TerraNES: The Civil Experiment

Broken Lance




The Lance point captain stood outside the gates to Nessos, his subordinates patrolling the way in front of him, checking the travelers that came right up to the door of the Iron Lances's Headquarters. Nessos was a sizeable city located in the icy mountains above most of Keltia, and was a home to many a people in the wake of the Holy Keltian War that had seen the deaths of near seventy five thousand troops, and thousands of civilians, and the slashing and burning of huge amounts of land across most of Western Keltia. The captain had to stifle a yawn and peer out ahead as the overcast sky roiled around Nessos; seemed to be that they would be getting some snow in the midst of the early days of Autumn right now, and this was not too uncommon for the city unfortunately. A chunk of crops would be lost, and the peasants that worked the fields outside of Nessos would gladly start their fiendish flow into the walls of the city in order to protect themselves from the frigid environment outside.

A circle of monks, dressed in the robes of the Violet Faith, obviously from some distant monastery, approached the gates with their heads bowed low and the chains of office wrapped around their neck. Swords and such were strapped to their sides, and the Lance Point captain couldn't blame them. Just a few weeks ago, Aowlanders from the Forsworn had swarmed out of the hills and gutted a Violet Faith monastery twenty miles east of Nessos, stealing the documents and scripts inside and setting fire to the entire structure, letting the pyre glow on the horizon of Nessos for five days before it smoldered into ash. That was the tenth of this year as well, and the Violet Faith was beseeching the already spread thin Lancers to protect while the Gold Faith begged them to protect their caravans coming and going to trade. Bodies, throats sawed open and stabbed to death, were a common occurrence in the eastern paths and spreading westwards, so much so that the Lance Captains and the Iron Faelinkriser as well as Jonnah had instituted martial law, not that it would do much good. Beer halls and pot shops were rife with talk that Marcher groups had been seen feinting into the lands west of the Red Alliance, and Vahlshallah had been unearthly quiet since word that Heinrach Myles would be coming onto the scene shortly.

The monks passed, and a group of merchants wheeling a caravan in started to try to pass by. The Lance Captain ordered them to stop, and have their wares inspected. They had the look of Vahlshallah about them, with sharp features and eyes with grey and blue hues to them, and thinly lipped. Of course they protested, said that they were members of the Gold Faith but the Captain had them check the wares anyways, mostly barrels of fish, wheat, cheese, wine, beer, and more, as well as arms hammered out from an Iron Lances fort to the north for Nessos to supplement the arms already in stock. Iron Lance bronze was wonderfully light and such compared to other bronze pieces, but paled in comparison to the Aowlander pieces that could be recovered, which was truly interesting. Marcher lords with their bone armor and bronze coverings were alright, but Aowlander pieces were exquisite.

More time passed, more people came in went, and the Lance Captain's watch changed, as well as his men. The half dozen of them tramped towards the beer hall closest to the gate, and opened the door into the warm center room as the barkeep fixed drinks for all of them. Good man, if truth be told, and it looked like the monks from earlier and the Gold Faith merchants had come in to sample some fine Nessos stock that they had. The Lance captain doffed his helm at them all, and moved to sit down at the bar while his men picked a table and started to order food.

He froze. Turning slightly, the Violet Faith fellows were indeed drinking beer... even though it was outlawed by their monastic order for the most part except during celebrations. The barkeep's eyes were full of fear as he cleaned one of the tankard's and he moved his lips in a plea for help as the captain looked at them.

One of the monks turned towards him and smiled. Red irises. Jagged pupils.

"Oscar," a voice said. "Jack, Dontos; could you see to it that our friends have a drink?"

The knife was buried into the Lance captain's throat before he could move to stop the Red Faith man. The Gold Faith merchants sprung to life as well, swords at the ready as they rushed at the Iron Lance merchants, shouting a chant that only the Nine Dragons Order should have known. Another knife found the barkeep in the forehead, and he fell forward onto the bar, the knife slamming back further into his head as the fake monks swept away from the bar.

The Red Faith man knelt beside the captain and smiled soothingly.

"Sweet dreams, heretic."

The world was red and dark. And he knew no more.

Arrow Gamer said:

To Large Western Kingdom:

Let us solidify your eastern border and we can live in eternal peace.


Otherwise, it will be war.

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Why should we live in peace with some city state? You insult us.

Also, the name of the city-state is Catharsis.

bonefang said:

these are then marinated with local spices : the fiery red pepper
paste and clove paste.

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OOC: Chili peppers, or any sort of capsicum pepper in general, aren't native to China, and are in fact from Mesoamerica. Chinese hot mustard, Szechuan peppercorns, and ginger might make good alternatives.

Come, let me take you on a whirlwind tour of the foods that we have here in Vahlshallah.

