PureNES: Years of Excelsior

@SS: Sure! I am the danchou after all ;D

I heard they were selling some at Anime Expo for around $20 each (I didn't see any myself; they must have sold out. )

I am back! wtf! where is isus?

Li, I have no idea what you are talking about. Clarify or don't spam.

@NK: I might write a PM with more specific orders, depending on what you prefer. I have a plan ready for how to deal with the Sea Peoples (hinted at through my story) but in case you don't want any more details (because it "produces update hours" or otherwise) I can live with not sending them. Just wanted to check before I sent them... Although I guess you could still chuck them if I sent them and you didn't want them. (But that's not the kind of charcter I think you are.)

@LF: I'm sorry, but I didn't have any time to drop by Akihabara today, and I'm leaving Tokyo tomorrow. However, I have some pictures from the Contemporary Arts museum where they had a Ghibli exposition... I'll send them to you once I get home - in about three days.

Updating this takes almost no time at all; same with Glory, it's just that I'm so lazy that I tend to leave it until late at night. So orders won't do much to make it longer; feel free to send.

On the Isus Pensula, Trouble is brewing.... The Isus ambassador Stared at a huge ship yard where once a peacful farm layed. He looked arround, and then widended his eyes as a fish boat was assembled in seconds by a small group of 10 people..., the 2 by 7 was quickly built withen monent, then they went to work and another, .. finished... The ambassador, newley recruited from a mountainous village, ran toward the Shipyard, bumping into a logger.... His eyes nearly popped out of his eye.... Hunderes of hardwood trees are cut down, the logger smiled a white teethed grin, and he nearly fainted...
He stared at a familiar face, then... "Ambassador Irayna! how nice to meat you!",Then the Young man grinned and said, "wondering wat is happening?" The FRighted ambassador, who we clearly know is Irayna, just shook his head. Then The young man laughed, "Well, my people and I are celebrating the Hundredth year of me being brought to this wonderful pla..." Irayna Widened his eyes again, "You are.... King Avien?" "Thats right, now follow me, i am setting an example for others and worked with them". Then, the surprisingly over hundered year-old king lifted himself up and help pull the Ambassador-in-training up, who was dazzeled by all this change. He sudenly looked down and behold! 10 saplings are already planted at the stump's edge. He followed his king.
Cheers went up as the king pass through an odd device that lifed the workers over the field below, showering the ground with wooden shavings. Then, as he worked, the pace lifted a little as the other group marveled at their speed and skill. Irayna noticed that they are the same group that quicky assembled the fishing boats. He suddenly felt pride and worked with them on a large ship, almost the twice the size of the gallys that trained on a mountain lake near where his school lies.
It was tough, teams of men laid rutted rails that are raised. Trees are put in a wagon on the top as the bottem one is unloaded, then the wench is let go and the wagons switched sides, a cutter in the middle sliced the logs in half and then a gear stopper was pressed and the wagons slowed down to be loaded/unloaaded again. Rough cutters, newest the the trade, cut all the bark and branches off carefully.
The branches where passed on to the peg makers while master Wood crafters sliced the wood into water planking (middle 4) ridgeing (outside) and ribbing, and deck bords (every thing in between).
The squared bocks whee send the tho ship builders via another set of rails, maned by a strange set of sails on each end, the sails turned a pulley and turned the load back while the other one is closed. He wondered why they did that until he saw 4 horses... only 4? Thats why they are useing the divice, no enough horses!But the Intake of the wood is still enough to pile up until the readying of the big ship, it wast speedily accembles, and he worked asside them.
Suddeddly, a voice called out , it was king Avien, "Get into the Triereme!"And then, the realized the bigship is a triereme, and his work is on the top of the massive ship that broke free of the dock.The crops! "Pray tell!"he pleaded the the king"how can we save the crops? ithought this was part of a celebration but it wouldn't be if people go hun..." he was sileced by Avien's grin, like an old mand that figured everything out ands had all the cards.The logs where towed like a net! none of the crops was touched! and some farmers are already tending the crops about an hour late. All that is changed is tha harbor, which once held very little ships, and now held 50 fishing vessels, 5 trading Bieremes and a single triereme. Two rails, on halfay to the mountain village, th eother to the dockling, and a small ammount of instructers introducing the villagers to the new food sorce and teaching them to use, maintain, and build more of them, especially the newest invention, rails. There are also instructed about how to work the triereme and bireremes as defence.
Then, the heavy pounding of a drum sounded as the workers moved to the next project. A week later, he, and 19 others, became professionals in the way he villagers felt, their pride and moral, and infractructure.





