BirdNES 2: Forge of Empires -- The Animas Valley

I didn't get a PM

Update soon? Like hours?

Consider yourself lucky. My PM did not contain happy news

OOC: Gahh, swiss, you weren't supposed to post yet! The top was supposed to be for the update!!!

GaaaaHH! Alex, i'm with you for once!

OOC: Abaddon, you realize you have more posts in this thread than do a large portion of the PLAYERS in this cradle right? Stop posting here and don't respond to this post

How can I resist that? Come on Al, you should know me a little by now!?!

An its not my fault most people lack enthusiasm!

Yes I will post it tonight. I will reserve two posts about 30 minutres before it goes up. Swiss didn't get a pm? Charles didn't either. Hmmm... I wonder what that means.

I didn't get a pm either, but I haven't started fully playing yet.

The Animas Valley​

Update Two: A day in the Life​

Kana—the throne room of Shizhi Tian Qiang, in the year 298:
Shizhi Tian Qiang called the Kanese court to order with a flick of his pinky. It made Han Meilan, his mother, quite proud. She had taught him that trick to keep the fawning courtiers attentive to his every move. It wan’t much of a court really, just a recognition by the lords and ladies that Shizhi Tian Qiang was the king and powerful enough to have anyone who lacked public sufficient respect exiled or executed. Meilan didn’t really like her son, who had been clearly a conceited and spoiled brat as a child and followed the same path as an adult. She watched as he slouched in his throne and beckoned those in attendance, one at a time, to come forward and comment on his new marten robe. Insincere flattery was rewarded with a pounding from the royal staff while well-phrased praise would permit the speaker to be honored by sending a daughter or wife to the king’s bed. Many took the beatings with a tight smile. The bowing and scraping and beatings would go on for another hour and then Meilan would spend the rest of the day closeted with half a dozen of the nobles and her daughter, Tian Haomei. Together they ran the country as they had done for the past 17 years of
Shizhi Tian Qiang’s rule and all during the reign of Shizhi Tian Peng, his predecessor. She tuned out the groans of new courtier from the countryside and reflected on the history she had seen. The death of Shizhi Tian Tang, the Mighty, in 259 had marked the end of the great kings. Those were the kings of her childhood. She thought about the first time she had had tea. It had been a cold morning and Meilan had wanted to stay in bed. One of the servant girls had brought her a cup of hot water that smelled simply delicious. She didn’t realize at the time that the servant had snitched the precious leaves when the king’s cook wasn’t looking. The beatings had been worth it. Now of course tea was everywhere and a rich source of money for the king’s coffers. It had been in those days that foundation of her power was laid down. Skilled nobles worked with the king to establish the underpinnings of wise rule and the leadership of the kings failed in the following years, the nobles with Meilan’s guidance kept the peace and kept the bureaucracy working in spite of the king. The hinterlands were well managed; shipbuilding was a growing enterprise and the nation’s borders expanding. The slave traders of Opulenth worried the nobles of the western provinces and cross border raids were more frequent than anyone liked, but the nations were at peace and that was a good thing. The weeping of some lord’s daughter brought Meilan back to reality. Yes, Shizhi Tian Qiang was mostly a worthless boar, but he was her son and she would keep him happy and satisfied as best she could.

Ereva—Court of King Marcus III in the year 294:
The elaborately dressed “Caller” pounded the floor with his staff as he shouted: “Marcus, the son of Marcus, the son of Janus, the son of Marcus, the son of Linneaus, the son of Janus, the son of Titus, the son of Linneaus, the son of Janus, the son of Titus, the son of Valerian….”The staff’s pounding reverberated throughout the hall between each name. At the other end where the noise was less irritating Marcus III sat upon his throne tense with anticipation: anticipation of browbeating, intimidating or humiliating any of those slowing making their way before him. Marcus watched their nervous stances and shifty glances. He noted those who appeared arrogant or unafraid. He knew that behind his back they called him “the Cruel”. He loved it. And he loved even more that his enemies thought it a derogatory appendage to his name. Was his laugh really sadistic? He wondered. When his sister, Ariana, was next in town, he would ask her. Marcus leaned back and waited the last of the king list to be recited and stragglers to make their way forward. Arriving after the recitation was an offense to his royal heritage after all. He was the King; the last of a long line of kings and, perhaps, one of the truly great ones. He was the culmination of those kings that went before and their greatness was his greatness and it filled his very being. The fact that Linneaus and an earlier Marcus conquered the Nazarians did not diminish the fact that he, Marcus III, held it now, that his slaves worked the tin mines of Nazar, that he controlled the vast, rich lands of the mouth of the Animas and that he filled the Erevan vaults with goods of the southern ocean. At his order the Oracle of Biar was bathed in the blood of sacrificed animals every day. He had raised the “golden” Obelisks of Oran. He was the KING!

