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The Lands of Luxum

Fishman Lord

ULTIMATE AI GOD
In the world of Luxum, races and nations of the land vie for dominance. Wars and Battles are ceaseless. Different creatures went rampant. People across the land exploited this conflict and havoc for their own gain. Warbands, guilds, mercenaries, organizations, and the like all join the greater powers in their struggle for their own reasons. And here you are, what will you do and who will you lead in this land? What fate awaits you?







Hello! So, this is a high fantasy RP where you take control of a group of people like a warband, a trading caravan, a guild, anything along those lines, and try to expand your influence and wealth and such. Sorta like Mount and Blade if you've played it. We cannot start out as nations and instead work our way up to create one. There are different playable races and different ways to start your group. You could be an outlaw king on the run from his kingdom due to being ousted, leading a warband and gathering his strength until he retakes his throne or a banished princess who plans to assassinate his father and usurp the throne. Let your imagination go wild.
 
Luxum, 587 A.C.
Luxum has been mostly stable for the past 100 years. After the Great Collapse when Maxar Unum fell into civil war and Sarybia split, there was 500 years of conflict, but recently it has fallen into more of a Cold War. However, tensions are starting to bubble up again. Yelvania and the Eastern Caliphate are losing land to the Khadak Hordes, the lords of Maxar Unum are fighting eachother more than ever and there is talk of seceding like the Eastern Provinces did so long ago. Hendanese traders are getting more competitive, Taihai grows more ambitious, and the Elves, who have always been the voice of peace and reason, are stagnant and isolationist. These could become very dangerous times.

World Events:

One of the Azkatl Kings, Orange Feather of Crumbled Pyramid, has put his daughter, Shimmering Eye of Infinite Beauty, up for marriage. Even among non-Azkatl she is known as one of the most beautiful maidens of Luxum (if you're into birds, I guess). In traditional Azkatl style, instead of being married off to any nobleman, a tournament is being held for everyone from peasants to kings to seek her favor. Many travel from all over Luxum to the Scarlet Pyramid to seek this great prize.

The Khadak Hordes have turned the once-great city of Al-Kidha into dust and fire. The Eastern Caliphate is hiring mercenaries from all realms to help stop this menace. The Khadak welcome any warrior who hates the great empires and is willing to join them.

The God Skidodopos has created an island to the north of Minar Dium. It is lush and covered with strange creatures, and many say it holds a great weapon or artifact created by Skidodopos. Many have reported seeing a Jade Dragon in the area, further validating the idea that there is something hidden there.

Valabion and Ancintaine have both ramped up their hiring of mercenaries. The war grows more vicious and the stakes higher, as now the Queen of Ancintaine has declared not only is Axeushire her rightful land, but that she is the rightful Queen of Valabion. The border region is devastated and this war is making both nations weak to outside attack.

Rumours of a cult to the Dark God Ramentep gaining influence in Henda are making everyone nervous. Ramentep rules the Vampires, and if they gained power in Henda it would give them great wealth and be a disaster for Luxum. Vampire hunters and detectives are working around the clock to stop this potential threat.

The feared Wasteland Warlord, Karshil Utmaslev, has strengthened his hold on the Koritov Woods. If he and his warriors are not stopped, a new power could rise in the East consisting of the Uyskava, who have not had a United nation for 1400 years. The east is unclaimed by any major empire except for the Dark Pinnacles of Farven Yalva.

 
Sir Veras Emrys
"The Brown Cloak"
Veras' tent was set in the middle of his warband 's camp. His band of soldiers and commander's were on the edge of Maxar Unum heading to Acintaine. In spite of all things going on in the world, it was time he paid a visit to his old empire. This time it was to make a name for himself, a name said with pride rather than reluctance on the streets. He planned to march his forces to Acintaine, under his own banner he was permitted to carry.

Just a month before he planned the march, he had written a letter to the Queen of Maxar Unum. Of course she would not approve of sending aide to two bickering powers forever locked in a feud and therefore had Veras go under his own name. He was of course still a knight although it would be made known he traveled on his own accord. The same was for his troops whom were most loyal to him. They were all personally recruited by Veras too.

Still a band of 110 solders were no match for larger armies of Duke's and king's hence his plan to recruit. His job he suspected would likely be to raid border villages and "liberate" towns. When they marched he would lose some troops and gain a bit more depending on where he decided to march upon. Perhaps he would hire some peasant in Minar Dium, a bit more in Acintaine and eventually he would loot Valabion. Despite the horror of war, it certainly had the potential to make him a very wealthy man.

To hell with the Khadak hordes and the Caliphate, he had to repair his reputation with Acintaine his homeland.
 
House Wisteria

Wistel Conference Chamber
Duke Izana along with his brother arrived at the chamber, everybody else were already waiting for them. The White Cloak captain and Vice Captain. The sword saint. The Household guard commander and his vice commander. Steward of the house. The three household advisors and the [redacted]. The brothers took their respective seats and with that, the conference has officially begun.
"A pleasant morning everybody, I have called for this conference to discuss our current situation and what moves are we gonna do." Said Izana. "What resources are we available to?"
"This is nothing compared to our previous resources. We currently have a couple exotic materials from Maxar Unum. We found them in the storage room. We can sell it and raise our funds, that way we can provide our people with more providions, but we can't keep supplying them forever." Said the economic advisor.
"I suggest we let them get jobs in the city, that way they can provide us a percentage of their salary and be able to provide for themselves. They can also expand our intelligence network inside the city." [Redacted] said. "Currently, our Intelligence network is still establishing itself on the city. Soon enough, we will have eyes and ears on every corner."
"Everything is going well then, let us just take this nice and steady." Zen commented.
"I also propose to install some of our guards to the city guards and have the White Cloaks train the city guard." Said the White Cloak Captain.
"I agree, doing so would improve our repuation amongst the local military and to the public." Said the Guard Commander.
"Let us not forget about the lord of the city and his house." Said the Steward.
"Do not worry, I will take care of that. We will improve the relations between the two houses and earn their trust and respect." Said the Diplomatic Advisor.
"We will also need to establish House Wisteria as a new house in this country. We first must need more land and influence and probably one of the Senators to vouch for us." Said the Political Advisor.
"I like all of the proposals, make all of it happen. Other than that, are there any news of the outside world."
"The bird princess is up for marriage, but I doubt we will waste resources and time on making her ours. She has influence and power, but it doesn't span towards Maxar Unum and Henda." Said [Redacted]. "There are also news of a new island north of Maxar Unum. It is said that it has just been recently created by a god and is home of mountains of treasure. There are also reports of a Jade Dragon spotted there."
"Hmm. We can't bother ourselves with any of those nonsense, we may make a move on that island somewhere in the future, but currently, we have no resource to spare for a travel to that island. Also, what about the rumors of this vampire cult?"
"It is said that there a cult worshipping the dark god Ramentep is gaining influence in Henda. The dark god as everybody know, rules the vampires. They possess a great threat to us and our operations." Said [redacted].
"Hmph. As if they could defeat us." Said the White Cloak Vice Captain.
"I want the knights to keep an eye on the city. Also tell the Lord of this City that I wish to converse with him. On this house." Izana said. "After we establish the networks and most non-combatives in this house has jobs, then I suppose we can try to gain more manpower. I also want the House to spend funds on buying farms and a business establishment. A brothel or a store, I care not. As long as we get a steady flow of income. I also want to keep any eye on the city's own networks. Anybody else has anything to say?" None of them spoke. "I believe that is all then."

