as they say is never a smart idea.

The sworn enemies of the Highborn used all kinds of foul sorcery, blood magic, Demon summoning and the Highborn have battled Dark magic for millennia. It’s what they do.

The Highborn were determined to see this evil being banished from the same plane of existence as they were on. The Demon remaining in the Colony was not an acceptable option. The Highborn High Cleric would stand by for now as he knew Caelis’ and Cassandra’s souls were at stake. The Prince ordered a light hand until the Tyren and Attolians gave the signal to use more forceful means like an excorcist.

“NO TRICkS DEMON!” The Highborn High Cleric intoned. His voice sounded clear and beautiful like a bell chiming and almost seemed to come from the sky.
 
A fate of demons...

The vessel had been crushed in a single blow by the Attolian Lord -- the blood demon, naked and without defense appeared little more than a wisp of red smoke that hung in the air.

The witches chanted their geases of binding, and the highborn cleric had made his decree.

"My Avatar! My new Avatar! You cannot dispel me! Not this easily!" The demon shrieked.

But there was no blood in the bone and fecund frame of his new host... Ummush's robes pulsed and beat, but only briefly, as the demon could find no blood within the new frame he sought to control.

The full host of mages were banishing him now. His own blood crystalized on the bones of Ummush, and what was brought forth away from the Shaman of the first ring more resembled a puff of steam than a cloud of bloody mist...

"NO! NO! BELIEF WILL SUSTAIN ME!"

"Perhaps in the next realm, Qlippoth -- but not in this one!" Sir Lothar struck this time, with a holy spear of shimmering luminescence.

Ummush held tight the power of the demon that once resided inside him -- it threatened to draw him away with it, into Oblivion. Bruul, remembering ummush's teachings, grounded his soul and his "mortal" frame in place. The red color ran out of the fountains... and in a gesture of the hand the highborn cleric blessed the WATER than now resided in them.

"TRAITORS! TREACHERERS! You who would massacre a god for the sake of a girl! This is impossible! The PLATZ IS MINE!"

The shadowy wings of an angel engulfed the tiny writhing soul of the demon... burned white, and then whiter, until all turned their eyes away.

"THE TIME FOR JUDGEMENT HAS COME, DEMON -- YOUR SIBLINGS AWAIT YOU IN ENDLESS DOLDRUM IN THE HELLS!" The disembodied voice of the Highborn Planetar seemed to bellow from all around.

"I was to be huge! I was to flatten you all for your insolence! I was..."

"Indeed you were," interrupted Ummush" Bruul's heavy fists still hard on his shoulders, as if grounding him... grounding his spirit.

Then Cassandra crashed into the assemblage.

"My Master! My powers are largely undone! Caelis, Who has betrayed you!? May I die protecting the unfallen lord!"

Then she slid down the staff bloodscourge and lost consciousness. For the first time since her transformation -- Caelis saw the girl tremble.

That is when Caelis crumpled into a heap. In his mind's eye he saw that he was saved from the mortal blows dealt to him on the field of the battles of mud-elf aggression... wounds that the demon had reflected for him, suddenly came flashing back to him. Caelis moved not an inch, but felt as if he did when he was indeed flung across a battlefield. Caelis collapsed and blood issued in pools from the joints in his armor. Who could survive such force and such witchcraft!? Lothar ran to his side... Caelis' breathing was a labored echo within the depths of his helm.

The demon was defeated... power had been taken from Cassandra, and perhaps the very life from Lord Caelis.

On the other hand, an odd new life began to stir inside of Ummush, and even with Bruul using what he had mirrored in spirit magic he did his best to keep the eldest shaman in place. Ummush's form was revealed to all -- that of a barely-sinewed skeleton, mummified in the wrappings of a thousand tiny flowering vines. From where his bones showed, especially on his grey and pitted skull, crystalized blood shone like rubies.

Ummush must make a choice -- to fashion the blood stolen from the demon into a weapon of his arsenal, or in this moment, use it to grant himself new life... new mortal life.

And thus was Caelis laid at the brink of death and Ummush pushed before the gates of life... The Qlippoth had been defeated by overpowering assemblage of magic against it.

But decisions had to be made and quickly.... could Ummush live again? Could Caelis Survive?
 
"GET THE DOCTOR! We must get Caelis to the Healer's Guild!" Lothar barked orders to those who stood nearby. Gone was any sense of victory or joy. Caelis awaited by death's doorsteps. Moments later, Caelis was brought to the Healer's Guild where the Attolian experts were called to. The Doctor silently examined Caelis' state with a grim face. It would take a miracle to heal him... fate seemed to demand his soul. "So, what do you think, Doctor Fleming?" Lothar impatiently and urgently inquired. "I can not guarantee anything. However..." He then went over to a locked cabinet that contained his personal equipment and precious medicine. From there, he pulled out a potion. "This is a potion divined to be capable of healing eve the most grievous wounds. It was among the spoils of war after the 2nd Battle of the Mud Elves, and found by the Blue Paw Clan. Caelis had the foresight to purchase this potion from them to further study it... and make more of it with the Highborn Chalice. While, this is the first time we use this.... it will be a case study and serve as the main treatment of Caelis, but the physical corruption that the Demon placed upon Caelis... we will need life magic and other means to treat Caelis. Perhaps, the regenerative properties of god rot will aid in his recovery... but we must fight against fate itself if Caelis is to be saved."

"I... I will attempt to change fate." Cassandra weakly muttered as she stirred from her stupor. Her once brazen crimson red dress was now muted, and dull. A wretched sight of a once fearsome Blood Mage... he questioned if she even had much capability in blood magic any more. Cassandra slowly gathered herself from the bed and shakily stood, leaning on Bloodscourge as a crutch. Lothar glared at her under his helm. This was all ultimately done just to save her. What Caelis saw in her to risk so much just for her... he knew bringing her along to this journey was a terrible idea. Lothar ignored her comment and then turned to the Doctor and said "Whoever or whatever you need. You will have it. Just ensure that my brother will survive." He then quickly left the Healer's Guild before he made a rash mistake. While the Doctor gently urged Cassandra to rest. However, Cassandra knew that while she was no longer a strong blood mage... she still had some abilities but more importantly, she was still a seer who could change fate and fortune, her vibrant flame was still steadily alive deep within.

---

Inside the central "keep" of the Attolian Housing District, Lothar gathered his council. "Caelis is extremely tired from the recent exorcism and needs a lot of rest." was the message that went about the Colony as to why Lothar was suddenly taking charge. Still, it was something that most accepted at face value for now. Regardless, there was another emergency. The recent appearance of all these animals from the west posed a significant threat to Attolian farmlands, which lay just east of the ruins. These animals had to be captured before too much damage was done to the crops. Thus, Lothar called for a Grand Hunt. The Grand Hunt was, historically, a yearly tradition among Attolian nobility and royalty where the lords would gather their men and ride out for a week or two to hunt and capture great animals and beasts in the wild, untamed lands of Attolia and neighboring lands. The lords would fight for glory for capturing the most fantastic beast and putting it up for display.

The Swan Knight was one particular lord who took pride in capturing swans and other graceful birds. So much so that he had inadvertently created a small shortage of feathers in the Kingdom every year. Then there was Lord William 'the Lionheart' who would single handedly ride towards lions with a heavy net and capture them. Or even the Leviathan Slayer, Gundar, although he was not a lord, Gundar was an Attolian naval captain who was famous for hunting down curious beasts and monsters of the sea that no one had ever seen before. However, as Attolia grew and civilized, there was a significant lack of fantastic beasts to capture in the wild as the land was tamed. The Grand Hunt then grew to becoming military campaigns where recently pacified regions would be visited and any remnants of evil would be hunted down. Lothar personally captured and slew many cultists and marauders in these hunts. However, it became clear that reviving this tradition in these lands would be a good choice. It would help capture these animals and enable the men to get used to these lands.

---

1. Send out trade fleet (10 ships)
Trader, Corpse of Underlord Touryan, War Garb of Touryan,

2. The Grand Hunt (Capture the new animals, Attolian noble/military tradition/hobby.)
Beast Mage Rex, Torc of the Horned One, Animal Tamer, Falconer, Explorer, Lothar, 1 Sundered King, 30 Attolian Swarm Infantry, 30 Kriegan Banner Infantry, 10 Halberdiers, 20 Sea Wolves, 15 Sirens, 5 Thralls, 20 Knights of the Circle, University Death Mage, Hiver Prince

3. Further study of the "Crystals as a Prison" section of the Ironbound book
Linguist, Writer, Historian

4. Healing Caelis case study
Dr. Fleming, Chemist, Gnome Chemist, Herbalist, Talion the Constructor, Cassandra, 2 Astrologists, Pantheon Priest, (God Rot?), Potion of Supreme Healing, Magical Refilling Chalice.

5. Project to deal with the Magnetic Underwater Mines and explore the ruins of Spire 10
20 Sirens, 3 Engineers, University Metal Mage, 4 Stone Constructs, Spellbreaker pair of large magnetic blocks to "cancel" the magnetic waves, naval captain, shipwright, 30 Unskilled Workers, Nicholas, Gnome Artificer

6. Mining of Salt from the salt caves and delivering some of it to the gnolls
Hiver Prince (Miner), Geologist, 100 Skeletons, Child Wrath/Iron Skeletons (idk the exact number... but they're Talion and the Death Mages's conduits/assistants), 20 Skilled Dwarven Workers, Preserver, steam shovel

7. Creation of a large ranch to the East of the Housing District to house all the captured animals
2 Architects, 2 Engineers, 20 Skilled Workers, 39 Unskilled Workers
 
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The Highborn Cleric and Highborn Mage had sensed the power and evil presence of the Demon of the Fountain since their arrival. They were not alone. All of the Highborn were sensitive to the Arcane and had sensed the tinge of blood magic throughout the Platz. The situation was always a sensitive one since the Demon had gained control of the Attolian leader Caelis before the Highborn had arrived to prevent the Possession from occurring. It was a very a subtle taking over of Caelis' soul with the intent of taking over the Colony's. The Highborn Elves, their leaders had spent many nights discussing this and this matter put a tinge of suspicion in Caelis and the Attolians. Fortunately, Caelis' soul was ultimately a good one as far as mortals went. A person more corrupt, less good would have succumbed to the Demon's influence completely. However, Cassandra and Caelis are not evil. They were acting like Mortals do. They stumble and bumble like toddlers into things they do not understand. Something shiny is dangled in front of them and they go to investigate. In this case it was power. The Fountain seemed reasonable enough. In many ways the Colonist, Caelis, and the Highborn were lucky too. The Demon was not absolutely blood thirsty and Chaotic evil or rather was too weak to act out it's true nature. The outcome for the Colony could have been much worse. The Demon was wise enough to not show his hand. Fortunately, The Highborn and others were present to help prevent catastrophe from occurring. The Attolians seemed to be smart enough not to give in completely to the Demon. Perhaps it was the possession of the second fountain that swayed Caelis the Highborn High Cleric mused. In any case, this opportunity presented itself and the Platz, the Colony was free of this evil presence and blood magic. The Highborn Elves all went to thank the High Arch Angel Planetar for its aid. They planted rare, blessed flowers from their land sas a tribute with mana crystals and sang ancient songs. The Bard Lindar wrote a Sonnet and sang a song in praise.

