Legends of Citana: The First Era

Tales from the Lands of Winter Fay: Part 4: Royal Court and an Attempt at Diplomacy

It seemed never to stop snowing this winter and though it was but December trackers and trappers already wore the long narrow snowshoes they normally saved for the later depths of winter. But that did not stop King Hermóðr from holding court outside this evening. Like all Vanir, he had a natural affinity for cold and snow and he greatly enjoyed the way Vanir glamour of his courtesans and family interplayed aesthetically with the moonlight on the gently falling snowflakes. His features were calm as he enjoyed the brisk winter evening air. He wore an iron hauberk and a broadsword lay leaning against the throne upon which he sat. Ever-young and proudly bearing the scars of his hanging, he appeared every bit the role of the noble hangadrott, sacred warrior-knight and king of the Vanir people. At his side, perched serenely on a wooden throne delicately carved and inlaid with silver sat his new wife, Queen Eochaid Indai. Of Tuatha Dé Danann blood, she did not share the Vanir resistance to cold and her thin frame was wrapped in finely tailored ermine fur robes. Those with the most noble of blood might penetrate the royal glamour to make out a girl-child, the newborn princess, Delbáeth (a tuatha name) squirming beneath her robes. Standing near them was the youngest of the princes, Ulfric,who had inherited the king’s first wife’s black hair and thinner build. Never the natural warrior that his older brother, Sven, was, Ulfric was gifted with a calculating mind and interest in politics and diplomacy that served him well in court. The court itself was made up of many warrior-jarls and leaders of the guilds. The Desir witches were not in attendance. If the royals or nobles had need of them, they would go to their caves deep in the mountains for the Desir did not come to court often.

Across from the royals stood four Vanir who’s stature and width was greater than any other in court. Taller by half a foot than any others present and probably nearing four to five hundred pounds each, they were the embodiment of Vanir elite warrior-hood. Despite their build, they moved with an uncanny, almost supernatural, grace. Their strength, grace and especially the black wolf-fur pelt they wore marked them as the most elite of the Helvan warriors; these were known as the skin-shifters and there were only four. The men were known as Steinvor, Ulfeid, Gudrik, and Raudebjorn. The frist three had only just returned from the southern woods where their scouting expedition had led them to violent confrontation with the scouts of the Empire of Barslov. Raudebjorn, for his part, had returned from a sailing expedition into warmer waters searching for a site blessed by the dead goddess with natural fish banks, timber, ore and fertile soil. In rough growly voices suggestive of the wolf-form they would assume in battle, they were finishing their tale that the king, the noble jarls, and the scribes might know what befell them in the southern woods.

Throughout all of Éljúðnir, many a serf or freeman’s tongue spoke of the Barslov ship and its sudden unexpected appearance at the wharves. Naturally isolationists, the majority of the population were glad they had left but a vocal minority, especially those in the guilds were critical of the reception that had been provided to the southerners. These argued that the King or even the nobility should have greeted them to try and establish ties and good-will. But they hadn’t, reasoning that foreign sailors of mortal blood were beneath them and any effort by Vral’s court to speak with them should have been spearheaded by a royal, a prince or some other high-ranking noble.

At court, the skin-shifters had similar feelings, though their reasoning was different. The king asked them why, “Ulfeid, you speak of the Barslov serfs with obvious sympathy but as soon as you mention the soldiers or gentry you are obviously hostile and refer to their king as ‘Vral the Bloody’. Why?”

The warrior’s yellow eyes shone with an unconcealed excitement he didn’t bother to hide, “The Wolven Mantle has changed me; its changed all of us, of that there is no doubt. The Desir witches who imbued them with the essence of the wolven curse did not just pass on the wolven shape, strength and speed that has made us what we are today, it also passed on some of the finer points of the curse. The curse hates the one known as Vral, his soldiers, and his bloodline. It pities the weak and those who, unarmed, might be slaughtered. Those feelings are mine now, for the curse is part of me now and I am a part of it. I cannot help but hate the man who is responsible for the massacre and if you ask me what massacre, I cannot tell you- I only know that the curse is one of vengeance, for the blood of innocents spilled. You ask, my king, why I call him ‘Vral the Bloody’ and I can only answer that truly, the name is not one I give, but that the curse gives. No- there should be no peace with these people as long as that man is their emperor; slay Vral, and bring peace to his people and to the spirits trapped by the curse he called.”

