AbNESVII .•°*”˜ The Many Coloured Lands ˜”*°•.

People like to say that Ostava is soft
Weak and pathetic,
Spineless and not worthy of it's location.
But what they don't know is, we are united in blood and commune.
We united in an act to strengthen ourselves, an act which many had thought would tear us apart.

Well we are still here aren't we?
This place we have... it is not enough for our nation.
We must expand to farthest corners of the Earth, and swallow all that exists upon this planet.
Take our rightful places as the kings of men and the unwashed masses before us.
This place we have... is just the starting point of a new era.
A new era that will be born in blood and light.
And we shall usher in this age ourselves by one way...
Through the way of the sword.

We've labored under the sun for years, pulling in our harvests and catches.
Doing what we have done to survive.
And we have thrived for it, much more than ever anticipated.
It's a good day for Ostava, a good day indeed.
But all good days pass after all.
We have to prepare for what is over the hills and what rises with the new dawn.
We have to learn how to fight once more.

Set aside the scythe and hoe, plow and hammer,
take up new tools, the instruments of war and violence.
We must learn again how to spill blood and strike down others,
For if we are to conquer others, how could we do it peacefully?


Inscription found upon a stone tablet uncovered in ruins in Normandy; text dates from the early Bronze Age, possibly later.

I like it. There are of course a infinite way to expand, war is the most direct.

Abaddon said:

I like it. There are of course a infinite way to expand, war is the most direct.

Click to expand...

Quickest as well, though if there are other ways I'm willing to try them out first.

The Legend of the Four Divinities
The whole sky was dark, and lifeless.

Nothing existed at all.

But a light.

The light was small, and young, and tried to fight back the darkness. The light grew up, and soon both light and darkness were equal. The fight was hard, because they could not be together. They fought. For how much time, no one knows. Not even the Four Divinities, for when they were born, the fight had already finished.

For, you see, the Four Divinities were born in the exact moment the fight ended. The light and the darkness had readied themselves for one last blow, one blow in which they would put all their strength. Both of them were so powerful, that the last blow hit the other at the same time, and both of them broke into millions of pieces.

Slowly, those pieces started to form themselves, but now the pieces were mixing, with light and darkness everywhere. The first thing that appeared was a great ball of light, which slowly came alive, and slowly started to know what was happening. The ball of light didn't know what it was, only remembered part of what had happened. As it grew up, it decided it needed a name, and after much thinking, it decided that Feder suited him.

Then, something else appeared. It was a mix of light and dark, half and half. It also grew up, slowly. It was smaller than Feder, but it was richer. It didn't know what it was, either, but it could also see something else far away from it, which was Feder. In the end, it also wished for a name, and chose to call herself Gias.

A third something appeared again. It was mostly dark, but it had a bit of light. It grew up, but became smaller than Feder and Gias. It also could see them, but could not speak with them. When it wished for a name, it called herself Catal.

Finally, something else fell over Gias. It nearly covered her, but it was not big enough to do it, and it settled down. That something grew, too, but could not speak with Gias despite being so near to her. When it finally grew up enough, he chose for himself the name Netpor.

Many years later, Gias and Netpor managed to finally speak with each other. They became friends, and slowly fell in love with each other.

It took a bit of more time for Feder and Catal to be able to speak, because they were very far away, and it was difficult to talk to each other, but in the end they could do it. And they fell in love with each other, but they were far from each other, and to their sadness they couldn't do anything to become nearer.

When the four managed to speak with each other, they talked about everything, and Feder talked about what could have brought them there. They spoke about their memories, and realised that they came from the darkness and the light. They also spoke of living, and Gias pushed into the conversation that perhaps they could join together and create life. This was something all of them liked, and they did their best.

Gias made the bodies of the animals and plants out of her own. Feder put the fire of the souls in them. Catal put the air that the animals and plant would breath, to feed their souls and bodies. Finally, Neptor put in them the flow of life, and everything, put together, started life.

