Gem Hound
Deity
@Terrance how many gods/goddesses does this "faith" have?
TerraNES: The Civil Experiment
- Thread starter Terrance888
- Start date
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
A Detailed Summary of the Faith: Post Sarkovite Wars
The Belief would be more similar to this, although it has less info overall and it would also have evolved over time.
Summary of the Faith: Original
The Belief would be more similar to this, although it has less info overall and it would also have evolved over time.
Summary of the Faith: Original
Gem Hound
Deity
To Ostava
To All:
Those who are morally strong follow their own beliefs and not what another tells them to. I am sure that your gods have power too. Deities have power where they are worshiped. There are many truths and many lies. To say that one is true and the other is not without concrete evidence is to be a hypocrite. To state that a much older religion then your own is false, you need solid proof to disprove it other than "They have a false religion because I don't believe in it!". Now that that is aside, we can stop talking philosophy and get back to talking either joining or of a close alliance against true barbarians.
King Cernyd the First of Osismied
To Some:
I agree to this. Do not disappoint us.
To All:
Those who are morally strong follow their own beliefs and not what another tells them to. I am sure that your gods have power too. Deities have power where they are worshiped. There are many truths and many lies. To say that one is true and the other is not without concrete evidence is to be a hypocrite. To state that a much older religion then your own is false, you need solid proof to disprove it other than "They have a false religion because I don't believe in it!". Now that that is aside, we can stop talking philosophy and get back to talking either joining or of a close alliance against true barbarians.
King Cernyd the First of Osismied
To Some:
I agree to this. Do not disappoint us.
Tycho
AFK Forum Warrior
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Iron Lances
And so it was, in the seventh year of King Sirius III's reign in the lands of Vahlshallah that the people of the nation looked out upon the world and wondered; "Why are we here? Did the gods not answer our prayers? What did we do wrong when we were forced on the defensive to the south?"
Many men and women died on the march north, the brutal march that laid to waste so much. The Faith was the only glue that kept the people together as the marched north, the brutal winters as they laid waste to stores of food, and the hot summers as the hordes tramped north away from a smoking homeland... Sarkov had fallen, and the Faith had kept people bound together, but only because the nomadic lifestyle bound them together and made them more interested in keeping everything else up and working, and going without thinking about why the gods might have let them down.
It was only when the people came to their new lands and their cities and towns and as they slowly expanded that they thought... why did we have to leave? Why did we have to abandon the homeland of our forefathers that had tilled the soil and raised cities of magnificence...
Some people, unlike before, blamed themselves for believing in false hope with the gods. The stereotypical excuse of it being the fault of the Toras-North men, and the Apulians, Ligurians, and the Ctyrians, was abandoned by large fractions of the populace. They instead looked inwards, and the Grey Faith and the more militant Faith splinters started to decline in membership over time...
But then came the Iron Prophet.
Calling himself Rakavian Zorasmaskta, the Iron Prophet was a hard man who founded the order of the Iron Lances. Before the creation of the Iron Lances, the predominate Faith militant groups were contained within the Royal Guard as well as the Faith militias. That changed with the creation of the Iron Lances.
Claiming the Songbird as the patron god of the Iron Lances, the Iron Prophet decreed that the day would come in the future when the mettle of the nation would be tested by outside forces, in both a strike against the Faith and it's people, and a strikeback that would involve...
With those words, the galvanizing Faith of a nation was revitalized, and the Order of the Iron Lances was created.
Their goal?
As they called it, "The Reclamation".
No one knows what that is yet... but when they do know... the world will shatter.
-Savarus Racchus
Head Scribe of the Violet Faith
And so it was, in the seventh year of King Sirius III's reign in the lands of Vahlshallah that the people of the nation looked out upon the world and wondered; "Why are we here? Did the gods not answer our prayers? What did we do wrong when we were forced on the defensive to the south?"
Many men and women died on the march north, the brutal march that laid to waste so much. The Faith was the only glue that kept the people together as the marched north, the brutal winters as they laid waste to stores of food, and the hot summers as the hordes tramped north away from a smoking homeland... Sarkov had fallen, and the Faith had kept people bound together, but only because the nomadic lifestyle bound them together and made them more interested in keeping everything else up and working, and going without thinking about why the gods might have let them down.
