Legends of Citana: The First Era

thought Man covered it. but might be some dispute. meh. adding and alltering.

Greater dragon
Combat:40 %
Magecraft: 40%
Charisma: 20%
Stealth: -1% (0% for purpose of total)

big, powerfull, and impresive.. but lacking any subtuily what so ever.
 
Civilization Name: Sommerset
Dominant Race: Elves
Leader Name: Thal Paron
Leader Trait: Mercantile
Leader Background: Thal Paron bought his way into the court of the former High Lord of Sommerset and through crafty positioning took their position. Not that I'm saying the former High Lord was poisoned, the body wasn't found, we don't know. In fact, the current High Lord has closed the investigation. Why are you asking so many questions?
Starting Location: South-Eastern most island thing.
Preferred Map Color: Don't care
Preferred Leader Names: Thal, Nerav, Uruth, Terrai, Gnisis
Preferred City Names: Alinor, Cloudrest, Shimmerene, Firsthold
Background: The Elves of Sommerset have an ancient and proud tradition. Xenophobic and closely tied to their ancestor worship, renouncing all faiths of foreign land, the people of Sommerset are proud and somewhat primitive, relying on their regional magelords to deal with their problems under the guidance of the High Lord. Thal Paron has proven to be a competent manager and has gained the trust of the people, although members of his court and other nobles are still worried about the possibility that he murdered his predecessor.
 
The Wake of David, Champion of Yevah

The death of David, the man who had been chosen Champion of Yevah several years ago, reached Zinar very soon. One of the amulets David had been given was one that made sure to check on him, so that the priests could know about his health. They had lately been worried, because they had noticed that David was getting weaker as he advanced, due to hunger, thirst and tiredness. They knew he was on the desert, and probably nearing the fabled Eastern Pass - they could also locate him, but it was not as good of a charm as the other one - so it made sense that it happened, but it was still worrying.

One day, one of the priests that had been tasked to watching David's health noticed that, all of a sudden, several injuries of different capacity had appeared all of a sudden. It also said that David was about to faint from the combination of injuries and tiredness. If they did not do something fast, David would probably die.

He ran for someone, and found a novice, whom he told to find other priests and send them to the Heroes' Room, so that they could try to bring him back. It was a finicky charm, the one he wanted to use, as so far it had been used to bring someone back from, at most, a few kilometres, but the long distance between David and Zinar - easily several hundreds of kilometres - made it nearly impossible to do it well, fast and just by one priest.

He nonetheless put himself to task, using the Spoken Word to start calling on Magic to help him bring David back. It was an arduous task, because every word had to be measured if the task was to succeed. A few moments later, he heard several priests joining him in chanting, and using the Spoken Word, adding their strength to his, so that it became likelier.

However, as they kept using the Spoken Word, they noticed that David was vanishing, that his injuries were becoming bigger and, even worse, even more injuries were appearing in his body. The priests kept working, concentrating only in David and their wish to have him back, because he was hanging to life by a thread, and that thread could break at any moment.

Finally, after much time, they managed to summon enough magic to bring the Champion back. However, when he finally arrived, the only thing the priests heard was David give his last breath, and then fall silent. They tried to revive him, but it was impossible. David had died, but at least he had not been left somewhere where vermin and wild animals could attack his body.

His burial was probably one that rivalled with the funerals of the Judah in attendance. Women cried for the death of their hero, soldiers hit their shields with their swords, men held a silent vigil for him... the news had been absolutely devastating for them.

After a procession in which the body of David was taken through the biggest streets of Zinar and near the house where he had been born and grown up - his parents cried there over his body, while the other people supported them with their presence and their silence.

In the end, David was buried near the bridge that had been named after him, and a small monument was built to him, to remind people of how he had given his life so that the people of Yevah could face a new day without having to fear for monsters. The monument would, in the future, be the inspiration for other heroes, other Champions, to rise for the greatness of Yevah!
 
Doesn't time fly? This is the 24 hour warning for orders. Those just joining us do not need to get in orders for their first update.
 
Orders will come within a hour or so.
 
Same here, I was having some problems earlier and could not make up good orders.
 
And it was custom at the Marble Throne the elves of Sommerset brought their problems before the High Lord, but in truth only few ever convinced the guards of Alinor to grant them an audience.

And the Hall of the Forebears was empty this day, save the High Lord and his Court Mage.