All who participated in the cleansing were thanked, blessed, and given a garland of flowers, as a necklace to cleanse any remnants of the foulness that was banished. In the days coming the Highborn Clerics assistants would help bless ALL the colonist of the Platz and anyone in range of the Demon's blood magic. A complete cleansing.

Now that the Fountains were free, They were to be sanctified. The Fountains would gush pure, holy water. The Highborn Mage, the Highborn High Cleric and the Tyren Mages, Ummush and Bruul, sanctified the Fountains with Earth and High Magic. The Tyren would bless one and the Highborn the other (the fountain that was initially possessed). Once the blessing, the sanctification was completed. The Highborn High Cleric would go assist in the healing of Caelis. The Highborn High Cleric would use the Blood Tear of Divinity if needed. However, only if it could be done so without corruption. The logic being, the Hair of the Dog that Bit you might help heal the damage that the injuries, and blood magic inflicted onto Caelis. To restore the Blood in Caelis and sanctify Caelis and Cassandra from any tinges of corruption from the Possession.

Ummush would be supported in this time, as well, as the burden of cleansing the fountain was great. Mana was channeled to him to ground him. The Highborn rejoiced and uncharacteristically called for a festival to be held at the time of Caelis' healing to celebrate this occasion.

Orders:
Highborn High Cleric Sanctify Fountain ( SpiralErrant SpiralErrant ) along with the Tyren mages. One Earth one in High Magic

Highborn High Cleric go to aid Caelis along with best healers, and uses Blood tear of divinity to help heal if needed

Arch Angel High Planetar is thanked and given tribute of planting rare flowers and placing mana crystals by the Shrine.

All are thanked and and given a garland of fragrant flowers and blessed. A complete cleansing to occur. (5 of the Clerics acolytes)

A Festival is held for all in the Highborn Villa area if Caelis is healed (one wealth to festival)
 
So... Much... POWER!

Magic pulsed all through The Platz. Raw forces of power caused the air to throb and set the old shaman's bones to rattling. Robes of iron and stone were cast aside like paper sheets on the wind as the collected magical power of every mage in the colony was brought to bare against this thrashing godling. Then, as it all came to a head and yet dissipated at the same time, the cries went up.

A titan roared its dismay as it was caught in mortal snares.
Humans groaned their pain and loss.
Most others cheered their success.
And Ummush screamed.

It was so much, too much for him to handle. All his disguises and safeguards thrown aside, with only the strong hands of his apprentice to keep him firm in the face of the oblivion that called him. He'd spent so many seasons made weak as he clung onto the frame that now held him... but this was the first time he felt truly faint. What little blood clung to him was dragged to the ether and that which formed around his pitted skull lanced through his soul like needles. On and on they went for what felt like an age, even if it did just pass in moments. Until the last strike broke the titan's back and Ummush felt relief fall upon him like the sea.

It was in those moments that he felt another shift and saw a light through the suffocating crimson. Ummush saw an opportunity and he took it! Blood was the primal force of life and in its spilling did life indulge its most primal parts. Ummush had walked such roads, and he had the strength to do so again. Life would be his!

Screaming like a wild animal Ummush fell to his knees, vine wrapped bones clattering against the cobbled street. He shouldn't have been able to make that kind of ghastly noise, he shouldn't have been able to feel pain anymore but everything he'd once felt was fleeing from him. Bruul and Shul rushed to his side, pleading to know what was wrong and fearing to touch him. Ummush vaguely recognised their voices but whatever cries of comfort and help they let out were lost on him.

All he heard was the blood pumping in his ears, all he felt was the blood that spread from his head and down the clutching vines that had claimed him. It crept down his limbs and coated his bones as red met green. He'd thought the glade had given him a second burst of life, how small he'd thought. As the verdant power of nature's life magic met its sanguine twin the two merged and warped each other in way that might have been fascinating if it didn't feel like he was being slowly ripped apart. But that was wrong, it was doing quite the reverse.

Roots became veins and arteries. Vines weaved together and stretched into sinew. Leaves spread out and skin formed.

Ummush screamed and panted and toppled under the weight of it all. Until bit by bit it became lighter, until he felt strong enough to push himself up with an ease he'd forgotten so long ago it felt alien to him. He looked up as the pain subsided and his vision was startlingly clear. Clear enough for him to see the fear and shock in Bruul and Shul's eyes as they gawked at him.

Hesitantly, Ummush raised his hands and saw they looked... strong. Broad hands with flexing fingers, covered in a shining coat of fur. Had it always had a tint of auburn? He liked it. He liked all of this! Still shaking from the power that had coursed through him Ummush got to his feet, patted down his body, looking in amazement at what had become of him. His heart was racing, he could feel his heart beating. His breathe was coming in excited gasps. He was actually breathing! He was... he was alive!

The three minotaurs looked at each other in stunned silence. Until Ummush, with a young man's strong lungs, started to laugh. Letting out a bellowing bray of joy to the sky.

Meanwhile Bruul and Shul stared slack jawed and wondered what on earth they were going to tell Orm.

[Ummush chooses life!]
 
"Excuse me! P-pardon me, coming through." Anuc panted as she ran down the street to the coastal branch of the healers guild. Working closer to home was nice but something would have to be done if she was going to face a commute like this every time there was an emergency.

Once she was inside the crowds only got thicker as doctors and soldier types clustered around the bed bound figures. Anuc let out a little gasp to herself, things had gotten rough in this fight. Funny how she could only see two injured folks though. Hopefully it wasn't because they were the only two not beyond helping.

Well there was no sense worrying over what she couldn't control! Anuc clapped her hands together and saw a faint glow stir between them. She was still getting used to this whole 'having magic' thing, though she recognised the tingling feeling that told her her eyes had started to glow green.

"Alright, let's get to it."

[@Heyitsjiwon Life mage sent assist in healing Caelis and Cassandra.]

The matter of what was to be done in the name of industry up at the top of the waterfall had been a matter of great debate at the hilltop. The craft wagons supported this idea of a rock tumbler, given that there were promises of precious stones to be pulled out of the earth along with the rocks they were using in the name of magic. They were pleased by the idea of mixing these new riches with the technology they had learned and the new magic offered by the Proud-Horn shamaness. The merchants saw a way to polish these stones as a way to heighten the profits the soil already offered.

The shepherds on the other hand supported the idea of a giant loom. Others existed in the colony but if this was to be a great machine that was to belong only to the hills then it should be used to work a raw thing that only they were offering. They held pride in the wool their booming herds could offer and the crude goods they had crafted. The deal of trading it with the elf artisans had done them well so far but the merchants couldn't argue that owning the process of refinement would only help them gain a greater share of the profits. The shepherds went on to argue that the craft bulls couldn't guarantee there would be more jewels coming forth in the future but the shepherd wagons could say with confidence that the wool would flow with the seasons.

The two sides went back and forth in the debate over the fire pits of the town centre. Settled they may be but the tyren had not lost their nomad traditions, and this matter was open for all to speak on n a public moot before the chieftain. Orm was perched on the large stone that had served as his seat in these meetings since their arrival in these lands. Listening intently as each elder gave their case to the cheers of their peers he found himself conflicted. It was only when the druid woman spoke up that the scales were tipped.

"I must say that these works are a foreign thing to me. I was rarely one for delving the depths of the earth and clothes always struck me as an extravagance in most cases." That was an understatement. Orm had gotten his fair share of mutterings from the more puritanical folks who crossed paths with the druid. As someone who usually only wore a loincloth and shoulder guards he was in no place to judge.

"But your stock does make for a soft blanket that even I can appreciate. But it can be quite dull to look upon, and though jewels may brighten them up they will do little to keep you warm come the second winter. Have you considered brightening them up?"

The grumpier among the crowd began to grumble and bray for the sing-song-talking elf stopped dancing around her subject. Yes they had pondered the prospect of dyes and finer fabrics but had little else to work with. "Ah but you have me and my little cadre now." Beamed Deryn in a display of emotion that seemed rather forward for one of her number. "For their are forests of flowers and barks I could name that could be simply boiled in pots to make your dyes and others to make threads of a finer kind. And with the help of your shaman I dare say I could summon them in your hills."

That opened up a new line of talk and excitement. In the end they swung Orm towards his open approval of the loom and ordering the tools and pieces be made available for it. While the more knowledgeable talked over the finer details Orm found himself thinking of something Deryn had said. Barks could be boiled to make dye she'd said, and come the summer they would harvest sheets of the magical bark of the golden glade. Orm wondered, could it be used to make golden blankets or shawls, could they create their own golden fleeces like those in the legends?

[3 Skilled Craft-bulls, 3 skilled day labourer tyren, 6 unskilled Tyren, 1 Treesinger, 10 springborn, 20 hillfolk. Set to building a water powered giant loom at the top of the sheer cliffs, as mentioned in previous posts.]

The grand wrangling had begun! This was a simpler matter that all the wagons could agree upon, good and pure!

The Grumps, the leaders of the shepherd wagons were glad to finally have some clear work in mind, especially Hulhuff who was happy to just not be facing down things that might eat him in one gulp. It had been odd having a giant snake monster join their number but so far Olm had only asked for food that was "On the communal menu" as he put it and slithered around at night looking for conversation. He'd spent many nights talking through the windows of the water hall with Anais or wandering off in search of the shaman. All in all he seemed to be fitting in well given his giant size! Though no one could say where he went to sleep out the day.

It was a mad thing for them to see themselves running down the slopes in search of working livestock and scooping up the smaller critters at the river while being outpaced by their runners and the young hunters. Not to mention the druid lass who was all wolfish grins as they saw her shift and change from one animal shape to the next. Then there was the matter of Ummush or the young lad who claimed to be him! The whole town was alight with gossip of this strange transformation. Even stranger was that the youthful shaman was content to spend his first few days of this change chasing pigs! Apparently he was sick being stuck inside reading and wanted to test out his new heart.

So lng as he kept working that old animal magic of his the Grumps were happy to have such strange sights along.