It was only when the people came to their new lands and their cities and towns and as they slowly expanded that they thought... why did we have to leave? Why did we have to abandon the homeland of our forefathers that had tilled the soil and raised cities of magnificence...
Some people, unlike before, blamed themselves for believing in false hope with the gods. The stereotypical excuse of it being the fault of the Toras-North men, and the Apulians, Ligurians, and the Ctyrians, was abandoned by large fractions of the populace. They instead looked inwards, and the Grey Faith and the more militant Faith splinters started to decline in membership over time...
But then came the Iron Prophet.
Calling himself Rakavian Zorasmaskta, the Iron Prophet was a hard man who founded the order of the Iron Lances. Before the creation of the Iron Lances, the predominate Faith militant groups were contained within the Royal Guard as well as the Faith militias. That changed with the creation of the Iron Lances.
Claiming the Songbird as the patron god of the Iron Lances, the Iron Prophet decreed that the day would come in the future when the mettle of the nation would be tested by outside forces, in both a strike against the Faith and it's people, and a strikeback that would involve...
With those words, the galvanizing Faith of a nation was revitalized, and the Order of the Iron Lances was created.
Their goal?
As they called it, "The Reclamation".
No one knows what that is yet... but when they do know... the world will shatter.
-Savarus Racchus
Head Scribe of the Violet Faith
Eltain
Deity
ohh my goddd i hate you so much right now tycchho leave me alooooooone
GOSH
GOSH
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
It is these moments where the boundaries between our universe and theirs weaken, that I know that I have succeeded in providing an environment where my players can flourish.
Tycho
AFK Forum Warrior
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What's wrong Eltain? We are just interested in peace for the next 2600 years.
How are you feeling threatened anyways?
Eltain
Deity
That, good sir, is how.
Gem Hound
Deity
@Terrance: Your inbox is full again!
Tycho
AFK Forum Warrior
- Joined
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I'll be quite happy to build up the German based nation that I am in right now, and something like that will most likely never happen. Prophecies after all.
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
Yes, so it is. *sigh*
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
It is now fixed.
Eltain
Deity
The bi-yearly meeting of the Rumen Council at Ctesiphod had gone well. Very, very well.
A survey had been conducted the previous year, requesting input on the ramifications of the walls constructed at Epirus and Corsca. Some said they were unnecessary and very high expenses, as the Republic had friendly relations with all her neighbors, while others praised the Rumen as the defenders of their people. One city, however, had noted that while it was one of the oldest of the Republic, it had no walls, no Shipyards, no nothing. Well laid-out plans were sent as a request by the Apulian Rumen Philip Caveat (A Makedonian gentleman) for a grand Harbour rivalling and indeed surpassing that of the Sardicans, but initially it was rejected by the Rumen Council Meeting. Philip Caveat, a determined loyalist of Apulia and a four-time Rumen to boot, prepared the following to attempt to sway the Rumenholds.
"Imagine, if you will, that you are a poor Greek immigrant. Now, the Cities of Greece were once booming metropolises, cowing in poor farmers from Koyulun with a promise of freedom. They have become decayed, old, unkempt. Corrupt. Even now, they fight eachother for supremacy- the warrior-Kings of Sparta on one side, the Oligarchies of Thlorynites on the other.
"You flee the Kingdoms of Greece to the place where the ideals your people once held, long ago, are powerful indeed. You spend your life's savings (a few chickens, your land, your grain seed) to board a dank, crowded curragh in Cornith or even Thebes, in-between the sieges. The voyage takes a week, but finally land is spotted. You go above deck, and in the distance you see the massive figure of the Republic embodied, the Collosus of Cytria, and the massive harbour academy and the endless docks spreading outward beneath him, while behind him on the green, shining hills of Apulia the city sparkles in the sun, the waves crashing rhythmically, as if saying Home! Home! Home! Home!
"The other passengers start cheering, and you join in, the gooseflesh on your neck tickling as you begin to tear up from happiness. You've finally escaped the war in Greece, and you can start anew here. Maybe as an apprentice, maybe a farmer, maybe even join the navy and learn at the majestic Harbour Academy and see the Collosus every day.
