EltNESIII: Some Assembly Required

[SKILORD]

The three warbands was a longshot, I don't mind.

 

[Immaculate]

Can only 1 ship be used per trade route? or can you apply multiples?

 

[SKILORD]

Thunder rolls across the sky.

Priests hit their drums around a fire, thunder keeps rolling, the lightning, if there is any, is deep inside distant clouds and our people cannot see it. Maybe there is a Sun God who reigns more temperate climes, but he too rarely dares intrude on the North. So we pray to the thunder.

Our priests serve in the army, as does any Wovvolken, they march into the forest with the rest, drums in tow. Two beats means advance, one beat means retreat and the Warlord has been known to climb trees and view battles from afar, commanding his troops with near instant precision as the drums roll across the field, one division forward, another back. Some foolish Norseman’s troops charge into the retreating division as the second one moves in behind them. Surrounded. Kaput.

Drums roll across the field, for the Thunder Gods and the glory of the Warlord.

Women till fields, watch the wheat grow tall.

Another Norse village goes up in flames.

Thunder rolls across the sky.

Drums roll across the field.

The wheat grows tall.

The Warlord smiles.

 

[Menanish]

From: Cypriot Empire
To: Lyscovian Sultanate

Peaceful trading has dominated our relationship for decades. Let's make it official?

From: Cypriot Empire
To: Spartan Empire

An increase of trade would do both of our countries good. Agreed?

From: Cypriot Empire
To: Aneb-Hetch
In regards to your earlier, more private communication, we would be more than willing to go ahead with this.

OOC: Excellent. Cyprus indeed. Where's my city?

 

[Julius Gandi]

Scythian Story Update 1 Part 1(I hope)

Spoiler because the images are humongous

Spoiler :

In Zri, the home of the Kazqi, the Fifth Kazqi sits alone in his hut when a vision takes him. He has the seers gathered and tells of this vision. Chiefs that could find the time to leave their territories also make the journey and watch on from outside the warm glow of the spirit fire. Everyone quiets when the great Kazqi rises in his ceremonial garbs to speak.



“My eyes were of fire and my sight stretched over the earth and I saw the lands to the north. A voice cried and the ground trembled, and I heard a cry. ‘Inherit these lands for they are yours.’ I turned around and saw our horsemen, the ground trembling at the hooves of our deliverance. Then an explosion of light and I saw this ground from which we sit, and from the ground rose a mighty temple of stone.“

Several Seers rose up and shouted, “Yes yes! We have seen your vision!”

“We must gather the tribes, and raise this army of men and steeds. The promise lands cannot contain us forever. By peace or by force the lands will bow down and join us.”

“But Kazqi, what of the stone palace you envisioned.” A seer cried.
Kazqi replied, “In time my loyal priest, the spirits know that all can be accomplished at once. When the foreign lands are within our holy compact we shall set to work to building a temple that reaches to the sky. Right here, this sea side down will be converted to the center of our world, and all peoples within us shall see that ours is the true path. It shall be a beacon for the spirits of men, shinning through out the world, and a symbol of our divine cause. Chiefs, Go to your people and raise what men you can spare, and rejoin me on this spot in 3 moons, after the spring planting. Our campaign will begin in earnest and end before the4 harvest.”
Great cheers rang out and the men discussed and drank through out the night. When mornings light broke out the gathering disassembled.

Chief Jujya and his wife Izme, the most ‘civilized’ of the Scythian Chiefs, leaving the gathering.


Izme whispered to her husband, "we shall raise that largest and best equipped warriors, then we shall receive the Kazqi's favor."
Jujya snorted and replied, "No doubt shall our influence rise and we shall gain much of the spoils."
To Be Continues... dun dun dunnnn

Orders are due January 7th and not 5th I assume.

 

[Eltain]

Whoops, the 7th, yes, sorry. Nice stories, guys.

Immac: Only one ship.

 

[Lord of Elves]

From: The Sultanate of Lyscovia
To: Cypriot Empire
Alright.

 

[Immaculate]

If most cultures are late copper age and one or two are early iron, there is nothing in between? what about the bronze age?

 

[Julius Gandi]

If most cultures are late copper age and one or two are early iron, there is nothing in between? what about the bronze age?

If you look at the stats are are a few Bronze Age nations.