[The grand critter wrangling! The tyren go out to herd and tame the working mundane animals loosed from the zoo district, pigs, ducks, horses ect. 2 Skilled shepherds with runner lizards, 1 winterborn druid, Shaman Ummush, 1 skilled hunter, 7 skilled tyren, 20 Hillfolk, 20 Mercenaries, 15 unskilled tyren.]
 
SpiralErrant SpiralErrant "Gifts of the earth"

The tree-singers, kept in cadence by their bard and druid -- played the vines of the mine as if in harmony. Great treasures were pulled from the ground that day, Copper chunks the size of Tyren, rocks veined with precious gold, and the crowning achievement, pulled from a depth of the earth and pulled with such friction it smoked upon it's emergence -- A great geode, bristling inside with emeralds and the dirt holding it bescattered with rough-hewn rubies. This chunk of rock alone was worth 75 wealth -- and tyren began talking of changing the currency at hand from silver to gemstones! The prestigious find nets +3 influence!
 
Deeds of the highborn: Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion :

The first suits of ballistic-silk armor began to hit the rank and file of the highborn -- and demand quickly spread to the military of all the factions. Essentially stylized pillows of mithril-foiled silk, the armor was ridiculously light and exceedingly strong against slashing and piercing weapons. Crushing strikes were less negotiated, but this was not saying much with the general effectivity of the armor, especially with bull-iron hard-points for the vitals. Until demand subsided almost anything could be traded for the armor, giving untapped access to the market fund.

Training of the Highborn with the Blood-touched continued apace -- the faceless, mindless slaughter was slowly harnessed into a storm that could be wielded, worn like a coat that sent enemies flying. At first the Tyren felt nausea at the sudden peace the highborn technique could bring to a tyren rage and physiology, until it too was turned to rage then honed into a fine point. After a couple of weeks of training, the highborn needed to repair their training garden, as every cobblestone in it was crushed under hooves of focused rage. It was working.
In an unprecedented turn, after one month the blood-touched took wives from amoung the tribe -- unprecedented as the demeanor of the blood touched often drove enduring mating pairings away. The Blood touched placed themselves at the right and left hand of Orm -- swearing to fall before the tribe saw their chieftain laid low again...

...The highborn too profited from this training, as endurance training at this level to the highborn was all too commonly eschewed for technique of redirection and avoidence. There was no redirecting (or often avoiding) the fury of the blood touched... and the swordmasters as a whole grew tougher as a result. (Highborn swordmasters gain endurance!)

(con't)
 
Shireling Shireling Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion

The Highborn then sought to improving ties and relations with the stoutmen -- they brought wagons of superior tools and metals, which were bought and taken graciously -- and what the highborn saw as superior food and exotics, of which the stoutmen did not. Still, the Stouts were on what was a bleeding edge of explored territory and the gesture of the highborn brought them closer. The highborn paid the pittance to send a couple of their number to the trade school of the stouts, learning much about their ways but nothing much of value in their technique. They put sweat in excess of technique, the highborn felt -- something the stouts seemed to have plenty of. They came away with a respect for standish endurance and simplicity of doing. (relations between highborn and stoutmen improve!)

The highborn discussed with the attolians the mithril gate and it's relative practicalities. With the mana well, it could be powered to transport as many as thirty individuals anywhere in explored territory -- though farther, more passengers, or unfamiliar grounds would effect distance in the ways and accuracy at the arrival point. The gate, if made stable, would be a great investment in wealth and magical power -- the entire colony would need to aid in it's construction if it were not to take the highborn nearly a year to complete it.
 
Shireling Shireling :

The stouts did well insinuating themselves to the market life of the colony -- the men learned much about their neighbors and even more of value from their neighbor's craft.

Demand for the "quaint" wares of the standish was apparently well-seeded, with Attolians and fennec in particular taking a liking at market.

The dwarven and standish endeavor to run their brewery showed it's first blush in young light ales -- an oceans worth of them, it seemed... and production was rising. The dwarfs and stouts were used to a longer process for their lager and ales but found attolian and highborn pallete ready for lighter brews earlier on. (Stoutmen gain 1 wealth from ale sales!)

The stoutmen called to protect the crops and reign in animals had their work cut out for them... no fewer than 18 wild ponies found their way to the pallisade, and no less than 3 elephants, two mated with one young broke into their cropland despite their best defenses before they could be corralled. The stouts were excited with the promise these animals might show in labor!

The stouts began to build their eastern towers -- but the dwarves seemed too preoccupied to help at the present. Perhaps plying them more directly would gain their ear -- though catching a dwarf that was not a flurry of industry and above the ground was a task in itself...

The Zebani were quick studies of the divinus dualismus -- and seemed to think the worship of gods with forms a silly affair, taking much more seriously to the formless limitless nature of the "godhead" -- "Zebani are matter given spirit. Your faith adheres to what limited we understand of the nature of things, and consider you enlightened. Gods are weapons - to follow a god of form and ambition is as sensical as to obligate oneself to a blade. We were created as weapons, and thought long and hard to earn our capacity to reason. We do not see a standish mind as strange as some others." (Standish relations with Zebani increase!)
 
(READY)

FINECIAN TROOP TOTALS
"Yellow Teeth" Clan
Dirty Paw: 10
Clean Paw: 10
Unskilled Worker: 30
TOTAL: 50

"Natives"
Hooded Worker: 32
Hooded Warriors: 70
Native Witch: 5
Dune Rider: 6
Giant Pengolin: 3
TOTAL: 124

"Foreigners..."
Black Surgeons: 3
Miscreated: 20
TOTAL: 13

"New World Trade Organization"
Unskilled Workers: 34 (10 unavailable due to guilds)
Skilled Workers: 50 (10 unavailable due to guilds)
Hitmen: 9
Dunsia Assassin: 4
Trolls: 10
Capos: 8
TOTAL: 122

The Second "Factory";
The colony was on the cusp of an industrial revolution- and the Fennec would not be left behind. No... they would take this new breeze of efficiency and turn it into a storm. No project would be left behind. Even those that were... unconventional by nature.

To produce goods efficiently they had to be made en masse, a lower cost per good and a higher output. A basic principle of production if you will, that was already being put into practice with other projects. Yet the creation of the miscreated had lagged behind. Just 10 had been created thus far, 11 counting the "Transcendent". A piss poor output for the time consumed if you asked them. And thus the production of Miscreated had to be increased. Automated if you will...

In this sense the Miscreated were "goods", quite literally things produced and used, perhaps even sold. They were disposable warriors and workers who needed little and expected less. The perfect workers and solution to any manpower issue. Thus they were to be literally treated as actual goods, their production therefore to be evaluated and refined.

It was known that Kubaras inhabited the platz and were commonly feasted upon. But the Fennec saw another "use" for them... a Miscreated FACTORY! The Kubaras would be farmed for their meat- but it would not be eaten. Rather it would be used to attempt to produce Miscreated en masse by providing yet another constant supply of meat. Dire Bear hunting was not sustainable, and the use of Runners for such purposes may be frowned upon as the herds were owned collectively.

TLDR
The Fennec would seek to start a Kubara breeding and dissembling program, breeding the beasts as quickly as possible and harvesting them for the production of Miscreated. A processing and Miscreated production laboratory/building would be built next to the farm. Additional meat would be purchased in bulk from the market to bolster production, along with any meat that could be gained from the Cave Fisher farming. Live Kubara and Fishermothers would be combined to create PERFECTED!
(3 Black Surgeons, 10 Skilled Fennec, 10 Unskilled Fennec, 1 Trolls)

The Colony is Literally a Zoo Now
The Fennec were surprised to see herds of unknown, strange creatures emerge from the depths of the ruins. It was truly unnerving seeing creatures so obviously alive flee from the center of something so utterly dead. The Fennec at first thought them ghosts, undead or demons even. But after much running and hiding from these strange beasts, it was discovered that they were indeed, simply ordinary animals. Why or how they came from the ruins was beyond them, but it was not there placed to question such things- only to profit from them! The creature were fascinating- and some were rather tasty! They were to be rounded up and herded. Some would be eaten, some would be "repurposed", while the rest would be put on display in a future COLONIAL ZOO! They could CHARGE people to look at random animals. What a great thing zoos were!

TLDR
The wild, exotic animals running about would be herded up for use in breeding, farming and a FUTURE COLONIAL ZOO!
(10 Unskilled Fennec, 10 Skilled Fennec, 2 Trolls,



Smashing the Anthill
A pest infestation was not an uncommon thing. Many, if not most houses were infested by rats, roaches, ants and other various annoyances. You either spent effort and time to rid yourself of them, only to find another pest will come and fill the void, or accept the demon you know. The fennec, would choose the former. They could comfortably live in what other would describe as despicable conditions, the peasantry of the lot often living in self-dug burrows littered with expensive trinkets and crawling with the bugs and critters that peak their heads inside. Quick and easy snacks the Fennec considered them. They don't even need a microwave.

But these Ants... delicious as they were... were TOO annoying. They tried to bite your foot off! And they just RUINED your burrow and trinkets. And they posed an immediate safety hazard blah blah blah. legal stuff, workers comp, yawn. They needed to be replaced with a less annoying pest. Something easy to eat too, cooking the Ants was too annoying. Roaches hopefully. Those buggers were delicious!

So raise the army! Or more so, the mob. But a mob is an army if you call it that so... YES! RAISE THE ARMY! TO ARMS GENTLEMEN, WE SHALL FEAST TONIGHT! The Hooded Warriors, tall, lean but muscular Cobra-Men who towered over the Fennec dressed in leather armor and wielding spears hissed in excitement at serving their False Gods, some boasting how they would die gloriously in battle and be reborn. There was a rumor spreading around that they couldn't actually die in this "New World"; this was merely a dreamland their False Prophet had inserted themselves into to test their faith. Those who "died" serving their false-gods would awake in glory. To say the least... the pitiable, brainwashed snakemen feared not death. They would slaughter the enemies of their masters with a fever the only ideology could muster.

This religious frenzy was channeled and amplified by the Grand Pretender, the False Prophet. An aged, crazed fox of unusually short stature and plump figure, garbed in pious white robes trimmed with gold, diamonds, and emerald rings decorating his furry paws, the holy symbol of the endless dunes decorating the back of his robes and engraved in the pendant of a pure gold necklace. He stood atop a throne of the richest wood and softest silk, carried by a team of 4 Hooded decorated in less ornate, grey robes with the same insignia. The Hooded would part ways enthusiastically for this figure, throwing themselves down atop the ground in reverence towards the mortal mouthpiece of the False Gods, who would should random, confused, crazed and often conflicting bits of speech, omens, prophecies and holy script, to which the Hooded would nod enthusiastically and repeat his words, often wrongly. To an outside observer, the whole situation was surreal and absurd. Perhaps the Hooded Understood something we could not. Or perhaps they were so enthralled by the False Pretenders seeming charisma and authority it mattered not what he said, just that he did indeed speak.