The High Lord sighs, continues pacing.

The Mage looks expectant, his brows furrow and his cheeks twitch.

"How do I know you aren't working with them?" Thal Modan asks his Mage, "Trying to shake me down?"

"I assure you, High Lord, my loyalty is to Sommerset, I have only received their demands from a colleague at the Academy."

The High Lord paces, "I can't set this precedent. Can you imagine what disasters that sort of shift would cause? Imagine those lunatics down at the Academy running things? Spending all the treasure to perform wild experiments, bankrupting the land, ignoring the state of the nation, it wouldn't work."

"The demands do not come from the Academy, sir."

"No, it comes from a small camp of conjurers, and may I ask you, where do you think they received their training?"

"There are some wild mages, they could have trained these men."

"So you propose that all the wild mages of the Isle have joined together and trained as conjurers, and now they are holding my city hostage to a threatened army of demons."

"Indeed, sir, and they have trained new members in the practice."

"Have you seen my telescope, Baethor? A Mage should be able to understand the signs of the sky, do you know how to find the High Sign out of the stars?"

"Yes, sir, I know these things."

"Perhaps then, you will recognize it."

And the mage puts his eyes to the telescope, turns and tilts it before he realizes that it had been pointed properly at first, Baethor brings the stars into focus.

"It's the sign of the traitor," the High Lord tells his mage.

The Mage jumps back, "I have told you already where my loyalty lies!"

The High Lord shakes his head, "I know the truth of your spirit, which is why you will be spared," he hands the mage a note, "It was intercepted outside their camp by my guards, I've known about this little problem for some time."

The Court Mage shakes his head as he reads the note, "But, this is signed by the Headmaster of the Academy!"

"Indeed it is. But it is incidental, I've known of their camp for weeks, my guards and soldiers keep me well informed. I knew that there were too many of them to have come from the wild. I am quite glad that you have arrived to play the messenger for I require you to bring a message to the Headmaster."

"What do you mean, sir," and in the presence of his High Lord: Thal Modan, the Listener of Secrets, the Walker of Paths unseen, this poor mage shivers and worries, anything could go wrong at this moment, even the slightest wrong could now re-emerge and bring his life to a sudden halt, but the High Lord keeps pacing.

The High Lord pulls a bag out of his desk, soaked through and dripping, droplets flecking across the throne room as the High Lord hands the stinking, wretched sack to the mage.

"The conjurers are alive, we cauterized the wounds. They are in the Dungeon and one day perhaps they will go free. But they will never cast a spell again."

Baethor opens the bag, staring at the human tongues that fill it. He chokes back vomit.

The High Lord is not moved, "I find that I am missing one from my collection, if you are loyal to Sommerset then bring me the tongue of a Headmaster."
 
Some had commented that it not longer looked like a turtle. More like a water bug, what with oars poking out like legs. But Chief Quilla had already made up his mind and they would keep the name Wooden Turtle, although he mentally filed away the name water bug for later. Of course, the first ship had his name. And it already had its first ‘quest’.

The feral seals weren’t a problem. The orcas and giant squid were dealt with to a certain degree by city guards. However, there were two creatures that needed to be dealt with.

The first were the Kracken. They looked like distant cousins of the squid or octopus but were in their own way far more hellish. What’s more they could drag themselves on to not-water to terrorise the populace there. In a dozen or so Kracken attacks, the city guard had managed to kill a grand total of one. The rest had been driven off, not before a lot of the city had been damaged.

Then there was the Leviathan. It has only attacked once, in the closing weeks of the 14th year of the Camachu [1], but it nearly wiped out the water district. The piscans give thanks to Her, as it seems that it cannot enter shallow water, such as the tidal district, let alone not-water. Nobody can quite agree what it is like. Some say it is like a whale, others say a shark or a ray. Whatever it is, it has a lot of teeth and it is big. And its scream drives fear into the heart of all piscans. Although it has only attacked once, guards have reported seeing it swimming in the distance.

So Chief Quilla has sent the turtles to find the lairs of these creatures, so they may be stopped at some time in the future. If they come across other interesting things, more the better for the empire…

[1] The basic Quillaachu calendar, starting from when Quilla took the throne. Literally means realm of the sun.
 
No more order revisions will be accepted beyond this point, though I will still accept any orders from players who are allowed to send them in (i.e., not just joining us this turn).
 