 

[Kraznaya]

Elt... why would Troy be located on the European side of the Straits?

 

[Adrogans]

I claim yonder Qing

 

[Eltain]

Androgans: Welcome, yonder Qing.

Kraznaya: Oh. Cause I didn't know it was an alias for troy. ;O Is it particularly paramount that I move it? I'm willing to, it was my own mistake. (Or poor communication on your part. Or both. Or neither.)

From: Spartan Empire
To: Cypriot Empire
A most excellent idea.

From: Nile Dynasties
To: Aneb-Hetch
We will reluctantly agree to this, though we feel we are being taken advantage of.

From: Nile Dynasties
To: World
We would respectfully request that anyone that is able, initiate a trade route with us.

 

[Kraznaya]

Yeah, it would be nice if you could move it. It's much more Ionian than Thessalonian.

 

[Adrogans]

The Eagle of Qing​

​

Emperor Chang Zhi sat upon the throne of his ancestors. The Chang family had made the Qing people into an Empire. The first Emperor Chang Su brought together the tribes of the Qing and united them against their neighbors. His exploits are truly legendary, the tests of arms that he never lost, the new tribes he brought into the Qing through either force or talk. Emperor Chang Su was the greatest member of the family, so far. Emperor Chang Zhi had plans to improve the Qing beyond that of his great grandfather. He unconsciously stroked the arm of the throne, a very detailed work depicting an Eagle, as he listened to his advisors drone on and on.

As the sun went down Emperor Chang Zhi went to his family temple to ask for aid and guidance from his ancestors. He brought several offerings of meat, rice, and wine for them to encourage their assistance. The guards and attendants followed in his wake as they had his entire life. He was so used to them that he barely noticed them any more, he tried to imagine while walking through the garden to the Temple what life would be like without them. He couldn’t even begin to truly imagine himself as a peasant, so he stopped trying and simply walked in silence until he came to the Chang Family Temple.

He gazed upon its exterior for a few moments drinking in the carved murals to the accomplishments of his ancestors and as he always did tried to envisage what his own successor would depict of his life. He hoped his current plans would make a fantastic mural on the temple. He bowed deeply before entering and then turned and motioned his younger brother, Guard General Chang Xiang, to enter the temple with him since he was the leader of the Imperial Guards and only Family members could enter the temple. Chang Xiang walked up and bowed before the temple then entered it to make sure it was ready for the Emperor who followed in Chang Xiang’s wake.

The pair sat and looked at all of the carved statues representing the various family members and their accomplishments. In the center of them all is the tall statue of the Emperor Chang Su. His was the largest and would always be at the center of the temple. Emperor Chang Zhi knew that but he also was determined that his statue would be the one most of his descendents turned to when they needed help, unfortunately that was for the future and fate to decide. Emperor Chang Zhi bowed before Chang Su and set down the offerings on a small jade table and began to ask for all of his ancestors to bless the coming years and efforts of the Qing Empire for the glory of the Chang Family.

 

[Immaculate]

A Treatise on the Devi Mareas (the faith of the Phoolan Devi)

(in lieu of a story)


Gods:

The Phoolan Devi are bitheists, believing in two gods, which although often confrontational, are by virtue of their specialization, also complimentary.

The first is Mayrei and is female, nurturing and lord of the sea, tides, night sky and stars. She is also associated with order, often due to the repetitive order of the night sky’s passing. The second is Olap and is male, destructive and lord of the mountains, fire, and copper (and other metals as they are developed). Unlike Mayrei, Olap is associated with chaos, often the passions of appetite of sexual passion or a burning fire.


Creation Myth:

The Phoolan Devi can trace their lineage only as far as their arrival to their current home (the island of Sicily) though this occurred only some 400-600 years ago. They are originally of Tanresios descent and their language is even now almost indistinguishable from theirs. Despite their rather recent arrival, the Phooland Devi believe they come from the sea, creations of Mayrei. Mayrei created them each from a star, just as she created all people.

The first prophet was a women named Beyvi and she taught the people the secrets of the Devi Mareas, established the priesthood and made them the rulers of the people so as to better serve the goddess.