Summary:
Non-combatives are to get jobs
A couple exotic stuff from Maxar Unum is being sold.
Establishing the initial network
White cloaks to keep an eye on the cult and train the city guards.
A couple household guards are inserted on the city guard.
Purchasing a business establishment.
The lord of the city has been requested to the Palace.
@Fishman_lord Kazami42 Kazami42
 
Wentigo, Northern Yelvania
In range of the Khadak Hordes



The hands of time lingered over Wentigo, the calm of nothing echoing throughout the village. Touched by a graced clearing, the canopy of the jungle gave way for the sun to dispense its warmth. Glimmering shades of light sprinkle the trees on the outer edges through the mass of lichens and vines that raided the outer petameter. Flowers of roses, lavender, and sunflowers championed the area as sunlight marched continuously during the day. Vines from the canopy occasional swooped down into the village allowing tree houses to be made yet barely seen. They bid no further by small embers of fire that bid warmth. Hidden, like a riddle, behind the curtain of plants and ruin blossomed the Faeron. Roughly three hundred youthful and eager dreamers who were displaced by ignorance and pain. Previous citizens of Maxar Unum, they found refuge in Yelvania where the elves bother nothing. They hardly passed this area of the jungle, the fear of the unknown chilling their bones too well.

A central statue of the old village laid scattered around, yet a fury of ice bastioned into a beautiful dragon and a swirling orchestration of water replaced it. Dispensing as the sun the channels with water, letting the houses drink easily.

The Faeron lingered in Wentigo for half a year. Through their powers, irrigation laid among the village streets while sculptures of rock and buildings adjusted from earth rose to repair and improve the old village structures. Cobblestone decorated the square where most gathered from their activities, stringed rooves of leaves littered workshops leaning on the homes of the crafters. A barter system institutionalized itself, the lending interdependence of amongst the Faeron. Strings of crude jars danced above the streets, running from granite house to house. On the ground, sigils were drawn into the streets to an upcoming tradition in Faeron culture. Signs of hope and remembrance.

Noon struck as thunder down upon Wentigo, letting a migration of sorts to the pools of the southern district of the village. Where rock and leaves covered the waters for a cool place to rest and socialize. The heat was manageable, yet most would prefer it’s disappearance. As all of the Faeron were used to colder climates, yet one stood out on such preference. He instructed the others, he leads them, he created the core of the statue. The first of their kind and the harbinger of the glacier and the righteous snow. An omen to the weak minded and ill thought to cease or perish. However, Jacquiés, or Jack amongst his kind, eases the tides of ambition. He emits the essence of carefree, especially when a need arises for it. Winds of fire, of the outside world, spread even to the isolated by the smoke.


“Jack… what are you doing? Are you gazing at the jungle again?" A puff of smoke blasts right past me. I eye Mavyel.

"We have company, I think raiders." I utter, she crosses her arms as three approaches. I motion my hands in a little circle for them to speak as I make steps to walk down. My staff beside me.

"There's been reports of raiders attacking cities and burning them Jack. They don't seem friendly to me, but I've heard they'll take anyone who'll fight for them." I nod to the boy.

"Mavyel." She yawns and wraps her hands around my shoulders. I smile and chuckle. "Not a chance. Could you alert some of our fastest squaddies that we need to scout these guys out? Can we have Deryl lead them? Some maps may not be updated, so they will surely come here if that's true. I don't want us losing our home again." Mayvel nodded, funneling around her. In seconds, she vaults away in a puff of mist. Leaping around the village to the chosen operatives. "Yo lad, can you alert everyone of a threat and ready the defenses? Have them meet up in Iso square? I'll give a briefing and overview some of the changes we've made to the village since contributions of our Rockers." I turn to another girl, "Gather up your friends and light the jars, Jayla. Then light the fires inside. Marco! Ready some of the buckets to spill on the streets when needed." A little bark alerts me to Cashew. I give him a short pet before kneeling, "Okay buddy, what's up?" He whimpers before running off toward the statue.

I chase him, carefully looking for anything. He stops by one of the side entrances. Nothing has moved. I sigh and nod to Cashew. They're still not back. Great... What could those four be up to? I sighed and ran back to my office, overlooking everything. Everything would need to wait until this threat stops being so.

Summary:

A party is sent out to scout the Horde.

Defenses are prepared.

Traps are prepared.

People are drilled and armed.

 
Vymm Mountains, The Shrine.

It was a cold day, with the sun starting to raise in the background. The island was a cool island covered in pine forest and mountains. Many who may come through these lands would probably have never known that it was ever once a battlefield. Not much news ever comes around here from the outside, but what usually does primarily comes from the Unum. Over a period of 10 years, Akiko has both plotted to grow, unite, and absorb parts of the Unum including the island. Along with this task, she has even used her own language to begin renaming various parts of the island. Life continued around the island as usual, Villages had been long since rebuilt with the intentions of fishing primarily and crop growing, some fishing boats being made from the vast amounts of pine trees, Priestesses on horseback just traveling across the island helping those in need, and warriors outside the Shrine would be watching over the villages from a far distance, ready to defend the villagers from any hostile wildlife. However she would also have a group of about 50 warriors within the courtyard training, but they were training for far longer than normal. Within the shrine, everything was mostly calm. Candles were lighting the more darker portions of the structure. Within the massive center of the Shrine however would be more active than usual, with a ritualistic dance happening within on a massive scale. At the far top of the Shrine, it was unusually warm despite it would have been far colder. Akiko and Mitsumoto would be in a large square room, with the doors leading to what is similar to a all-around balcony being opened and revealing the scenery. They would be seated at a table, both being across from eachother. Akiko would be day dreaming and after a few minutes she would return to reality.