Animals and plants grew up. Some of them changed. Some were born. Some died. But one - only one - had something special: intelligence. That animal gathered together, and spoke, and slowly became something else. And some of them were able to hear Catal, Feder, Gias and Neptor, and they told of the words of the Four who had given them life. Those were the First Prophets, who first spoke the Words of the Four Divinities.

Those animals were humans, and the First Prophets spoke in the Cavern of the Divinities, which stands in the centre of the city of Sagenta.

And now, hundreds of years after the First Prophets first spoke, we stand here, in the first room of the Great Temple of the Four Divinities, where you now know how we came to be.

OOC: OK, it was a bit random, and pretty much improvised, but hey, given that my religion is the first that has gotten a Religious city, well, I have to lap it up! Hope you liked it, though.

Tycho said:

Quickest as well, though if there are other ways I'm willing to try them out first.

Click to expand...

And often fraught with the issue of ya know downtroden and more revolting in general.

The gavel crashed into the table three times, queuing the entrance of the rough looking man into the Council Chamber. His beard was untrimmed, and his posture was poor, giving the impression of an uncouth barbarians from the south. That label was perfectly fitting however, for he was, in fact, a warlord who had gained quite the following in the south. The members of the Council eyed him wearily, and many averted their eyes when their guest finally took his seat. Yet the man could not be ignored. The meeting was about him after all.

After an awkward silence, the southern warlord spoke up.

"How long must I endure this silence? Is this some form of insult created by you northerners? Hada-Kesh is a strange land, and I wish to be gone from it as soon as possible. Now speak!"

The Council Chamber echoed with a few nervous coughs and laughs. Finally a man spoke up, wearing rather plain robes, but carrying an ornate battleaxe encrusted with exotic materials and gems.

"Calm yourself Kermilm, loud words will get you nowhere here," the man stated. Kermilm began to reach for a dagger, but the presence of guards made him hesitant to do more than make a crude gesture at the councilman.

"Fine, speak then. The stench of this city is awful, and I'd love nothing more to go home and enjoy my fair home."

"Reasonable enough! We simply wished to discuss a possible alliance between our peoples. We have heard of your strength, and definitely think you will be vital in the repulsion of the Eshiri to the north."

Kermilm sneered. "Fight your own battles Hada-keshi coward. I have no feud with these foreigners."

"Oh? Reports say the Eshiri are a host nearly beyond number, yet crude and primitive. Though we could slaughter many, their numbers would soon crush us. And with our rich lands in their hands, they would continue to multiply, and more would arrive from their homeland like flies to a carcass. Soon they would descend upon your lands...provided they are still yours by then."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Kermilm slammed his fists on the table. "I am mighty, and my enemies fall upon their faces upon the mere mention of my name!"

"We question not your might, Kermilm," Another councilman stated coolly. "But rumors have reached us... but since you believe each man must handle his own problems, we will just excuse you now. Enjoy a safe journey."

Kermilm began to breathe heavily. An assassination attempt had failed not only 2 weeks earlier, when a man rushed him and his personal guard. It was far too close to comfort, and the attack had come out of the blue. Rumors circulated that was an attack from his cousin. Others claimed his uncle was responsible. Friends and family came under suspicion, and Kermilm's journey to Hada-kesh had not done much to ease him. Sightings of cloaked figures around Kermilm's train of followers had added to the paranoia that surrounded him.

"I demand to know the words that were about to leave your mouth!"

"Give us assistance, and your conspirators will be revealed."

Kermilm thought once again about the Eshiri. Even if he had purged his ranks of conspirators, would he be in any shape to contend with such a foe alone? After a long pause, Kermilm sighed, but agreed.

"I will lend you my warriors, and work with Hada-kesh, so long as you continue to serve me loyally."

As the barbarian left, the councilmen smirked to one another.