News from the Nations of Citana​

Angeld
Spoiler :

The dwarves of Angeld in this period of history continued to expand their domestic control and their cities to greater levels. A major part of this was mass migration from Deepdown Hold to Wetfeet Hold, as hundreds of thousands of dwarves moved down river to the newest stronghold of their people. The new settlement has been doing fairly well off the growing population, with fishing and prospecting for gold taking place along the river banks. Furthermore, a growing amount of barges have begun plying the river waters between the two cities, as trade grows to new heights between the two settlements. Wetfeet Hold has begun to gain some significant influence, as minerals were found in the local hills and a small scale mining operation began.

Tragedy occurred in this part of the First Era with the death of Elder Arbash and the election of a new Elder to lead the dwarves of Angeld. Due to his death at a fairly young age for dwarves, many were shocked and saddened by his demise, and some suspicions of foul play have emerged among the lower classes. On the other hand, Arbash's dalliances with the fairer sex have been known for a long time, leading to suspicion of a murder due to a woman scorned. His son Seernon has assumed the mantle of Elder, and with his firm head for finances, it is hoped that he will be a fitting leader for the dwarven people.

Mysterious happenings began occurring in the woods to the south of Deepdown Hold. Scouts began encountering massive beings , like dwarves but much taller, and most contact has been avoided. Towards the end of the period, the sightings have become much fewer, as dwarves tend to leave gifts of minerals and gold to these beings. Despite the end of sightings, the money and minerals have been collected, assumed to be by these beings.

Elder's Challenge: Some of our people have begun calling for an expedition to the south to find out what these creatures are that we have offered such tribute. Others are concerned that these may be agents of the Titans or some other divine beings and that contacting them may only lead to disaster. How do we respond?


Barakdwell
Spoiler :

The Ayar of Barakdwell and the humans in the village surrounding the temple had a fairly quiet few years, as Greyview slowly expanded and developed. The people of Barakdwell have continued their efforts to trade with the Yevah Nomads at their regular camping grounds just north of the Talos Mountains. The Ayar continue to regularly fly and sell mineral supplies in exchange for hard currency in the form of gold coins and nuggets. The only other events of any note was a rising debate among the Ayar about the rising number of humans displaying innate magical talents. Arguments were had over whether or not to allow humans to participate in the monastery, and ultimately, it was determined that they should be admitted, but that access to the monastery would be considerably more difficult as well as advancement through the castes. (-5% Loyalty, +100 Mana)


Barslov
Spoiler :

The Empire of Barslov brought continued through a particularly dark era, as the symbol of this portion of Emperor Vral's rule has been the construction of a road from Shadowhold to Satara. The road is said to be paved with the bones and blood of thousands of workers and guards who fought to build it. Thousands of laborers were set to the task, braving bandit and animal attacks to manage the feat, and the brutal hours and working conditions led to the deaths of thousands from Shadowhold. The outbreak of the curse continues to worsen, and did so even among the workers, and many workers simply vanished, whether victims of the curse, or victims of the victims of the curse may never be known. Regardless, the road was eventually completed, and trade and travel has been greatly eased between the two cities, allowing Shadowhold to gain a bit more profit from their new connection. (-9,000 Population, -200 City Guards, -5% Loyalty)

The biggest concern throughout this period of the First Era has been the proliferation of a horrific curse among the blood of Barslov's people. The curse first came to light after a series of gruesome murders, which left men ravaged as though killed by animals in the very streets and markets of Shadowhold. Eventually it was believed that the culprit was caught, as an officer of the city guard was discovered sleeping in the blood of his mutilated wife. The man's family, highly influential, managed to prevent his execution, and he was allowed comfortable living quarters in the Imperial Prison for a substantial bribe from the family. That very night, the man transformed in full view of the warden, into a horrific beast, as if a wolf walked upon two legs. The monster rampaged through the prison, killing both guards and inmates, until eventually, after taking many wounds which immobilized it, it collapsed. Afterwards, it nearly killed a dozen more guards as the body was dismembered, eliminating the threat. (+100 Gold)