Behind the king, Prince Ulfric caught the eye of one of the guild leaders mouthed something that seemed to satisfy him for the guilder quickly nodded, then cleared his throat, “Father, we have had word from the Barslovian people. They would like to live in peace with us. We must consider this. Even Ulfeid who would encourage war and conquest makes mention of their elite ‘Brazen’. I am no coward and I do not fear these men but there are many more of these Brazen than there are of our Skin-shifters and to think that our serf-militia, despite their numbers, can stand against the disciplined ranks of the Brazen is to underestimate their discipline, training, and weapons. No father… there is nothing to be gained from war; instead, let us live in peace, side by side, and perhaps we can even trade with them and prosper.”

For the majority of the court, the prince’s words were anathema and most of the nobility were disagreeing quietly with his words as he spoke but others, especially the guilders and some of the more progressive nobility were anxious to agree adding, “The prince is wise,” and, “Let us not waste our treasures on an unnecessary war.”

The four hulking warriors wearing their wolf pelts argued for raids by sea and through forest. The nobles agreed. They argued at the lack of respect shown to the Vanir by sending common sailors to speak with them. They spoke of the natural superiority of Vanir fey blood over man’s. Prince Ulfric was persuasive, diplomatic and well-spoken, again having inherited from his mother and his coalition gained ground with arguments of patience and the need to learn more even if later there would be war.

Ulfric’s way was not his fathers but the queen spoke next. Her people were not a warrior race like the Vanir. The tuatha were more prone to diplomacy and trade and she, like them, was loathe to spill blood, even that of men, without good cause. It was her words finally that swayed the king and so he proclaimed, “Go forth Ulfric and serve as my ambassador to these men of Barslov but should they insult us or our noble line, I will place your brother inc command of the war-parties and you know he is a man of the steel and blood and not of words.”

In the early morning a raven was sent south with a message for Vral of Barslov,


To Vral of Barslov, who is called Emperor,
From Prince Ulfric of the Helvan

Greetings to a man of noble blood and peaceful spirit. Know that our people do not extend the hand of friendship easily to men of crimson blood. I speak with an authority granted by my king but should he be insulted, I will lose that authority and we will lose our opportunity at cooperation and friendship.

That said, I will make the trip to your capital that I might learn of your people and ways but my father the king will insist that I am treated in a manner befitting my royal blood. I am more patient but he will not bare insult to my person or more importantly my nobility. I hope that you understand the circumstances of my viist.

That said, I am very eager to establish cooperation between our people and many of my friends in the guilds are even more eager to establish trade.

Let us toast to mutual respect and cooperation and I look forward to soon meeting you in person.

Sincerely,
Prince Ulfric

Perhaps you could add the nation name in a slightly bigger font in the area of influence to the map? It is a bit lengthy to work out through the stats city names to nation names...

@Boundless: I'll see what I can do about that, problem is keeping the names all legible at the current size, as well as keeping the file size below 5 MB.

@TerrisH: Sorry, but if you want to spend, you'll have to say so in your orders. I saw no spending, so I did no spending.

Baethor sulks around the Palace, talking to Thal Modan and trying to explain the grave nature of the situation. Thal argues back at him, holds his ground.

Baethor bickers about his plan, the opposition is too much, the city cannot hold, and the Mage retreats from the Marble Throne.

Dorian the Rat sees it all, in the darkest corner of the room. He shakes his head as he watches the proceedings.

The Rat is not a nickname, not a personal moniker, The Rat is Dorian's family name, from ancient tradition. It was the mythical 'Usurie the Rat' who smuggled bodies into Alinor in the early days of the Academy, when Conjurer Kings banned necromancy. It was Arroth the Rat who, it is said, arranged assassinations to bring those same Sorcerers into the treaty of Alinor and the creation of the land of free elves now known as Sommerset.

The Rats did great things, there were times in the Ancient Days when men would take up the surname as their own in honor of the Great Family of Lowborn Elves, but they were also reviled for the methods they used. Armies had been tried, the rats argued, but they had failed the elves of Sommerset. Deception served the people well, but they were still uneager to trust it.