"You remember our future?" She asked. "To 'one day unite all of our people and create a new nation from nothing'?" Mitsumoto would quote. Akiko then nodded her head. "Yes, that is the one." She would look to her right at the sound of wind. "I had a vision about it, we need to begin immediately. If we do not, then we may not have another chance and we will be forever lost." She would then look back at him. "I can sense a war brewing, and it is slowly spreading. There is no telling what It will do, but we can use it to meet our goal quicker. I believe Saya and should be the first to walk on Unum soil, it would take time but we can solve any remaining issues at home... If we go now, then we will not have to worry about sea travel and can still help our people before they are affected." Akiko concluded. Mitsumoto would stand up. "I know the region, I will go with her. Before I go, is there anything else?" He would ask Akiko and turn around to face her. "It would probably be best to leave Aritomo here with me. It is safer to assume that less trouble will happen when he isn't around his sister. Kumiko could get some good from going as well, now that I think about it... She hasn't actually left the Shrine for quite some time now." She would then stand up and walk to the balcony. Mitsumoto would then turn around again and proceed to leave. After traveling down the flights of stairs for a time, he would eventually get to the hall. However the events occurring at that time would have ended by the time Mitsumoto had gotten down half the structure. He would have noticed Kumiko at the entrance. "We need to go, your mother has asked me to take you and Saya to Maxar Unum. " She wouldn't reply, but she would begin to follow him instead. He would then proceed to open the large doors and walk outside before shutting them. They would continue to walk around the training warriors in the courtyard, where Saya would be watching them from the entrance to the shrine, a massive gate as it was known as to some which has been named a torii. Kumiko and Mitsumoto would approach here, "Your mother says it is time." Mitsumoto would then look behind. "We may need to bring them as well, if your mother is wrong about it being safe." The two would then continue to leave. "Yes father."

Saya would then close her eyes and begin to place her right hand upon the base of her neck, attempting to adjust herself. She would then open her eyes again. "Face me!" She would say, the sound of her voice having been amplified enough to be heard clearly throughout the courtyard alone. This would be her attempt at getting their attention and it worked. All 50 people would stop themselves one after the other, and turn to her direction. "We are leaving to the south. We have people we need to save from the coming apocalypse." After that, she would have have lowered the sound of her voice back to normal and they all would begin leaving along with Kumiko and Mitsumoto. Several of them would be given a item similar to a flag to hold, while they marched. She intended for them to continue holding these massive flags even after reaching Maxar Unum.
The walk would be long, but eventually they would make it down the mountains through the forests and to the coast. They wouldn't immediately travel to the Unum however, and instead would begin gathering more people and ships. Often their own ships for fishing, and taking ships from outsiders and attempting to pay them. They were also promised that the ships would be returned to them should they be allowed to use them. Along with this time consuming process, they would begin waiting for more forces and thus would be waiting for more ships across the island. They would stop their attempts at making the island look extremely life threatening by agitating the surrounding water life, just in hopes of attracting more "tourists."​
 
Opilge Stronghold
Eastern Luxum Wasteland
Opilge smiled as he approached his home after a long and rewarding day in the forge. Pretkag and Mazoga were grappling with each other and struggling for dominance outside. Each determined to continue rolling around in the grass until one was black and blue and the both of them more green than they were before. Yashirr was probably in the kitchen hanging up herbs to dry and putting to use their share of the deer the Dushnikh twins had brought back from their unofficial hunting expedition to the forests beyond their ramshackle settlement. His stomach grumbled when his thoughts turned to what she could make of the venison. Steak and sausage and jerky, staples of Orcish cuisine had been in short supply as as he and his tribe focused on the task of renovating the stronghold of his namesake to be more than the largest gathering of Orcs in peacetime and into something worthy of becoming the center of Orcish civilization. Work that unfortunately turned what used to be staples of their diet into delicacies. Meat had begun to be substituted by vegetables and fruits the fields and orchards had produced, and, while the women had tried their best, all had yearned for a fresh kill for the last few weeks. The twins may have abandoned their duties to venture out and hunt for the tribe, but once he had publicly chastised the brothers he had no choice but to privately thank the pair for their actions. Opilge had become too wrapped up in the expansion of the stronghold to attend to the needs and desires of his people, a lesson he had decided to commit to memory for the days to come. Other chieftains might have banished or killed the duo for their transgressions, but he could not bear to punish his former mentors and brothers-in-arms for disobeying him. After all, Opilge was working to redefine the society of his species, not to repeat it's mistakes and become what he despised most in the world.

Mazoga stood triumphantly in Opilge's shadow after making her brother yield. The girl hadn't been stronger than her brother until recently, relying on her ferocity and unpredictability to win her battles. Now though, she had the strength and height advantage over her peer, making her victories much more frequent than before. "Mazoga," he grunted, "you forgot to help up your brother."

"Apologies!" Her amber eyes went wide and she quickly turned to remedy her mistake. Opilge worked hard to make the inevitable feuds between them were more civilized occurrences, tempering the fights with respect. Orc kind was naturally more prone to violence than other species, conflicts were more frequent and frequently ended with the spilling of blood. He didn't want them to become bitter over the fighting like he did. If not fighting, he didn't want them to become weak enough for others to take advantage of their weaknesses. Mazoga offered her dainty hand to her brother and Pretkag begrudgingly accepted it, lifting himself up from the ground with his sister's aid.

"Head inside," Opilge uttered brusquely, "your mother is waiting for us." His children filtered through the door inside and he followed, greeting his beautiful wife Yashirr with a kiss on the cheek before striding over to the table and joining his children in setting the cutlery for the meal. Under normal circumstances it was the duty of wives to prepare the food and the table for their husband and their offspring, but he intended to respect his wife as an equal in all matters.

"Another outcast came while you were away," Yashirr chirped as she added the finishing touches to the stew, "he used to be a chieftain I think, he was covered head to toe in black armor like the great Orcish warriors in the stories Sharog tells."

Opilge gave her a sidelong glance. "Why was I not informed?"

"That's the thing!" Yashirr exclaimed. "Sharog gave him this odd look and sent him to work in the mines before anybody else could say otherwise, and then she just up and left!"

Sharog was a former wise woman from Opilge's original tribe and his grandmother, his last connection to his past life before he exiled himself from the tribe and journeyed deep into the Eastern Wasteland of Luxum to find a new cause to focus his efforts on. Neither fact did much to comfort him, but this wasn't the first time Sharog had vanished without a trace, and with the way things were going, it certainly wouldn't be the last. "Don't worry. She'll come back," he paused thoughtfully. "Eventually anyway."

Yashirr carried the stewpot over to the table, placing it in the center with care. "That one worries me."

Pretkag and Mazoga giggled to themselves as Yashirr ladled out the rich brown stew into the bowls of the table before sitting down herself and commencing the meal. Opilge found it delicious and hearty and was beginning to serve himself a second serving when there was knocking on the door. Knowing the problem wouldn't go away, he sighed, excused himself from the table, and answered his summons.
 
