Shatner
Warlord
In a recent thread I noticed that the Khazad were not especially well understood or well received among the board's denizens. I found this to be a real pity because the Khazad are easily my favorite civ in FFH. So, I grabbed my beard extensions (I'm not only the president of The Beards Club for Dwarves, I'm also a member), chain mail (dwarven long johns), rune-engraved hip-flask full of swamp whiskey and started digging. STRIKE THE EARTH!
The Map: Pangaea, Normal Size, Aggressive AI, Living World, No Tech Trading
The Difficulty: Emperor
The Speed: Normal
The Rivals: 9 civs, all random
"In the beginning thar was Keldon Ki. Well, before Keldon thar was Kilmorph, o' course; Kilmorph's been arround before everyone... except Kael, I guess. So, first there was Kael who made a mod and then... but we're no supposed to know about him; the Stonewardens call that apocryphal knowledge and if they hear ye saying it they'll club ye sure as ye like and make yer family pay a fine.
"Alrright, starting over, in the beginning thar were a lot of 'mportant people whose names starrted with K, and probably some people whose names dint start with K, like Bamburr, who kind o' throws off the alliteration. But Keldon made the dwarves frrom stone and Kilmorph bestowed the breath o' life unto them. Then these dwarves, like Bamburr 'cause he was one of them original dwarves, tunneled out of the dungeon Keldon was in fer rreasons I won't even go into and beget the dwarven rrace. There was a lot of begettin' and unto-ing in those days.
"Anyway, the dwarves thrived and glorified Kilmorph and worked the 'arth and probably beget some morre stuff unto other stuff and All Was Good. Then humans and elves and what-not came along and swindled the dwarves out of everry last craft and ingot they had and laughed the whole way back to their blo'y-stupid villages made out o' wood. So the dwarves told the taller rraces to feck off and decided to live underground like proper dwarves. Then a lot o' bad stuff happened and it got rreal cold and an age passed. Two gods died but one of 'em was put back together and there was this other K-bloke named Kylorin and then it wasnae cold no more and now King Arturus and his buddy Kandros (because someone has to keep the blo'y K thing going) are heading to the surface to found a new settlement and because o' that you most certainly cannae, uh... what was it you asked fer again?"
I was standing in the office of my patriarch, so young my beard wasn't even long enough to reached my pig-tail trousers. "I asked if I could make a small withdraw from the familial mutual fund for the acquisition of rock candy from Lodross Kiln's Confectionery."
"Oh, such talk. Ye'll be a scrribe soon enuff, laddie. Rright. I choose to veto that purchase on the grounds that the whole clan is relocatin' to the surrface and we'll be needin' to reserve the petty cash fer more 'mportant things. You'll eat yer plump helmets like the rest o' the employees [family] and be thankful, ye will."
The sound of footfall awoke me from my reminiscence and I was brought thirty-eight years forward to the present. Kandros Fir entered the office and paused... Listening. He liked to hear the sound of ledgers being balanced and it was said that he could detect an accounting error by auditory clues alone. I, like the rest of the scribes, bent over my work, trying not to attract attention from the CFO. A hand, heavily leaden with rings made of precious metals, was placed on my shoulder and I winced despite my efforts to the contrary. "You! Ye look sturrdy. The orcs have declared warr and me last auditor came back with pieces missin'. Consider this yer promotion. Grab yer ax and come with me."
"Me? Wh...where are we going?"
"To see the King. He's assembled the Board and I need ye to do two things fer me. Firrst, I need ye to take notes. Get yer best chisel and don't bother to grab tablets; those will be provided and we need to hurrrry." Ironically, that last word took Kandros a while to finish on account of all the rhotics.
"What's the second thing you need from me... sir?"
"What? Oh. When I yell 'RRUN!' keep up, for Kilmorph's sake. I can't have all me auditors calling in to work dead, now can I?"