The False Pretender ordered his entourage to stop, his Hooded Servants obeying immediately, holding the heavy weight of the large throne unflinchingly. These hooded were not like the others. They were a full head and half taller, wide and muscular. Where the others acted spurratidacally with a religious fever, the Servants were calm and collected, never speaking, only listening. Large, brutal maces with flat triangular heads hung at their waists, the emblem of the endless sun etched onto their three faces. Any overzealous and frenzied Hooded who approached too close to the Gran Pretender, or sought to throw themselves onto their False Prophet were battered away with one powerful strike from the mace of the nearest servant, leaving the insignia of their gods imprinted upon their broken scales. The servant would return the mace to his waist as quickly as he had drawn it, never letting go of the throne with his off-hand.

The False Pretender raised he furry paw, his arm literally TREMBLING under the weight of the rings and jeweled bracelets that adorned the chubby appendage. Within moments, all Hooded had stopped and now turned towards their False Prophet. He clenched his fist and slammed it against the arm of his throne. Instantly all of the Hooded threw themselves into a silent kneel, bowing their heads, only daring to take brief upwards glances at their prophet. The Servants remained standing, holding the throne up, ever still, ever calm. The Grand Pretender began to bellow and screech, calling upon his followers to lash out against the enemies of the Fennec, to give their lives to subdue the Ant invader, to fear not but death in this dreamland they have been sent to. Once the Grand Pretender had finished, the Hooded stood and roared in renewed fever. They would not falter, they would not stop until the wishes of their masters had been fulfilled. May the False Gods have mercy on those who would stand in there way.

TLDR
A small army shall approach the Anthill to clear it out once and for all, with the TRANSCENDENT as the crown jewel of the force. The Transcendent would be used to kill the Giant Centipede and clear out the ants. Burning logs and foxtails would be thrown down through a small hole made in the top of the Attolian "plug" to smoke out the ants. When a large amount of logs have been dumped into the tunnels the hole will be plugged once more so as to smother the ants and hopefully centipede with the smoke. Not ALL ants will be killed, As many as possible would be captured in cages and the Ant Queen will be kept alive for relocation. The Grand Pretender and Witches will control the Hooded to prevent all of the Ants from being killed.
(Lead by Sontio, Andrei the Master Assassin and the False Pretender. 1 Transcendent, 3 Capo, 4 Dunsia, 9 hitmen, 10 Unskilled Fennec, 10 Dirty Paws, 70 Hooded Warriors, 3 Witches, 20 Miscreated, 3 Pengolins, foxtails)

Why is this taking so long
The construction of a centralized production and distribution center for Finecian operations had been ongoing for weeks, with no clear end in sight. With each passing day, the project became more ambitious, convoluted and unrealistic. Half completed buildings, plots, and trenches were spread across the land with multiple, sometimes opposing lines of thought playing out at once. What had been a project aimed at simplifying, centralizing and boosting the productivity of their operations threatened to do the opposite. It was all Sontio could do to keep up with the uncoordinated lines of thoughts and endeavors of the lead engineers whose minds were absorbed in plans laughably grandiose in nature. He was no project manager, he just made sure people were doing what they were supposed to do. Telling them what they should be doing was evidently beyond him. Thus, the project needed new guidance. Fortunately, the man fit for the job had recently arrived. Or at least that's what he said about the matter.

Fendarvin would take over the project, rail in the overly zealous ambitions of the lead designers and give it a neat, straight and narrow direction.

The Factory complex would be laid out like this;
It was consist of a "line" of buildings, with an "input" and an "output" end. As few buildings as possible would be used.

The "input" end would consist of ideally a single warehouse/facility where raw materials needed for production would be deposited from farms, mines and market sources etc. and these raw materials could be sorted and distributed to the "production center" or middle of the "line".

The production end would be a series of segmented complex designated for the production of a single type of good, like a complex for the production of booze, one for food items, one for jewelry, etc. The proper raw materials from the "input" end would be directed to the correct production warehouse, where the raw materials would be forged into a final product. From here the final goods would be sent to the "output" end.

The "output" end would be the distribution end, where finished goods received from the "production center" would be sorted to fulfill orders and then shipped to the destination.

Workers would be assigned to specific, individual and complementary tasks in an assembly-line fashion. Production would be step by step in an assembly line manner where workers would have a specific tasks rather than working on the product start to finish.

Fendarvin to direct and oversee (1 capo), 32 Hooded Workers, 2 Witches, 10 Clean paws, 20 Unskilled Ratkin, 4 Trolls, 20 Skilled Workers)

FARMING AND OTHER DUTIES
(10 unskilled rats, 10 skilled Fennec, 3 Trolls, 5 Capos)
 
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The Demon of the fountain was vanquished utterly -- that came to be known and passed. The knights of the circle exorcised it thoroughly as Caelis had called it by the closest to a true name that could be called. The highborn cleric locked it in a dozen hexes and geases for demons not to break, and bruul had punched that prison deep into the beyond where Ummush opened a void to obliterate it.

At the same time, Lothar used his ancient fire tear to enchant the extinguished blade gottendamarung, and with it incinerated the dust that was left of it's vessel that ummush had brought underhoof. The blade glowed with eldrich power -- orange and angry with an inner flame that gave off no warmth. The ruins on the sword ignited for the first time in centuries -- "Quietus" the sword read, from hilt to tip. The blade gottendamarung sang again, and if there was anything left to tie the Qlippoth fountain demon to this world, it's tie was cut. A would-be god was vanguished utterly -- and the rituals of expiation quickly removed even the stains of it's existence, sanctifying the fountains once profaned.
 
Word came to the Castellan about the recent haul that the Tyren found. While it would bring great fortune to them... it could also easily destroy the fledgling economy that the colony had set up. However, at the same time, the Castellan saw a great opportunity for the Colony as a whole. One that would pay great dividends in the years to come if implemented properly. He had much hope that the Tyren would see the wisdom in his idea. After all, the dangers of a sudden large windfall was a concept taught in the Tyren folktales if he remembered correctly. Suddenly flooding the market with precious gems would be a disaster. However, the Attolians had the ability to grow crystals. What if they could convince the Tyren to store the geode in a safe location and allow the sirens to grow the gems? Thus, instead of flooding the market with 75 wealth worth of gems.... they could instead continuously grow about 10 wealth worth every season. This would guarantee a perpetual cash flow for the Tyren tribes and make them be able to live comfortably for the rest of their lives... even their heirs would as well.

However, that was when a second idea came to the Castellan. Such a large geode of gems could serve as a strong foundation for a backed currency. Instead of a gold or silver standard... what if the Colony had a crystal currency? The Attolians had access to less valuable gems and crystals that could form the basis of smaller denominations of money, while the Tyren had that huge geode that could back larger denominations of money. By growing more of these crystals, the value of the currency would then be secured, which would allow the economy to grow healthily instead of being subject to huge shocks such this geode. In fact, by storing all the crystals and gems of the Attolians and the Tyren in the vault underneath the Capital, there would be a centralized place for all this to occur and bring more legitimacy to the Colonial Government. They would literally be forming a central bank for the colony. A crystal based economy.

However, this would require a lot of trust between the Attolians and the Tyren, but the benefits to the Colony would be immense if done properly. A reasonable way to keep each other responsible and accountable would perhaps to split the work with the Attolians doing the accounting and the more theoretical stuff such as banking while the Tyren serve as the physical guardians of the Colonial wealth. In any business, the person keeping track of the money on paper had to be different from the person physically handling the money. Otherwise, one individual who did both would be able to mess with the numbers on the books and secretly pocket some of the money and no one would know that money had been stolen. By splitting the paper work from the physical work, the Tyren and the Attolians were in a unique place to establish a strong central bank and revolutionize the economy by keeping each other in check.

The only thing that was needed, however, was to convince the Tyren that this was a good idea. Some of it was rather advanced economic concepts, but at the very basic fundamental theory... these were reasonable ideas. He had to find a way to convey the ideas in a manner that the Tyren would find acceptable. A lot of the ideas were expressed in Tyren folklore and songs. He was a diplomat, but no singer. That said, he knew several singers who without a doubt knew what kind of stories and songs would be applicable to the concepts that he wanted to present to the Tyren. The idea of carefully using a sudden windfall to help the tribe as a whole rather than destroying oneself with excess. The idea of providing a strong, trustworthy framework for people in trade in. These ideas were fundamental to all, but especially the Tyren. Thus, the Castellan asked the 15 sirens who were working on growing the various crystals of the Attolians to escort him north to the home of the Tyren.

---

Summary:

The Castellan approaches the Tyren with an idea to establish a central bank for the Colony (located in the Capitol) and form a strong, unique economy based on crystals and gems.
 
"Well you see, Chief..." The she bull sighed as pondered how best to phrase things without making her elected leader look stupid. "If you give out that much - and that is mighty generous of you - then you're gunna cause what we in the business call hyperinflation. That's when you've got too much of the one thing in the market so no one wants it anymore. Stuff like gold, half the reason it's so expensive is 'cus it's so hard to find. You give away that many gems for free and no one's gunna want to pay for it around here. Is a generous idea though."

Orm grumbled under his breath and furrowed his brow as he felt his fur go grey. "So we've got a giant hunk of shiny rocks and nothing I can do with it?"

"Well not nothing," She offered. "You could turn it into something to sell. Big diamonds of green and red will always go to someone and the craft wagon lads have learned plenty from the humans, they could carve something fancy. Why imagine an emerald studded tea set, you'd get someone who'd pay an arm and a leg for that back in our old world."

"Bah, all the good that'll do us for a season or two." Orm grunted. "So you don't put much hope in the craft elders' idea of smashing it to little pieces and making it the new coin?"

"It sounds like a very pretty way to brighten up your pouch, Chief, but I dread what it'd do to the price of bread if everyone's carrying around big ol' gems." She shrugged.

Great! Clearly the old adage was true, more money made more problems. What should have been a gift from the spirits was quickly turning into a weight around Orm's neck. It was only a matter of time until the fetch and its titanic minions come to darken his door to try and confiscate as much as they could. That was why Orm was pondering the idea of handing it out for free! A chief had to share grand gains with his caravan, like he'd done with the silver, and if Orm could spread it through the entire colony they could gain a victory in popularity and get support if imperial authorities came around to try and drain them dry.

Either way he had to get this out of the fields and into somewhere it could work for him. It'd be hell to pay if they hoarded it so Orm and elders began putting plans together to transport their new geodes to the government building where it could be put under guard and they could start lobbying ideas for what to make of it.