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The Followers of Railiani
Csfxt6CW8AAE3U0.jpg

The Heart of The Eastern Caliphate

Hearing of the Conflict happening to the south, a pair of Railiani's followers asked to keep the mage informed and help protect the lives of those fighting against the Hoards. They had been travelling for longer then they cared to remember when they arrived at the heart of the Eastern Caliphate. Arriving, they requested to join the fight, against the Hoards. When asked, who they were, why they wanted to help and what was 'in it for them' they merely responded by saying that they were followers of the Blue Mage. As a Dwarf and an Elf stood before them waiting to help
Fishman Lord Fishman Lord Kazami42 Kazami42

The Tree of Railiani
Preparations were being made to help defend the villages of the Valabion-Ancintaine from the devastating war. The efforts that Railiani had already undertaken were proving to be not enough in the wake of recent events. As the war heated up, Jaeliar found where the next battle was likely to happen and told Railiani. A Small following set off toward the nearest village and the mages began warding it and placing various spells to help defend the village and its inhabitants.
365cb2b6b40cec500dcaee502c3325c1.jpg

Railiani was sitting as his writing desk, adding, editing and re-writing many sections of his book. People though of his as this great warrior, going from battle to battle to defend all people all the time. The facts were, he loved, more then anything, to work on his magic and expand his knowledge. While he did all he could to defend people, all he really loved was to learn. Jaeliar, one of Railiani's only real friends, and not just another 'eager apprentice' knocked on the open door. "Hello, everything set. We wardin' it all right nae." To which, with a knowing smile of sadness, he replied "Of course, thank you. We do all we can. Times are tough. The Greed of the mortals raises more hell year on year. My kind are too pompous to care about the world anymore." "Aye, times are tough. But ye' cannae give up. We can stop what we can. Why let them off the hook?" "Of course not, we wont stop. However that does not mean we can achieve anything in the biggest sense. We must look else where to stop the raising troubles. I see a war coming. One to rival the war that created the Empires of Old, the ones that now crumble around us.
Fishman Lord Fishman Lord Kazami42 Kazami42
 
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The Scarlet Pyramid. Even a day's walk away, it was a site to behold. From the hilltop Aris' company was making camp on, he could make out the scarlet steps that made up the pyramid, giving it its name. He turned to his party. It was a small camp, a firepit in the center and several tents about 10 feet away circling it. Their horse and Aris' Zhevra, a zebra-like creature with a horn. His tent was the smallest, as he was the only one who slept in it. Honestly, Aris didn't like all of the attention he got. Sure, he was chosen by his home to carry out an enourmous task, but he was still just an ordinary Azkatl. It didn't matter though. He was chosen and that was that. He turned to his companions, his family. "Should we call it a night?" He asked. It was getting late, the moon high in the sky and dinner still warm in his belly. There were a few nods and grunts of agreement. Aris let out a quiet chuckle. They were as tired as he was. Once they had heard of Shimmering Eye's tournament, Aris had decided it would be a good place to start. Hell, maybe he would win the tournament, he mused. Then he would have power, fame, and a beautiful wife. His heart belonged to someone else, however: Goldfeather. He knew that would never have worked out though. She already had a future marriage arranged for her. "It's unlike you to get lost in thought like this, Aris," a voice crowed out. The young bird quickly turned around to see Talon, his second command behind him. His once full and glossy black feathers were now frayed and had hints of gray. He stood a full head taller than his leader and had a scar over his blind left eye. Despite him being half blind, he was still the best bowman Aris had ever seen. "Don't sneak up on me like that, Tal. And yeah, I've just got a lot on my plate right now." The old bird put a wing on Aris's shoulder and sat next to him on the grass. "I get it. You have a large responsibility and it seems like you are carrying the entire burden on your shoulders. We've all been ther, though šnot to this scale. Just know that we are here for you. You are not carrying the burden on your own. With that, Talon stood and walked to his sleeping wife. Aris did the same but to an empty bed.

Sunlight bounced of of Aris' tired eyes. It was morning, and the camp was packing up. Most of the tents except the largest were already packed onto the horses. Soon they were off, starting their horse at a lope and eventually slowing into a trot. The hills and mountains in The Homeland were treacherous to ride on to put it simply and even though they were moving at a swift pace, it took many hours before they reached the halfway point. As they stopped to rest and eat, they heard voices and footsteps. Aris gave his men the symbol to grab their weapons and called out "Hello? Who's there?" He heard the voices stop and the footsteps gingerly get closer. "We are the guardsmen of King Orange Feather of Crumbled Pyramid, may he live long. State your business within these borders." Royals and nobles have such strange names, Aris thought. He hadn't expected guards this far out from the city, but with the troubling times Luxum was in, he supposed it wasn't to outrageous. "My name is Aris. My company and I are here to enter the tournament for Shimmering Eye of Infinite Beauty's hand in marriage." The guard pondered this for a moment before responding. "Very well. Go on. Stay out of trouble." And with that, they walked away. Aris spurred his mount into a lope. "I would like to get to the city before sundown. The sound of thundering hooves behind him told him his party agreed.
 
Duke Coran GladeWatcher rode with a picked guard in the hills of Azkatl. His eyes turned toward the Scarlet Pyramid. His way in coming here has been long. Maxar Unum was too peaceful for him at the moment. He needed money and power. Fighting in many of the countries would endanger his relationship with Unum. So he had left his troop in the hand of his second-in-command, General Toran, and had set out for Azkatl for the tournament. Honestly, he needed a good marriage that wouldn't cost that much and a way to get his fame out. His warband was too large and powerful to be of any use in smaller conflicts. His army could crush a small army is used correctly. Hence, here he was with 30 elites. The guards noticed him and stopped him questing after his reason to be there. He naturally said the tournament and they waved him on.

The roads were crowded really. Many people from across the kingdom had some to see the tournament, and so had many foreigners. Some of course thought to gain the prize. Well, he was like the rest of them. Coran welcomed the challenge it presented. Too long had he sat idle wishing for a good fight to boil his blood. Rebellions were child's play against his well equipped group. He hadn't fought someone who could match his sword in a long time. This would be fun. He gave the signal, and his troops barreled forward pushing through the crowd.
 
The Drushans
Dark Castle.jpg
Mortling Fortress, Southern Maxar Unum

Davon walked through the halls of the fortress that was now his as his followers gave him a tour of the place. Much of the castle was in ruin and the only sounds that rang out through the halls were the footsteps of the men who walked though it. "What a mess this place is." Davon said. "Indeed, sire. The so called 'heroes' wasted no time ransacking the fortress." The group approached a large door ."Here is your throne room, sire." one of Davon's followers said as they entered the room. The room appeared to be the most ruined room in the fortress. Holes in the walls and ceiling, entire stone columns missing, a shattered window, even the throne was missing. "The fortress may be in ruins now, my lord, but now we can begin to rebuild. We are at your service, lord."

Davon looked at the men and then spoke. "You five" he said as he pointed his finger at 5 footmen, "go to the local towns and cities, recruit more to our cause." "At once, my lord." They said before kneeling and leaving. "You three, raid the local lumbermills and quarries, we'll need materials to rebuild." The three footmen did the same as the other 5. "The rest of you will stay here and keep guard, is that clear?" "Yes sire!"​
 
House Wisteria
The other members already left the room except for Izana and Zen. Izana was thinking of something, relating to that tournament. If they get the princess, they will be in possession of great power and wealth, while it isn't even half of what the House Wisteria had, it still is a good advancement, rather than grinding for that influence and power in henda for months. He stood up and looked at Zen.
"Call [redacted] and Reinhardt." He said. "I think we are gonna participate in that tournament."
"I think so, too." He said before calling for the said persons. Zen came back to the room with [redacted] and the sword saint.
"Hmm?" Said redacted. "Did you change your mind?"
"Yes, I wish for the house to participate in the tournament." He then pointed at Reinhardt. "And you will be the one to compete and marry the princess. You don't have to be serious with the marriage." Reinhardt was obviously shocked, but he showed no expression of it.
"Very well." Replied reinhardt.
"Zen will also be coming. I believe your network in the region is still stable?" He asked [redacted]
"Yes, while it was assaulted by a few houses. It is still operating fine. " replied [redacted].
"Okay. You will depart tomorrow. Bring 5 white cloaks and their vice captain and 20 guards. I have faith that you will succeed." With that, they were dismissed and they begun to prepare for departure.
Fishman Lord Fishman Lord
 
Moderation World Event Post

half a month has passed. [Though anyone doing a character development thing, if you need to just ignore this until done. Don't wanna ruin yo story.] The old has still survived this time, but getting worse.