But though Beyvi and the priestesses served Mayrie well, Olap became jealous and stuck the earth with his great copper hammer setting it to shake. His jealousy was so great that he struck at the people and at Mayrei directly, sending great gouts of fire high into the night sky and sending a rain of fire to punish the people by burning their homes and scattering their livestock. But Mayrei interceded and awoke the sea, sending great waves and a mighty gale to calm the rain of fire and extinguish the flames of Olap’s jealousy.

Since that time, the Phoolan Devi have been matriarchal, led by the faith in their goddess, secure in her protection, though offering her gifts (usually human sacrifice) to please her. Many however, both men and women, still worship Olap, offering sacrifice (usually burning something) to ward away his jealousy.


Liturgy and Tradition:

Since the becalming of Olap’s wrath, the Devi Mareas have developed rather complex liturgy and ritual as well as a rather complex religious hierarchy, with the leadership falling to a single high-priestess, the “Matriarch”. The Devi Mareas priestesses meet once, every night, to observe the stars and divine the will of the goddess. Approximately once every month but often much more often depending on recent events and whether they believe their goddess is pleased with them or not, the Matriarch and high-coven will sacrifice an individual, usually a boy-child, by drowning in the sea at high tide under a clear night sky. The coven will then consume the sacrifice raw while praying for guidance and blessings.

Smaller, local covens will also engage in ritual sacrifice and cannibalism for special events such as to gain blessings upon the sowing or harvest of grain, the launching of a naval expedition, the construction of a temple, etc.

While worship of Maryei is ordered and structured within a well-regimented matriarchal hierarchy, worship and prayers to Olap are much less formal and often involve little more then the burning of some sacrifice and a few quick words. Both priestesses and common people worship in this way.

Reincarnation

The Devi Mareas believe in reincarnation. Those who truely please Maryeas will return to the night sky while those who do not will return once again as a new child. The Devi Mareas believe women are closer to reincarnation in their final form then men are and this (along with the formal leadership by a female priesthood) has translated into a subtle cultural superiority amongst women over men amongst the Phoolan Devi.

Animals that serve a priestess well such as by providing a particularly luxuriant wool to a favorite of Maryei may reincarnate as a human. Humans who displease Maryei actively, such as by insulting or disobeying the priesthood may return as animals.

​

 

[Eltain]

I am liking all the stories, keep up the good work.

The map has been changed accordingly, Kraznaya. My apologies.

 

[Milarqui]

Nice first update . Can't help but notice that you took the unit stats from MilarNES II (I take it as a compliment, don't worry ).

Diplo:
From: Tanresios
To: Barbers

Would you be willing to start a trading relationship with us? We have some problems with our northern neighbour right now, so we aren't able to spend money on much right now, but soon we will be able to do so.

Spoiler The War of Porters: The Start :

You ride on the horse at a high speed towards the Council Chamber, crossing the northern capital of Tanresios and avoiding everyone in your path. You bring bad news from the northern border, and every second you shave off in this desperate rush is a second less for Tanresios' enemies to win.

You finally arrive to the doors of the Chamber, and come down from your horse, Miana. You named him like that northern wind, fast and slightly cold, which comes every summer into your town and refreshes the air in that wonderful way.

You pat your horse twice, looking at him straight into his big black, deep eyes, grateful for his friendship and the help he has provided you in all his time next to you. You briefly remember how you took him into your house when he was nothing but a small colt that had just been weaned, and how both of you shared so many things in your lives. Now, you are a young adult, that had been training for his soldier place in the northern soldiering camp when the bad news came, and Miana has grown from a small colt to a powerful black-skinned stallion.

"Thank you, Mianas," you tell him, in that language mix of your own language and some of his whinnies you have developed in these years. You have never been sure whether Mianas can actually understand that language in the way you do, but he seems to react the way you expect. He puts his head over your shoulder and rubs against your head. You smile, and lead him towards the near trough, so that he can freshen himself.

You enter the chamber, and you feel yourself lucky, for the whole council is there, obviously in the middle of one of those complicated sessions where they discuss what is to be done in the town and part of the things that are to be done in Northern Tanresios. One of the guardians there, watchful so that the security of all these high leaders is never compromised, steps in front of you.

"Allow me to pass, please," you say. "I bring a very important message for the Council, one that can't wait for an answer."

"You must wait," the guardian says.