And so as the Academy raised to prominence in Alinor the time of The Rats declined, mages were well advised to avoid any who took the name of the Rat and now Dorian remains the only heir to the name. But he is proud of it, he can trace his ancestry to Usurie, he has learned every trick and method of his line and he wields his tools to such effect….

That Thal Modan is now High Lord. Thal Modan, the Rat's very pupil, the man who humbled the Academy and made the world safe for Rats again. Dorian intends to resume his family's legacy at once.

But these ants are standing in the way of that. A Sommerset of refugees, begging for help from men and dwarves, without a land of their own, that is not how Dorian wants to be remembered.

"What do you want me to do?" Thal Modan asks suddenly, the mage has long since parted the room and Thal has been sitting quietly on his throne.

Dorian stands and walks into the light, he wears dark leather armorwithout a helmet, his short and disheveled hair his head's only protection against the elements.. Her rubs his shaved, pointed chin for a moment and says, "We cannot defend this city, Baethor is right."

"Well what then? Evacuate? Do you think Baethor can be trusted, you don't think he's plotting something with Sotha? There will have to be more purges!"

Dorian laughs at the High Lord's frustration, "Thal, it is not the time for purges right now. No, Baethor is right about this, the ants are burrowing underground, we can't defend against that, our walls do not matter to these creatures. But that does not mean we cannot defeat them. Have you ever been to the Honey Farm to the West, with the Braer family? They do their own shipping, most of it goes out to the South, but if you were trying to smuggle relics out of abandoned Summoner King strongholds without the Academy trying to quarantine it, the Honey Farm was an important stop and old man Braer and I made a fortune together."

"My startup capital?" Thal Modan asks.

Dorian the Rat smiles, "Yes.

"But, more importantly Braer taught me a thing or two about the bees, and these insects we have here are nothing, imagine bees their size,"

Thal Modan laughs, awkwardly at first but the simple expression of his old friend breaks down the weeks of tension and fear and allows him to laugh for a moment.

"He lights a fire, smokes out the bees, queen comes back then the rest of them come back after the queen. He had a special place for the queens and he told me that they were the ones who make it all happen, the only female, mother of all of them, they do what she says."

"How does this help with the ants?" Thal Modan asks.

"We shouldn't have waited this long, but we only ever had one choice. Kill the Queen. We cannot defend this city. Can the ants defend theirs?"

"So, you propose an all out offensive in the middle of a siege, we are losing ground out there, we don't have the manpower for that sort of an attack." The High Lord stands shouts, waving his arms in the air.

"Then we shall have to assemble it. Send Sotha into the very mouth of things as well. If he wants his redemption he should have to earn it."

The High Lord nods and sits back down, "As you wish Dorian, as you wish."

?!? I'm looking at the orders right now. the spending is clearly listed and right below the stats. I'm kinda surprised you didn't see it. meh, not a big deal, I'll just spend it again this turn. even bold the section to make sure you don't miss it again.
anyway, story time!
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The dragons of Dragons Arie and their human servants.

Dragons tend to regard humans less as disposable slaves and more as particularly well made and somewhat expensive tool. Humans serving under them are seen as part of their horde, As a means to display their prowess and worthiness to other dragons. Humans that look nice, and seam content and happy to serve the dragon are perceived as being "shinier". As more valuable. As such dragons tend to fuss over the state of their humans. They still expect to served with minimal questioning, but are more then willing to help their humans out with minor matter, like watching the children while the parents work. It is not an uncommon sight to see a dragon telling stories to large group of children while they are lounging in the sun.

Of course, this only applies to dragons with a decent sized horde. Less well off dragons, in size or simply luck, do tend to go for the Quantity over Quality, and do tend to ignore the happiness of their property. These dragons can be cruel and merciless towards their property.


Because of these two styles of ownership, dragon society can be divided into five distinct class in the society.


Greater Dragons: Highest of high, there are the six greater dragons who rule over Dragons Arie. bigger and stronger then the other dragons by and order of magnitude, They rule over the other dragons undisputed. (see Addendum: Greater dragons)


Dragons: The second tier are the well off dragons. Possessing decent sized hordes, they live well, and are relatively content with their situation, having plenty of Meat and magic to feed them, along with many humans to serve and entertain them. The few complaints they do have, they are confident that the greater dragons will deal with them, or at least have their reasons for ignoring them. The represent approximately 90% of the dragon population.