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

Kermilm's men were brought into Hada-Kesh, and put on the frontiers. Sprinkled throughout the ranks of the native Hada-Keshians, they felt very much like foreigners in a strange land, than fellow soldiers on a frontier. The fabled Eshiri never appeared. Slowly the Kermilites, as the men had become known as, had realized their fate. They were integrated into the Hada-Keshi army, and their loyalty to the old warlord faded. They lost hope for a glorious battle, but could not return home, isolated and confused in a strange land.

Kermilm was given a list of names; distant relatives and old rivals. He swiftly had them killed or driven off. New names would be added to the list, as Hada-Keshi informants gained more information. The conspiracy inched deeper and deeper into Kermilm's inner circle of advisers and concubines. It was only a matter of time before Kermilm's personal territory edged towards civil war. Seeing it as the only way out, Kermilm requested aid from Hada-Kesh. Rapidly the northerners fortified themselves in Kermilm's lands and fought off any attackers...

Except one.

Late one night, a concubine strangled Kermilm in his sleep, escaping the guards through some sort of sorcery no doubt. In his will, Kermilm left his lands to Hada-Kesh, and gave the go ahead for a new campaign to united the lands to the south in his name. How Kermilm knew how to write in perfect Hada-keshi was up to speculation...

OOC: Paranoia is good to keep a country together, but it can be a decent weapon too

Adrogans said:

And often fraught with the issue of ya know downtroden and more revolting in general.

Click to expand...

True, true, but at the same time, civilian populations tend to be... reduced during and after wartime.

The Stratego Kleon watched as the one hundred archers under his command strung their bows. A strange northern invention by the barbarians, the Archery corps was first founded by the Tactican Lykos to dull the edge the bow and arrow gave to the barbarians. Now... He grimaced. Firing arrows is no fit task for a warrior.

The Archers were light of foot and were lightly armored: they were to also be scouts and rangers, or so he was told. Each archer packed a quiver of 30 bronze-tipped arrows, as well as a bronze dagger in case of close combat. Behind the line were a series of wagons holding fresh quivers in case a battle lasted much longer than expected. Kleon watched with interest as several of the ranger Tacticans, wearing hunting cloaks over their armor, adjusted the aim of their fellow archers.

He tilted his head towards his signifier, "High Arc, 350 yards, full volley." While the trumpeter called, the archers strung their arrows and aimed high while the Tacticans scrambled too and fro, adjusting their aim. "Fire" he called as the trumpeter blasted two high notes. A cloud of arrows flew into the air, then landed into and around the ditch 350 yards from their position, "Reload, Medium Arc, 200 yards" he barked to the Trumpeter so that the Archers scrambled to prepare. "Fire!" he called, and even before the trumpet finished, and arrow after arrow plunge into the ditch he called the order "Low Arch, Fire at Will!". At the command, men standing on either side of the archers groaned as they lifted a series of targets. He watched a minute of arrows flying thickly at the targets, thudding into them by the dozen, and called them to stop, smiling

"Tactican Isodoros!" he called, and one of the robed archers saluted and ran up the hill. "Great performance of field craft. Your men will do Aisonia Proud." he praised as the lithe captain appeared before him. "Our march southward will begin soon. Are they ready to march?"

"Yes, Strategos,"spoke the young Tactican, who saluted again," but first, when will it march?"

"Oh, after the spring planting is done" replied the Kleon. "The City-state of Dakopolis is unwalled, complacent with our competent and unthanked defense of the pass. Seriously they..."

"Sir, if we are to march that soon, we should start now" interrupted the Tactican, "Apologies, but we must scout out the road between the cities to prevent... unintended consequences."

"Oh Isodoros, unintended consequences?" laughed Kleon, "The last time I heard of a band of bandits trying to take on one of our detachments, it was twelve to three, I believe, our champions slain them to the man."

"Still," pleaded Isodoros, "Let them learn from the field. My section has only seen the rush of arrows on the training field, and only us veterans of Jennapolis know the feeling of powerlessness on the battlefield without armor, and the silence needed to stalk through the woods!"