Unfortunately, what many call the curse of the beast continues to spread through Shadowhold's population. The officer was not the sole culprit behind the string of murders which occurred, and they have mounted in horrific fashion throughout these five years. Over a thousand lay dead, and every night the sound of howling in the streets continues to grow. As soon as the sun sets, those afflicted begin marauding through the streets and the nearby woods, and it's believed that tens of thousands of people could be effected. It has been determined that a mere scratch from the beasts are enough to spread the curse, assuming you survive the rest of the encounter. The curse clearly takes over a year to manifest itself, but once it does, the setting of the sun will trigger the new form every evening. People have begun to struggle to find cures and ways to stop the curse, but all seems for naught, and a few have simply fled to the woods to avoid being killed during the daylight hours. Regardless, at night, the streets of Shadowhold are ruled by wolfmen, relentlessly stalking the streets for prey. (-1,000 Population)

Emperor's Challenge: Clearly the curse has erupted throughout our lands, and we are quickly losing control of the people and city. Thousands of our people are afflicted by the curse, and during the day may appear as normal as anyone else. Our guards are too terrified to patrol at night, and we must do something to regain control.


Dragon's Arie
Spoiler :

As the Smaller races grew in power, the dragons knew fear. Most started to withdraw from the lands claimed by the rising civilizations. Some stood, fought, and died. One, The Great Lord Drachy, realized they needed to change their ways in order to survive. He gathered what dragons he could persuade, and fled north, to a place where civilization had yet to take hold, a place where he would forge his own civilization. A civilization that would not hunt his kind, but serve them. It was here he would have Dragons Arie built. The few humans that lived there were easy to subdue and awe, and quickly put to work. More would be kidnapped from uncivilized tribes far away, to boost the work force. The most devoted were elevated above their brethren, to manage the day to day affairs, leaving just the major stuff for the dragons to deal with.

Great Lord Drachy's Challenge: Our dragons are having to fly further and further away to find humans for slaves, but we have located two major settlements with many outlying homesteads on the edges of the Harar. One appears to be a group of elves, and another of men. We only have enough to focus upon one group or another. Which should we focus upon?


Ghoststone
Spoiler :

This particular period of the First Era proved to be fairly eventful for the elves of Ghoststone as a particularly decadent culture began to establish itself. Key among this was the establishment of the Red House, a fortified school of magic with great spires dominating the rest of the city. At the center was the shard which has granted the ghost elves their uniqueness among the elven races, and growing magical aptitude. The Red House has become the center of the city, with an aura of magical properties hovering about, and has become a focus of life. It is widely accepted that no other institution exists in all of Citana which could rival Ghoststone in its education of the arts of the arcane.

The main part of Ghoststone's culture which emerged in this period was the Festival of Ghosts, a three day celebration of life and society. This has been primarily featuring great orgies and other acts of debauchery, as the elves enjoy life to the fullest. The government insists on this as a way to further mingle the blood of those powerful with magic to those less powerful. The hope is that with increased "fertility" will come a larger amount of people gifted with magical talents. Overall, the policy as proven fairly popular, as a three-day sex infused festival has been rarely turned down by any civilization.

Amid the celebrations of this part of the First Era, the Magian Unjul Flynajoon surfaced once again, helping encourage the establishment of the new order of mages, the Dusti Illustia. A group of mages dedicated towards illusions, particularly in increasing sex appeal and good looks for the upper crusts of society. They have proven a particularly lucrative department of the new Red House. The establishment of this order was simply the first in Flynajoon's latest accomplishments, as he has established a name for himself among society, becoming a fairly unorthodox hero of Ghoststone. Most noted was in the fifth Festival of Ghosts, in which he conjured thirty spectral, yet completely solid where it counted, women in a fine display of decadence. When the portion of the festival came under attack by renegade monsters let free after a disastrous other event, the women suddenly were gifted with arms and armor and made short work of the attackers, disappearing as quickly as they were conjured. Flynajoon was heralded as a hero of the festival, and since then of the Ghost Elves.

Emperor's Challenge: A minority of our people are concerned about the implications and morals of the Festival of Ghosts. They are preparing to leave our society for other lands should the decadent festival continue to wreck havoc upon our civilization. How do we respond?


Great Hive
Spoiler :

The Great Hive began an enormous undertaking in this period of the First Era, beginning the complete transformation of the Ithor's central island into a single massive hive structure. Thousands of kilometers of tunnel and paths are being built below the surface, dug in the traditional manner, as well as fortified with unique Ithor architecture out of minerals and lumber harvested from the surface. The Project is likely to take decades, maybe even centuries, but will use the heat of the island's volcano for forges and countless and other purposes. This has come on the heels of the birth of three new princesses who are being groomed to assume the mantle of queen at some point in the future. Their birth neatly coincides with a growing new period of history for the Ithor Great Hive.