Lesser Dragons: The third tier are the remaining 10% of the dragons, whose hordes are on the smallish side. Often referred to as "Lesser" dragons due to this, they tend to have bad tempers and are always looking for a way to increase their horde and advanced. as such, they are more interested in quantity of their horde then quality, being much easier to acquire, and own over one third of the human population. with so many to look after, most don't even try, and simply use harsh measures to insure obedience.


Servants: The fourth tier are the human servants of the well off dragons. Nicely treated by their owners, they tend to be relativity content. most of them are indifferent to their status as property and some are even honored by it. those who do fell honored tend to be treasured and perceived as more trustworthy, often being placed in positions of importance. A small number do resent and chafe under the idea of being owned.. but rarely act out enough to be considered troublesome and sold off to the lesser dragons.


Slaves: the fifth tier are the Slaves of the lesser dragons. they are treated as slaves clear and simple, and most of them resent their place. A few try and seek to be sold to the well off dragons, but so far, very few try and rebel or act out. those who do tend to get eaten.


Addendum: Greater dragons
While the Greater Dragons are often seen as separate species from the other dragons, in truth, they are not. They are simply very very old. where the normal dragons measure their age in hundreds of years, Greater dragons measure them in thousands. Dragons simply never stop growing in size and power increasing.
Still, this difference in size, power, and age makes all the difference in the minds of the dragons, clearly placing the Greater Dragons above them.

As such, the Greater dragons consider the other dragons to be their property. To be cared for and maintained. To serve them and pay them small tithes to honor them for letting them live within the Greater Dragons territory. Often, Lord Drachy and the others return most of this tithe to the dragons when times are good, as a sign of good faith.

And in a way that might seem alien to the other sentient races, the other dragons do not resent this one bit. To them, this is simply the way things must be. While they would chafe against someone who was nearly their equal and wasn't willing to share power, they have no problem with someone who so greatly outclass them. Who they have no doubt that they would lose spectacularly to.

Tales from the Lands of Winter Fay: Interlude 1: E! News interview


Giuliana Rancic Welcome back to E! News. For those of you just joining us, we’re talking with Alexander Skarsgård and Andreas Wilson who play the royal princes in Immaculate’s Helvan nation for Citana NES with EQCivFanatic. We were on the issue of setting. Alex, you said that for you, filming in northern Sweden gave you a chance to appreciate a beauty you had taken for granted?

Alexander Skarsgård Well,Guiliana, not completely I guess. I mean I’d been into the highlands and seen the mountains and the forests and the moors but seeing them on camera(1), that was different. I really felt that Immaculate did a really excellent job of conjuring a cold, unforgiving landscape that was none-the-less beautiful and majestic

Giuliana Rancic That could almost describe the Vanir themselves. Tell me about these people.

Alexander Skarsgård Well, they are based on Norse myth. Sort of.

Andreas Wilson Its really actually based on this faction in the Dominions 3 video game… well, a series of factions that all share this capacity to hide themselves in an illusionary ‘glamour’ and have a penchant for air magic. They are a tall warrior-like race much like the Vikings and the Helvan have this tie to death, much like one particular race in Dominions called the Helheim.

Giuliana Rancic Explaining why immaculate gave them their name.

Andreas Wilson Right. So they worship this goddess who they know is dead but for them, death isn’t really the finality that it is in many cultures or that it is in our lives. The Helvan king is known as a Hangadrott which means that he has died and has returned and presumably, because this is a great honor and he is much wiser for it, that’s a good thing.

Giuliana Rancic This is actually the father of the characters you both play.

Alexander Skarsgård That’s right. Whats weird is that the actor playing our father is the same age as us because when the character of the king died and returned to the Helvan, he stopped aging. He does have a scar to show for his efforts though- a thick cord of scar tissue around his neck that takes the make-up people about an hour to put together each time. Anyway, this is a scar from the king’s actually pretty gruesome death. He committed suicide by hanging from an ash tree.

Giuliana Rancic Hence why he is called a Hangadrott?

Alexander Skarsgård That’s never really explained but maybe. I don’t know.