Khazad was two cities in one. Resting on a hill surrounded by grasslands, adjacent to an inland sea and bordered on one side by a river, the fortifications of the upper city were visible from miles away. The outer city was ran by the Fir clan and the Fir clan was ran by Kandros... my boss with the excess of "rrrr"s. Below the surface, untouched by the sun and safe from the vertigo-inducing sky was the inner city. Nestled below the ground but above the Umber, the inner city contained the palace of Arturus Thorne, the self-exiled king. AND the famed dwarven vaults, the lifeblood of the dwarves, the same legendary structures which seemed to attract every greenskin and uppity barbarian on Erebus that could brandish something blunt and hefty. All that took place below the ground was governed by the king. It's good to be king.
38 years after Khazad had been founded, Jonas of the Clan of Embers had decided we didn't need all our gold... or internal organs, and declared war. Kandros wanted to repel the initial wave and then perform a hostile take-over of Clan assets. Arturus vetoed his plan, submitting instead that we take a more conservative strategy and let the greenskins spend themselves on our walls.
"And then what, me king?"
"And then, Kandrros, we preparre fer the next fool-hardy invaderr to try and steal our wealth. The surface doesnae want us and we donnae want it. It is not our place to expand, it is our place to endurre."
The whole of Erebus turned but the dwarves remained stationary. Over the following years numerous tribes of the surface came prowling around our lands, some even being so bold as to request an opening of borders. The King would have none of this; the lands of the Khazad were to be forever closed to the taller sorts. The King even had this message carved into the hills along our borders. Unfortunately, neither the Clan nor Hippus could read.
The Clan and the horselords came and smashed themselves senseless on the walls of Khazak. Some industrious laborers had even taken to etching lines outside the palisade, marking how close the invaders made it before having their limbs deducted by the auditors. All this was to facilitate the numerous betting pools held among the garrison (Rule of Acquisition #13, Anything Worth Doing is Worth Doing for Money). The surface had blossomed with empires; elves and orcs and humans all claimed swaths of land in the name of their people. The other races just didn't seem to understand that even though the dwarves only had one city, it was just the tip of a much larger kingdom buried in the Umber and that they should STOP INVADING US ALL THE BLOODY TIME! Maybe their hearts were incapable of pumping enough blood all the way up their freakishly tall bodies to their brains, resulting in them being so suicidally stupid. Either way, there was brisk trade in outer Khazak made of burning the clubs of our enemies into charcoal and shipping that to the smiths in inner Khazak. The tide of enemies ebbed and flowed but the dwarves endured, hoarding their riches deep underground and building the walls around Khazak ever thicker.
"Do ye feel that, auditorr?"
"Feel what, Mr. Kandros, sir?"
"The vaults're full. Overflowin', in fact. The stonewardens have rreconnected with our go'ess and now herr blessings fill our cofferrs. Don't ye just feel morre alive?"
"Well, yes sir but I thought that was because of those pithy motivational posters you had pinned up around the office. I'm rather fond of the one with the auditors pouring burning pitch through the murder holes on some orcs and says 'Work harder or we'll all die horribly!'"
"It isnnae the posters, lad, that have put that sprring in yer step. It's the vaults. We were animated frrom the very stone by Kilmorph herself. However, each generation o' dwarves that've passed have been furrther and furrther rremoved from her divinity. We used to all be Bamburrs but over time we became nearly as dense as those grreenies charging ourr walls with cudgels. However, the vaults contain wealth, lad, and wealth is the blessings o' our go'ess manifested in the verry 'arth. With enough o' it stockpiled it balances the divine deficit we've been rrunnin' fer centuries."
"So, by filling the vaults we've all become super-dwarves? Like Bambur!?" I asked enthusiastically, thinking of the Bambur action figures (With Real Smithing Action!) that I still keep on my mantle.
"Close enough, laddie. With the vaults like they arre, we're betterr, fasterr and strongerr than any daft punk ye care to name. But here's the best part... it's stopped workin'! We'rre piling ever more swag into the vaults but we're no getting more out o' it!"
"And that's... good?"