So imagine Orm's surprise when he was beaten to the punch and a choir of fish girls came asking for a visit. Much like the craft elders before the Attolian paper pusher had his own idea to pitch to Orm and the gathered wagon elders before the communal fireside. Unlike them he'd opted to be a showman and accompany it with a song from the siren girls as they gave their own telling of the story of Fulhun and his avalanche of goats, a tale Orm hadn't heard in years!

"Is this supposed to be enlightening for us?" Minax muttered in his ear. "This is a story for yearlings." A few others agreed with her with their own grumblings of being patronised or spoken down to but Orm waved them down, quietly reminding folk to be civil.

Blunt as it was this fellow had at least come along with the aim of bridging the gaps between their folk and was doing a better job of it than that translator and his lord had done. 'At least they're trying' Orm thought to himself. It was more than most humans did in his experience, especially those who enjoyed the privileges of empire.

It also helped no end that he'd brought a much better deal with him than the last time the two parties had met. Literally being able to grow money, who wouldn't want that? And given this lad's experience in sorting out the rates and taxes around the market Orm put plenty of weight in his ideas to turn the gems into a real kind of coin. With their brains for these things and his of craftbulls knew knowledge of stone work they could compliment each other plenty here, grabbing position and prestige for themselves and the colony.

It certainly sounded better than his first idea of having it guarded by the Great Olm in his caves. The lad may have been frightening and his blood-touched may have liked the idea but Orm wasn't keen on the idea of hiding jewels in a giant pile of dung.

It was after another heated session of discussion and braying that the elders could come to an agreement and Orm could start to feel good about this blasted haul as he shook the castellan lad's hand. By the end of the day they'd agreed that Harun'Taras would give two thirds of their gem find over to the council and have in guarded in a shared vault to start the crystal growth process.
 
Pat Pat

The sea dwarves moved along the sandy shelf to sunken shoals -- ever aware of the great fronds of vegetation that grew offshore in the hilly depths that came to be known as "the seaweed steppe" -- occasionally the fronds would all bend with the tide, but it was also witnessed creatures that fed on these giant kelp beds... great bony fish almost the size of their submarine slowly worked to pull down whole "trees" off the seabed, and once or twice the great and oddly reflective shells of huge nautilus could be seen by the base of the weeds harvesting great greenish fruit, or perhaps seeds, from the kelp bases. A vigilant eye was given to the sunken steppe for all else seemed safe along the cliffside, until reaching sunken shoals.

By high tide they reached their destination, and it could be felt by a strong pull along the cliffside -- the bony fish elevated off the plain and moved more swiftly grazing the rapidly swinging sea-weed forest... it was obvious the high tide allowed them to move with greater agility during this time than otherwise... and they were not alone...

Standing outside of sunken shoals was a train of lobster-men (as best as they could be described) also taking advantage of the high tide to move with agility that would normally be denied their bulky frames. Inside the shoal where the current was weak they moved ponderously to harvest the very things the sea dwarves saw of value before -- mostly that which was edible... with the crude tools they had found abandoned before.

Instead of gaining access to the caves of sunken shoal they were confronted by a detatchment of no fewer than fifteen Lobstermen. Thier heads were a bulk of pusling compound eyes, sensory stalks and long armored whisks, their claws hanging low on their frame like great weapons and shields alike, while the whole massive weight of the things seemed to rest on four of it's eight spindly legs like a centaur if it had a crimson, fanning tail sweeping turbulence beneath it. The remaining four lesser limbs ended in either two rapier appendages or two finer sensory palps they kept hugged close to their undermass.

If they communicated in any way at all, it was alien to the Sea Dwarves. Right now, it looked more like they threatened an altercation if the sea dwarves did not withdraw, and for them to be quick about it...
 
Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion

The prototype of the “White Engine” was designed by the highborn – good relations with other factions made working out the prototype possible, with the Highborn paying generous prices for materials and expertise (-5 wealth.)

It would still take an amount of time to produce more than a single engine, but for now the first “White Engine” was attached to the sample railway track able to show how such a device could move coaches and carts of materials. Time would tell if other factions would be willing to adopt the technology and the required access to track the colony as a whole. (+influence dependent on adoption of technology, 3 per faction showing interest in the future)

Meanwhile, the Tactician and their taskforce tracked the manticore to a filthy lair carved out of the side of some collapsed buildings – the bones of Large predators scattered about the outside. Would the Highborn storm the lair of the creature? Lure it outside? Lay a trap? They had found their quarry – it's gravely snoring swirling the dust at the foot of the cave. How would they proceed?

The highborn come out against the Fennec use of Miscreated, but without the support of other factions and a willingness to use force, the condemnation is largely toothless. Fennec use of Miscreated actually INCREASES in the days to come – the Fennec using the ample capybara and shark meat and waste in the colony to make greater and greater numbers of “Rat-Shark” or “Shark-Rat” miscreated. An audience with the “Transcendent” is denied for a variety of spurious bureaucratic reasons.

@heyitsjwon SpiralErrant SpiralErrant

The Attolians and Tyren together manage to sweep up almost the entirety of loose animals and bring a swift end to the havoc they could cause, while all other factions got a share (especially the fennec for their miscreated) for now a great paddock was constructed with a small herd of zebra, buffalo, elk, deer, and a variety of other beasts. Paricular to the TYREN, their master herdsmen were able to capture the bulk of the elephants and even three odd RHINOS as they grazed out in the pastures – before seeing elephants and rhinos the idea of a Tyren war-mount was laughable, but the spring-born quickly brought them to heel and began pacifying them for whatever the Tyren, or the colony – had planned for them.

@heyitsjwon

A great trade fleet of the Attolians travelled back to the old world, laden with all the odds and ends it could bear and goods of the colony – protected by their sea-wolf mercenaries, it's chances or reaching the capital unmolested were high. Rumors abound that a shadowy ship with tattered sails awaited the Attolian fleet as an escort – but even many of the sailors were quick to deny seeing such things. By late fall the ships would return, laden with wealth or whatever the attolians sought to bring back with them.

With access to the mage's guild, secrets of “crystals as prisons” were mined from their text – further techniques for growing faster and stronger crystal formations became available to the colony, most of all the attolians – and in the deepest reaches of the text it seemed secrets lingered of how to make… none other than… the tears of divinity. Such lore would be nigh impossible to harvest without great dedication, labor, and even wealth and materials – but there it was, at it's heart the book held the secrets to creating the tears. A startling find.

The potion of supreme healing was duplicated and delivered unto Caelis, with all the medical help at his side to keep him away from the cusp of death. It was an unexpected effect that the chalice to duplicate it was disenchanted in the process, but even after Caelis was given the leaden chalice with the potion, the original potion was still in the possession of the attolians. It seemed the magical duplicating chalice had a limited amount of mana, drained easily by the splendourous power of the healing concoction. Mages speculated the chalice might be recharged – but infinite potions of supreme healing would likely remain out of reach, even if the chalice could be restored.

Caelis felt like a new man after drinking the potion, and stronger for the ministrations of his experts. (Caelis gains greater health and strength!) word echoed amoung his people and beyond that Caelis was “Undying” – That his being laid low only caused him to rise the stronger every time. It was a strange occurance to see a small cult revering “Caelis the Undying” pop up in the colony – mostly replacing the disillusioned ex-cultists of the blood fountain, but gaining other adherents as well. How to react to such strangeness? Statues of Caelis popped up in the Platz… and to some exclamation, in the Pantheon. Though Caelis seemed to have a modest following… he had to come to grips with the fact, that to some at least – he was a Nomarch now.

Work to exhume and recover fragments of “Spire Ten” that were sunken in the high shearcliffs reservoir came to early success – the use of considerable labor, expertise, and great magnetic blocks was successful in pulling and capturing the magnetic mines poised to prevent the ruin from being recovered.
When all was said and done, a great amount of random debris and the top two stories of tower were pulled from the depths. Further recovery would take even more time and be even more dangerous as what remained to be recovered lay in the middle of the minefield where drawing them away previously would now draw them together. The intact part of the tower was full of silt and mud, but it could already be seen, though giant feat of engineering, that the most important piece of the spire (though it's base was speculated as exceedingly vital as well) was now in the hands of attolians. The waste of automatons rusted beyond repair honeycombed the wreckage and the areas uncovered, making the bottom of the reservoir look like a watery, mass grave now… but the extractions had been made without detonating any of the mines.

Using their steam shovel and an expert and nearly tireless force of labor – the skeletons truly tireless, in fact – the Attolians dug out huge deposits of salt, more than they could have hoped for initially (Salt now becomes common resource to the colony) – their plan for the bulk of it, was to deliver it to the gnolls for the salting of the earth in an attempt to slow or stop the advance of the aggressive “Asphodel” vines. Time would tell if the gnolls were successful, but the colony as a side effect gained better food preservation and sanitary conditions with the introductions of vast amounts of salt at market.
While some cave fishers were disturbed, they were quickly captured and put to their husbandry for silk and glue. General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch However, the attolians digging a open pit in the vicinity of the firebeards (who had spread quite widely underground during the winter) may have caused offense. No dwarven tunnels were actually compromised, but a few were uncovered in the excavation… it would be up to the firebeards to decide how to react…

A large ranch was started by the attolians, but ultimately completed by all the factions seeking capture of the animals. For now, besides the Tyren already claiming the bulk (two Dozen!) great elephants and 3 Rhinos SpiralErrant SpiralErrant the rest of the animals were in the custody of attolia and the larger colony… with the exception of all the animals the fennec grabbed to make miscreated, that is…
 
The Stoutmen of Standin
Stoutman Sigil.png​
The sound of feasting and music was heard from behind the walls of New Harmony for several days as the Green Festival commenced in early spring. Cartloads of cakes, hunted animals, and meat provisions were purchased from the market or made in the households of the Stouts and brought to six great tables hewn of oak logs that were arrayed in the street. While the adults laid aside their labor to partake in the festivities, the older Stout boys erected a maypole and the young women decorated it with ribbons of every conceivable color. There were hour-long church services that gave way to lawn sports, contests of brawn and brains. Pole and ax-throwing contests, wood-cutting contests, and archery tournaments were all observed. Some of the garrison even volunteered to mount borrowed ponies and joust with blunted lances, to the great amusement of the crowd.

At night, a hundred torches in a hundred hands illuminated the streets like broad daylight as the town engaged in an hours-long game of hide-and-seek, then waking from their revelries at midday the Stouts rose to eat and be merry again. The festival continued for three blessed days, the gates remaining open to outsiders that wished to partake in the celebration. On the fourth day of festivities, the priests made a series of elaborate blessings and incantations over the fields, performed healing rituals, and presided over a dance in a flat area of open ground that involved the young male Stouts pairing up with their unmarried counterparts. On the fifth day, the Stouts arose drunken with cheer and cleaned away the refuse of the grand party, contended and invigorated for the hard work ahead.