"That, ladies and gentleman, is what I want for Apulia. For the Rumenholds. For the Republic!
Like I said, the meeting had gone very, very well.
A survey had been conducted the previous year, requesting input on the ramifications of the walls constructed at Epirus and Corsca. Some said they were unnecessary and very high expenses, as the Republic had friendly relations with all her neighbors, while others praised the Rumen as the defenders of their people. One city, however, had noted that while it was one of the oldest of the Republic, it had no walls, no Shipyards, no nothing. Well laid-out plans were sent as a request by the Apulian Rumen Philip Caveat (A Makedonian gentleman) for a grand Harbour rivalling and indeed surpassing that of the Sardicans, but initially it was rejected by the Rumen Council Meeting. Philip Caveat, a determined loyalist of Apulia and a four-time Rumen to boot, prepared the following to attempt to sway the Rumenholds.
"Imagine, if you will, that you are a poor Greek immigrant. Now, the Cities of Greece were once booming metropolises, cowing in poor farmers from Koyulun with a promise of freedom. They have become decayed, old, unkempt. Corrupt. Even now, they fight eachother for supremacy- the warrior-Kings of Sparta on one side, the Oligarchies of Thlorynites on the other.
"You flee the Kingdoms of Greece to the place where the ideals your people once held, long ago, are powerful indeed. You spend your life's savings (a few chickens, your land, your grain seed) to board a dank, crowded curragh in Cornith or even Thebes, in-between the sieges. The voyage takes a week, but finally land is spotted. You go above deck, and in the distance you see the massive figure of the Republic embodied, the Collosus of Cytria, and the massive harbour academy and the endless docks spreading outward beneath him, while behind him on the green, shining hills of Apulia the city sparkles in the sun, the waves crashing rhythmically, as if saying Home! Home! Home! Home!
"The other passengers start cheering, and you join in, the gooseflesh on your neck tickling as you begin to tear up from happiness. You've finally escaped the war in Greece, and you can start anew here. Maybe as an apprentice, maybe a farmer, maybe even join the navy and learn at the majestic Harbour Academy and see the Collosus every day.
"That, ladies and gentleman, is what I want for Apulia. For the Rumenholds. For the Republic!
Like I said, the meeting had gone very, very well.
Boundless
Deity
Fantastic Update as ever Terrance!
Do I have contact with any of the Egyptian city states?
Which nation do I share Crete with? Is it a NPC or a player?
Do I have contact with any of the Egyptian city states?
Which nation do I share Crete with? Is it a NPC or a player?
Eltain
Deity
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
Thanks Eltain. It is indeed, Toras-Noth.
Moldath plays that nation.
Anyway, you have contact with Damietta and Lower Egypt (Anor, Avaris), and knowledge, but not easy contact, down the nile to about Nubia. Damietta is pretty laid back at your attempt at colonization because they used those supplies to build themselves into a power (NPC Goal- protect the Delta Monopoly for the project), and paid for any losses your merchants took.
Anor and Avaris are allied against Damietta.
Moldath plays that nation.
Anyway, you have contact with Damietta and Lower Egypt (Anor, Avaris), and knowledge, but not easy contact, down the nile to about Nubia. Damietta is pretty laid back at your attempt at colonization because they used those supplies to build themselves into a power (NPC Goal- protect the Delta Monopoly for the project), and paid for any losses your merchants took.
Anor and Avaris are allied against Damietta.
Boundless
Deity
Thank you both.
Eltain
Deity
Oh snap, Terrance, this is the turn we shall get game awards, yes? I am le excite.
Tycho
AFK Forum Warrior
- Joined
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- 3,240
Remeniscing
The Iron Prophet spread his wings, and took upon him all those things, cast himself into the sky, going to the soon to die, the Iron Prophet shook his head, and brought before him all the dead, the Iron Prophet pointed out, that which would be their holy route. The Iron Prophet stood right tall, as the enemies began to fall. The Iron Prophet gave the command, and once right more blood stained the sand. Although some would look askance, the Iron Prophet brought forth his lance. The Iron Prophet strode right forth, till the other seemed a dwarf. Taking up his lance in hand, all stood by for the command. Bloody Omar met his death, Bloody Kraler met his rest. The Iron Prophet spoke his words, wings flapping from the other birds. The Iron Prophet went back to sky, to pray for those who shall soon die.