Effect of this celebration:
+ unknown culture and moreal
+20 trieremes and 100 irregulare diffence-only bieremes
+some infanstructure, alot more prodce can arrive at more urban centers while workers movint the oppeset ways will be slightly faster
The basic tech of "rail and rutts"originally discovered in Classical rome and more built in Roman Empire, Full capitalized in 1700s in the real world
ok?

@SS: I didn't even know you were serious about the armband. But yay for pictures!

It's okay though. I was bored enough to make my own armband for around $2. Think: red cloth + sharpie + a bit of sewing.

The upside is that it's cheap.

The downside is that my parents won't let me go out in public with it because it brings back back memories (think: Chinese Red Army, or Nazis)

Oh, and my teeth are killing me right now, so story to come later (or tomorrow - or Monday at 11:59 PM)

I think a quick story is in order

The Flowing Springs

The Burim was personally supervising the finalization of the fortifications. Nothing was going to come through without a decent fight. His new recruits, the Kuq his people called them due to their red robes, were busy training some volunteers below him. He had one less worry with them about. He turned around to look out across the lands to the north. It looked so peaceful now, but he new the blood thirsty hordes waited there. Even as he scanned the horizon, he saw a band of horsemen. All in brown garments and rugged looking. He turned back to his fortress. Several minutes later a lookout called out. he turned and saw the band was approaching. he called the men to prepare, but noticed that it was only a small group, ten at the most. Half an hour later a soldier came to him. They were holding 10 Jiru riders. The interesting thing was that they seeked passage to the Spring. The Burim was somewhat surprised by the request, but it was not unknown for people from other nations to visit the Spring, and why wouldn't a Jiru want to either. He allowed them passage, seeing that they were neither armed nor really the type to cause trouble, although he made sure they were escorted. It was later that night that it came to him. The rider when they left met the Burim and thanked him for allowing them to visit the Spring. It was a spiritual experience for them, something they never really got whilst with the horde. The Burim considered the possibility of other Jiru visiting the Spring. Was it possible to bring the Jiru to the spirits, cleansing those who were worthy. Maybe they didn't have to fight.

The following morning 5 priests, young and armed, were sent out north. The following week, 20 riders were seen approaching the fort....

@Li/Chineseman: Explain your story - if that is what it is...

@LF: Heh, I was even considering leaving a bit earlier today in order to sweep by Akihabara. I still can, ATVM, but since you already have one... I still would like to go there just to get a few pictures of the maids running about in the streets. (Yes they do, and no, I don't have any pictures with them... yet.)

Silver Steak said:

@Li/Chineseman: Explain your story - if that is what it is...

@LF: Heh, I was even considering leaving a bit earlier today in order to sweep by Akihabara. I still can, ATVM, but since you already have one... I still would like to go there just to get a few pictures of the maids running about in the streets. (Yes they do, and no, I don't have any pictures with them... yet.)

Click to expand...

I got called to Lunch and the PC autoposted the story.... sorry! i will fix it... it is about the 100 centery the day Avien arrived and they Cele... opps! i can't give it out!

You should sweep buy and get me one anyway! D:

I want to see what a professionally made one looks like! D;

Fang and Steak, since I have no idea what you're talking about, stop spamming and post a story.

*sputter* But I already did! Three, actually! And it's too late for that, LF. I squandered my time reading in a properly AC'd room.

Will be back home in two/three days. Will send orders then.