Much had to be thought of, for instance, what to do with the elephants that they had captured days prior. A set of great iron chains were forged specifically for holding the male elephant, as Reverend Kearney informed them that he had once read that, "male oliphants are often dangerous in their musk," in an old Imperial tome, whatever that meant. They considered reaching out to some of the other factions, perhaps paying one of them to help with the taming of the creatures. A special stone corral was built for the elephants, while a few Draftstouts who had knowledge in husbandry attempted to tame them.

The wild ponies were an even greater boon, and an expert equestrian was soon picked out amongst their numbers to begin breaking them and breeding them for draft work and military purposes. They were the perfect size for the slightly diminutive Stouts, who rode very uncomfortably on full-size horses. Six Stalwarts and two Draftstouts were commissioned with building a horse corral for the purpose of keeping them.

Work continued apace on the watchtowers to the east, and for now the Stouts abandoned their ambition of building a large border wall. They did, however, seize upon talk of an upcoming expedition to the nearby mountains and offered up some troops and healers for the expedition, as well as food rations and drink. The messengers carrying dispatches back to Learner's Square noticed as they passed by on the road to the colony that a family of Stouts had set up a sort of homestead on the road near the river. As the weeks went by, it became apparent that this was in fact a new business. The Stout proprieter--one Roger Ablesrock--had established the Wayfarer's Rest as a small stopover for travelers on the road to get food, wagon repairs, water their horses, sleep, etc. Time would tell if the venture proved successful, but the Stouts who traveled back to the colony often found it a pleasant place to rest from the road and listen to a bardling play a tune.

Six days after the festival had ended, there was a mass drill of all the Standish militia. Their captains arrayed them on some of the unused fields outside the walls in their black and white gambeson and practiced marching in columns and lines and forming square formation with their pikes. The Stouts who showed promise with swords were given blunted blades and allowed to duel for sport, and the whole exercise took several hours. The officers trained the men hard, and expected a level of general competence that would maintain them in a fight against an even opponent.

Besides this, the Stouts carried on about the business of living and living merrily. There were weddings and births, and thankfully no funerals this time.

 
Lady Esteri and the elders speak before the council. Heyitsjiwon Heyitsjiwon Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion

With plenty going on and the Proud-Horn's looking to make their mark in the new lands it naturally fell to Esteri to be their leading voice in front of the assembled Colony Council. Though she was new to the local politics this golden pelted shebull held herself with an easy dignity and spoke in a soft way that hardly seemed possible for such a deep voiced race.

Today she decided to ease herself into the council affairs and (she assumed) her future role within the colony. Today she came with two points to bring to the council and the first at least was a simple passing on of her new people's will.

The application of The Stouts! Shireling Shireling

Harun'Taras welcomes the people of Standin into the council. They have shown themselves to be clear and firm in their beliefs, and to understand what it is to have one's culture threatened. Harun'Taras and its people look forward to future cooperations between the two peoples.

[The Tyren vote YES on accepting the stouts into the council]

The matter of the new livestock!

With a sudden flood of new working animals and herbivores arriving in the colony the shepherd wagons wish to bring up an issue very close to their hearts. Animal welfare. The Tyren support the current scheme of multiple groups sharing custody over the majority of the "small game" animals and the building of the ranch that currently houses them. It's in the hope of continuing in such a peaceful way and for the sake of their new charges that they wish for official laws to be put through, so that all parties can act as one and that future settlers will have a clear understanding of how they are expected to treat their own livestock.

Esteri would go on to say, "Each of the council powers have taken varying animals into their care, be it those they brought with them or others they have tamed since arriving. And each group has consistently treated these animals with care and dignity, showing they value the living standards of their animals. Even those that may eventually be slaughtered, such acts have never been done out of careless blood lust but for the continued feeding and health of the greater colony. It is this thinking we wish to bring forward, that we might combine the knowledge and skills of all our peoples for the greater good of those in our care. These laws we wish to pass are mostly things that colonial experts already adhere to but we feel it is important to have them in writing. For a law, however obvious, marks the morality of a people and what they hold dear. By doing so we will show the world that we care about the health and dignity of even the smallest members of this colony."

The law they went on to outline would be summerised in these basic tenants:

- That those who make a claim on a livestock animal can prove it does not hold true intelligence. This will most likely not come up often but is intended as a safeguard for more animalistic citizens such as The Olm and may rely on the colony's protection from slavery.

- That those who make a claim on a livestock animal can provide their charge with appropriate living conditions and supply them with a healthy diet of food and drink for their species.

- Further to the above, that said owner takes proper steps to make sure citizens are safe from any violence on the part of their animals.

- And the most welfare focused article. That should an animal be slaughtered then the owner can show that this killing is done for justifiable reasons (such as being killed for meat to feed the colony as opposed to being killed for the fun of it) and that such killings are done in a way that causes as little distress to the animal and others as possible. (Such as being taken to a quiet place, calmed and killed swiftly and cleanly as opposed to being torn apart or bled slow).

As they had said, most of these things were practiced by the farmers and butchers of the colony already but passing the law would hold everyone to a good standard and allow the council to step in should any livestock or pets be at risk of abuse. The Tyren even put themselves forward as willing to have their own farms inspected first as a sign of good faith.

All that remained was for the council to vote.
 
Caelis' eyes slowly opened. He found himself staring at the ceiling of the Healer's Guild oddly enough. Last he remembered... he was wrought with pain after attempting to exorcise the Fountain. It was then that he remembered. "Cassandra!" He gasped. Caelis tore the blanket off himself and leaped out of bed. His head ached, his visioned twisted and turned. His legs threatened to give up, and buckle. Yet, he knew that he had to find out if they were successful. He abruptly opened the door that led to the main hall of the Healer's Guild, and there, stunned, stood a familiar face.

priestess_by_vinogradovalex-d6ccrzb.jpg


Her distinct crimson hair and robes, were blanched. The fiery aura replaced with a somber atmosphere. Even her dress no longer seemed to accentuate her form. Yet, there she was. Caelis knew... that it worked. They had defeated the demon and retrieved Cassandra's soul. He collapsed once more as his legs finally gave out as he sighed in relief. He looked up and a pair of surprised and concerned eyes looked at him. "My Lord! Are you all right?" she meekly said as she moved to help him up. Her eyes flicked between looking at Caelis and at something behind him. He turned to look and to his confusion... the door seemed to be slightly off its hinges now. Such flimsy build... Caelis would make a mental note for the architects to check the Healer's Guild... a weak building housing the sick and injured? Such a mistake would not be tolerated.

Regardless, Caelis slowly got up with Cassandra's help while she urged him to return to his ward in the Healer's Guild. Caelis declined. He could not be in bed for much longer. Not when he had to lead. Thus, he decided to walk around the Platz to show that he was of good health. Cassandra came in tow to ensure that he would not just collapse in the middle of the street. At first, he still felt off, but as he walked and time went by. Caelis simply felt better. It was amazing how sometimes some fresh air and walking can cure things. In fact, it was not too much later until he was seen near skipping and bursting with energy. People saw him full of life and energy, and word soon spread. Caelis went around, thanking all those who had helped with the Fountain. Then he went to thank those who took care of business while he rested and healed. Eventually he came to see his brother who excitedly came to shake his hand and give him a bear hug. "Ouch. Your hand grip is stronger than ever. Looks like the doctors did a good job all right."

Days continued to go by. Word spread further of Caelis' return from the brink of death. It seemed that people came to realize and believe that the Red Fountain was no more than a conniving whisperer of promises, and that many had been deluded, even Caelis at one point. However, it was seen through and decisive action was taken to deal with the demon. Many came to see Caelis as a holy figure, defending the Colony till the brink of death, but always returning and stronger than ever. Much to his concern... statues and figures of him rose around the Platz. Even small figures of a wolf began to pop up as a small idol representing Caelis. "Caelis the Undying" was the moniker that people placed upon him as they raised a statue even in the Pantheon in his form. He didn't really know how to respond... people were free to believe what they wanted to believe... but as a leader, he wanted to inspire others to rise above. That the feats he performed was something that all humans could do. He intended to lead by example. Thus, he kept silent on the matter. As a lord, he learned early on that the matters of the church should be separate and that he shouldn't interfere. Thus, that was what he would do. People were left to believe what they wanted. Still, it bothered him to learn that Cassandra had also been participating in this new religion. "Hail our Lord, the Undying, Ecclesiarch of the Pantheon!" From one god to another... her devotion to Caelis was startling, and now that he was a local god... she was an ardent supporter of Caelis the Undying.

Trepidation and concern began to fill Caelis once more. The matters of gods were something not to be trifled with, and yet around every corner seemed to be more challenges.
 
The Attolian Response SpiralErrant SpiralErrant Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion Shireling Shireling

Mr. Specter, Esquire, was in attendance at the Council meeting as Lothar was busy with the overseeing the Grand Hunt and Caelis had just recently stirred from his coma. In response to the first matter, he said "It has come to my attention that the Stouts have applied to join the Colonial Government. However, their past actions raises some concerns among the Attolians. One was their complete initial disregard for the Colonial Government in their slash and burn of the former Mud Elf lands. Rather reckless in the eyes of the Attolians as the lands had just been purged of the Horned One and the Mud Elves. Regardless, we requested that they be bound to care for the woods in reparations for the damages that they caused, a rather lenient judgement. However, the recent incident with the Fennec destroying the Blue Paw's tunnels and the subsequent home invasion and murder of the remaining Ratkin was reacted to promptly with the freezing of Fennec assets. The Stouts then spread discontent and vitriol for so called Attolian heavy handedness.

Yet, here we are, with the Fennec doing as they please without paying proper reparations for their crimes, and creating unholy abominations with animals parts. In addition, the stouts have been seen proselytizing. The Attolians see the Stouts and their past actions as inciting unrest and religious strife. For these continued grievances, the Attolians will vote in the negative until these points are addressed. Several suggestions for how they can be addressed are: 1. that the Stouts can vow to cease proselyting those who do not seek out their religious guidance, 2. the stout recognize the Pantheon as a legitimate religion and promise to enforce the freedom of religion, and 3. the Stouts apologize for their clearly misspoken words on the Fennec matter.

In fact, the Attolian envoy wishes to push forward another proposal in regards to the Fennec. The Attolians request that the Council to support an initiative for the Attolians to seize the Fennec ships as collateral for their reparations. Until their crimes are reasonably atoned for, the Fennec should not be able to freely profit from their crimes. The Attolians also request that the Council begin measures to ensure that justice is carried out and that this proposal serves as the first step. If proper reparations are not given, then worse penalties are inflicted.