"In the name of our ancestors, let me through. We face disaster in the northern borders if the members of this Council don't hear of this soon!" you shout. You are really nervous, because you know that, maybe, while this man is preventing you from doing your duty, the friends you made could be dying at the hands of those damned, bloodthirsty Porters. They may still be safe, but you can't be sure of anything.

The Council members fall silent. You forgot that these chambers weren't exactly built to prevent sound from reaching the main part, and that the Council members, while old, still have excellent hearing. One of the councillors stands up and approaches me and the guardians, who have stepped in front of me.

"Nastan, let this young man talk. He must have important news."

"Sir, please, step back. I wish to make sure he doesn't have any weapons or way to harm either you or the other councillors."

"You have always been too security conscious, Nastan."

Deciding to cut short the potential discussion between guardian and councillor, you open your wool cape and pull out your sword, which you give to the guardian. "There, this is my sword. I have no other weapons on me. Now, may I explain the Council the reason for my presence here?"

Surprised by your actions, the guardians step back. The councillor seems satisfied and goes back to his seat. You step into the main chamber, and look at all the councillors. Some of them are looking at you with interest, others seem bored with all the proceedings. You look at them.

"Members of the council of Titana," you say, your voice easily carrying out to all the councillors. "I bring bad news from the north. I am Macal, son of Natal, the blacksmith of Irinia. I am posted in the training field of northern Baeta, where I have been training to join the army for the last two years. Two days ago, we received an exhausted messenger from the border town of Luania into our camp. He told us of grave news: several soldiers from Porters have crossed the border and attacked our lands."

Shouts of surprise and rage fill the chamber. There has been an uneasy peace with Porters, the northern neighbours, for many years, from before you were born, but there had always been problems with them. They were too war-like, and from time to time a few of them would band, cross into our side of river Taga (OTL river Tagus) and attempt to kill a couple of our people. It seems they have decided to stop playing around and have come in force.

"The messenger said that the Luanianes had been able to prevent the enemy soldiers from continuing to attack by destroying the bridge that crosses the Taga, but this has left the enemy soldiers desperate and have started to rampage through the countryside, probably in an attempt to distract us while the Porters rebuild the bridge."

"We must not allow this attack to rest unpunished," one of the councillors shouts. "We must send our troops to destroy those wandering soldiers while we send a message to Tangina and ask them to declare war on Porters."

An outcry of agreement sounds in the room. You feel slightly overwhelmed by how loud these old men can shout when angered. It is certainly something you didn't expect at all.

"Young man, will you be willing to ride towards the south and take a ship?" the councillor that spoke before asks you. You are still surprised, shocked even. However, you still have loyalty towards your friends, and you know what to say.

"I fear not, sir. My friends are fighting, and I don't want to stay away from them for too long." The councillor seems to understand it, and nods.

"Do not worry, young man. We understand your willingness to help the friends you made at the training camp. Nastan, please go see if you find the messenger at his house."

"I will, sir." You see the guardian salute and run out of the chamber.

"Young man, you should rest for a few hours before going back to the north. Both you and your horse must be tired after riding non-stop for several days. You may go to the tavern and tell the owner to give you some wine and bread with meat, and to have us pay for it later."

"Thank you very much, sir," you say, grateful. You still plan to go back to the north as soon as possible, but you guess that it will be better if both you and Mianas rest for a few hours. After all, if you go all the way tired you will go slower than if you take some time and then leave fully rested. And, well, the councillor is going to pay for it, no one would reject such a present!

You go out of the chamber and see that Mianas has drunk a good part of the water in the trough. "Hey, Mianas, I'm going to take you to a place where you will be able to eat some good oats, of those you like so much." Mianas whinnies when he hears the word "oats". I swear, sometimes he is too intelligent for his health.

 

[ZeletDude]

To: Phoolan Devi
From: The Cyseean Imperium
If you stay within that area it is acceptable, regarding trade we would be delighted to create such a trade network between our nations.

 

[Eltain]

Milarqui: huh? Did I? I was working off a base of ABNWII style and RTW. Or do you mean UUs in general? Yes, I loved that NES. Revive it. But thank you. EDIT: nice story! First person storytelling, very eye catching.

From: Barbers
To: Tanresios
Excellent! We will set aside our payment now, in anticipation!

