ImmacuNES III: Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy

Any idea when the update wil be?

no sorry... i've been busy with a sick wife and been very happy to host my cousin and his wife... so its been slow going. hopefully by this weekend. Sorry for all the delays.

Take your time. I'm just glad to hear you didn't get deported again.

Ouch, wife sick again? Well, like hbar, glad your not getting deported again.

she's four months pregnant. she gets horrible migraines. its a bad combination

Oh god, I'm sorry. My mother in law has been getting about 2-3 migranes a week since she was 16. Migranes are a horrible thing.

Tell her a stranger on the internet wishes her well. And congrats on the baby!

Migrianes, ouch. I know how they feel.
Also, congrats!

Hey Immac, congrats! Ive been following this thread and its great stuff.

thanks Big B.

(sorry i was so late getting this out)


Gorium Rejects Throal Monarchy, Punished by Killmorph

When King Valarus of Throal assigns his cousin Prince Amand, the once-governor of the now-sacked city of Krigleezi to govern the newly settled township of Gorium, popular revolt follows. Gorium nobles, even family of the Throalic king, the people and especially the growing merchant class are incensed that King Valarus would assign the man responsible for letting their sister city burn to protect them. They are incensed that a leader from beyond the King’s family cannot be found. They are incensed that their voices are being ignored, that their king seems so deaf to their voices. Finally the people march on the governor’s mansions and seize Prince Amand, clamp him in irons and throw him in a hastily constructed cell.

The nobles and merchants come together and after nearly 2 weeks of intense negotiation and policy writing, develop a new model for rule of the tiny city. They will rule themselves as an oligarchic council with an elected head who will serve as ‘Doge’ to the council. They also send a specific message to the King of Throal. They will honor the rule of their monarch but insist on being able to apply their own laws to their small city.

For a town with a population of only roughly 8,000 inhabitants, it is a truly impressive display of organization, leadership and disloyalty. Indeed, it seems that many of the local merchants have done particularly well for themselves within the council, gaining both political and commercial control the likes of which would have been completely impossible under the Throalic monarchy. King Valarus is not pleased and if his forces were not completely depleted from the recent aggressions of the Patrians, there is little doubt in many a mind that the township would have been forcibly returned to direct Throalic control. Gorium seizes upon the opportunity presented however, and with funding from unknown sources develops a trained militia and a palisade. Indeed foreign funding seems to be a common theme within the township and soon enough the township has developed their own merchant galleys and begin to make inroads into the trade lanes traditionally thought to belong to Throal itself. Surprising and perhaps very ominously, the city is much more class-divided then Throal itself, even going so far as to, counter to the King’s Law, developing a slave industry.

The spectacular rise of the city-state does not last long however and in 1169 Killmorph herself punishes the tiny coastal town for its impudence and disloyalty, sending tremors and quakes that knock down many buildings and open chasms within the city streets themselves. Immediately great waves overwealm much of the seaside town. The waters do not truly abate; the sea’s waters rush in and nearly a third of the city drops into the sea. The recently completed palisade is heavily damaged, in some places there is no evidence it had ever been there. Much of the surrounding lands turn to swamp or sea. Deaths are in the thousands. There is no clearer sign of Killmorph’s displeasure. At the same time King Valarus makes it known that he believes the coup is the work of Patrian agents once again infiltrating his land and influencing his people.


The public is divided. To whom does the township owe its allegiances? Where they right to strike out on their own? Would they be punished further? Perhaps surprisingly, it is not to Throal that the elected Doge turns to in his hour of need, but to the merchant councils of Utilica and emperor of Pallitante.

Domestic changes to Gorium and Throal. Its up to the players to decide if they diplo with Gorium as an independent nation or with Throal as its rightful ruler.


Woods Dreamland Faeries Descend into Nightmare

The Araïlumni, the Tearwillow, the Pilsetan Boar tribe, and many others have, over the years, heard the subtle whisper of the forests, heard the wavering flutes and drums of satyrs and dryads, have conversed and shared poetry with pixies and sylphs, some are said to have even consummated their faith through flesh with satyrs and others. They have witnessed the waking body of the god of the forests, prayed at an awakening corpse. With the recent dispersal of these forces by Kyrion the Golden Hand and the Patrian soldiers, those who hear the whispers of the leaves have had to flee… but that does not mean they no longer listen for and hear the subtle whispers of Succellus.