Luna narrowed her eyes as she peered across the horizon. There they were, the red haired barbarians, bloodthirsty and ready to battle. She couldn’t help but wonder what it was that drove them to attack Vardis. Was it hate? Was it a war of conquest, a search for wealth or power? Or was it fear?

Luna wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Fear was a great and terrible motivator. People would do anything to avoid facing their fears. It would be unsurprising if the world to the south was full of dangers, or some force that frightened the Inidai. They were taking a great risk, sending wave upon wave of men against the armies of Dawn and Dusk. If they were level headed, they most likely would not be here, gambling their very existence on the plains of Deis.

It was that way with the people in Vardis as well. In the time before the union of Light and Dark, the common folk of Vardis had let fear run their lives. They had avoided and distrusted their neighbors, they had withheld from profitable ventures and excursions because those whom they would have to deal with were of the opposing faith. They had held themselves back, they had weakened themselves.

Luna had seen the change. She had seen brothers lay down arms and cease their conflicts. She had seen the prosperity that had resulted from a united Vardis, the boost in culture and general contentment, the thriving trade. Yes, ironically a united Vardis was more Orderly than before, but it left room for creativity and change, elements of Chaos. The world always righted itself, a Balance was always struck.

Thus Vardis had taken upon itself to preserve Balance, to avoid extremes on either side, to avoid the strife and pain that would keep the people of the world from making the most of their lives, from being prosperous and happy.

Their first challenge, however, had found them. The Inidai invasion must be routed. Luna would see to it. She had not forgotten her father’s dying words. King Sol would probably go down in history as one of the greatest Kings Vardis would ever know, she was proud to be his daughter, and his successor. Her eyes glazed over as she remembered what he had said as he lay dying.

”The time has come. The ancient prophecies have been fulfilled. The descendents of the Demons return from the north, and those of the Angels from the south. The people of the world must unite, or they will fall. Vardis will be critical in maintaining the Balance, that is it’s call. The fathers of all things, of the Demons and Angels both, have chosen us.

Should Vardis strive to maintain Balance, it shall prosper in the land. However, should such time come that men grow corrupt and care not for Balance, should they lean to Chaos or Order alone, should they forsake their obligations as guardians of Balance, then the wrath of the fathers shall be upon Vardis, and there shall be great death and destruction amongst its people. Do not forget the call…never forget the call…

Luna’s eyes snapped back in focus as a horn blew in the distance. The Inidai were beginning their charge. She reigned up in front of her men, and looked her generals in the eye. “Never forget the call”, she said as she turned to face the barbarians. She raised her sword and signaled onward, unleashing the fully mustered might of Vardis upon the plains. They would triumph. They had to triumph. They must not fail their duty to the world.



To: The People
From: Vardis

We propose an exchange of ambassadors, and that our traders be allowed to travel further downriver, that we may contact other nations as well as your own. We desire friendly relations, and the prosperity of both our peoples. We hope that what little Vardis has to offer for trade will be to your liking, and that we may work more closely together in the future.

We also would warn you that there is a great tide of barbarians flowing from the south, which may soon affect your people as it does Vardis. We would ask for your aid in our efforts, but understand that you owe us nothing, you are not obligated to us. In any case, we hope that you shall steel yourselves, for if the Inidai succeed in their efforts, you shall be next.

I'm signing off until Tuesday evening. Please get your orders and stories done; they are due the midnight between Tuesday and Wednesday.

I will try to come up with something before tomorrow evening, hopefully work isnt as crazy as it was today.

The Seafarer
"Do what you want, as long as I get what I want."
-Veritor Maris Ambulos

The Veritor looked at the sea. Really, it should have been one of those story moments; he was out at the sea, something important was on his mind, and lo and behold, one of his trusted advisers was next to him.

"Tell me," he said, eyes twinkling again, as he was apt to do once a week (really, once every ten days was a bit much), "what is the size of the Regiom Fleet?"

"Ah, ten ships, sir."

"Good, good. Inspection time."

They walked over to the port. It was a beach that had a piece of wood sticking up that had "Imperial Port" scrawled on it in almost illegible graphum, along with unknown white/gray blotches on it.