The birb tournament was beginning.
The place where the tournament would take place, something similar to a large arena, would be vast in size. Plenty of room within to line up dozens when laying down sideways. It was mostly open with flat ground. The match ups would be various, [Since you muthafuckas sound like you insisted on bringing more than yourself in, I'm just gonna force all of yo asses to 1v1. No exceptions.]

But the duke would be faced against a single opponent with a staff seemingly made out of wood.
The Rein would be faced off against a 6 foot tall bird with a great sword.
The other Birb would be faced off against another with a long spear-esque weapon but with 2 blades appearing from the upper sides.
Kent Kent Blitzer Blitzer Davod Davod


E.C.
3 guards would just stare at the dwarf and elf, but after a few seconds of eyeing them, they only accepted.

Village.
A small party consisting of 30 would near, with 2 having been sent to actually scout the village. They would be waiting for further information from the scouts before continuing onwards, and some taking a break from a long march. The scouts were armed however for self defensive purposes. They would be on horseback to make scouting go faster, but potentially generating more noise the closer they got.
General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch

Recruitment section
Veras' recruitment has gained 30 people.
H HeckingHeck

Scouting:
[Sorry if this isn't what you meant m8y, just ask and it might be fixed when I have a better time to do this.]
The sent scouting party would come to find a couple of tents quite some time away during the night. Only 8 people could be seen however. During scouting, one of them would have nearly been spotted by one of them.
Zaltusinel Zaltusinel

[NOTE:
If you actually want me to read and respond to any of your posts faster than the long time it has been, I would recommend that you actually mention me or fish. Thanks m8ys.]​
 
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Veras Emrys
"The Brown Cloak"
For the entire month of marching, they had come across multiple villages on the road, recruiting peasants in promise of making themselves rich. In Acintaine, the same promise was made in the villages except this time, they'd be fighting for Acintaine. Vera's Captain's we're having a hell of a time organizing their ranks with the new undisciplined peasant militia.

Still the column was able to move at a steady pace. On the edge of the Acintaine borders at Valabion, a camp was set up. A message was delivered to the Queen on the reasoning of marching an army and making camp in their borders. The engineers and soldiers set up defences on a rather small bit defendable hill.

"It's been too long since I've come here. Perhaps now I'll at least make an impression," Veras said it without any emotion, his eyes only seeing into he distant past as if wondering what might have been if he had done life a little differently.

"Aye sir, my men are doing a headcount on the militia we've recruited. We're gathering maps of the area as we speak sir, should have multiple villages nearby," Vera's captain, Ramius Dorthius said lustfully. The man was native to Maxar Unum, born to a small and relatively unknown noble family, that is the only real estate they owned was a manor near a smaller village. Granted the man lived a comfortable life though a life leaving no legacy. To Veras, the man was just a power-hungry lustful idiot although his skills in battle have proven otherwise. He was a brilliant tactician and fighter on the field despite his rather immotal and often sinister behavior.

"Good, I suppose we can start by raiding villages, fattening our pockets and not straying to far from the hill. Once we get good enough supplies perhaps a castle" The idea of a castle certainly entertained the soldiers although it wasn't as if they were going to keep the castle. Being under Acintaine, anything they won would belong to Acintaine. Still, a fight was a fight and their pockets were going to be a bit fatter.

To her majesty the Queen of Acintaine,

My name is Veras Emrys, a knight of Maxar Unum and a native of Acintaine. I have brought my Warband to fight for your cause against Valabion to protect my homeland. I come under my own banner and Maxar Unum will not be aiding me in my fight. I come under my own flag with my own army. I expect payment in full when my campaign is over.

From the honorably,
Sir Veras Emerys

( Kazami42 Kazami42 Fishman Lord Fishman Lord , gonna need a count on how many soldiers I recruited)
 
The Followers or Railiani
f3daacb3fc9e97239ddcb302a6e5b7d3.jpg

The Ancintaine-Valabion Border Region
A Mercenary Band could be seen in the distance. "There, more soldiers of the Greedy Queen." Came a voice from behind. "Yes. 'defending Ancintaine' as they take more land. The Keeper has helped ward me and told me to speak with them. Warn them, perhaps even save them." Replied the green robed old man on the hill. He stood tall against the horizon, the other men crouched low behind him, afraid that they would be attacked by the people they were watching. "Now, we talk to them. Come." spoke the staff wielding man.

They approached the mercenary band. The mage walked proud of the people following him. Farmers, eleven of them, eight from Valabion and 3 from Ancintaine, standing in a loose formation of one line of five followed by another of six. They held their low quality weapons tightly as they approached, scared of the possibility of attack, refusing to accept that they were doubting the magic of the Keeper and the Wards he apparently placed on their 'speaker'. Once they were close enough to the Camp the group stopped. With a cry the mage took a step forward, book being clutched against his waist and staff arm being stretched out, lifting the staff above the ground. "Hail, Warriors of Wealth. I am Kilda. I speak on behalf of The Keeper of Tomes, The Voice of Peace, The Warrior of Arkelsh. These are among a few of his names. I hope you know them as most do, for he does not look kindly upon the likes of you. Soldiers of Fortune, fighting for pay and ruthlessly murdering all who stand against your paymaster. Stealing from all those who come close or whose homes you pass as you go to war. Why must you beat down others in you rush for greed? Come forth and talk with me. Let me show you the wisdom of the Blue Mage. If you wish to fight, so be it. But fight for a better world, not for meagre wealth. There are Dark forces in the world far beyond the reckoning of us mere mortals. We only aid them by fighting among ourselves. In time they will come to wreak havoc upon our lives. Stand united as people, against the greed of this world. Your Queen is no different from you, only while you gain some coin, she gains a far more valuable asset, land. Land and the people who live upon it, to oppress and ruin for her own gain. Do not allow such greed to flourish!" he screamed at the camp.
H HeckingHeck
 
Sir Veras Emrys
"The Brown Cloak"
Veras was studying the maps, looking over where he should make his first strike. Nearby just east of his camp was a castle, well a manor more like with walls. Rather large grey walls manned by soldiers. It was what was in it that was valuable. Apparently the place was a vineyard, the climate being ideal for grape growing. He supposed the manor would contain plenty of wine and gold. Wine wasn't cheap after all.