Now however those whispers have changed. The change is slow, subtle, but those who hear them are haunted by the nightmarish alienness of them. Pilsetan members of the boar tribe report encountering strange creatures in the southern woods, creatures born of the woods, but also of terror. The pixies and satyrs are gone. The drums and flutes no longer play haunting forest melodies. Now, deep within the forest lies madness. Those who go to explore its depths find it changed, hostile, violent.


The changes in the southern forests are felt as far away as Achatin where the Tear Willow elves feel a shift in their faith. Acolytes of the ‘One Reborn’ are the first to hear the distorted freakish whispers. Unfortunately, for most of the unfortunate acolytes, it is too much and they quickly succumb to despair or insanity, the majority saving their minds only by abandoning their faith and their ear for the forest’s whispers. For a resolute few, they dedication is so great, that they heed the whispers and change along with their faith. Reduced to 11 elves, they call themselves the acolytes of the ‘Fevered Path’ and their leader is ‘Riano Jokkip’. The fevered path are all changed by their dedication to changed voices. First their minds, then their bodies begin to mirror the nightmarish whispers only they care to hear.


Ultimately, for most it is a distressing sign of how the Patrian defeat of the Tear Willow elves has had repercussions not only amongst the elves but amongst the very gods.

For some, it is further reason for revenge. Amongst the Achatin, one Tear Willow, a weaponsmith called Frostfire works harder than ever. She forges new blades, new armor, barding… her plan for revenge is rather straightforward.

Achatin gain 3 research points in crafts and metals.

Achatin Conduct War Games

Achatin shadow adepts and acolytes of the ‘Three Goddesses’ work together to weave phantasms of light and shadow. In a massive ‘war-games’ scenario, Captain Cleon Pathos then engages these phantasms, drilling his soldiers in the art of fighting a variety of opponents including human spear infantry and archers, elven javelin skirmishers and swordsmen, human formation infantry and mages and dwarven mixed forces.


The games, unfortunately do lead to some minor injuries and even the rare death but overall are a great success, bridging the gap between untried greenhorns and battle-scarred veterans.

Medium spear infantry, guardians of Achat, Atlatl, Crossbowmen, Scouts, Acolytes, Adepts and Cavalry gain experience.


High-priestess Ekella the Flagellant Leads Utilican Development of ‘Standing Ruins’

Alternatively called the ‘city of ghosts’ and the ‘standing ruins of lorath’ the island city renowned for its timeless ruins and mysterious ghostly voices is becoming more and more a satellite Utilican colony. New men and women from Utilica are arriving every month bringing industry, trade and culture.


High-priestess Ekella the Flagellant continues to lead the colony, treating its people as her servants (or worse) while continually pushing an agenda of never depriving oneself (especially if one is of the noble caste) of one’s lusts. More and more, for Ekella, these lusts are often violent and bloody. Finances dictated to assist in the exploration of the ruins are quite openly redirected to purchasing slaves, many from the newly developing town of Gorium. It is said that Ekella’s decadent court is at its height during this period as her parties celebrate the blood and flesh of her slaves and servants and how far it can be pushed, probed and ripped, all to satiate the high priestess’s whimsy. Amongst her court is one, Epicurius, who she takes as her personal aide and second in command. The man, little more than a boy, serves as a plaything to Ekella but as a tyrant and despot to Ekella’s court and the island’s people.

Rather than instilling outrage and anger for her misappropriation of funds, the nobles of the Divine Court are envious of the priestess’s open contempt of her orders and the base pleasures she so very openly lavishes upon herself. Though all consider their emperor the final authority in all matters both secular and divine, many emulate the distant priestess and soon both the noble courts and the rural noble estates are rife with young and beautiful slaves from across Barsaive. Petty corruption and private acts of minor rebellion, though never growing into anything significant soon run rampant through the nobles and the emperor’s court.

Meanwhile the Merchants Council continues its exponential growth, seeing excellent returns on the slave industry as it imports from Gorium and other lands.

Utilican Merchants Trading Ring gains - +1 trade goods. The salaries of the emperor and of Ekella both increase by 1 gold. Ekella the Flagellant gains ‘Epicurius aide’ (+1 salary, +1 piety). Additional effects to be described privately to the player of this nation.