"Our ships, Veritor."

He sniffed contemptuously.

"They're rafts," he said, as he was apt to do.

"No Veritor, sand doesn't float well." It was an old joke; now it was more of a rehearsed greeting, a ceremony they played weekly.

"By the Nameless One, that's bloody pathetic. Look at what Jykmor has given us; four classes of all gifted people in their own ways, and none of them even bothered to make our bloody ships float. My Deitess, why has nobody even cared? Don't we have a Curor of Ships?"

Well, this was new.

"Veritor, we have a Curor of Military, but not one of ships."

He waved his hands impatiently. His voice rose in pitch indignantly.

"Won't do, won't do, won't do at all." He had that glint in his eye again....

"Bring somebody in. Anybody from one of the seafaring peoples. Make him (or actually, a group is fine too) teach us how to build powerful ships. Do it. I don't care how much it'll cost."

"By Jykmor, ten rickety ships, and we have such a fine country too..."

He walked away, back to the palace. His obsequious assistant followed obsequiously.

"Oh, by the by, tell those slaves to build a proper port. And a lighthouse. And all those fine things. Make them all grand, national monuments, whatever."

--

"Sir?" Another man, far less servile.

"Yes, yes, come on, I don't have all day."

Yes, your day is filled with watching the new ships be built. He held that comment in though. One didn't rise to such a position of power by voicing every criticism that came to mind.

"A military class, what a great idea!" His eyes gleamed, and he clapped his hands in delight.

"Veritor...?" My libros, what a childish ruler.

"A fifth class, working in conjunction with the other four!"

Appearances can be deceiving.

"Military, man, military! A military class who will sail the ships and protect our lands, like a Watch. Peaceful guardians in times of peace, and hounds of war in times of war!"

"Sir?"

"Do it, I don't care how it gets done, as long as it gets done. Pull some from every class of peoples, we need it."

"But when it's peacetime, we shan't need so many--"

"That's okay, just make sure they're better than what we had before. You make it work; I'll do the ideas part."

He sighed. Child-kings could be such a pain.

I will be home in 4 days. I am in Berlin and will not be sure when I have wifi access again.

Okay, I'm back. We'll see how today goes.

The People were surrounded on all sides, beset by all manner of evils, and their brothers to the north were falling off the Path. The Councils had nothing to offer by way of advice for the Drake, and so he left for a time. He travelled deep into the domain of The People, deep into The Marsh. The People, being uninventive with names, had always called the region to which The Drake travelled the “Deep Marshes”. The ancient capital of The People, Aeblegården, was located here in the Deep Marshes, and it was there that the Drake was bound. Long ago, it had been a grand city, and the place where The People had found their great treasures of the Old Age. Now, however, it was ruined, half-swallowed by the poisonous waters of the Deep Marsh, waiting to be rediscovered, and rebuilt to its former glory. It called to the Drake, in his dreams. It called him by his old name, Ágeirr, “all-spear”, and sang out to him, promising glory, and riches. The Old People, the heart of the Nation, and the majority of the Councils, had adapted to the poisonous air, and were able to move through them with ease. The bloodline of the Drakes had adapted enough that they could move through these mists easily enough, albeit with some irritation, and so the Drake came to these poisoned airs, these dark mists, and brought with him the Chair of the Quetzal Council, the rulling body of the High Priests of the Dragon Path. As these two men, one an exceedingly old priest, the other a youthful young king, forged their way through environments not seen by human eyes in at least two hundred years, they began to feel a certain sense of dread. Until, at last, a great stone arch was ahead of them. As they passed beneath it, they felt something akin to relief: they had found it. The city, the Applegarden, as it had been ironically named, did not seem at all sunken, but rather, a series of canals (an art taught to The People by one of the conquered tribes). Rising above the canals were ornate bridges, and elaborate buildings all carved with dragons. Until, at last, two colossal buildings rose out of the mists, facing each other across the canal. On one side, a building with a great dome, carvings, and a colossal statue out the front of an unfamiliar man. On the other side of the canal, a building carved with thousands of dragons, all climbing towards a great spire made from glass, rising above the mists. At long last, The Drake had reached the heart of the Old People. As soon as he moored his canoe to the stone jetty near the domed building, the Quetzal[1] scrambled out of the boat, and made a dash towards the huge temple. The Drake, by contrast, moved cautiously to the domed building, reading the inscription on the base of the statue, which identified the man as “The Great King, Who Saved Us From The Dark Prophet, And Lead Us Into Exile”, and the building as the “Palace Ráðúlfr the Great.” On entering the Palace, the Drake was stopped. Everywhere in here was ornamentation. Weapons such as he had never seen, ikons of the Dragon and the Wyrm, and maps...maps showing lands to the West. Lands that were fertile. Lands entirely unlike the Marsh. Lands where the People and their allies could build great cities, to rival even Aeblegården, in its ancient glory. This is where he would lead his People. Old People, New People, Allied Tribes, all would march to the West, all would settle, all would bring wealth to his coffers, and to the coffers of the Councils. Grabbing what he could, including a sword that had caught his eye when he first entered, he set off for the temple, leaving what he had taken in the canoe. As he approached the temple, something to his left caught his eye. A glinting, like that of gold. On moving to investigate, he found a ladder made of metal, leading down beneath the surface of the ground. As he climbed down, he found one thing, a small book. He sat on the cold, damp ground, opened the book, and began to read.