Perhaps you have heard of our classic dish, the mons teufel? Made from beef that is boiled with beer and salt and such, it is a delicious dish on its own, but when the teufela leaf is added to it, it becomes even more delicious. Usually about a six once slab of beef, brewed in the heavy mixture of alcohol and beef flavoring that is mixed into it, the teufela leaf is ground up and then added to the mixture. When the teufela leaf is ground up, it loses it's hallucinogenic and homicidal inducing properties, and instead acts like a spice, creating a delicious dish that is sweet and peppery compared to other ones. In the lands of the Red March however, they prepare the teufela leaf right into the mons teufel dish, and create a dish that induces hallucinations. Typically served alongside mashed potatoes or slices of potatoes and black bread made from the wheat of the fields. Sides of vegetables such as cucumbers, lettuce, and such are often served alongside of it as well.

Bread is an integral part of Vahlshallahn dishes. Black bread is typically served to the masses, and is easy to make as the wheat fields of Vahlshallah provides plenty of the stuff for the nation itself. Softer, lighter bread is often served amongst the middle class and such, and rolls are quite popular, especially with sides of butter in order to create delicious svelen, butter rolls served alongside dumplings of chicken and potatoes. Loafs of brown bread are often assigned to soldiers as well, and are quite hearty, baked by the bakers of the cities who add ground teufela to it as well to change or flavor the bread as well.

Fowl, often herded and kept in flocks by the Vahlshallahn poultry farmers, are quite common as well in terms of dishes. The massive amount of chickens and hens in the nation allows a massive influx of eggs to be served on a daily basis. Most Vahlshallahns enjoy scrambled or boiled eggs, typically served alongside salt or mons teufel ground into a fine powder for a peppery taste. Living by the ocean, salt collectors are quite common and known to prowl the shores, making sure that their allocation of salt is taken up. Eggs are not just served with breakfast, but are also used by bakers in order to supplement the pastries and such that are created for feasts.

Chicken, and birds like sparrows, hawks, and other such things that fly over Vahlshallah are typically killed for their meat. Heavily salted dishes, they are often served in the army as rations for long marches where supply lines will be stretched thin or be nonexistant all together. These chickens are typically served alongside dishes like potatoes and black bread (again, very large staples of the Vahlshallahn diet), or baked into pies. Sparrows and hawks are typically baked into pies the same way, as well as pigeons; spicy pigeon pie is quite tasty and cheap to make compared to other dishes, especially since pigeons are a dime a dozen in the cities around Vahlshallah.

Pastries are not really served as much as they could be, but glazed rolls with sugar added into them are quite common for feasts. Typically as large as ones hand, the teufela leaf is ground up into large flakes and sprinkled on top of the rolls in order to give them a more tasty flavor (similar to how Cinnamon would be). A particular pastry dish, called avelen, was created in celebration for the arrival of the Vahlshallahn Horde in it's new home in the Rhineland, and was commissioned to the bakers of the horde by the First King of Vahlshallah. These rolls are larger than one's hand and have a crisp, brown color and smooth glazed texture on top, usually including a creamy center with flakes of teufela on the inside. The dish is wildly heralded as a delicious thing, typically only served at very important feasts.

+1 Relevancy. While Bair the Normal certainly hit me in the tastebuds, this hits me in the head, thinking about what the diet means for his society as a whole.

That said, ergot infestation seems to be a minor problem in a place where undergrinding or cooking a herb leads to mass-hallucination.

EDIT: Some notices.
I have all minigames up to 20 prompts written. I still need to flesh them out a bit so that I can ask for specifics and also offer suggestions.

Also, current criteria.
3 Random Criteria from The List
1 Criteria: Relevancy, how closely the submission follows the prompt
1 Criteria: Mod's Choice, how much do I personally like the submission (be it stylistically, emotionally, whatever)

OOC: It's on, Tycho. Terrance, would you like me to edit my original post for part 2, or just post it here? And having such a significant amount of teufela leaf in your cuisine is a nice touch. Kudos.

However you like, as long as everything is done when I declare "Time's Up!". Telling everyone when you update is cool too, although I would like one post to be marked "Minigame X" with the other posts linked to it, if you are going to scatter them like Teufela.

EDIT: Still plenty of time. Also, the old Criteria for reference.

Bair_the_Normal said:

OOC: It's on, Tycho. Terrance, would you like me to edit my original post for part 2, or just post it here? And having such a significant amount of teufela leaf in your cuisine is a nice touch. Kudos.

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Thank you mate, since it's an integral part of the stories that I have written, it deserves to be expanded upon and such. Though to be honest, yours was quite good, mouth was watering. I do like food despite being rail thin, and sounded very tasty to be quite honest.