Helvan
Spoiler :

The Vanir were created by a titaness who fell before the cataclysm, and now serves as a dead goddess to which the Helvan turn in worship. They are led by a king, Hermóðr, who, in a younger age, was once dead, hung from an ash tree. He has returned to the Helvan after receiving the blessings of the dead goddess and assumed the silver crown from his father who understood that he was Hangadrott, chosen from the dead to lead the living. Under his guidance the Helheim have spread their influence, and his many children serve as nobles and Jarls, commanding villages, ships and armies.

The Helvan have domesticated a breed of magical fey horses who, like the Vanir, hide themselves innately in glamour and leave no hoofprint in the wake of their passing. It is said that the Vanjarls, the greatest of the Vanir nobles-warriors, are the greatest cavalry force the Citana have yet to see.

The Desir continue to provide their support and guidance and it is prophetized that from their ranks will rise an army of sacred female warriors who will ride the wings of the wind and strike with the fury of lightning and thunder.

King's Challenge: A number of our scouts to the south have come under attack by strange monsters from the woods. Tall and on two legs, they still run and look like wolves. They have proven unkillable by any normal means, and ones which we thought were slain have not been. Worse yet, there have even begun to be attacks in our capital. How do we respond?


Magical Kingdom of Zeal
Spoiler :

The Magical Kingdom of Zeal's experiences during this period of time were focused mostly upon the threats provided by the eruption of giant worms from the soil. They have frequently undermined the foundations of the kingdom, in a quite literal fashion. Buildings have fallen into the earth, while the magic users of the kingdom began to develop ways to combat them. The cornerstone of the new policies was the establishment of the new geomancers. The geomancers focus upon the manipulation of the earth and its inherent magics to increase their power and combat their enemies. This has proven incredibly effective against the worms, as the geomancers have frequently just used their powers to constrict and collapse the earth upon the worms themselves. Overall, the small cadre of the geomancers and support from the city guard have been more than enough to decimate the worm population and secure the city from underground attack, with relatively few casualties. (-1,000 Population, +5% Loyalty)

King's Challenge: A group of dragons have roosted upon the top of Mount Zeal. They have begun raiding our city, and snatching up elves to be their meals. They have proven immune to our geomancers' strongest direct magics, and have been relentless in their attacks. How do we respond?


Quillaachu
Spoiler :

The Piscans of Quillaachu faced a growing threat this year with increased attacks upon the settlement which has expanded into the sea. The underwater structures and community have frequently fallen under attack by a variety of beasts, most of which have apparently moved into the waters. Based on scouting done by the wooden turtles, it seems that the area simply has a particularly high density of kelp, which has attracted a large amount of sea life over the years. The Piscans themselves have been able to harness the kelp as well as build a burgeoning trade of the goods to the surface. The attacks are not originating from any one location, but from a variety of nests and mobile creatures, as the piscans are simply in the way of traditional migratory paths.


Sommerset
Spoiler :

The Elves of Sommerset have an ancient and proud tradition. Xenophobic and closely tied to their ancestor worship, renouncing all faiths of foreign land, the people of Sommerset are proud and somewhat primitive, relying on their regional magelords to deal with their problems under the guidance of the High Lord. Thal Paron has proven to be a competent manager and has gained the trust of the people, although members of his court and other nobles are still worried about the possibility that he murdered his predecessor.

High Lord's Challenge: There has been substantial shifting of ground to our east, and a number of unusual ziggurats have risen up overnight for no apparent reason. No signs of life have been seen, and no scouts have returned from exploring them. How do we respond?


Sverstall
Spoiler :

The dwarves of Sverstall began a new policy of expansion over these five years, building two new towns for the various elements of their population. The first of these is the underground settlement of Kaverstall. Dug out of the mountains, this settlement has been constructed for those dwarves who wish to live a completely earthen life, away from the tarnishing influence of the sun. The promise has been made for the construction of a completely underground road between the two towns as a future project, though for now they continue to rely on the river for trade. The second town to be established was the above ground settlement of Glenoak, which acts as a surface scouting point at the base of the river and the very edge of the mountains. The new settlements is not really very profitable, but is viewed as a good step forward for the dwarven people.