The stratego crossed his arms. He did not like the tone the young wirey Tactican was giving him. "Fine, I will let your section do whatever scouting you feel necessary," he replied, "as long as you do not give me any trouble. At all. Clear?"

"Clear!" cried Isodoros, he saluted smartly and returned to the lines of archers.

Kleon rubbed his head. Archers... he'd prefer a section of Champions anyday over this corp of rangers! He called to the trumpeter, "They them stand at attention for another half-hour, then call release."

He walked down the hill back into his tent.


OOC: Do you want us to update our culture sheet with our stories/links?

And so the Prophet called to his men, and asked that they bring forth parchment, for he knew that his days were not many.

And lo, Hannibal had become a frail old man, and his narrow fingers were gripped with wrinkles such that they weighed on every task he performed. So he asked of his men to write down his prophecies.

And thou knowest that they have done so truly, as thou art three chapters into aforementioned holy book and we have even seen fit to come clean about the origin of this manual. In fact, we used the first two chapters to provide background for the development of our faith so that we can all understand, and to people reading this holy book and who practice our religion in the future, guys, this is especially for you. Don't go acting like this book represents the compilation of the unique wisdom received from a specific "miracle" period in which the rules of time and space worked differently. Please, I swear to the Tao, we did not write this volume in order to justify you killing people. If you have to kill people, it is whatever, but I swear to the Tao, do not use us as an excuse.

But Hannibal, at length spake, and gave voice to the faith of the people, he did not seek to replace what was there, only to strengthen it.

And so he said, what has happened has been ordained, and what will happen as well. You may run from your problems, but they will follow you, for it is the Tao. The Tao is justice, for though a lion may kill many gazelles, in time it too shall die.

These things are inevitable, and they must occur, for it is the Way.

What of the fisherman who brings in huge catches and does not share them among his brothers? Does he not seem to throw off the essential justice of this scheme?

But will not his fellow men hold him in contempt for this? Will they not say to him when the harvests of the field come in, "Find thy own bread, thou greedy fishmonger!" or at least demand a share of his catch? Sooner or later, it works out.

Perhaps, we should be honest, he isn't looking right now because his mistress has lead him off to the bathroom right now, but perhaps it is possible that the great prophet is a mite delirious right now, and it is sufficient that he has passed on his wisdom to such as the new Great Prophet Hamiclar who will hopefully be more cooperative in passing down life lessons than our beloved, yet senile, founder.

"Alright, adjust the oars now men. That cove over there looks like a nice landing spot."

The salty haired man smiled to himself as he sat at the prow of the ship as it glided smoothly across the waves. The drummer in the back of the boat beat a soft tune for the oarsmen to guide the little boat across the choppy waters. This body of foamy blue between the great green island that was often seen on the horizon and the fishing village where they had all come from lay before them. Cliffs jutted up out of the water to the west and a little to the east, with a small cove and a beach littered with objects just before them now. The perfect landing spot.

"Steady as she goes Alland, we don't want to dash ourselves on the rocks."

"Yessir," the lead oarsman replied.

It took about an hour or so, possibly a little longer or a little less (time was awfully hard to gauge on the seas), but they finally made it onto the cove. Beaching the ship on the cove's shallow waters, the salted man was the first off. Swinging himself over the railing, he splashed into the water lightly and started to move upwards onto the beach itself. One by one, the oarsmen followed his lead.

Tall cliffs about one hundred feet high jutted with craggy faces peering down at them, with a variety of caves and little places looming out over the men. The cove itself was a shelterd spot, safe from the worst winds and tides, a highly good spot. Shells and driftwood loitered on the beach, a few crabs clicking their claws as they scuttled about. Nothing besides that and the gently lapping waves stirred the sands of the beach about.