Contrary to what many people would believe, the Iron Prophet was not a man of thick body or powerful agility. Indeed, he was quite thin and gangly, made up mostly of sinew and bone, but he could wield a spear or sword like any other man in the world that did the same. He wasn't defenseless, he was a killing machine.
How odd it was then that a killing machine sat by the pond in the seat of power for the nation of Vahlshallah, and meditated in peace as the lilies swirled and dipped about in the water. He smiled, his eyes closed, as he thought back to better times, when the world may have been a better place... his grandfather, dear old grandfather, had been the last of them that had truly seen the fabled lost lands of Valyria, which had been green and lovely before consumed by the fires of old. Maybe, if the lands to the south had not burned to ash, the Iron Prophet would have been a commander in the military, or a powerful orator of the Faith, as they spread their doctrine far and wide.
Opening his eyes to watch the lilies twirl about on the surface of the water, the Iron Prophet knew only peace. Maybe one day, their would be a war raged in the name of a prophecy that he had set forth, as told to him by the airy whispers of the gods that breached his head sometimes. He was a sane man, had always been so, but he had listened when they told him to go to the Faith, become a powerful leader, and a powerful man that would inspire thousands.
Looking down into the water, he wondered what the future would hold and bring... blood and death was all he could think of, riding from the east, smashing through the west, sailing to the north, and marching to the south.
Peace would never truly exist, he thought sadly. But that is the price to pay for one's humanity.
The Iron Prophet spread his wings, and took upon him all those things, cast himself into the sky, going to the soon to die, the Iron Prophet shook his head, and brought before him all the dead, the Iron Prophet pointed out, that which would be their holy route. The Iron Prophet stood right tall, as the enemies began to fall. The Iron Prophet gave the command, and once right more blood stained the sand. Although some would look askance, the Iron Prophet brought forth his lance. The Iron Prophet strode right forth, till the other seemed a dwarf. Taking up his lance in hand, all stood by for the command. Bloody Omar met his death, Bloody Kraler met his rest. The Iron Prophet spoke his words, wings flapping from the other birds. The Iron Prophet went back to sky, to pray for those who shall soon die.
Contrary to what many people would believe, the Iron Prophet was not a man of thick body or powerful agility. Indeed, he was quite thin and gangly, made up mostly of sinew and bone, but he could wield a spear or sword like any other man in the world that did the same. He wasn't defenseless, he was a killing machine.
How odd it was then that a killing machine sat by the pond in the seat of power for the nation of Vahlshallah, and meditated in peace as the lilies swirled and dipped about in the water. He smiled, his eyes closed, as he thought back to better times, when the world may have been a better place... his grandfather, dear old grandfather, had been the last of them that had truly seen the fabled lost lands of Valyria, which had been green and lovely before consumed by the fires of old. Maybe, if the lands to the south had not burned to ash, the Iron Prophet would have been a commander in the military, or a powerful orator of the Faith, as they spread their doctrine far and wide.
Opening his eyes to watch the lilies twirl about on the surface of the water, the Iron Prophet knew only peace. Maybe one day, their would be a war raged in the name of a prophecy that he had set forth, as told to him by the airy whispers of the gods that breached his head sometimes. He was a sane man, had always been so, but he had listened when they told him to go to the Faith, become a powerful leader, and a powerful man that would inspire thousands.
Looking down into the water, he wondered what the future would hold and bring... blood and death was all he could think of, riding from the east, smashing through the west, sailing to the north, and marching to the south.
Peace would never truly exist, he thought sadly. But that is the price to pay for one's humanity.
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
Orders due tomorrow. I will try to start updating after finishing some Pre-final testing.
If you're lazy and unmotivated, or blandly normal, of course you can send it in by the deadline at Saturday.
If you're lazy and unmotivated, or blandly normal, of course you can send it in by the deadline at Saturday.