Vyraname
Spoiler :

The Emperor of Vyraname expanded his control over his empire this year with increased spending and control over the Cult of Noreas. A number of new churches have been built in Esterhold and Falreagen to act as centers for the worship of Noreas, and as homes and locations for the new priests of Noreas. The priesthood is a de facto extension of the emperor's power, and acts as his eyes and ears throughout the land, as well as the distributers of his propaganda. Regardless, the Priests of Noreas have been successful in building support for the religion, and most of the people of Vyraname have turned from their old ways of worship.

The city of Esterhold had a fairly eventful year, as scouts reported mysterious gifts of gold and minerals left in the woods. They attribute these gifts to a mystical, and perhaps mythical race of short people throughout the woods. The gifts have been added to the local treasury, but prolonged searches have yet to find any traces of what some of the men of Esterhold call fairy folk. Furthermore, the resources proved useful as the local miners expanded their operations, digging new mines and surveying for more resources in the mountains. The city has become substantially more profitable, sending raw minerals and gold back home to Falreagen.

Emperor's Challenge: A number of people in Falreagen have begun to wish to migrate to Esterhold, which has been abundantly told to be a open land filled with new opportunities. How do we respond?


Yevah
Spoiler :

The Kingdom of Yevah was fairly quiet during this period of the First Era, as the population went about their daily lives without much undue interruption. A new statue of Un-Michael was built in Redar, to assist in preventing the spread of crime and disorder in their marketplace. The statue has been much appreciated by the local population and it has served as a center of the community in many ways. The statue is an exact replica of the one built in Zinar, and is thus considered by many to be a mark of continuity among the Yevah people. The other key event was the formal announcement of the Judah's son Michael as the prince and formal heir to the throne. This has assured the continuity of the family line and their continued control over Yevah.


OOC

@Immaculate: I appreciate the flavor provided with all the fancy lettering in your names and cities, but please excuse me if I continue to use the closest letters with the standard alphabet. I'm still getting the hang of my new mapmaking software, and I had significant problems attempting to get the names to register properly outside of the standard options. For the sake of consistency, this will also take place in your stats. My apologies, and I'll try to fix this once I have the conflicts with the software worked out.

@TerrisH: Unfortunately, there's too much red on the map at the moment, so I gave you orange instead.

@Terrence888: I have determined I made an error when calculating your Expertise last turn, you should have had 2, not -3 to start. Your orders have been carried through regardless, giving you the appropriate number this time.

A Note on the Spoilers: The primary reason for putting the various things in spoilers is due to the conservation of space on the thread. Now, for those familiar with my updates for other NESes, you may wonder why I care, since obviously space on the page isn't much of a concern to me for Capto Iugulum. There is therefore a secondary reason. Namely, no nation has true contact with each other yet, and therefore cannot know what is truly going on everywhere else in the world. While I'm not saying you shouldn't read other people's articles, I'm just saying that it would not be in character to act upon anything, yet. Once we achieve the status of a truly global community (everyone has contact), then perhaps we can do away with the spoilers for good.

@Blaze Injun: instead of giving you that unit I owed you, I gave you a hero. I hope that's fair.

World Map

Spoiler :
 
killing both guards and inmates, until eventually, after taking many wounds which immobilized it, it collapsed. Afterwards, it nearly killed a dozen more guards as the body was dismembered, eliminating the threat. (+100 Gold)

I couldn't help but laugh at this part... but now I have to solve this dilemma quickly.
 
@Blaze: Don't be so judgemental; I'm sure the people with the fel monsters were just having a little fun until they took it too far.
 
The city had split into three in a surprisingly short space of time. You had the small water district, made up mostly of those that believed the not-water was too dangerous and did not need to be lived on and those piscans that had tired of being nomadic and brought their small tribes to live in the big city. It was small but the kelp farmers, shoal herders and game hunters were flourishing. At the other end, up on the cliffs were the rich and powerful, the ones who had reaped the most from the bounties of the not-water such as lumber and farming. The Main Road connected it to the water district, a straight line paved with pebbles to the most secure route up the cliff – a spiral ramp wide enough for seal-driven sleighs to go up. But this was expensive, so a multitude of ladders and stairs of varying quality had appeared like vines creeping up the cliff face. There were rumours the chief had access to caves that ran through the cliff and entered a cove far from the city. At the base of the cliff was the dry zone, a small part of the beach that was not usually touched by the sea. It had become the dump of the growing city, particularly of the higher classes, which tended to throw down refuse and litter. Scavenging had become a successful business for the last district, the tidal district. It was the largest and poorest part of the city - a sprawling, chaotic mess. Families were lucky if their houses survived the battering of the tides, and in the morning, more often than not, someone would have to see the local scavenger to see if they could get something cheap to patch the hole.