If I say I have corn in France I WILL HAVE CORN IN FRANCE BAIRD.

MODERATOR FlAT.

I TREAD ON WHOMEVER I WISH.

Eltain said:

If I say I have corn in France I WILL HAVE CORN IN FRANCE BAIRD.

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O_O I ain't gonna say anything about that... Plus there's no real alternative to corn that I can think of right now.

MG8 Pt. 2:
An Adventure through Skaītanāustin: Kāupanagatwi​

Skaītanāustin [1]. The Shielded City. Shining capital of Prūsija, strategically situated at the mouth of the Wistla River [2] at the Wistla Lagoon. Taking its name from the Great Shield of the Wistla Spit, that protects the Prūsiskai city, as well as its ports and workboats, from any harm that the great Baltiskas Sea may throw at Skaītanāustin.

It is this same sheltered location that helped Skaītanāustin centralize into a powerful city and to eventually form the state of Prūsija. Through conquest and diplomacy alike, though mainly the former, the First Kunegiks of Prūsija [3], Erkur I “the Striker”, achieved his title, and he achieved it with great pride. After all, he was the first to fully unite all the Prūsiskai peoples. Now, the Second Kunegiks of Prūsija, Wlim I, presides over all the realms of his father. The great diplomat Wlim, who secured a trade deal with the Pommeranians in the west, and who expanded his Principality southwards towards the once dangerous Teuts. But he didn't make his deals or conquer his enemies with an empty stomach. Heavens no. And neither did his merchants or his soldiers. It just happens that the Venerable Wlim also happens to be a great fan of the culinary arts as well. A perfect man to live in the center of the Shielded City.

He awoke within his bedroom in the grand palace, Sirdarūms [4], energetic and ready for the coming day. For that day was the day where the Second Kunegiks of Prūsija, Wlim I, Son of Erkur I, would go on a journey throughout his city, a journey that would take him to some of the tastiest and some of the queerest culinary spots in Skaītanāustin. His day started with him being dressed not in the usual long, crimson robes of the Kunegiks, but in a grey shirt and a brown pair of pants, distinctive wear of any merchant, the second most respected class in Prūsiskai society, after, of course, the nobility. His brōkasts [5] was the typical Prūsiskai meal of, as always, and for every person in the morning, barley bread and barley beer. And so, with a refreshed body and full stomach, Kunegiks Wlim I set out on his culinary journey through Skaītanāustin. And his first stop was no farther than just outside the door, to a street called the Kāupanagatwi, or “Market Street” [6]. The Kāupanagatwi was a huge street cutting through the middle of Skaītanāustin. It led from the hilltop situated Sirdarūms, grandest stone structure in all Skaītanāustin, and it ended at a small natural cove at the Wistla Lagoon. It was a gradual downhill path all the way from Sirdarūms to the sea, and Wlim started his edible adventure right from the top. The top of Kāupanagatwi, near Sirdarūms held only shops for tools, weaponry, and clothing, while a little bit farther down existed some trinket-shops and furniture stores. Sadly for Wlim, nothing food-related. Only fool-related. But just a short walk down, one would start to see sporadically placed food stalls, each one releasing delicious scents starting from the crack of dawn, their specialty merchandise being displayed not by written word, but by sight and by smell. And it was at one of these stalls that Wlim took his first bite of the journey, apart from his brōkasts, that is.

Klaīwsīristin, a wonderful piece of Prūsiskai culinary tradition that can typically only be found at established restaurants or dedicated stands. It is truly difficult to make a good klaīwsīristin due to the necessary care of the fire and the hard-to-acquire equipment required for a good klaīwsīristin. But here was a food stall that had stood the test of time and competitors. Here was a stall that offered some very fine street klaīwsīristin for a relatively low price. And here Wlim bought his first snack. When he bit in to the first chunk of lamb, Wlim knew that he had made a good deal. The heavy, fatty lamb was both crisp, and dripped with deliciously savory juices with the first bite. He savored the garlicky oils glistening on the surface of the meat, which added a unique tang to the lamb. He tasted the sharp yet subtle taste of a hint of white pepper nipping at his tongue, adding yet another complex fold to the klaīwsīristin. He tasted the sweet hint of the much cheaper and more common honey that lightly flavored the lamb juices. Despite its well-doneness, the addition of honey added a light juiciness to the meat that balanced out the heavy garlic and pepper. Overall, Wlim found one of the best klaīwsīristin stands in all Skaītanāustin. But that could not be all. Certainly not. Wlim quickly stepped out of line to allow a merchant, clad in a similar dress to Wlim, to step forwards to have a second morning meal. He gazed at the long line of men, women, and children alike waiting for a skewer or two, or even three, of klaīwswinjaīna. It was a surprise that Wlim had not seen this stall before. It was like a Hidden Dish in a Shielded City.