Mark of the Faithful Mark Merchants of Jötunheimr

Queen Sjörå sees the growing influence of the Merchant’s Guilds and the Mammonite ‘Gold Robes’ throughout the Sanguine Sea and perhaps even within her own nobles’ courts and worries. She is right to worry. Every month that goes by, admiral Ksngt reports more and more Merchant Guild influence amongst the ships he boards in port. On several occasions multiple trade ships are found to contain human or dwarven slaves; only careful military action by the admiral prevents their being smuggled into the troll lands, though the buyers remain unknown.

To counter such efforts and to reinforce Queen Sjörå embarks on a project wherein the merchants’ stalls at the great Jötunheimr market are branded with a specially devised frost rune. The runes are magic and attuned to the owner of the individual stalls. If the owner is a devout faithful of to Mul'kjrn, the rune will accumulate frost, even in the summer heat. If the shopkeeper pays tribute to other gods, then the rune will lie dormant. Queen Sjörå defends her actions by stating that the worship of other gods is not illegal, merely that the efforts are meant to assist in determining the efforts of foreign powers to infiltrate the markets. The Scions of Twilight are a religious people, most of the population consider themselves devout worshippers of Mul'kjrn and when given the choice to support one of their own or to buy their goods from what they consider enemies of their faith, the choice is easy.

Almost overnight many merchants, for no reason other than worshipping gods other than Mul'kjrn, keeper of the ancient ways, lose the vast majority of their clientele. As sales drop to near zero, they lose their businesses and many families, living in comfort and safety are left impoverished and lose their homes.

Lo’kyl and his followers are quick to denounce the queen’s policy, claiming it an ill-conceived popularist measure meant to reinforce support for her corrupt reign at the expense of innocent merchants and traders.

Despite Lo’kyl’s accusations, the majority of the population has never been more satisfied with their queen. The policy, meant as a security measure, quickly evolves into a sort of scapegoating for individuals suffering from poverty or other ills.


Even as trade dries up and a minority of merchants and followers of Aeron and Mammon are forced into hiding, tithing and popular support increase to levels never seen before. In one disturbing incident, one particular merchant, a veteran of many trading expeditions to Utilica, Palitante and Throal attempts to ride out the storm as his clientele refuses to buy his goods. When insults and contempt turn to open abuse, the merchant hires bodyguards but the insults do not stop. Timing for the merchant is bad because at this time priests of the Frost Tooth begin delivering seething lectures on the value of tradition and the role of the hated Patrians in the Mammonite faith (and by extension, in the minds of many, the merchant class). After lectures and prayers, a seething mob of the faithful fall upon the merchant and his bodyguards and in an unexplained frenzy, bludgeon them to death.

Scions of Twilight gain ‘Runes of Mul'kjrn Policy’ improvement (+3 gold, -2 trade goods). Queen Sjörå gains 1 culture. Queen’s merchant advisor’s salary drops by 1.


Kraz-ke-Meka Uncover Hippus Kaer

The Kraz-ke-Meka are keen to uncover the ruins they have discovered amongst the incense plants of the deep deserts. New acolytes of the machine and enchantment adepts are trained to accompany the Krazian Expeditionary Force all under the command of Julien the Piker. These forces begin uncovering the ruins, unearthing more and more details until they finally uncover a great gate to a previously unknown kaer. The kaer doors are marked with runes in ancient Patrian and Hippus.

The efforts take the better part of 18 months but finally with extensive excavation (which the golems are quiet adept at) and appropriate spellcraft, as well as a judicious budget for foreign and domestic adventurers, the kaer is finally ready to be opened.

With only a series of much less complicated glyphs to unravel, the Kraz military is suddenly called back to its mother city- the Kraz are under attack. The kaer will have to wait.

One unit of scouts remain and soon they hear strange sounds from beyond the last gate. Tap-tap-tap, Scratch- tap-tap. A brave scout repeats the pattern back using his spear, Tap-tap-tap, Scratch-tap-tap. There is pause from within the gate. The scout tries a different pattern, Tap-scratch-scratch-tap-tap. Again a pause and from within the kaer, Tap-scratch-scratch-tap-tap. A chill runs through the scout and soon he is calling to his superiors, “My lord- there is something alive within the kaer.” Runners are sent back to the Expeditionary Force but they are nearly 3 weeks away.