All this went through Sergeant Sachi’s as he walked, flanked by two guards, to the church. A runner – one of the street urchins the guards used to get messages to one another, paid slightly more than ‘postal’ runners – had breathlessly arrived at the guard house that morning, saying that one of the Low Priests was in trouble. The city had an interesting take on the church. By no means was worship of Her forbidden, but the Chief seemed to have little care for it. The church was taxed like any other building, but it never seemed to be short of funds. The main part was the tidepools – water in the not-water – while the rest were rooms for the priestesses, the priestesses-in-training and those too poor or sick to have places of their own. To an outsider, it was the largest structure on the beach, but there was very little different beyond that, material-wise.

The route to the church was different than before, but that just made guard duty all the more exciting. Merchants were hawking their wares, keeping an eye out for thieving children and vermin mud crabs. Everyone parted and closed for the city guard, resplendent in dyed seal leather.

When they arrived at the church, an acolyte guided them to the room of Low Priestess Izan. The escort stayed outside while the sergeant entered the room, pushing back the kelp curtain. The first thing that struck him was the feeling of the air in the room – it was like he was in the water. The High Priestess Axill, standing in the room, saw this immediately. “An alarming feeling, isn’t it? But do try to notice, sergeant.” The High Priestess directed the sergeant to the kneeling piscan in the room, head thrown back and mouth wide open. He eyes were glassy.

“Is she dead?”

“No, she is still breathing, look. But we haven’t been able to rouse her. Plus there is this strange…texture to the room.”

“Can I touch her?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

The sergeant gingerly poked the still girl. She didn’t feel any different. As he got closer, he could swear he could hear the girl making noises from her throat. He walked behind her, to where the priestess had a small rock garden. One of the rocks had a shape cut into it, and it was warm to the touch. “Did she do this?”

“Ah, well, when an acolyte came in to clean this morning, the first thing she did when she saw Low Priestess Izan in this…state, was to scream. The scream, the poor girl says, caused an arrow of fire to spring from her mouth and strike the rock. She’s currently in the pool of tranquillity.”

Sachi nodded as he paced the room. “Isn’t this room rather small?”

“No, all the low priests get rooms this small. Then again, we should be against the cliff face… You’re right, this is a rather small room.”

“Guard Tuca get in here.” The guard entered the room, holding his spear at an angle so not to scrape the low roof. “Smash that wall down.” It went down a little too easy for Sachi’s mind. Behind was a small pool with plants in it. “Speckled kelp,” said the sergeant, immediately recognising it. It was the latest thing being grown by farmers in the water. A drink infused with speckled kelp would make a piscan happy with the first couple of drinks, then make them very angry.

But the guard shook his head. “No sergeant, my cousin is a speckled kelp farmer and no way is this big enough or is this room light enough for real speckled kelp.”

“Well, guard Tuca, care to give your opinion?”

“I did hear of a smaller plant that looks a lot like speckled kelp, but you don’t go angry after a few drinks. You just feel, well, hungrier and less like doing anything. Can’t remember what’s called. Speckled weed, I think.”

“How do you know this, guard?”

“Well, you hear things in bars…”

“I see.” He turned to the High Priestess. “I believe she’s had an adverse reaction to this…speckled weed. Did she exhibit any unusual behaviour?”

“You know, come to think of it, she did. I noticed her getting slower in her duties and she was always the last one to meals. An initiate said she saw the low priestess going into her room a lot and saying unusual prayers. Oh dear…”

“Guard Tuca, go and get a runner, we need some sort of specialist on this. High Priestess Axill, I can assure we will get to the bottom of this.”
 
Tales from the Lands of Winter Fay: Part 1: A Message from Beyond

Poorly tanned hides, half-rotten and speckled grey hung before the entrance to the cave. They were decorated with strange runes and someone had sewn animal and even Vanir bones into them. At the top, where they were haphazardly attached to the low frame of the cave with resin, sweet scented smoke poured lazily into the bright winter air.