"Aye, 'cause beforre long the King'll have to rrecognize that one city cannae do the Go'ess justice. To sit on the wealth of Kilmorph and not invest it would be Sloth and no dwarf worrth his ax or hammerr could allow that; it's against the verry corre of Kilmorph's teachings. Marrk me words, laddie: the dwarves will have a bigger slice o' the surrface before it's overr orr I'll shave me beard and work fer frree."
Years passed. Lucien fought for the Doviello and died. Rantine did the same for the clan. The mad lord Perpentach was dispatched by someone or maybe he simply strolled by a mirror and declared war. Both Decius of the Calabim and Tasanke of Hippus had done the first sensible thing since the ice melted and began glorifying the Goddess. By the year 157, Halowell was founded at the other end of the inland sea on a proud hill surrounded by forests... and orc corpses (it turns out the orcs don't respond well to dwarven diplomacy, i.e. axes and a low center of gravity). A tunnel through the Umber and the blessings of the Stonewardens connected Halowell to the King's vault, allowing them to be energized through the boon of our goddess. The king insisted that the palisades of Halowell be built before the market that Kandros so desperately wanted. During that time I sought out safer professions than auditing for Kandros... like elephant taming and carp fishing.
There was a growing tension between Arturus and Kandros. With the founding of Halowell, the balance of power had begun to shift away from the underground (Arturus) and towards the wealth of the surface (Kandros). After all, it was the farms of the surface that kept everyone fed and nicely inebriated. It was the towns and markets of the surface that had filled the vaults to their brim. However, the King controlled the vaults so the King had the final say at all board meetings. The scuttlebutt was that the two had been close friends before the move to the surface but, once there, the two had very different ideas of how to go about making it safe for the dwarven people. Arturus saw the surface as hostile and inhospitable; populated only by those who would undo the labor of the dwarves (I guess he had played "Against the Wall"). Kandros saw the surface as an opportunity for the dwarves; new markets to expand into, new resources to add to the eternal cycle of dwarven commerce. Unfortunately for Kandros, Arturus was the God King of our primary city and it was his edict that we conserve, preserve and worship the Goddess. Whatever Kandros wanted, he'd have to bide his time... which he did by putting me to organizing his notes concerning his latest project: Operation Magna Carta.
The following seventy five years were ones of prosperity. The Tablets of Bambur were uncovered, ushering in a new era of devotion, honest labor and adorable motivational posters (The face of an orc smiling widely, showing more teeth than seems anatomically possible with the caption "Rule of Acquisition #48 - The bigger the smile, the sharper the knife"). Not long afterwards, Bambur himself (swoon) departed the Umber to assist his descendants in reclaiming a portion of the surface. I even got him to sign and enchant my ax; I wasn't able to bring myself to wash it for a month, despite all the orc blood. Riyold was founded in 196 on our western-most border, near rich gold and metal deposits, adjacent to lands formerly swarming with Clan warriors (Orcs: buy one mook get one horde free!). The Clan agreed to an end to our century-long hostilities; either because repeated blows to the head had knocked some sense into them or they learned to read and saw the messages we'd cut into the hills. When Tasanke, in a surprising upset, capitulated to Decius the Literally Blood Thirsty, the world was suddenly plunged into utter and complete peace. It was almost too much for our pessimistic King to bear. Fortunately, in the year 226, a surprise attack from Jonas resulted in the capture of Riyold and the slaughter of six veteran squads of auditors. That put Arturus back into comfortable territory.
For the first time since the thawing of the ice, the dwarves had been forced to give ground. The mountain had been budged. The children of the Goddess had been displaced by the savage worshipers of the Fellowship of Leaves. Overnight it seemed that Down had become Up, Black had become White and beards had become unfashionable! The King called an emergency Board meeting and there I heard hard questions being asked. Decisions were made that I, as Board stenographer, could only chisel onto the King's letterhead with shaking hands and a prayer to the Goddess on my lips. It would seem that the dwarves had been pushed, not only out of Riyold, but across The Line. The dwarves were going to war with the Clan for the final time; it was beards versus spikes and there would be no mercy.