Two days after the scouts’ encounter with something, the gates begin to slowly open. From its depths slowly arise a veritable army of hugely muscled, extensively tattooed human cavalrymen and smaller chittering reptilian creatures of a previously unknown species. These ax-wielding men ride strange fanged horses and much more foreign types of cavalry including giant beetles, millipedes and lizards. Amongst them can be seen dark-robed priestesses providing orders and governance. It is a great tide of people, prisoners finally released from their subterranean prison. There are thousands of them, and most are armed.


The living men do not immediately attempt to negotiate with the Kraz; they are a military people and set about securing a safe perimeter, their cavalry leading the efforts. With the perimeter secured, men and women riding at the head of large wagons begin to emerge. They are loaded with the goods of their kaer, food, livestock, ancient treasures. These people, rubbing their eyes against the sun, their skin red and peeling under the sun are numerous, well-armed, and organized and potentially hostile.

’Baal’ player faction comes into existence. Please allow Baal player to post their introductory story before initiating diplomacy.


Patria Assaults Kraz-ke-Meka

With a tide of armed and potentially hostile kaer-dwellers bubbling to the surface in their northern lands, the Kraz would have to have good reason to leave them be. But this they do. In the early winter of 1168 fishermen return to harbor with grave news. A great flotilla of at least 15 Patrian carracks are arriving on the horizon. The stone bird, patrolling the skies, provides similar intelligence.

Additionally, a Throalic fleet of 5 carracks, survivors of previous battles, is shadowing the Throalic fleet (whether the Patrians know about this or not is unknown).

As the Patrian fleet approaches the Kraz harbors, deck-mounted ballista and light catapults begin bombarding coastal fishing villages, the harbour district of the city, any fishing vessels that have not fled, all with missiles coated in flaming pitch.


Unfortunately the Krazian Expeditionary Force under commander Julien is still en route. The grand crafter recalls as much population as he can from the coastal villages and the coastal districts of the capital. Meanwhile a great call for militia goes up. Though the city is not known for its martial tradition, its people are loyal and motivated and its leadership is organized. Within only 2 days time a unit of light spearmen militia is armed and ready.

As the Kraz train furiously and move all they can inland, erecting barricades in their streets as they go, the Patrians continue their deadly bombardment. Warehouses and residences go up in flames. The renown Kraz carnival is struck repeatedly and suffers extensive damage.

Meanwhile Julien is moving his forces southwards as fast as he can. Every hour new runners arrive informing him of the devastation being inflicted upon his people. With the city in sight his forces receive word from villagers that Patrian horse archers are riding throughout the countryside, firing at civilians, torching homes and granaries, warehouses and mills. Splitting his forces, Julien orders a unit of pikers, spearmen, acolytes of the machine and a unit of crossbowmen to track and engage the mounted archers- all under the command of the lead acolyte, a ‘Prior Kelley’. Meanwhile he personally leads the main force southwards to protect his city.

The forces assigned to find the horse archers do so quickly; they know the lands and the enemy does not. The horse archers attempt to stay at range of the force arrayed against them, firing and retreating in cycles but the Kraz are quick to counter with their own missiles from their crossbowmen and just as the horse archers attempt to wheel and retreat to regroup, the acolytes use the last of their magics left from unraveling the kaer gates to animate nearby carts, piles of lumber, farming implements and even entire village huts to circle the mounted Patrians and entwine them. The pike and spearmen units charge and the Patrians mounted archers are encircled and forced to surrender. Horses and weapons are confiscated and the prisoners are hauled back to the city in ropes, the rural population throwing rotten vegetables and stones all along the way. Prior Kelly is given a hero’s greeting by all.

Meanwhile Captain Julien arrives back at Kraz itself only to witness its southern and eastern warehouses and residences burning uncontrollably. The people of the city are running hither and yon, unable to organize any real defenses or fight the fires as they flee from phantasmal assailants only they can see. The spear militia are engaged in a desperate fight for their lives against summoned ‘Soldiers of Soqed’, ghostly knights woven of law magics. Julien throws his forces, as well as himself, wearing the characteristic amour of the undying hippus king, at the summons and with his extensive forces, easily destroys them. While his acolytes, adepts and crossbowmen turn to the shores to return fire against the Patrian ships, Julien orders his infantry and golems to put out the fires as best as they can.