"Sir, a-a mage and a band of, well, farmers are approaching," the soldier's voice was shaky although able to get his voice out. Mages were dangerous when provoked although easy to kill if one knows how.

"Get the archers ready but hold fire. Let's hear them-" He was cut off by the shrieking of the mage. Annoying arseholes the Valabions are. Now if this mage would shut the fuck up... he thought.

Veras walked out in his armor. The camp was pretty well defendable, Palisades surrounding the camp with wooden towers behind them. Outside, ditches and obstacles made it hard for any attacker to traverse up the hill. Veras only heard the mage with the rest of the troops, all equally annoyed at the talks of peace. He waited for the damn mage to finish. Still Veras was intrigues. He had heard of the follower of Railaini if not from passing travelers. They were a sort of do-gooders fighting for this world. Still he thought the group naive and unaware of what the world is really like, a bunch of mad men and power hungry idiots spilling blood for petty causes. The group was too good for this world.

"I suppose I should speak plainly with you, mage. I am no common mercenary as you would believe. I have no ties with the Queen, I fight for my own cause," Veras started. Sure enough he was fighting for Acintaine but for different reasons. He wanted redemption for his town and the hell he caused. And vengeance against the Valabions who drove him from his home, "You would talk of peace yet bring guards with you. You act as if you are a virtue of peace, calling me out for fighting in wars yet act if others are innocent of this crime. What makes the Caliphate different from the Hordes? Had they both not raided and oppressed people? Slaughtered by the hundred of thousands? What makes Valabion better then Maxar Unum? The Hordes? At least the hordes have a sense of brotherhood. The world fights for itself as we fight ourselves. I know of the quarrels, east, west, north and south. What of it? What makes the Valabion cause better then Acintaine? Did the rulers if Valabion not want land and wealth? In this world we are all oppressors, you no different than the rest. Your meddling will only cause more deaths than you can prevent. We have no quarrel with you, mage, and I do not wish for one. Let it be that way for I have no wish to fight you, a noble mage however I only know the world as it is and not what you wish it to be."

General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch
 
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Nippon, Maxar Unum

While the forces were now waiting for ships, one ship would have been sent with the intention on recruiting from the otherside. The one sent to accomplish this task was one of the least suspicious of the family, Kumiko. She wasn't to start any fights intentionally, nor enrage the collapsing Unum which still has some militaristic capability as theorized by still existing. She was to live in the north, recruit as many as she possibly could before the main forces would arrive after all was gathered, and attempt to gain and maintain a high reputation if at all possible. Then at the right moment, the "uniting" process could begin officially. If not her being sent however, Saya probably would have and she might of caused terror among the populace rather than a subtle approach. Those who waited would set up camp, and were expected to wait as long as a month or more if nothing happens. Some taking up the activity of fishing, the others hunting, and the rest guarding. The Unum party had started to number at 102. Meanwhile however, despite initial concerns, Akiko herself would decide to venture outside the shrine and attempt her own unification process. She would begin to travel around the island to villages to influence them to her cause. Albeit stating that she was a type of overseer or such from the Unum. Nothing would happen to them if they declined to merge with the rest of "Unum society" upon the island alone. She didn't just ask one person in a village this question however, but instead multiple people. Implying that she was with the Unum, she believed she would have a easier time getting new people. She promised protection, food, water, and housing for anyone who accepted. The way she did it was similar to recruiting, however she intended to get at least a single village entirely. However, this may just be her having too high of hopes that this would work.
 
House Wisteria

Reinhard von Astrea
The doors to the arena opened and he proceeded to walk. A giant birdman armed with a great sword. The bird smirked as he approached. He must be thinking that he is weak for being human and only has a cloak for armor. The gates behind him closed and the announcer announced that the match has officially started. Reinhardt didn't draw his sword and waited for the bird to strike first.
"Arrogant much?" Said the bird before rushing towards him. Reinhardt made no attempts to move. "That human head of yours is mine."
Before his great sword could strike reinhardt's, a spark went off form the sword and the trajectory was redirected. It was as if some sword parried it in an insant. The bird looked confused. He looked at the sword hanging from Reinhardt's hips and noticed that it hasn't been drawn yet, but how? He looked at reinhardt's arm and a regular sword was there. How was he able to do that? Reinhardt began to walk towards the bird with the sword in his hand. Reinhardt's objective was not to show his powers, so that enemies can't prepare for him. They would just figure how to deal with him on the spot. The bird rushed at him again and reinhardt did the same. There was then a moment of silence after the strike. After a few seconds of silent, blood then came out of the bird's right wing and a few moment's later the tip of the wing came off and the bird bellowed in pain. The croud then went nuts and most of them were screamimg his name. The match officially ended. Reinhardt dropped the bloodied sword and proceeded to exit the arena.
Kazami42 Kazami42
 
Wentigo, Northern Yelvania
In range of the Khadak Hordes
At sunset, the clouds dash away. The sun yells at us, with lazy rays. Our eyes yet to be judges, as we have yet stood longer than a wink in the sun's joy. Our lives yet to face many fears and dangers. I remember the mountains, the beaches, the trees. They lived longer than most men, and some even longer than elves. As they say. I've yet to see a single one. Yet, I remember home better. The scent of the bakery, the sweet streets, and the clock tower at noon; they came better to the meeting of my memories. Maybe, I wasn't so connected to nature as they said. Not every storm is right, nor is every storm intended. I want my family back, but I don't even know where to start. But I've found a home. As roses spike their beauty with thorns, I must harden. The blizzard isn't always pretty. The desert and jungle are bastions of heat, and I live in the freeze of blood. When the ice rolls from me, most run. Most see the storm. I want to release it. Afterall, I am the storm. Yet, I know that I will carry myself from my original convictions.

And the Hordes are startling, what are they trying to accomplish? Burning cities? Displacing people from their homes? They will destroy everything. The fire rages inside, of hunger and lust. No. I won't let them destroy civilization. Somehow, my people will wipe the conspiracy from the eyes of the public. Maybe the hordes will help me. Will the ice to follow and it will.

I dash into Iso square, streaming ice behind me. The scouts returned, my kin crowded as the jungle plants, and as the scouts babbled on with their suspicions. I climbed down the statue. Raising my arms and adjusting the hoodie my mother sewed for me. "Daryl, tell me a joke. What is the situation with the Hordes? Also, good work everyone on being prepared." I eyed Daryl, a brown haired youth about as old as I. His green eyes sparkled with lightening. A leather tunic and a wool sweater covered his chest with the sleeves being cut off by the jungle heat. His hair flapped about in the twilight breeze.

"Only eight remained in camp. Their entire camp with their supplies. William was almost spotted, but we managed to not be spotted. They may be moving to another city since I didn't see weapons."