If you want to play your own version of Industry and Isolation(tm), follow these rules:
1) You can not found your second city until you have at least 1,000 gold. Remember to fully charge your dwarves before playing with them.
2) Once you hit overflowing Vaults you can never drop below it. Don't bring them back down from their high. It's a bad trip, man, and you don't want to see it.
3) All cities must be built on hills. The novelty of being taller than their enemies has not worn off for the dwarves. Bonus points if you build palisades and walls BEFORE you build your market and temple.
4) Never open borders with others, never trade resources, never accept vassals. The dwarves, like the cheese, stand alone.
5) Losing is Fun! If at first you don't succeed, research Construction sooner.
6) There is NO rule six!
I tried this once before as Arturus and couldn't pull it off; by the time I was ready to build my second city, Doviello came a knockin' and they spoke very persuasively with their stacks of doomination (doom + domination). I've found the going with Kandros substantially easier.
At this point in the game (turn 228) the leaderboard is as follows:
Decius of Calabim: 1188
Amelchier (with Holy City of FoL): 938
Jonas: 789
Kandros: 409
Sabathiel: 377
Tasanke: 342
Dain: 240
Industry and Isolation: A Khazad Story
The Map: Pangaea, Normal Size, Aggressive AI, Living World, No Tech Trading
The Difficulty: Emperor
The Speed: Normal
The Rivals: 9 civs, all random
"In the beginning thar was Keldon Ki. Well, before Keldon thar was Kilmorph, o' course; Kilmorph's been arround before everyone... except Kael, I guess. So, first there was Kael who made a mod and then... but we're no supposed to know about him; the Stonewardens call that apocryphal knowledge and if they hear ye saying it they'll club ye sure as ye like and make yer family pay a fine.
"Alrright, starting over, in the beginning thar were a lot of 'mportant people whose names starrted with K, and probably some people whose names dint start with K, like Bamburr, who kind o' throws off the alliteration. But Keldon made the dwarves frrom stone and Kilmorph bestowed the breath o' life unto them. Then these dwarves, like Bamburr 'cause he was one of them original dwarves, tunneled out of the dungeon Keldon was in fer rreasons I won't even go into and beget the dwarven rrace. There was a lot of begettin' and unto-ing in those days.
"Anyway, the dwarves thrived and glorified Kilmorph and worked the 'arth and probably beget some morre stuff unto other stuff and All Was Good. Then humans and elves and what-not came along and swindled the dwarves out of everry last craft and ingot they had and laughed the whole way back to their blo'y-stupid villages made out o' wood. So the dwarves told the taller rraces to feck off and decided to live underground like proper dwarves. Then a lot o' bad stuff happened and it got rreal cold and an age passed. Two gods died but one of 'em was put back together and there was this other K-bloke named Kylorin and then it wasnae cold no more and now King Arturus and his buddy Kandros (because someone has to keep the blo'y K thing going) are heading to the surface to found a new settlement and because o' that you most certainly cannae, uh... what was it you asked fer again?"
I was standing in the office of my patriarch, so young my beard wasn't even long enough to reached my pig-tail trousers. "I asked if I could make a small withdraw from the familial mutual fund for the acquisition of rock candy from Lodross Kiln's Confectionery."
"Oh, such talk. Ye'll be a scrribe soon enuff, laddie. Rright. I choose to veto that purchase on the grounds that the whole clan is relocatin' to the surrface and we'll be needin' to reserve the petty cash fer more 'mportant things. You'll eat yer plump helmets like the rest o' the employees [family] and be thankful, ye will."
The sound of footfall awoke me from my reminiscence and I was brought thirty-eight years forward to the present. Kandros Fir entered the office and paused... Listening. He liked to hear the sound of ledgers being balanced and it was said that he could detect an accounting error by auditory clues alone. I, like the rest of the scribes, bent over my work, trying not to attract attention from the CFO. A hand, heavily leaden with rings made of precious metals, was placed on my shoulder and I winced despite my efforts to the contrary. "You! Ye look sturrdy. The orcs have declared warr and me last auditor came back with pieces missin'. Consider this yer promotion. Grab yer ax and come with me."