The Patrians, seeing resistance to their raid, decide that they have had enough and sail their ships northeastwards and with a precision unlikely to be accidental soon sail into a small hidden bay where 12 triremes lay on planks ready to be launched. Nearby are lumbermills and smithies- it seems that the Kraz have built a secretive site to construct ships at. Again the ballistae awaken and soon enough the almost completed triremes are completely destroyed as too are the lumber-mills, smithies and pitch-yards.

Disappointingly, the small Throalic fleet never makes an appearance.

A message arrives from Kyrion the Golden Hand, borne by a captured Kraz villager. It reads, “You have reaped the rewards of your treachery. We await your apology and a gift. Should you require another visit from our navy, it will not be a raiding party that comes, but the full force of our might. Beware less your continued treachery be your end.”

Kraz gain 1 unit of damaged light spearmen infantry with 1 experience. Kraz gain a leader, “Prior Kelley”. Pikemen, crossbowmen gain experience. Kraz gain captured Patrian horse archers. Kraz gain horses and bows; next unit of cavalry or archers hired cost half the normal amount. Julien’s heroic defense and fight against the fires gains him 1 culture. Carnival damaged (and requires 15 hammers to repair) until which time it is unusable. City hall damaged (and requires 5 hammers to repair) until which time it is unusable. Three fisheries damaged (and require 5 hammers each to repair) until which time they are unusable. Kraz loses 2 gold, 10 food and 5 hammers in damages, mostly due to the fires. Patria loses missile cavalry. Siege engineers gain 1 experience.


Marathon of Trolls Held Again

Once again the Marathon of Trolls is held amongst the Tabba Ghut. This time the festivities coincide with the founding of a new and permanent carnival. While the Marathon of Trolls focuses on feats of strength, endurance and accuracy, the carnival is more about tricks, demonstrations of strength, stories and dancing. In both there is much alcohol to be had and food is cheap. Acolytes of the Cult of Aeron patrol the festivities to ensure that thieves and drunks are prevented from ruining the festivities.

The Marathon of Trolls has become, over the decades, such a permanent and defining part of the Tabba Ghut culture that the carnivals ‘absorb’ the culture of the Marathon of Trolls. The Tabba Ghut carnival is bigger and more festive then any other carnival known to Barsaive.

Tabba Ghut carnival gains 1 culture, 1 brains. All the organizing of festivities does much to teach Mogag and his administration about city governance (+1 health)(this is mostly due to all the extensive story writing done by Northen Wolf- no more ‘Marathon of Twolls’ will be allowed at this point- they are all now part of the carnival- which is mostly self-sustaining.)


Kharkush Metropolis Expands from 800,000 to 1,500,000 in Five Years

The great metropolis of Kharkush, blessed of the god of fertility, Amakush, continues to grow as the acolytes of the god of fertility bring blessings to their people, their crops and their livestock. Meanwhile the high-priestess, the “Most Fertile Daughter” orders the construction of a series of almshouses to provide welfare to those who need it most. The almshouses prove very popular and the more successful men and women of the society are keen to show their support by donating to these poor as well.

The overall effect is a huge population boom amongst a population that is already growing very quickly. In quick succession the Kharkush overtake first the urban Uld’ar and then the urban Throalic population.

The continent’s first true metropolis reaches almost 2 million souls by the end of 1170, bringing new thoughts, and new commerce not seen in smaller cities.

Kharkush almshouse gains +1 gold, +2 food. Kharkush city gains +2 trade goods, +2 research per turn.


Uld’ar, Throal Hunt Rat-Horror’s Rat Constructs

Throal expects Patria to return to its shores at any moment and yet its scouts never report the expected amphibious assault, and so the military of that city, though not free to leave the city and address the issues of Gorium, is free to work in conjunction with specialists to hunt and kill the rat-creatures that have been attacking their people.

In Uld’ar the Grand Council has similar ideas. The military is greatly expanded, funds are made available to hire specialists tunnelers, trappers and freelance adventurers.

And so the hunt begins. In both great cities a series of tunnels and warrens are uncovered and the militaries are sent to smoke out the inhabitants using flame, smoke and pumped waters. These serve to force confrontation and though the creatures fight with tenacity and skill, their limited numbers and lack of extensive equipment prevents them from being a real threat to the dwarves and orcs.