A babbling petitioner, the first of many from the looks of the crowd, broke his reverie. Marcus had no idea what this fellow was going on about. A gesture silenced him and froze the room. He loved this too. “What was next?” they would all be wondering. What would he, Marcus the Cruel, do next? Torture? Enslavement? Curt off fingers or ears? He held the pause to savor the moment and then whispered to a waiting attendant: “Enough of this, send this rabble to the magistrates, I am done here.” With an appropriate look of arrogance he left the chamber.

Prydda'annwfyn—dark recesses of a spacious cave deep in the forest in the year 298:
Anna had been her name before, but since her adoption into the strangeness of the Prydda'annwfyn and its royal macGwynn family, she was called Anakyn. The brutish, over weight and drunken king of these people, maGwynn Balliol, was in a stupor upon the bed that was just across the cave. Sunlight filtered down through openings in the ceiling making stark shadows and bright daylight. Anna had been a young girl when her tribe had fled the wars of the Animas Valley and sought the protection of the great forest of Prydda'annwfyn. Her people would never make such a mistake again. Almost all were dead. They were killed by the “bear people”. Only the clever children were allowed to live. Anna or Anakyn as she was now called was recorder and her role in Prydda'annwfyn society was to shadow the macGwynn family and remember what they did. At times she was asked to tell others what she had memorized. Speaking for other reasons was frowned upon and she might well be punished. From time to time she did speak with the traders who sailed or rowed trading vessels along the river through the lands of the “bear people”.

The life of king maGwynn Balliol was in her keeping and she remembered it diligently. It was a life of wanton debauchery and cruel judgments. Like a bear he rutted rudely and with whomever he wanted. His children were numerous. Like all of the bear people he feared outsiders and trusted no one who was not of their nation. The river trade was tolerated because it brought both wealth and things, but if a trader broke with tradition and stepped ashore or seemed too interested what happened in the Prydda'annwfyn caves and forest then the king’s judgment was swift and deadly usually with the perpetrator crucified in full view of the river. The Prydda'annwfyn kings had not always been so. They had been well led and while the wild forests and dark caves were their home, many of the trappings of her former life could be found if one knew where to look. There were roads, even if they did not look or seem like the roads of the outside; life in the extensive cave system was not as Spartan as one might think and there was food for all. And everyone knew how to fight and defend their forest. Her people found that out the hard way and to the sorrow of many. The “great barbarian invasion” as the bear people called the series of incursions by outsiders in the reign of Eadhmoon. The invasion culminated in the Battle of Turtle Cave and the death of the king. These people were so ignorant of the world that they had no idea how big it was or what happened there. They had little knowledge of the wars and kingdoms beyond their own forests. The infighting was vicious and the macGwynn’s had no trouble killing and brutalizing their kinfolk if provoked. Impaled bodies were frequent decoration in public locations and along the well-traveled river.

While rarely called to speak of the myths of these people, she knew them well and could have told the wild stories of Areddar the founder of the this race and of Aodher, macGwynn Balliol’s grandfather who built the nation to with stand the pressure of the outside. Many more secrets of this race she knew and woe unto those who thought them merely crude and brutish. Her ward rolled twice across the large bed and fell to the floor with a thud and a groan. Two small children approached quietly and place a pillow beneath the king’s head. Within minutes he was again snoring the bright morning away.

Ksiliotai—throne room of Aurigiros VI in the year 294
The palace of Aurigiros VI, lord of the Ksiliotai, was not really much of palace by the standards of the Animas, but he did not know that and thought it quite a grand place. The wooded walls were nicely carved and painted and the floor was of smoothed stones. A great fire pit dominated the center of the throne room half way between the ornate doors and the low dais where he sat on a throne younger than his 24 years. The smoke curled slowly out an opening in the thatched roof, which the king noted was in need of repair. His capital, the city of Marigaseriokos in the western lands of the Gasireai was new and with the spring rains its muddy streets were churned into soup by the steady traffic of carts and elephants. The city was on a bluff overlooking the great branch of the Animas that flowed out of the western mountains through the heartland of the Ksiliotai and on to the sea in the lands of the Ereva far to the east. Aurigiros’ long, dark hair was half-braided with ribbons and bits of gold and he twisted one strand that hung on the left side of his bearded face quite absentmindedly as he stared at the ceiling. A hundred years of turmoil had come down to him and his cup of wine, handed most casually by some servant of the time lords without a second thought.