“I am Rathulf, a Southerner, and I have been named King of The People, or what little remains of them.
They claim I lead them from someone called “the Dark Prophet”, but all I did was ask after the Old Ways of my fathers. Nonetheless, I am now King.
They have constructed for me a great city, using all the resources they have left, and some sort of plague has surrounded this city with a poisoned mist that affects only outsiders.
They call it the Dragon's Breath, mostly, though I heard Hrafnkell call it the Wyrm's Embrace.
Saxi believes its all in our heads, but I am not so certain.
The other day, a trader from my homeland was driven mad by the mists...
Or murdered by the People, they refuse to say which...
The mists have had a profound effect on the mentality of The People, not to mention the immigrants who already lived here.
Immigrants now complain of irritation in their chests, if they do not go mad or die...it is all mental.
Even now, The People are vacating the City, and so I sit here, in my underground salvation, begging them to stay in my Applegarden.
But still they flee.
It is my hope that someday, one of The People will return, and find this journal, and return the Garden to its true glory.
Whoever is reading this, I beg you, bring The People home, and fight to keep them here.

Rathulf Sebbison”​

Ágeirr leant back against the wall. He was a warrior, he had not planned on finding something akin to this. Nonetheless, this was The Old People's “Great King”, beseeching him to return them here...he needed the Quetzal Council's advice on this one, certainly. As he climbed the ladder to the surface, The Drake could not help but question: did The People truly build this grand city, or did one of the other Old Empires build it? The People, it seems, never ruled the great Empire they believed they had, but records from all around showed them as always having ruled The Marsh. Who built the Applegarden, and why? And, most importantly, how?

Drake XIII, Ágeirr, All-Spear, had these problems to contend with as he and his Quetzal companion returned home. But he had one decision already made: the Old Capital was Capital once more. The People were returning to The Applegarden.



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[1] A Quetzal is a high priest of The People.


For the record, yes, I do know that Quetzals are Central American, and therefore completely out of place with the Nordic theme of the rest of The People, but if you want to complain, sod off. Likewise with the Applegarden. If you want, you can think of it as basically two stone buildings, surrounded by wooden houses, with the marsh deepened to make canals.


Orders!

- Expand to the West of the Marsh
- Move the Capital to whereever in the Marsh you want to, North King. I ain't picky. Preferably, a bit northwest, but I don't really care.


Sorry for this being later than last minute, but I have lotsa schooly stuffs. If this is too late, just ignore it. Use it next update, or something. Dunno.

EDIT: My apologies for any spelling mistakes, I'll fix them one day, but I don't have time now, nor do I have a word program with spellcheck at the moment. So, again, sod off.