For the Uld’ar, there is a moment when the rat creatures suddenly seem to give up. The warrens are suddenly empty. The tunnels no longer spout the vicious sneaky enemies. A few short months later, the truth of the matter is known. The Rat Horror has seen how effectively its forces are being hunted in Uld’ar city and has recalled its last remaining creatures to make their last stand in Renegade.

Even as the battle intensifies in Renegade and orcish beserkers rage through subterranean tunnels below the satellite city, in Uld’ar, spearmen are rounding up the last of the defeated creatures. For a few short weeks they are held in detention.

The Blossoms of Mercy, normally quiet and apolitical begin to make candlelight vigils for the creatures. They advocate removing the influence of the magical ‘blackthreads’, citing the change that the original blackthreads underwent in the last great clash, so many decades ago, with the Rat Horror. They argue that the Blackthread rat creatures can be rehabilitated, that they are and continue to be, ensorcelled victims of the Horror, not its willing servants.

Uld’ar Medium spear and shield infantry damaged, gains experience. Throalic dwarven heavy axemen gain experience. ‘Rat Attack’ improvements removed from Thraol and Uld’ar. ‘Rat attacks’ in Renegade reduced to -1 gold, -1 food, -1 hammers, -1 health.


War Returns to Eastern Forests

Even as the Tear Willow and the Boar tribe followers of the ‘Way of the Forest’ comes to terms with the horrifying nightmarish changes that have come to the voices of the forest, the Pilsetan Heron Tribe representative and Lion Tribe general (a new one not so much beloved of her people as the last great hero but younger and whole of body) are planning to return the mana they so recently lost back to their people. The Sjykalfar meanwhile are focusing on developing their enchantment mana into a tool to animate carts, to turn millstones, to pump bellows and generally to assist them in regaining their lost productivity.

Sjykalfar scouts, in 1167 report the first signs of renewed Pilsetan aggression. An army of spearwomen, bowwomen, and newly trained medium cavalry has crossed the border markers, their destination the air mana node. Meanwhile Pilsetan galleys are rowing upstream, making for the enchantment node to the north.

Princess Anabella has already begun depleting her mana to enchant the local smithies; her capacity for raveling war-magicks is already reduced. She must make a choice. Does she too attempt to divide her forces, or does she face one enemy only? She cannot hope to personally lead both arms of the conflict and so she turns to where the enemy is weakest; she will defend the enchantment mana and allow the enemy the air mana node. In this way she can order the recruitment of several more units to assist her and rest herself so that she can cast to her full capacity. Only then meet the majority of the enemy in open combat.

And so it is that the Pilsetan main army under the command of the Lion Tribe general is able to capture without a battle the air mana node that they themselves built so long ago. As Farsk and his assistants weave the mana flow to feed their magics and not that of the elves, their galleys meet an unexpectedly strong defense from the elves in the north.

The galleys number 15 and bear in them missile infantry, javelin skirmishers and scouts. The elves wait in ambush, their forces consist of scouts, their own units of javelin skirmishers, sword and shield infantry, and two newly trained units of cavalry, one bowmen and the other lancers. As the galleys row upstream the elves make themselves known, their queen summoning the last of the air mana to forces the galleys into a beaching position. Four of the galleys are hulled by the rocks while five others are stuck on soft sand. Immediately the Pilsetans unleash their arrows. These are responded in kind by the elven horse archers. The elves charge the Pilsetan position, their numbers and leadership providing a decisive advantage. A very quick skirmishing battle devolves into a charge by the elven infantry. Outnumbered and outmatched the Pilsetans turn again to their oars attempting to extract themselves as best as they can. Eight galleys manage to escape carrying the majority of the Pilsetan soldiers. The elves are victorious, capturing four galleys from the enemy and putting many of the warrior women to the sword.

Meanwhile the Lion Tribe general’s forces are not satisfied with the conquest of the air mana node and continue onwards, arriving at the height of the rainy season at the famed elven fortress south of their city. Easily capturing the fortress from a skeletal defense, the Patrians establish a fortified position deep within the elven lands. As the elven queen returns to her capital, celebration turns to worry when she learns of the enemies strong strategic position. Immediately she orders a siege of the captured fortress.

The Pilsetans are happy to hold the walls of the fortress. It lies at the heart of the enemy lands and every month they hold the fortress disrupts elven commerce and military development. For now, they will be careful. Perhaps from here, however, is the perfect place to strike at the elven heart- its great Dark Tree Palace.