Of course the roots of his problem lay in the past—many years in the past, in the days of Aurigiros III whose failure in war with Ereva and subsequent weak treaty deprived the Ksiliotai access to the rich valleys of the lower Animas. The disgruntled feudal lords squabbled among themselves and with the kings at every turn. They demanded privileges and honor not their due and sapped the strength of the rightful rulers. Brother fought brother and sons fought fathers for power and control. The Ksiliotai spent years in turmoil and as a broken nation. In the east the Nakatai lords supported one royal progeny after another in their attempt to control the throne. In the west with the opening of the tin mines in the lands of the Kassiteroretaia, the western feudal lords of the Gasireai (his own heritage) grew in wealth and power. A power they were not afraid to use against the Nakatai. As the centers of power moved west, so did the allegiances of the traders and their allies, further complicating the intricate and delicate and balances that when upset, meant people died. The new, written laws of King Marigaseres II (241-275) further humiliated the eastern Nakatai as did the insulting move of the capital to its new western location. The old order was dead and lay in writhing pieces throughout the lands of the Ksiliotai. A firm hand was needed, his firm hand, to rebuild a nation. He had much to do. He drained his wine, stood and stretched, and with firm determination called for his scribes.

Sedaya—in the garden of Ranai Daypa Deici, year 298
Daypa, at 47, was not typically introspective. He preferred to be practical and have things orderly, but today was the anniversary of his father’s assassination 19 years earlier. He remembered it all so clearly. His father (the king) and a troop of guards were collecting taxes a day’s journey upriver. Daypa had accompanied him as part of his education in kingship. The merchants in that small town had no intention of paying and had planned their resistance well. His mind slipped into the memory firmly etched in his mind: he saw the five traders carrying bags and wheeling carts of goods due as tax to the king. The guards were inattentive and watching the women at the well drawing water. Four daggers and a small ax cut and slashed in a slow motion dance of blood and cries and a flailing king who fell face down in the dust. Too late, the guards leapt into action, shielded his youthful self and slew the fleeing merchants. The tax rebellion planned by his father’s adversaries failed and order was restored. A barking dog brought him back to the garden and the current duties of kingship. His day was already well-planned and quite full.

He had taken his father’s ideas about good government one step forward. Daypa never collected taxes; he had a bureaucracy to that; he wasn’t just a patriot for Sedaya, he taught his officials to be patriotic. And he struggled to curtail the corruption that permeated much of the nation wherever he found it. From his garden he could see the great eastern road that snaked its way out of the city and up over the hills towards the distant mountains and the very edge of Sedaya. There, his eyes searched in vain for those distant peaks, 500 miles away were the great tin mines that had enriched Sedaya over the years. Of course he realized that the “great eastern road” was not much more than a two-lane dirt path that was well rutted when dry and a muddy mess when wet, but one day, that too, would be fixed. His father had been a man of action. If something needed doing, he would do it, often then and there. Daypa was less impulsive and would rather plan first. He was planning for his sons. Basai, the oldest, would be the next Ranai (king); His namesake, Daypa, would be one of the Nameless ones, perhaps even its leader. The other children would be trained to support realm and the king. But all that was well under way and his advisors were making sure it was going as planned. Today, he was contemplating something bigger. Sedaya was a rich nation and Daypa was thinking about leaving his mark on this nation in a tangible way: something more than the code of laws he had imposed. It had to be something useful, something grand and glorious. Something distinctly “him” that would be remembered by future generations.

Opulenth—the city of Luxur in the year 295
Luxe Kokfyte was a man who liked nice things. He liked having nice things and liked having people know he had nice things. And he even liked knowing other people had nice things too. As king of Opulenth he could do pretty much as he pleased and one of his favorite pastimes was to be carried around the city in his litter. That way he could see just what kinds of nice things his citizens had and, perhaps more importantly, his citizens could see his nice things. It was a perfect way to spend a sunny spring afternoon. Kokfyte’s litter was very nice. It was well crafted with prominent gold fittings and adornments. His cushions were soft and brightly colored to match his robes and the robes of his companion. He liked to travel with a woman who would listen to his chatter and complement him on his insightful comments. Sometimes his companion would tug gently at his famous “long beard” to get his attention for her “nice things”.