"Me? Wh...where are we going?"
"To see the King. He's assembled the Board and I need ye to do two things fer me. Firrst, I need ye to take notes. Get yer best chisel and don't bother to grab tablets; those will be provided and we need to hurrrry." Ironically, that last word took Kandros a while to finish on account of all the rhotics.
"What's the second thing you need from me... sir?"
"What? Oh. When I yell 'RRUN!' keep up, for Kilmorph's sake. I can't have all me auditors calling in to work dead, now can I?"
Khazad was two cities in one. Resting on a hill surrounded by grasslands, adjacent to an inland sea and bordered on one side by a river, the fortifications of the upper city were visible from miles away. The outer city was ran by the Fir clan and the Fir clan was ran by Kandros... my boss with the excess of "rrrr"s. Below the surface, untouched by the sun and safe from the vertigo-inducing sky was the inner city. Nestled below the ground but above the Umber, the inner city contained the palace of Arturus Thorne, the self-exiled king. AND the famed dwarven vaults, the lifeblood of the dwarves, the same legendary structures which seemed to attract every greenskin and uppity barbarian on Erebus that could brandish something blunt and hefty. All that took place below the ground was governed by the king. It's good to be king.
38 years after Khazad had been founded, Jonas of the Clan of Embers had decided we didn't need all our gold... or internal organs, and declared war. Kandros wanted to repel the initial wave and then perform a hostile take-over of Clan assets. Arturus vetoed his plan, submitting instead that we take a more conservative strategy and let the greenskins spend themselves on our walls.
"And then what, me king?"
"And then, Kandrros, we preparre fer the next fool-hardy invaderr to try and steal our wealth. The surface doesnae want us and we donnae want it. It is not our place to expand, it is our place to endurre."
The whole of Erebus turned but the dwarves remained stationary. Over the following years numerous tribes of the surface came prowling around our lands, some even being so bold as to request an opening of borders. The King would have none of this; the lands of the Khazad were to be forever closed to the taller sorts. The King even had this message carved into the hills along our borders. Unfortunately, neither the Clan nor Hippus could read.
The Clan and the horselords came and smashed themselves senseless on the walls of Khazak. Some industrious laborers had even taken to etching lines outside the palisade, marking how close the invaders made it before having their limbs deducted by the auditors. All this was to facilitate the numerous betting pools held among the garrison (Rule of Acquisition #13, Anything Worth Doing is Worth Doing for Money). The surface had blossomed with empires; elves and orcs and humans all claimed swaths of land in the name of their people. The other races just didn't seem to understand that even though the dwarves only had one city, it was just the tip of a much larger kingdom buried in the Umber and that they should STOP INVADING US ALL THE BLOODY TIME! Maybe their hearts were incapable of pumping enough blood all the way up their freakishly tall bodies to their brains, resulting in them being so suicidally stupid. Either way, there was brisk trade in outer Khazak made of burning the clubs of our enemies into charcoal and shipping that to the smiths in inner Khazak. The tide of enemies ebbed and flowed but the dwarves endured, hoarding their riches deep underground and building the walls around Khazak ever thicker.
"Do ye feel that, auditorr?"
"Feel what, Mr. Kandros, sir?"
"The vaults're full. Overflowin', in fact. The stonewardens have rreconnected with our go'ess and now herr blessings fill our cofferrs. Don't ye just feel morre alive?"
"Well, yes sir but I thought that was because of those pithy motivational posters you had pinned up around the office. I'm rather fond of the one with the auditors pouring burning pitch through the murder holes on some orcs and says 'Work harder or we'll all die horribly!'"