Pilsetans galleys both damaged. Pilsetan javelin-skirmisher and missile infantry wounded, gain experience. Pilsetans gain air mana node, elven fortress. Sjykalfar gain damaged galley unit. Light infantry x2 gain experience.


Dwarven Galleons From Beyond Western Seas Drop Anchor North of Nozkam Countryside

NOTE: This entry has been edited to indicate that the Nozkam arrived at the northern shores of the Nozkam lands and not the southern shores- this was not originally clear.

When over 18 galleons sail over the horizon and into sight of the Kharkush and Nozkam Legon lands many cannot help but recall the prophecies of the orcish diviners. Could this be the armageddon of which they had spoken?


The galleons drop anchor near the northern shores of the Nozkam countryside and immediately a contingent of dwarven soldiers armed with some sort of iron staves begin rowing ashore. The dwarves ask to speak to the leadership of the Nozkam Legon.

No effect yet.



News Quickly


Maps



Additional Notes:
Cull will not be joining us as the Nozkam Legon. I think I have a player lined up though.

Orders are due Wednesday the Twenty-Fifth of August at Midnight


NPC DIPLO

From the Grand Doge of Gorium
To Palitante, Utilica, Anyone else who cares to Listen,

...help?

From King Valarus of Throal
To The Kraz-ke-Meka,

We wish to hear your views on the recent incidents in Gorium.

We are also interested in helping you rebuild.

I hope we understand each other.

From Patria
To Pilseta,

We applaud you for rejecting the chains of the tyrant King Valarus and forging your own destiny.

The rebirth of the Baal

They approached the Kaer slowly. It was never a good idea to approach in a manner that suggested aggression. They had themselves been approached in a less than gentle manner and come out of their Kaer expecting the worst. That same mistake would not be repeated with this newfound Kaer. A single representative was sent down towards the tear in the ground that served as the passage to the citadel entrance. It was quite narrow and would afford the inhabitants some protection against anyone with bad intentions. It started off quite shallow on the flat ground and you could visibly see it expand and get deeper as it slid up the face of a small canyon wall. The large stones that appeared to be obelisk in nature were home to curious wind chimes made of bones. They seemed to offer a warning to anyone approaching, but other than the Horrors, who else would have put up warnings? It was curious and raised the hackles on many that approached this day.

The single scout that had originally approached and tapped the butt of his spear against the Kaer gate, approached. He bore a white flag of peace blew a horn that reverberated in the boxed canyon and beyond into the dunes, setting to flight flocks of dark birds that cawed loudly and circled several times before settling anew onto the obelisk tops.

The quiet after the horn seemed to stretch indefinitely. You could hear people shifting, and their feet brushing the loose rocks of the ground. The chimes amongst the stone obelisk continued their haunting rattle. But it was the absence of sound from the cave that seemed loudest of all.

The silence was broken by a grating sound from deep within the cavern. It was the sound of rusted metal and broken stone; harsh, piercing and sudden. Quiet fell again as suddenly as it had been broken. The single man bearing the white flag shifted from foot to foot in nervousness. He suddenly stopped moving and his nervous energy passed on to the rest of the people further back. He had seen something. What he had seen soon became apparent to those further back. Dark coils of mist that snaked their way out of the cavern had suddenly appeared. The mist did not dissipate when brushed by the sun, but instead seemed to intensify and take on an oily sheen of greens and purples. The bearer of the flag had time to look back searchingly once before the mist reached him. The look was one of appeal and fright. It was not long after the mist touched him that his eyes bugged and he screamed horribly. He dropped the flag of truce, began clawing at his eyes, straightened and then suddenly collapsed to the ground where he twitched violently for several long heart beats before he went still.

The men further back seemed to edge back en masse, but all stopped as the next sound reached their ears. Yipping and the sound of claws scrambling over stone reached their ears. Small dog like lizards seemed to scuttle over the ground, staying in the shadows and keeping to whatever cover they could find. So proficient were they that many onlookers were unable to establish what they were looking at. But soon enough they all got clear looks as the small creatures seemed to all stop in defendable positions and wait motionless. No one failed to note the stillness, with which they paused, or the readiness and tautness of their frames.