Today was very sunny and warm and the streets were crowded. Eight slaves carried his litter and he was accompanied by a dozen or more guards that pushed their way through the throngs of people. But he was not in a hurry and today’s outing was leisurely so Kokfyte could take in the wealth of the city and its citizens. Slaves were everywhere doing everything and from the looks of the crowds at the slave market, business was great and even more slaves doing the terrible work of keeping the rich content and stressless. There had been talk of letting slaves buy their freedom, but he was sure that was a bad idea. Then there were the good ideas, like pit fighting. It was new and quite exciting: men fighting men; women fighting men; men fighting animals; always to the death and always in a deep pit ringed with comfortable chairs for the spectators. He loved it. The very beautiful…What’s her name? He had so many women among his “favorites” that it was simply not possible to keep them all straight… tugged both his beard and one of the many gold bracelets he wore. He looked and she pointed, not at her breasts as he expected, but at an approaching litter.Not only was it huge, but it had four people in it. Two couples. The side curtains were open but certainly full enough that when closed they would completely hide the occupants from public view. “Oh my,” he chuckled to himself. “I must have one of those.” And then it was gone; lost in the crowds. He called a halt to his bearers as they entered one of the many squares of the city to watch the people gathered around a large stone obelisk. It was covered in neat carved text: the laws of the city and nation. All 235 were carved on each obelisk; at least one was in every significant town and there were speakers who would read them to those citizens who could not read. He was the king and could, technically, ignore them all, but he rarely did. He would rather set a good example of how the rich should behave. A slave brought him a cool drink. He sipped it and passed it to his companion to hold and with a nod he gave her permission to sip it also. As they paused in their frivolity, Kokfyte remembered a bit of state business that had been troubling him. Not all of his people were actually happy with the state of affairs in Opulenth. He focused. Not everyone was rich and many were actually poor and struggled to find food and gainful work. They had laws and order, but there were those that eyed him with looks other than admiration. And in times of clarity like now, he could see trouble in the demeanor of his people. He did not want to see his people unleashed in anger and violence. Perhaps it was time to go back to his palace and enjoy the pleasantries of this nameless, dark-eyed beauty in a more private place.

At the edges:
The Hinsa Hinga of the far north were quiet; they were hardly seen nor their language heard among the great nations of the valley. The few traders that ventured so far did bring back stories of a prosperous nation where the talk was more about lords carving up their nation into fiefdoms than of a king building a more united land. And far to the south in the islands of the south sea, the traders spoke of the Luallen people and how they had survived a civil war between brothers who had a falling out and now a new king was claiming the right of kingship and an end to strife and conflict. When the Asran came into the talk of tavern goers, most simply shook their head and said they had never heard of them or repeated some tall tale of their demise. There were those who doubted that such a tribe ever existed.

This update is unlike the others and in it I tried to convey both the key events of your orders and a bit about your kings and kingdoms. Please let me know if I succeeded or if you prefer a more traditional approach. In any case I appologize for my dealy and hope it was worth the wait.

Animas map update 2:

I liked my section, though I do want to know more of these great wars of Animas

Kokfyte does like nice things

Swissempire said:

I liked my section, though I do want to know more of these great wars of Animas

Kokfyte does like nice things

Click to expand...

Thank you. As to the wars, well this go around there weren't any beteween players.

EDIT: map up, stats next.

Lurker's comment Who is the poor unlucky dude between Swissempire and North King?

Great update! I really like the new style.

And I take it this means I can now build a wonder...joy!


EDIT: I'm assuming red=EC, blue=TC. Right?

lord_joakim said:

Lurker's comment Who is the poor unlucky dude between Swissempire and North King?

Click to expand...

OOC: That would be me

@bird, I'm afraid to say I rather prefer the old version; it doesn't seem as nice as where the cradle as a whole is talked about though I do appreciate the added attention for each country

jalapeno_dude said:

Great update! I really like the new style.

And I take it this means I can now build a wonder...joy!

EDIT: I'm assuming red=EC, blue=TC. Right?

Click to expand...

Yes and no. Blue = EC and red = TC

alex994 said:

OOC: That would be me

@bird, I'm afraid to say I rather prefer the old version; it doesn't seem as nice as where the cradle as a whole is talked about though I do appreciate the added attention for each country

Click to expand...

So noted Alex, and worthy of further thought.

Birdjaguar said:

So noted Alex, and worthy of further thought.

Click to expand...

OOC: And why is my policy not working?

alex994 said:

OOC: And why is my policy not working?

Click to expand...

It is working, but probably just not exactly how you expected. i will pm you later tonight and expalin a bit more.

Birdjaguar said:

So noted Alex, and worthy of further thought.

Click to expand...

Perhaps you could do a standard-style update for wars and things and then "spotlight" a few nations each turn?