Andreas Wilson Getting back to the death theme; another thing is the role of these ‘Desir’ in their culture. These are basically bad-ass witches who disdain the royal court or town living and hang out in gross caves where they do horrible stuff to animals and worship ravens. They are the link for the Helvan to their dead goddess but really they are just these dramatic devices for Immaculate to shock the audience.

Alexander Skarsgård I’m not sure that’s completely true. They have a pretty central role to the story. It was the Dis who uncovered the Barslovian curse after all. Importantly they can commune with the dead and do so fairly regularly, using Vanir blood as a sacrifice to enable this communincation.

Andreas Wilson Fair enough; getting back to the death theme though, there’s also the king’s wife, our character’s mother. We haven’t met her but the writers seem to be saying that she’ll be showing up in some future episodes, not sure if it will be as flashback or some sort of ghost or whatever. Anyway, our character’s mother is dead but she’s still a pretty important character. First off, you have to realize that she was killed by the Desir as a blood sacrifice to their dead goddess on this really auspicious holy day and because of that she’s sort of venerated and a popular hero for a lot of the Helvan people, including the king and our characters. Supposedly my dark looks and lighter build are from her.

Giuliana Rancic Whereas your heavier build and white hair are from the king Alex?

Alexander Skarsgård Yeah, that’s right. I actually had to gain nearly forty pounds of muscle for this role after my last one in True Blood. It took me six months with a dedicated trainer and nutritionist. In a lot of scenes I also wear lifts. Anwyay, yeah the Helvan have this thing with death.

Giuliana Rancic Right. And they have this thing with the wind and with illusions?

Andreas Wilson Yeah, that’s right Jewls.

Giuliana Rancic Please don’t call me that.

Andreas Wilson … Okay...? Anyway, yeah, the Helvan are all inherently skilled in illusion and cover themselves in glamour which is a pretty popular tool in fantasy writing for elves and stuff like that but basically what it means is that its really hard to see them. Immaculate keeps comparing it to looking at snowflakes in moonlight. They twinkle and there’s movement there but there’s no real form or substance to see.

Alexander Skarsgård And the thing is, glamour is tied to royalty and noble lineage so our characters have maybe the strongest glamour in the film outside the king and the new queen.

Andreas Wilson As far as illusion goes, many of the Vanir are inherently skilled in that too but with training they can extend it much further. It’s the same with the air magic and apparently the illusion and air magic are not really separate, though they are different than the death magic. Skilled Vanir sorcerers, and they are usually nobles not Desir witches, can summon freezing gales or strike their targets with lightning or summon spirits of the cold mountain winds or of lightning and thunder.

Giuliana Rancic You mentioned the new queen and that’s sort of the new and exciting thing the audience is talking about but right now its time for a break. When we return we’ll talk about your character’s step mother and your new half-sister. Thanks for watching (2) and hope to see you back after these messages from our sponsor.



(1) actually the reader’s imagination, there is no camera involved in this story
(2) you’re actually reading.

You amuse me greatly good sir.

For everyone else: 48 hour warning.

I will send my orders tomorrow afternoon. I have an exam tomorrow morning (Spain time).

orders submitted. please advise if i did something wrong.

And Barslov: this is to confirm that prince Ulfric will be heading to your capital to start an embassy and to pave the way for limited trade. Please don't take him hostage or kill him.

And EQ: chanks!

This is the 24 hour warningto get those orders in.

Will get my orders finished up in just a little bit.

Timmor stood at the podium, "It has been a trying time for our Academy," he tells the students, "It has been a trying time for Sommerset. But I am proud of us on this day, for even in the darkest hour, we will still produce a graduating class of Mages."

The assembled graduates all nod intently.

"But these are dark times, and your skills are needed. In the past it has been our custom to allow the graduates of our Academy to do whatever they pleased with their hard earned knowledge. But this is not the case today, I am afraid that Baethor has requested that you all accompany him on a mission."

The intent nodding slows to a halt.

"It is dangerous, and many will die. But if there is to be an Academy, a Sommerset, an Alinor tomorrow, then we have no choice. We must end the siege, we must save this city. My Alumni, it has been my honor to be headmaster and to oversee your training, but we must save this land for our accomplishment to survive. It is a dark time, and we require the very best Mages that this Academy has ever produced if we wish to survive. But today I am proud to say that you are just those mages. And so a congratulations to you, graduates of the Academy of Sommerset, now prove your mettle."