These small creatures had proven a distraction however, as no one seemed to have noticed any sound, until from the cave appeared a black steed. It was massively heavy in muscle, and yet seemed to flow in its movements. None noticed the patches of scale that randomly appeared across its body, nor the red eyes that seemed to glow from under the blackened metal face guard, or the oddly clawed feet that no longer resembled a horse’s hooves. No one noticed because they were all riveted on the large human that seemed to slump in the saddle that denoted an ease and comfort in the saddle that few could posses. His large body was covered in blackened chainmail, barbaric furs, metal plates beaten into screaming faces, and most noticeably tattoos that covered what could be seen of the face from the horned helmet and up both arms from fingertip up to where the armor covered it. His left hand rested on the saddle’s pommel. His right arm hung down and from one large scarred and tattooed hand, lazily hung a massive black axe that seemed to smother the light. The massive axe would have been beyond the strength of most, and yet looking at this man’s hulking corded muscle, none doubted that it would move faster than they could imagine.

His horse stopped seemingly without prompting and he stared at those waiting in the clearing. His eyes went from man to man and few had the strength of will to endure his look. Finally one man stepped forward to introduce himself and his party.
“Welcome back form your time in the Kaer, we are…” he had begun before the horseman interrupted him.

“I am Gwahyr of Baal” he rumbled quietly. And yet all could hear him. “We are the Baal and we have been born again”

cheers, Blackbard
(and hi everyone, good to be joining you!)

Good to have you Blackbard. Everyone feel free to diplo the new faction.

To the Grand Doge of Gorium
From Princess Anabella of the Sjykalfar

The disaster that has been brought upon you is purely of your own fault. Deceit and revolt against your benevolent and lawful ruler bears its punishment. We realize that your infantile and egoistic minds may not have fully have realized this, and we grant you one full year from the sending of this message to fully return to the rule of your lawful king.

If you decide to waste this chance, let it be known that the people of Gorium will be looked upon as enemies of my people, and that your merchants will find nothing but death in our lands.

Princess Anabella of the Sjykalfar.

To all nations of Barsaïve
From Princess Anabella of the Sjykalfar

The past years have taught us the true nature of more than one foreign nation; Can there now be any doubt that Patria will not stop until the free powers of Barsaïve have been snuffed out or succumbed to the links of patrian chains and the weight of slave labour?

And can there now be any doubt as to the intentions and warmongering lusts of the Pilsetans? We urge all who wish to live as free men and prosper in peace to support our cause now. Let it be known that we will not again forgive our foolish neighboors, the Pilsetans. The thrones and peoples of Pilseta will not rest again but on the bottom of the ocean that we will drive them into!

Princess Anabella of the Sjykalfar

To the newfangled nation of 'Baal'
From Princess Anabella of the Sjykalfar

Our scouts and diplomats report of your appearance on the face of Barsaïve, and we are pleased to greet you as our friend and equal. We know that you may not have had the time to gain an overview of the complex diplomatic and political relations that range across the continent, but we are certain that your people remember the oppressive influence of the Patria.

Can we count on you in the struggle to cull the imprisoning grasp of Patria today?

On a personal account, one of my scouts have reported that many of your people seem to have been warped during your stay in the kaer. You may have heard of our similar fate; I feel that our peoples share a certain kinship in this matter, and I hope that our peoples can live alongside eachother as sisters.

My sincerest greetings,
Princess Anabella of the Sjykalfar.

How many updates have I missed? Is it just this one? Just need to know how much I need to catch up on

Wow looks like things are getting interesting on the other side of the continent.

Hi ekolite,

Yeah, i think you just missed the one update. Things have been busy. are you back now?

To Evil Witch She-elf

You fiend! We are not daunted by your claims of peace, for you must have secretly perverted the forests before the death node is destroyed! We fight with light hearts that we will will this battle and that we will take your head and we will burn it to save Barsaive!

(my cavalry didn't arrive)
(lol, that seriously complicated matters)
D)

You got your orders in after the deadline Terrance888. Unfortunately for you, i therefore took the spirit of your orders into consideration (where i could) but the update was already under preparation when you submitted your orders. I know that your computer time is limited but you also know when orders are due. So, please take the appropriate measures to get your orders in on time and if you know that you will not be available to submit orders near the deadline, submit them early.

This applies to everyone incidentally. I don't want to be a jerk but at the same time, i hold up the game long enough all by myself without any help.