I nod, lifting a smile. I tapped my foot, rhythmically. Daryl scratched his head as I responded, "Well then! Mayvel, would you like to wreck some havoc? Or really, anyone with good confidence with their powers wishing to travel raises their hands? You see, nobody's home! Let us show the world our colors. The only way to take back our names and our homes is to prove our virtue! Who's ready to go! We'll sack them of their supplies and wreck their camp. They burn homes, they will burn our kin! We must protect our own who yet to see their power's glory." In the crowd, the more skilled raised their hands. "Alright! Let me go through with everyone to ensure that you should be cleared for combat. Mayvel, can you help? Those not going, please carry out your assignments. And Daryl, head to cities and towns ahead of the Horde. Bring as many of our kin and our sympathizers back to Wentigo. Rockers! I want an improved wall surrounding the perimeter, keep the vines and weeds as much as possible. Our home should appear as ruins for now. And remember boys and girls, stay frosty." I raised my lips to smile. Letting a cold chill release.
---
After a moment of checking everyone, it seemed we had a decent party of thirty guys. Twenty-five Accustomed, myself, Mayvel, and three other Deminars. I instructed them to kill the guards first, then gather anything useful. One of them knew fire, so if we manage to clean the camp clean, I'll have her sorch our sigil on the ground. Mayvel will head in first to divert them. If they returned, then we'll live. Seems simple enough.

Kazami42 Kazami42
 
Duke Coran yawned lazily as he watched the match closely. Hmm, that sword radiated a magical power. Magic was clearly visible to him, even though it was opposite of his very existence. Hmm, many people underestimated him because he had zero magic whatsoever. Coran walked slowly out to face his opponent. He bowed slowly to the man and waited for the battle to begin. Rather than a running start he calmly walked forward slowly as his opponent advanced slowly and cautiously. Coran smiled as the staff weilder swung at his head. Using quick draw, he blocked the staff strike, moving back ever so slightly. With an single powerful, he cracked his opponents chin sending him sprawling.

Coran chuckled as he walked off the field. Let them wonder. Was it superb magic? Was it martial arts? Or was it something else?
 
As the bard hummed a tune a nd plucked at his lyre, tuning it, Formil could not help but be angry. His force of men had been released from contract by the overconfident Valabion commanders who found his expenses to be too high, even though he had delivered victory after victory for them. Not a sen-night ago, at the battle of Westbridge, he and his men had held the bridge at great cost of life, expending forty peasants, six milita, three pikes and one of his household guards, Jorrek Tall-Talker. Still, the massive army of the Ancintainians had been held off, though they had been outnumbered thirty to one this was the only crossing within 5 leagues. They had held back the enemy for three hours, long and arduous until the Valabion reinforcements arrived and what did he get? A minor apology from the queen, a few hundred Crowns and what amounted to being spat in the face. Now he was riding south decisively to pick up some Valabionic peasants in the south. He only needed a few more men and then he would return, bearing the colors of Lond Angren and retake his kingdom. Gulping down the last of his Ancintainian wine, he stood up, placed a few crowns on the table and left. His men were milling about, sharpening swords, polishing armor, chatting, gambling, the like.

They all stopped when his voice boomed out, "Alright, lads! Form up! We head south twelve leagues, pick up some new recruits, and then we begin the campaign to retake Lond Angren. The men let out a resounding cheer, though his right hand man, Taramir, looked worried. "My King, are you sure it is wise? Our last reports say that the bandits controlling the capital have four hundred men in their army." Formil turned and looked at Taramir. "And how many of those men were forced into service from my father's army or from the fields? Rest assured, Taramir, they will rise to fight with us and return Lond Angren to my family's hands, I swear that on Arnim." On those words he unsheathed Arnim and spoke the word, Tal, and suddenly Arnim was aflame, providing a source of luminescence in the afternoon. The men went to work gathering their supplies, packing away tents, kettles, pots, and the like. He moved to help the men pack up his own tent, and after finishing, ordered his plate armor placed with the few baggage donkeys they had. He wore his doublet, breeches and boots, slipping on his gloves so as to be more comfortable in the march, though he always kept Arnim at his side. It was a relic of the old times, before his kingdom had been fettered with bandits and brigands.

By the time night fell they had made excellent time, reaching one of the southernmost villages. He asked around about recruits and, after greasing the palms of the village elder, added five more men to his army. They made amp for the night, resting peacefully. His night watch paced around their hastily assembled camp periodically. Formil drifted off to sleep... and awoke hours later to what he could only describe as pattering footsteps. immediately he grabbed his dagger, unsheathing it. He moved to the side of his tent flap, watching as a man carefully crept in through the tent flap. He grabbed the man's shoulder, putting his dagger to the man's throat. "Who are you? Why do you come bearing a weapon?" He pressed the blade deeper into the man's neck, causing a small amount of blood to trickle forth. The man pissed his breeches, filling the tent with a foul smell. The would-be assassin dropped his dagger. "Please, sir, don't kill me, please, King Takkar, he sent me, told me to you kill you to keep you from retaking your throne. Please, sir, please, I am just a lowly farmer. He forced me to or he would destroy my livelihood and kill my familyyyy..." The man's sentence tumbled off into a series of meaningless words and racking sobs. "Get out of here, sir, and go to a nearby inn for a time. In a few days time, I will begin my retaking of Lond Angren." He passed the man a small handful of coins and pointed out the tent flap. "Thank you, oh lord, I knew you was a good man when I saw you, thank you," Formil cut off his blubbering. "Now go. Go!" The man left, grinning. Formil lay down once more on his cot, thinking. I've grown complacent. I stopped placing guards at my tent and now I have paid the price, with an assassination attempt.

The next day, they packed up and set off once more, Formil wearing his plate armor, visored barbute, and seated upon his destrier, Arnim in hand and his shield nearby. They had reached an hour past midday when, just across the stream, he saw what had once been the village of Whitefields, for the flowers that grew in the summer. Now it was a twisted, ugly forty made of wood with at least forty bandits manning the walls, maybe more. He turned to Taramir and grinned. "Well, let's begin. Send an envoy of three men, demanding surrender." Taramir frowned. "You annot possibly expect them to surrender, my King." His grin widened. "I'm not just expecting them to refuse, I'm counting on it." Then he flicked down the visor on his barbute.
 
Valabion-Ancintaine Border



The devastation of the Ancintaine-Valabion war raged throughout the countryside. The travelers upon the road looked famished, starve, almost as if they were ghouls risen out of a grave. The looks on their faces had the same nature of the battles that they'd seen. Either dreadful eyes, sharp with the intention of revenge, or soulless stares, without any direction. Those who Karleviærrson met on the road either had their goal for life set, or no intention of going anywhere, for a very long time. The caravan had intentionally decided to seek the fiery soul from within those who sought revenge, and those who had nothing else to live for, only salvation. Maybe asking for recruits among those who had lost all they had for the war, was not a wise decision. But this was a chance, an opportunity for those who wanted to strike out! No longer had they anything to live for, and the caravan would always have shelter, warmth, and rations to bargain. It made Karleviærrson's soul to shrivel up, seeing the lifeless faces of those walking with no one alongside them. As the caravan's horses tired, the hired mercenaries scouted ahead for places to position a camp, and try to recruit from the refugees walking by. By the time they'd found the spot, the profound stars had already shone bright through the night sky, very much unfitting with the houses that were in ashes along the road, and the refugees that passed by. The brisk, night wind accompanied with a meteor shooting across the dark canvas of the air, it was calming, away from the shouts and the clashing of swords.