Baethor stood at the door, watching things proceed. He is not pleased with the plan, but it has more to do with the source than the plan. It's a bold plan and probably the only hope outside of escape, but Baethor knows full well that it is not Thal Modan's plan.

The Rat, Baethor nearly spits, just like a rat to send others to their death. And Dorian would probably wait down at the docks for the right moment to escape. Just like a rat.

But Baethor knows that he does not live in a time of Mages. He has seen the signs rise and set above him. He knows the era has been granted unto the Rats.

But it seems a cruel joke on those lowborn, un-magicked elves that their era should coincide so suddenly with the arrival of the ants.

The graduates stand and form a line, each taking his diploma from Timmor before proceeding to shake Baethor's hand.

Baethor's smile hides his thoughts, what a dark age to become a magician.

-

Orders sent.

orders tomorrow, but if I don't have time, EQ, you know what i'm working on.

Indeed, your secret plan to build tunnels to all the cities of the world so that you can pop up and consume them.

okay, orders are in.

Hey,

OOC
Ghoststone orders sent.

Blaze Injun

No more order revisions will be accepted beyond this point. I will still accept new orders from any stragglers though.

Orders have already been sent in.

The gate is barred shut, and for the moment the invading warriors have been beaten back, the Silent follow Baethor to the gate, prepared to meet their fate with the Court Mage. The army has assembled, Dorian and Thal Modan at least made good on their promise to throw the full support of Sommerset behind this effort.

Baethor heads to the front of the armies, this is his mission and he has taken full control of it. He watches the awkward new recruits in their guard uniforms, the Alumni looking down at the awkward lines of recruits.

At the gate, the Silent begin to hum and Baethor opens his mouth, speaking in the voices.

"Elves of Sommerset, even the Silent have come today, even the traitors and prisoners of Alinor have come to fight for their land. To any who are afraid or who ask why they should join in arms see this example."

The crowd shifts and their gazes move about as they try to fathom the massive chorus of voices emanating from Baethor's throat, speaking as one. Some stumble back, afraid of this development, but as they hear the words they are enraptured.

"Sommerset is a land of Free Elves, and it is hard won. It is not often these days that we remember where we come from, but I ask you to do so now, before our greatest battle as a source of inspiration. There was a time when there were no Free Elves on the isle, when we were all serfs to the Summoner Kings. Those of us with magic had no Academy to train in, and like our brother Elves of Sommerset we would have been nothing more but test subjects for the Summoner Kings to experiment on as they pleased. We would work in mines without pay, we would till fields without being permitted to eat. The Summoner Kings said that we needed them, that was why we gave these things freely. If something should happen, if ant creatures were to rise up and threaten our homes we would have no defenses without a Summoner King.

"But, they also told us that we could never win our freedom from their bonds. But it was the lowborn who showed us the way, it was not Elves of Magic who overcame these problems. It was Lowborn Elves, Arroth the Rat himself who forced the negotiations, the creation of the Free Lands of Sommerset where Elves could live without Summoner Kings. This city has not been built by great heroes, but by Elves who were told that they were fit for nothing but experimentation, it will not be saved by great heroes. It will be saved by the Free Elves acting together. Too many of our ancestors have bled and too much has been accomplished for us to lose it all here. We will ride on the Hive and we will break this freakish army and the Free Land of Elves will survive so that our children and grandchildren may mark this day as a celebration."

The army is beginning to reorder themselves, the lines are coming in neater, the trick of the Many Voices and their hypnotic allure is no small part of it, but the army seems proud and prepared.

The Silent lift the bar on the gate and swing it open, the Ithor are nowhere to be seen, likely burrowed into shallow recesses in the soil, having recently been beaten back from the streets. But the Ithor are not Baethor's target today.

Baethor looks to the treeline and utters another old familiar spell.

And the Fire begins to spread along the branches, building up slowly and steadily as Baethor repeats his incantation.

And at once it all bursts together into a pale orange rage, if the ants survive it then they will be forced to retreat for a moment.

"We shall follow the flames to our destination."