 

[Lord of Elves]

Lysrella, the Lyscovian Sultanate​

The man on the wall stared across the distance, all that he surveyed he commanded, for he was Sultan, the Emperor, the King of Men. These titles he counted in his head, and then quickly discarded them; it would not do for the Sultan to rest upon his accomplishments and the accomplishments of his forefathers, there was work to be done.

Yes, indeed, work. Those barbarian tribals which terrorized the outer reaches of the realm, and the neighboring societies which fell every-so-often under the barbarians' grasp. The sacking of cities and the plundering of their wealth was every few years a cool reminder to the Lyscovian people that their vigilance and endurance was the only thing that maintained them in the midst of a cruel and fundamentally-uncaring world.

For some, the Sultan reflected, this was invitation to turn to religion, to bury themselves in arcane rituals and chants, to in essence dismiss their reality and submerse themselves in another, or at least this was the interpretation the Sultan maintained. He had no use for gods or goddesses or chants or rituals, for he was a man of action, and in these times action came in the form of a hand upon the spear. Turning back, the Sultan made his way into his chambers.

He would soon gather his advisers, those he called confidantes and perhaps even friends as far as one could trust another in the business of the rule of the Sultanate, and he would settle about how to make all those things that he knew lay beyond the bounds of his realm his. All that he surveyed was his, and soon he would survey more. The world, despite is cruelty and its coldness and its apathy towards the struggles of men, would be his in time. And if not his, then his son's, and if not his son's, then his son's son. He would not allow himself to contemplate that so much just yet, no, it was time for action, that much he knew. He did call his advisers, and they held counsel, and they sent out the call to the men of the city.

Despite the civilization they were afforded by their relative wealth and power, the Lyscovians remained at heart a martial people, prepared to bring battle to the enemy when necessary, and at all times ready to serve the Sultan. It was now time to serve. A great many heralds went out into the streets, and brought for the Sultan a great many men to serve in the Sultan's armies, to bring order to the cold and uncaring world.

Not only order, but Lyscovian order. None of the trifling of the city-states and their supposedly-separate identities, and certainly not the trifling affairs of foreigners. No, law and order would come under the Lyscovian flag, and in the Lyscovian language such as it was in these times. Spear and sword and the vestments of war, these things were prepared for the men of the city, and the men of the cities that formed the Sultanate, for the time had come yet again to serve.

It is important to note that religion was in these times not in a state of unity, and indeed it differed greatly from household to household, but it was that the men of Lysrella not only were equipped in the traditional Lyscovian vestments of war, but with the charms and talismans of their various deities.

The Sultan inspected the men his heralds had brought forth, and they pleased him. Like men of the Sultanate ought to be, they were strong, hearty and hale and ready for battle, and though they lacked the bloodthirsty ferocity of the barbarians who dared to threaten the Sultanate's outer reaches, they were armed with the confidence of mind and heart and the cold and calculating perception of civilized men; they would not fight blindly, but they would still fight well.

And so the army went out under the command of the Sultan's generals, and met at the gates of the other cities, and under the command of the generals the Sultan's other heralds went out into the other cities, who did raise their men of fighting age and caliber, who were as a boon to the growing army. In their hearts they held a great reverence for battle, and an honor for the Sultan and his command, and the army was strong and in great spirits.

The generals of the Sultan were equally pleased with the force, and soon they would ready themselves to march with the army out of the bounds of the realm and into the wastes, to bring order to the cold and uncaring world.

And the Sultan would soon send forth his emissaries, and appeal to those who would have word with him, to join in his dare towards the disorder and chaos, to bring order to a land otherwise wasted and orderless. And when word reached the Sultan of the readiness of his army, he was pleased, and again made his way to the walls of Lysrella to inspect the land that he could see from that vantage point.

And he looked out across the fields, the farms, the rivers, the great many things that one could see even from Lysrella's walls, and he was pleased, for he knew a great many things he could not yet see he would see soon. The Sultan was pleased, and rightly so, for he was bringing order.

Order from chaos, and if order must come from chaos, then so be it, for war was chaos. Order from chaos, peace from war, these things are unfortunate realities of the world, and the Sultan felt no need to hide them beneath charms and rituals and chants. The Sultan was a strong man, and he had no qualms or quibbles with the world.

He had no need for them. The world would soon be his.