In regards to the second Tyren proposal, the Attolians agree in principle, but find the execution of the law to be questionable, specifically the first point of true intelligence. How is true intelligence to be measured? For example, the Mother Fisher was known to be able to somewhat communicate through telepathy. Is that true intelligence? The Hiver Princes are able to communicate with the other ants in the Fennec quarry and request things of them. Are those ants true intelligence? Is the test for true intelligence the ability to spout grievances at this table? If so, then Rex, the Beast Mage, is able to communicate with animals rather well. In fact, he would likely be able to tell the council that the capybara that is about to be slaughtered in the kitchen of Donkey Rats doesn't want to be murdered. All that capybara needs is a translator. Thus, the way that the first tenet is currently presented... the Attolians cannot agree with as it is simply too vague. However, the Attolians agree with the other tenets."
 
Prince Vaethorion Prince Vaethorion @heyitsjwon

Blood, fire and prayer...

It was no easy task… but it was done. The fountains were sanctified. The level of ethereal and spiritual grime on the blood fountain was substantial, some so subtle it was beyond the sight of man or mage, but the highborn saw deeper. Nothing would anchor the demon to this world, nothing would give it a purchase back – nothing was it's fate and of that the highborn were sure. The blessings in the Platz overflowed to the market and the populace, and a general feeling of well-being set in, in the absence of the wiles of the demon.

The highborn, riding this tide, held a festival in the highborn villas – in time with the celebrations of the stouts, the entire colony was pulled into one celebration or another, and if not either of those some spring bread and circuses spun by the fennec for coin and prosperity. For a time, the shadow of the cull was forgotten, and the new year was welcomed agrand.

The fate of Caelis was saw to and saved. It required the highborn use of the blood tear – and none other than the best efforts of all the healers and half the mages in the colony – but Caelis had risen stronger than ever. Daring the limits of what a man was, some whispered. The highborn would have to watch him carefully. Immortal power and mayflies never mixed – but it was necessary to use the most extreme magics to save the Attolian lord – and the Attolians would do well to know Caelis' life was saved by the colony, but first saved by the highborn.

By the end of it all highborn celebration reached every corner of the colony (-1 wealth) and even the fennec and the highborn cast aside their differences that seemed petty in the new era of purity and goodwill. As was said, even the dour stouts were celebrating. It was a most enjoyable and auspicious time.

As final rites the high Planetar was honored, with mana jewels and rarest flowers to their temple. The angel themselves was withdrawn… busy with the affairs of “The Heirophant Project” the highborn had invested so much power and faith in…

Of beasts and wool...

SpiralErrant SpiralErrant

The great loom atop the shearcliff waterfall was slowly, but finally completed. While it would not be fully operational until the end of spring, it was already capable of processing all the wool and materials the Tyren could throw into it. The Water of the reservoir provided the power, further augmented by the strengths and guidance of the craft-bulls. Insanely fine fabrics began to be produced – of a temper and feel that even the highborn had to appreciate. Beneath the swinging arms of the loom the waterpumps rose and fell, adding the additional feature of pulping, blending and melding a variety of woods worked by the springborn. Goldenwood fiber became a reality after encorporating the fallen bark of the golden glade – which not only made Goldweave for armored cloaks but also Golden Parchment – a high quality paper that retained magic impressions better than even the highest quality scrolls. (These two exotics are added to Tyren use/export potential) The second effect was a complete cornering of the market on fabric in the colony. Surely the highborn had their own particulars and standards and ancient ways – but soon after the loom would be operational the wearing of non Tyren-made clothing by most factions, for quality and price, became a silly idea. (+4 influence Tyren) The springborn labored hard in working the fine labors to make clothing suitable for each race, but even kobolds would be wearing Tyren cloth by winter. (Quantity of cloth in colony is effectively limitless!)

The grand wrangling, as it was called, was a tremendous success… because so many factions were grasping for animals, in the end it wound up a communal effort, but the Tyren especially could be thanked (along with the Attolian Beast mage) for rounding up every single creature from the menagerie district. A great ranch was constructed for the animals, though certain factions had their own prizes, all around. The largest beasts came to the Tyren however, and it was seen that elephants and rhinos, normally quite excitable, were relaxed to the Tyren Hand. The Grumps were well pleased. The animals were now a resource utilizable to all the factions equally.
 
Beckoncall Beckoncall SpiralErrant SpiralErrant

"Garment District"

To meet the high demand, the Highborn increased the manufacturing of their suits of Ballistic-silk armor for sale and distribution to the military of the various factions colony. Once that demand was met, the armor was stockpiled for shipment to be sold as a trade good. The armor for a price could be brought to a Highborn tailor to be customized to reflect the tastes of individuals with enough coil and the suits of armor could be personalized to reflect the various factions. To the Highborn, the functionality was as important as the style and how the object made the owner of it feel. For the non-military personnel the Highborn manufactured "Fashion-mor". The ballistic clothes was made into a fashionable wear. It was not something heavy infantry would want to wear into the heat of battle, but enough protection to stop a blade or arrow from a cutthroat or hostile. This would help allow the Highborn to maintain their niche in High quality clothes and fashion. The Highborn began experimenting using the Cave spider silk with the Goldweave. As the Highborn tailors and Inventor tinkered with this idea, the Tyren sent word that they also thought the two materials could be combined. This synergy between the Tyren and Highborn improved relations even more. As a gesture, the Highborn Prince ordered his master armorer to make a special suit of armor in the Highborn manner for Orm. It was hybrid of Spider Silk, Mithril Silver and Goldweave. The Fisher Silk Ballistic cloth upon suggestion of the Tyren is wove into this new hybrid material in order to be able walk among the Cull. The layered materials are engineered and designed for protection against all kinds of damage and attacks. The Goldweave would help against crushing blows. Iron bull hardpoints, Mithril, Fisher Silk Ballistic cloth made for good protection, the Goldweave perfected it (or at least the Highborn Armorers hoped). The Armor was lighter and more maneuverable than one would think.

MinotaurKnight-ChaoticGood-Full-03.png

The Highborn had skilled tailors, and a tailor shop sprung up in the Highborn Villa area near the road to Harunturas and the Stoutlands to take advantage of the new boom in Tyren clothes. The Highborn used their already running clothing manufacturing facilities to turn the Goldweave into every clothing item imaginable. Cloaks, shirts, pants, dresses, sweaters socks, scarves, undergarments, pajamas and even Parasols and umbrellas. The Highborn would insure that their designers, clothes and tailors would be sought after. (Highborn spend 3 influence to secure High end niche of garment industry). The Highborn already had tailors servicing the Capital, the Platz, the Highborn quarter, now the Villas. The Highborn would hope to entice the wealthy Tyren to wear the Highborn designer clothing and armor. To make it more appealing to the Tyren, not only were their body types considered carefully, but their fighting styles as well. The Highborn now had a greater insight into the fighting styles of the Tyren warrior and used that knowledge to make armor for the Tyren. The Highborn would apply the knowledge of the various factions fighting styles and put the design into armor made for their factions upon demand.

The Highborn tailors seized the opportunity with the new Goldweave fabric that hit the market. The touch of the Springborn is what made it appealing to to the Highborn. The Highborn had a loom for some time now, it was more intricate, sophisticated, it was by far superior in design (or at least the Highborn believed so), but it was not as large as the Tyren Loom.

The Highborn collaborate with the Tyren loom (the Tyren assign 1 Tree singer and 5 Spring born to work with the Highborn Engineer), the Highborn Inventor, and engineer believed they could improve it. Secondly, the Highborn had an idea to the use the loom to produce two products. One, was Sail Cloth. The Highborn thought to make sails from Spider silk, but the idea of weaving the Spider silk with Goldenweave to make Sails for the fledgling Ship manufacturing in the Colony, but also for trade. The other commodity, that the Highborn thought the Great Loom would be well suited for was for Carvan tents. This would be useful for the Colonial expeditions. The Highborn were to manufacture tents from the Goldeweave. To do so, the Highborn would seek to improve upon the fabric to make it waterproof by making the thread count extremely tight and fine. This is the modification that the Highborn inventor believed he could do for the Tyren Loom. The fineness of the weave is everything thought the Highborn. The Highborn would use the Sea Lubricant as a waterproofing agent. The Highborn also studied the patterns on butterflies, and how certain leaves shed water flawlessly. The Highborn sought to emulates those patters in their weaves. The tents, large and small would be used for outfitting expeditions, trade caravans, festivals/events, military campaigns, for accommodating new arrivals and and as a trade good. (note: The Tyren agreed to the Highborn request)

Orders:
The Highborn experiment combining Cave spider silk with Goldweave to make a new material for a new line of clothes. The Highborn are of the same mind of the Tyren who suggest the same. The idea of using it against the Cull is in mind. Experimentation with the various materials to make armor.
Highborn design armor for Orm as prototype for new armor and material using Mithril, Iron Bull, Ballistic Cave Fisher silk and the piece d' resistance "Goldweave".

Highborn increase production of Ballistic Silk Cloth armor to sell to All Colonial military personnel and then for trade.

The Highborn have their tailors and clothing manufacturers design, make, tailor and sell clothing made from Goldweave.


The Highborn market, and sell their line of Fashionable ballistic clothes that look like regular clothes.

Highborn spend 3 influence to promote their designs of Goldweave to the secure the High end market.

SpiralErrant SpiralErrant The Highborn present idea/business venture. The Highborn believe they can improve the Tyren loom. The Highborn are interested in making cloth of Goldweave with Cave spider silk to make Sails and tents for local use and trade.

The Highborn use the value of the Ballistic clothe Armor to leverage 10 wealth from the Market.

Highborn and Blood-touched.

The Elite Highborn Swordmasters benefited greatly from training with the Blood-touched. The rage, strength, and endurance of the Tyren warriors was incredibly formidable. The Highborn had grown to respect and appreciate the Tyren. This was a drastic change from their initial prejudices towards the Tyren. The Highborn Swordmasters looked leaner and their muscles were more defined than ever. In honor of this training the Highborn crafted a small Bullhead and star insignia medal for the Swordmasters and Blood-Touched to commemorate their intense training together.