"What now sir?" An oarsman spoke up carefully; their leader was not a man who suffered rude manners well, and asking him a question before being talked to first was grounds enough for being tossed overboard in a storm. One thing the Ostavans feared more than anything else was water, and their seagoing was not a pleasurable experience for most of them. Fishing didn't require much contact with water, but being swept overboard was dangerous; drownings could happen merely because the people couldn't swim well in water, no matter how deep or shallow.

The salty haried fellow slowly turned back to the oarsmen and gave a tired smile. "We will just take a look around here men, see what this virgin land is like. This is a perfect place to be, wouldn't you say?"

As if to puncture his words, some wolves far away sounded a howling call that echoed into the overcast sky.

"Get the knives men, I fear that we may need them. We could do with a bit of blood sport after all." The salted man's gray eyes flashed as his mouth twisted into a thin smirk. "I love wolf skins after all... especially the pups'."

History of Aostra

King Visulio sat in his chambers with his eldest son, Tykrea. They had many a discussion there, many of which were to help prep young Tykrea for his future as king of Aostra.

What do you mean you don't want to take the family name?! Every king of Aostra has had the name Visulio! Myself, my father, my father's father...all have taken the name! If you don't take the name after I die, so help me gods, I'll haunt your a** every time you try to conceive a son!

But wouldn't that end the blood line father?

Hell no! Why do you think I fathered 17 children!? If you don't bear a son eligible to be the next in line, one of your six brothers will!

Fine. I'll take the nam-

You're d*** right you're taking the name!

Tykrea reached for some grapes and began to pop them into his mouth.

Father, tell me again about our people's history.

Fine my son. It is a story I like to tell.


Many centuries ago, the Aosts dwelled on this island, the one we call home. The sea was their god, what brought them all they ever needed. They developed boats to bring in the catch and be closer to their god. Over the years, they soon found a new use for their boats, exploration. Men sailed out past the horizon, to the great unknown. Many returned telling tales of new lands and their occupants and brought back trinkets as proof. Soon, boats traveled to and from these lands constantly, transporting cargo and coin, individuals and ideas across the sea. Our island began to thrive on the trade. Our cities swelled with wealth and goods. In order to better maintain this valuable trade and keep the seas safe from brigands, a navy was created. Over time, the majority of the peoples the Aosts traded with helped form one nation, and everyone was happy.

So, that was the empire right?

Gods! I can never finish the story when I tell it to you!

The empire began exploring again, discovering more lands with people to trade with. There were even people discovered far to the north, who called themselves Eysonians, but the sailors who found them quickly returned home and spread the word of the foul beings. No ship as ever dared venture that far north again.

Is that where the word Eyson come from father? The name for a diseased swine?

What the...? Of course! Now let me finish the d*** story!

The empire continued trading with the now new Aost territories and began trading with all peoples in the known world, and life was good. However, almost a century ago, a massive storm destroyed the entire navy, and most of their trade fleets. The empire collapsed, and the Aosts were, once again, trapped on the home island.

That's when we began to look more toward the land, right father? We began growing crops and mining for stone and metal.

I'm not finishing the d*** story now! Apparently, you know it all already! Get out!


And that is the story of how Tykrea was replaced by his younger brother, Cratha, as heir to the throne of Aostra.
--------
Map of the Ancient Aostran Empire and the Known World

Radioactive Retroactive Changes Complete

Orders will be coming tonight

Boundless said:

Orders will be coming tonight

Click to expand...

Probably same here.

Lots of stories, and lots of Orders. TYVM guys, keep em coming

Orders?


There is no panic at all guys, just more my own book keeping!

Adrogans ✔
Boundless
DarthNader
EnglishCrusader
erez87 ✔
LDiCesare
lord_joakim ✔
Milarqui ✔
Ninja Dude
SKILORD
Terrance888 ✔
Thomas.berubeg ✔
Tycho

I don't want to send my orders to you in case I get them horribly wrong

I'll be sure to correct you, it is all a learning curve for everyone on the first few updates.

Orders have just been sent

A quick question as I am just a little confused with my first NES; can I use the economic points being generated this turn to use with my order?