"Hey cap'n, we're still a ways away from that Taihai.. care for a drink?"

"I think I've had enough for today, Gast."

As the Karleviærrson, and Gastoreik talked, a campfire shone surrounded by the aging old trees. It'd be a disaster if the fire caught on to the trees, even more harm to the already damaged Valabion.

"Aw, thought you'd throw away being sober for just a bit, Karl! The loudest burp gets the best whore next brothel, mate?"

"Lad, just don't want anyone to think I'm always drunk!" Karleviærrson joked.

Soldiers were already setting up camps, and the medics were healing refugees that had wounds. Gastoreik started beckoning in refugees from the road.

"Aw, come on, I got Firebrand!"

"Fine, but don't get too cocky next time!"

They sat down and had drinks with a few other mercenaries. While some refugees took to the camp, some chose to try to tag along. The normal charismatic preptalk occurred, and those who didn't want to stay were ushered out into sleeping tents.

"You all want to stay here? Earn riches? Well, you'd better be able to pull our oars, because once we're on a boat there'll be no way to get rid of useless damns, except by throwin' them off!"

When the recruiting was over, few had chosen to stay, and they were all assigned to be crewmen once on the journey from ocean to Farven Yalva. It'd be a long time to travel to Taihai to get the goods off of their back, too. The night was over.

The Caravan continued to march with the Valabion Refugees in hopes of finding a tavern. They were headed to Ancintaine, and the law would not be happy with a Yormainian caravan smuggling Valabion people across the country. They disguised the refugees, and only until they were camouflaged perfectly into a caravan, they'd be ready. The journey to field an army, would not be easy, and so would be crossing the border of Valabion and Ancintaine, where a full scale war was happening. They'd simply not be able to slip past skirmishes and battles, the only avoidable way being to run across the field in hopes of not being caught in the crossfire. One way or another, they'd have to take a side in order to gain the support to cross borders. Going through the desert nation of the Eastern Caliphate would only result in being targeted by the military, due to tensions between the Caliphate and Yormainia. Just when crossing the border, doing the finishing touches of disguise the caravan was met with a hill of Ancintaine militants, facing off against a mage in green. There was no way they could pass without being noticed, a caravan with a band of armed fighters from Valabion, walking into Ancintaine. Too suspicious by the standards of the law. Before walking into them, Karleviærrson prayed that blood would not have to be shed, and they'd be able to pass peacefully.

"Why do I care about either side with the destruction they've both caused, to hell with peace..."

H HeckingHeck
General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch
8cd8ea268b8a4b7b879de585829e8533.jpg
 
The Drushans

Davon walked around the ruined throne room, quietly planning how to restore Drusha. He arrived at the shattered window just behind the throne, or where it used to be. This particular part of the room seemed familiar to him, even though he had never been here before. Suddenly he finds himself falling out of the same window and down onto the ground below. Just before he made contact, he once again found himself standing at the broken window. "Strange..." he muttered to himself, not thinking anymore about it.

Meanwhile, the away parties have reached the first of their destinations. The recruitment party will start recruiting people into the Drushan cause while the raiding party will start looting quarries and lumber mills in the area. The materials and new recruits will be sent to the Mortling Fortress where they will be trained and used for the reconstruction of the fortress.
Fishman Lord Fishman Lord Kazami42 Kazami42
 
TOURNAMENT

As the first opponent had won and started to leave and a new match was being decided, a new opponent entered the arena. A man wearing what appeared to be armor. He had cracked the chin of the old staff wielder soon after the battle started, however something was off... The wielder only appeared to smile before disappearing. Was it actually them? was it a form of clone magic? was it just a afterimage/mirage or something similar caused by magic? It would not be known. However, what was known was that some immense force had pushed a hand onto the back of the opponent's head, before a wind noise similar to a strong current or very agitated storm wind was heard, and the opponent was violently thrown across the vast open arena and into the air. The wielder would just be standing there, in the same pose as he was when sending the duke flying. He would then just lower his arm, and await for any possible retaliation. "Maybe next time you should pay attention." He would continue to wait for retaliation, as fighting immediately against an armored opponent would prove disastrous. He gained all the info he needed to know that, but started to analyze the armor the duke was wearing. It looked quite heavy to him... The wielder simply having appeared behind the duke before sending him flying at the present moment, surprising the crowd.
Blitzer Blitzer

After the fight is concluded, either the other birb or the original opponent will return for their second match. The latter now having to face a birb with smaller height, but equipped with a circular shield that covers their torso and a still big but slightly smaller sword.
Kent Kent


VILLAGE

When the party had returned to the camp, there was still only 8 people there that could be seen. The distraction they would then use would for the most part be a complete success. Confusing and diverting 5 of them, but the remaining 3 only armed themselves with a sword and shield, another with a bow, and another would appear to have glowing blue hands and taking a defensive stance inbetween the chaos.
Zaltusinel Zaltusinel

OTHER

The wisters selling things would be a slow process due to conflict, but what they could get out would be met with a couple hundred.
Kent Kent

RECRUITMENT

The Drushan recruitment would be met with 7 people.
Clockwork_Magic Clockwork_Magic

The recruitment within the Unum by Kumiko would be met with only 1 person so far. Since Kumiko has only just arrived and is as outsider appearing as it gets. She will continue her attempts nonetheless. While meanwhile, the results were zero upon Nippon.
Kazami42 Kazami42

FORT
[wanted to make this longer, so I am just skipping some of the very slow parts.]

Once the three men were sent, they would get close to the fort. Unlike normal, they wouldn't instantly attack them but would definitely appear to be ready to do so. A few of them of course would be armed with simple bows. They would just speak among themselves with grins. "Heh, look at these fools... We should end them here." one with ragged hide clothing would say. "I say we kill them and make off with their wears, we can get a profit!" Soon afterwards, they would hear the three men demanding them to surrender. Afterwards, the bandits just looked at eachother before laughing. Immediately afterwards they would begin to draw their bows.
Albion Albion

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NIPPON

After visiting the first few close by villages and still awaiting their response, Akiko would have returned home. Aritomo was in the stable taking care of Masako. The stable being connected to the courtyard, closest to the exit/entrance on the left upon entering, and right while leaving. It was a relatively small piece of the overall massive structure, but despite the size it could hold more than 20 horses. Along with Aritomo would be Rei Amai, a shorter girl, 5 foot 4, with short black hair with silver - white ends. She wore the same uniform all the other "religious members" wore. White and red were the colors. She was a type of priestess, and primarily spent her time at the stable caring for the horses there when nothing else was happening. She was the one who helped teach him how to take care and ride a horse, along with his mother Akiko.​
 

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