Stooping low and placing one hand upon the low ceiling of the cave entrance, the prince pulled the poorly tanned hides aside, careful not to disturb the runes or bones. His day-bright eyes could only barely perceive the shifting shadows of the glamoured Vanir huddled around a small fire deep inside the darkened cave. He signaled his retinue to wait and stepped into the shadows.

The cave was a humble structure; even Vanir serfs would rather live in a warmer, cleaner longhouse or, on the land, but these, the Desir witches, most honored mystics of the Vanir, choose to meet in this wretched stinking cave. Sven, son of King Hermóðr, known as Whitemane, or as Prince Regent, or as commander depending on who you asked bowed low to the shifting glamoured shadows flickering throughout the cave like moonlight in falling snow. These were ancient creatures, chosen by the messenger, and even for Vanir eyes their glamour was strong; the prince, though only fifteen paces from them, and of ancient and noble blood himself, was unsure how many of the crones were before him, what they were doing or even if they were armed. Blinking the sun-blindness out of his eyes he waited, catching the aroma of several woodland herbs he could not identify, rotting carcasses, and incense coming from the fire.

Finally one of the wretched crones spoke, “You come seeking our wisdom and that of the dead. You want to know how to bring death to the wolves that walk as men. Come. Sit.”

Sven’s tall frame made him have to bend to avoid scraping his head on the low rock ceiling and he lumbered forward without much of his usual warrior’s grace. A silver cup, dirty with greasy animal fat and other things he did not recognize slid towards him as shadowy glamoured figures danced around it. The same voice spoke again, “You know, prince, of the power of blood. Especially your fay blood. Bleed for the raven’s master and we might bring you wisdom.” Sven obediently opened his palm with a short wickedly sharp knife watching his sparkling red and golden fay blood drop into the cup. The crone retrieved the cup and for a moment the prince’s gaze pierced the glamour long enough to glimpse a gnarled and clawed hand tortured by centuries of primitive living.

Slowly at first but accelerating rapidly, the cave began to fill with the commanding chant of the Desir coven. Their voices were ancient and harsh, the language intimidatingly unknown, and yet the warrior-prince felt some sense of reassurance. Finally now there would be a tool to deal with the problem of the men-wolf and he might keep his people safe and perhaps more importantly rise to the glory and honor that was befitting of his bloodline and station.

Suddenly the chant ceased and some otherworldly wind began to whip about the cave sending embers from the fire into the air and forcing him to brush them quickly from his armor and fine bear-fur cloak. The Desir spoke, one or two at a time to the wind as it raced around them, again in a language only they seemed to know, occasionally softly and occasionally as a command. Finally, as Sven sat anxiously, occasionally batting at the strange wind when it strayed too close, the strange wind suddenly died away and the cup was overturned over the fire, releasing a hiss of steam and a strange odor.

The leader of the coven spoke, “Sven, son of King Hermóðr, who is called the Whitemane, commander of the Vanjir and Herdling alike, we have spoken to the spirits of the dead, messengers of the goddess, and we share with you now our wisdom. The creatures will rise again if slain by spear or sword, their animal fury too great to be slowed by the wound to their animal form. No. You must strike them where their mortality lies; you must strike at their soul and cleave the thread that links the spirit to the form. We will send with you the youngest of our order, acolytes accomplished in the magicks of the messenger, of death and shadow. Once your serf warriors have slain the wolves who would walk as men, the Desir acolytes shall provide the holy blessing of the goddess upon their fallen forms. This will steal away their spirit and their forms shall have peace until the goddess has need of them again. Do this and the Vanir of Helvan shall be saved and great glory shall come to you.”

Sven nodded, happy with the ritual and eager to leave but as he did, parting the rotting leathers to pass back into the sun he heard a voice speak from the cave, “But know this prince, the blessings of the Desir are not without their price. You shall bring us the hides of those creatures you slay and your debt shall be paid.”

As the prince stepped from the fire-warmed cave into the cold winter winds of the sea-side hills, despite the fall in temperature, he felt as if he had stepped from winter into summer and he shook a lingering cold from his spine with a tremor.
 
Stupid question - when it says "1,500 Gold, Lumber, Mana, or Minerals" under town cost, could I spend, say, 750 Gold and 750 Lumber, or does it all have to be of the same resource?
 
@Popcornlord: It can be any combination of resources you choose.


Consider this the 48 hour warning for orders.
 
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