"White Engine" General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch SpiralErrant SpiralErrant Heyitsjiwon Heyitsjiwon Spacekitty Spacekitty Shireling Shireling

The Highborn were determined to demonstrate how useful the "White Engine" and tracked transport could be for the Colony. The Highborn Engineer created a presentation to be shown. The Engineer had a large map of the Colony and it's surroundings presented on a board. On the map was all the landmarks of the Colony and the lands surrounding. Imposed over the map was the proposal of a tracked system of transportation. Heavy goods, people, trade goods and raw materials could be transported about the Colony with ease if this came to full fruition. Tracks led on the map to every faction, and that was expected. What was surprising to some was how the tracks seemingly led to nowhere in some cases, to the fringes of the map and to areas barely explored. "The "White Engine" can bring civilization to where there is none. It could create supply lines effortlessly if implemented how the HIghborn imagined. The Highborn then broke down their argument for the "White Engine". It would ease the traffic on our roads, it would make it easier on our beasts of burden (appealing to the Humane side of the Tyren), it would increase production (appealing to the Attolian sense of industry, it could help with mining and moving ore (appealing to the Dwarves), it could move goods to and away from the Stoutman area on the Cliffs, and it could help move Goods to and from the Fennec area. It will bring the entire Colony closer to each other. What once took a day travel might just take an hour or less." The map showed the tracks moving from the Port, up to the Platz, from their the tracks went North, East and West. To the East they went over a bridge to the former Mud Lands and into the Mountains. In the North they went by Villas, to the Capital, to the Harunturas and to the Stout area. To the West tracks went into the Theater district and into the ruins. To the North West they went to the Northern Outposts and connected the Coal mines. One could see on the map there were some tracks that were different colors and that reflected stages of development and proposed routes.

The Engineer and Inventor in introducing the new invention, first gave rides to the leaders of the Colony's factions and then to the Colonist who were curious to give it a try. . The Highborn hoped that the excitement of the invention would help encourage the various factions to invest money and labor in the project. The Highborn were determined to go ahead with a limited line regardless, but it would be far more beneficial for the project if it had the full blessing and support of the Colony. The Highborn had an ambitious plan to make two kinds of rail. A heavy rail for freight, raw materials, and goods, and a light rail for transporting colonist.

Shireling Shireling General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch Spacekitty Spacekitty Heyitsjiwon Heyitsjiwon SpiralErrant SpiralErrant

The Highborn request 3 wealth in the form of an investment and 30 laborers from the various factions to help develop a rail system for the Colony. The Highborn think it will benefit the Colony immensely. The Highborn announce the formation of a transport Company named "The Colonial Transport Company" and proposes that a transport authority be formed in the Colonial Government to oversee all forms of transportation.

The Filthy Evil Manticore

The Highborn detachment of The Tactician, 10 Swordmasters, 10 Elite Spearman, and 10 Archers, 31 strong they approached silently. The Tactician studied the terrain and conditions for a potential battle. The Manticore was seemingly asleep, but the Highborn Tactician would take no chances. The Manticore could be feigning sleep, the Manticore could be a light sleeper, the Manticore could be accompanied by others, and the Manticore had home advantage. Manticores were no creature to take lightly. The Highborn were familiar with this creature. In fact, the Highborn Tamer wore some Manticore hide as part of his armor, but he was not present. The stunningly beautiful Tactician, her long platinum blond hair was braided today, her yellow eyes were exceptionally alert. Her Mithril armor which upon arrival to the New World shined like the noon sun, was now for the exploration covered with soot used to stop the reflectiveness of the Mithril and to blend in. The thirty Highborn accompanying were all dressed to better blend in to their environment. The Tactician examined the entrance to the lair. Were there only one set of tracks? Was there anything above the ruined structure that could be used land on the Manticore? How wide or narrow was the entrance, how high was the entrance? How far into the lair did the Manticore sleep? What vulnerabilities did the Manticore have? Depending on the layout the Tactician thought of three different plans of attack and depending on the circumstances and her wisdom would choose the best one.

The first idea was a straightforward attack. Presuming that the nocturnal Manticore was asleep and alone, the Highborn force would advance far enough for the ten Archers, from behind the shields of the Spearman, and/or using available cover, to get a "Volley of Light" shot off at the Manticore head. The Shields and cover would offer some protection from the Manticore counter attack if it survived the initial volley. As this was occurring, the Swordmasters in two groups of five would flank the manticore from right and left, the Elite Spearman with shields would attack from a front, moving with the archers that would continue firing volleys of arrows.

The Second idea depending on the terrain, was for the Highborn Archers at a distance fire a "Volley of the Light" at Manticore, and quickly retreat hoping the Manticore if still alive, and enraged, chase the archers and would spring an ambush of Spearman below (covering the Archers retreat) and if possible with Swordmasters above the Entrance to leap upon the Manticore to stab and slash the Manticore. The Archers once they were free of the Lair would turn and fire at the Manticore as the Swordmasters and Spearman attacked.

Third Idea, Set ambush for nightfall and wait for the Manticore to exit lair. Take caution as to not give away position with smell or sound. (don't be down wind for example). A similar ambush as idea two, but possibly using loose debris, boulders to collapse it as a trap when given the signal. (only if there was a possibility of doing so without waking the Manticore prematurely). If not, a similar ambush as idea 2. The Swordmasters wait above, anticipating the Manticore flying or exiting the Lair. They pounce once Archers fire "Volley of Light", if the Manticore attacks Archers hidden under cover and protected by ten Elite Spearman, the ten Swordmasters will attack, swords aloft to slay the Manticore, the ten Elite Spearman with shields aloft use their spears as the Archers fire at the Manticore's face and vulnerable spots. (Alternatively. if a trap with debris cannot be made a lasso of a very strong rope could be used to lasso the Manticore, the other end of the rope being tied to something.)

There were all the various, best possibilities for attack the Tactician had. It would largely depend on the layout of the lair and the Tactician's knowledge of fighting Manticores.

. The Highborn tactician used hand signals to convey her plan of attack to her force. The Highborn made up their mind, and got into position....

Order:

The expedition force of 31 Highborn formulate attack plan and get into position to attack Manticore.

Miscreated

The Highborn were not going to sit idly by, as the Fennec toyed with forces they had no understanding of, and threatened the colony with their abominations. The Miscreated violate several principles of Good magic, morality, decency and were a danger to the Colony. There was also the moral dilemma of abusing another creature. The newly presented laws by the Tyren would ban the Miscreated, as they were a definite case of animal cruelty. The Highborn raise the matter at the Meeting of the Colonial government. The Highborn Prince, tall, splendid, flawlessly exquisite to the mortal eye, he was wearing a variant of one of his new armor made from Mithril and Ballistic silk. The long flowing, cloak the High Elf wore seemed to change colors, it was green, it was grey, it was blue, it was brown? or was it? It was seemingly iridescent and yet muted. It was mildly distracting. The Prince laid out the objections of the Highborn, and NOTED that several other leaders of the Colony and colonist have expressed disgust, concern, apprehension over the Miscreated.

The Prince gravely States, "My Esteemed fellow Colonial Leaders, The Fennec are like small children playing with fire. They have no idea of what dangers they are messing with. Not only are the Highborn determined to save the colony from these tortured creatures, the Highborn are determined to save the Fennec from themselves. I see now the childish nature of the Fox Folk gets them into harms way. They remind me a bit of Highborn toddlers, they are full of curiosity and love of the world, but do not understand danger when they see it. They-do-not-understand-danger-when-they -see-it. (the Highborn Prince repeated the sentence slowly for emphasis). They poke their fellow Colonist with a stick and it's of great humor for them. it's all fun and games till someone loses a head my Mother always told me. I don't want to see the Fennec lose their heads. Their heads are rather cute and furry. The Fox Folk have grown on me, and in many ways they have contributed positively to the Colony. However, their old, mischievous ways persist. It's tiresome for me, to stand here and repeatedly make complaints about the Fox Folk. We will not complain long. Here I am, politely requesting the Fennec to cease this abhorrent creation of abominations. I am also asking my fellow Colonial leaders to convey to the Fennec that this matter is serious. It needs to be addressed and their full compliance is requested. Or what? I am not here to make threats. I am here as a Brother of Arms. If our request is denied, if this continues, we will consider it to be a serious insult, a violation of the Fennec prohibition and will demand action. Perhaps, my tact, needs improvement. The Fennec perhaps need to better understand that they are violating principles of the Arcane laid out by Mages millennia ago. Not only are the creatures they are creating are inherently unstable and dangerous, they are tormented. The Fennec need to understand that they may create something horrible that is beyond their control. They need to understand that this is a serious matter. The Highborn are asking the Fennec to resolve this matter on their own. Perhaps a compromise can be found. Perhaps, with the contributions of other mages of the Colony, the endeavor of the Fennec can be calibrated better to both minimize any suffering the creatures are enduring and to create a more stable creation with magic that is Lighter. We are asking for the Fennec to work with the Colonial government to resolve this matter. I am asking my Fellow leaders of the Colonial factions to speak their minds and back the Highborn in this matter. We would like this to be resolved amicably and promptly. There are other issues regarding the Fennec that need to be discussed, but at this time we would like the creations of the abominations to stop immediately. We think that under the newly proposed Tyren law, this would prohibit the torture of animals and the creation of new Miscreated. The Tyren, in their compassion are willing to attempt to rehabilitate the existing the Miscreated in lieu of destroying them. Thank you esteemed members, I for now give up the floor, but there are other issues to discuss regarding the Fennec, namely the Snake cult, the murder of the Ratkin, their lurking assassins and their acts of espionage against fellow Colonial members. This we shall discuss later, thank you." - The Prince gracefully nods and sits down.


Trade Ships

The Highborn use the 10 wealth they leverage from the Market using the popularity of the Ballistic Cloth Armor to buy trade goods from the other factions and load them on the Highborn trade ships. The Ships that the Highborn purchased are arriving just now, and the ones that were manufactured. They load the ships with their Ballistic Cloth armor and many of the same commodities they successfully sold on their last trade mission. They send out ten fast ships and if possible depart or catch up with the Attolian convoy.

Book of Crystals as Prison

The Highborn Arch Mage help study the "Crystals as Prisons" along with the Attolians and begin to document their findings in coded writings on the Newly created Golden parchment and to help discover more information on the Tears of Divinity. A Plan to how to decipher the text on the Tears would be developed in the Mage Guild. A breakdown of what resources and materials, would be needed should be assessed to work on the Tear Project.

The Highborn Mage will apply the new knowledge of growing Crystals to the Anthracite coal deposits, mana crystals and will use the knowledge to try to grow various precious stones. In coordination with the Magical item designed to grow crystals.

Wood Elf Tome

The Highborn Cleric and the Highborn Linguist works with the Tyren mages to help decipher the Wood Elf tome.


The Portal

The Highborn request all factions to contribute wealth and magical power into the Portal project to expedite the project.
SpiralErrant SpiralErrant Heyitsjiwon Heyitsjiwon Spacekitty Spacekitty Shireling Shireling General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch

(there is more to be continued, I will post this now as is, it still need some adjustments in the orders for manpower and there are several more orders for the Highborn to catch up)
 
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