But with something so savory, Wlim felt he must have a sweet element. And so Wlim continued his journey, walking down Kāupanagatwi, using his eyes and his nose to scout out a good sweet shop. And further down Kāupanagatwi did Wlim find what he wanted. At a similar stall to the klaīwswinjaīna one, Wlim found the perfect sweet. He found another testament to Prūsiskai culinary skill: miliōnsendīt. The “million folds” pastry was a difficult dish to make, as it required repetitive folding of a honey sweetened dough, with butter and more honey basted in between each fold, to form the folds for which it was named. To some, miliōnsendīt was a ridiculously over sweetened child’s dessert. To others, it was an important dish to Prūsiskai culinary heritage. To Wlim, it was delicious. And the miliōnsendīt he found at this new stand was no different. Each crunchy layer of dough exploded with honey and crushed nuts at every bite. The thinness of the layered dough lent it a uniquely creamy taste and a crisp texture distinct from the usually heavy and hard Prūsiskai bread. The honey-drenched sweet maintained the paradoxical identity of being a heavy-tasting, overly sweet honey monster of a dessert, as well as being a light and crisp biscuit. These contrasts lent a magnificent taste to and a deep-rooted love for miliōnsendīt among the Prūsiskai people. Wlim himself was no different, and indeed, he appreciated both the wonderful taste and texture, as well as the dozens of other people who also appreciated the taste and texture. He turned away with a smile, and continued his walk down Kāupanagatwi. Just in that short amount of time, Wlim discovered two wonderful places that contained Prūsiskai heritage in the sidewalks of a street. He was nearing the end, reaching the manufacturing and salt-gathering portion of Skaītanāustin. His stomach and his mind both settled on the various tastes of the sea. He couldn’t wait. He simply couldn’t wait.


OOC: Ah, double post, don't kill me. I just thought that this deserved its own post.

[1] Skaītanāustin literally means “Shielded Port” in the Prūsiskai language.
[2] Wistla is Prūsiskai for “Vistula”.
[3] Kunegiks is the Prūsiskai title for “Prince”.
[4] Sirdarūms is the Prūsiskai word for “Middle Palace”, referring to its position in the center of Skaītanāustin.
[5] Brōkasts means “Breakfast”.
[6] Kāupan means “Market”. Gatwi means “Street”.
[7] Klaīwsīristin means “Skewered Lamb”

I hope I made someone salivate. This was fun again. And my only two pieces for Prūsija so far are culinary pieces. Hopefully I can get something actually serious up for the Prūsiskai. Part 3 will have seafood, beer, and salt. Lots of salt.

Damn you. I drooled over my homework.

Only just noticed this: 'A Commentary on the Tribes of the Nanbu Shanqu and the Peoples of the East by the Yi-Dawar' is listed on the front page, but not as a minigame submission (M7).

Thanks!

no comment on my simple submission?

I would expect such a bloody feast to be from Keltia, but on second thought (hmm... blood sausage) it seems fine.

It is very simple. Not saying it doesn't fit the prompt or anything. . Depending on the criteria, you might even win something.

That said, simple submissions are always preferred over aimlessly wandering the net, procrastinating. If you must procrastinate, do it with a purpose!

A Translation of the Zan (fourth) Face of the Ulyan Monument / The Short Trek

[4.1] Zan and his wife Brei were born from Nai, the mother, the fifth and sixth children of a herder couple. It is said that Zan was a happy and intelligent child. [4.2] He grew up with the duties and the mind of a herder, mindful of the animals of which his father Aynar had him take care.
[4.3] When Zan grew to adulthood, a long winter came, freezing his family for seven long months. Zan made plans with Brei, and their siblings Shen and Qia, to leave for new pastures with the flock. The rest of their family chose to stay, refusing to abandon their land.

[4.4] Zan argued bitterly with his brother Daiyi and his father Aynar, and in the end he left. [4.5] Brei, Shen and Qia went with him, taking their animals across the Nanbu Shanqu mountains. They were never seen again, but thirty years later, as Aynar took the Long Trek on his death, [4.6] Aynar's son Usiyi, the youngest, saw a bird, dark in plumage, sharp of beak, swoop across the sky from the south. It was a sign, and Usiyi knew that his brothers and sisters were well and prosperous. [4.7] Usiyi took a vow that day, that one day he or his descendants would find his sundered family again. Zan saw that actions have consequences, and his life too provides a lesson to us all.

In the Beurtgang Empire clansmen of great import enjoy the blood of the enemy, seasoned with more blood, topped off with a nice tall glass of blood and finished with a blood-flavored cake made out of congealed blood. Peasants also eat blood, but it's generally their own blood.