"It isnnae the posters, lad, that have put that sprring in yer step. It's the vaults. We were animated frrom the very stone by Kilmorph herself. However, each generation o' dwarves that've passed have been furrther and furrther rremoved from her divinity. We used to all be Bamburrs but over time we became nearly as dense as those grreenies charging ourr walls with cudgels. However, the vaults contain wealth, lad, and wealth is the blessings o' our go'ess manifested in the verry 'arth. With enough o' it stockpiled it balances the divine deficit we've been rrunnin' fer centuries."
"So, by filling the vaults we've all become super-dwarves? Like Bambur!?" I asked enthusiastically, thinking of the Bambur action figures (With Real Smithing Action!) that I still keep on my mantle.
"Close enough, laddie. With the vaults like they arre, we're betterr, fasterr and strongerr than any daft punk ye care to name. But here's the best part... it's stopped workin'! We'rre piling ever more swag into the vaults but we're no getting more out o' it!"
"And that's... good?"
"Aye, 'cause beforre long the King'll have to rrecognize that one city cannae do the Go'ess justice. To sit on the wealth of Kilmorph and not invest it would be Sloth and no dwarf worrth his ax or hammerr could allow that; it's against the verry corre of Kilmorph's teachings. Marrk me words, laddie: the dwarves will have a bigger slice o' the surrface before it's overr orr I'll shave me beard and work fer frree."
Years passed. Lucien fought for the Doviello and died. Rantine did the same for the clan. The mad lord Perpentach was dispatched by someone or maybe he simply strolled by a mirror and declared war. Both Decius of the Calabim and Tasanke of Hippus had done the first sensible thing since the ice melted and began glorifying the Goddess. By the year 157, Halowell was founded at the other end of the inland sea on a proud hill surrounded by forests... and orc corpses (it turns out the orcs don't respond well to dwarven diplomacy, i.e. axes and a low center of gravity). A tunnel through the Umber and the blessings of the Stonewardens connected Halowell to the King's vault, allowing them to be energized through the boon of our goddess. The king insisted that the palisades of Halowell be built before the market that Kandros so desperately wanted. During that time I sought out safer professions than auditing for Kandros... like elephant taming and carp fishing.
There was a growing tension between Arturus and Kandros. With the founding of Halowell, the balance of power had begun to shift away from the underground (Arturus) and towards the wealth of the surface (Kandros). After all, it was the farms of the surface that kept everyone fed and nicely inebriated. It was the towns and markets of the surface that had filled the vaults to their brim. However, the King controlled the vaults so the King had the final say at all board meetings. The scuttlebutt was that the two had been close friends before the move to the surface but, once there, the two had very different ideas of how to go about making it safe for the dwarven people. Arturus saw the surface as hostile and inhospitable; populated only by those who would undo the labor of the dwarves (I guess he had played "Against the Wall"). Kandros saw the surface as an opportunity for the dwarves; new markets to expand into, new resources to add to the eternal cycle of dwarven commerce. Unfortunately for Kandros, Arturus was the God King of our primary city and it was his edict that we conserve, preserve and worship the Goddess. Whatever Kandros wanted, he'd have to bide his time... which he did by putting me to organizing his notes concerning his latest project: Operation Magna Carta.
The following seventy five years were ones of prosperity. The Tablets of Bambur were uncovered, ushering in a new era of devotion, honest labor and adorable motivational posters (The face of an orc smiling widely, showing more teeth than seems anatomically possible with the caption "Rule of Acquisition #48 - The bigger the smile, the sharper the knife"). Not long afterwards, Bambur himself (swoon) departed the Umber to assist his descendants in reclaiming a portion of the surface. I even got him to sign and enchant my ax; I wasn't able to bring myself to wash it for a month, despite all the orc blood. Riyold was founded in 196 on our western-most border, near rich gold and metal deposits, adjacent to lands formerly swarming with Clan warriors (Orcs: buy one mook get one horde free!). The Clan agreed to an end to our century-long hostilities; either because repeated blows to the head had knocked some sense into them or they learned to read and saw the messages we'd cut into the hills. When Tasanke, in a surprising upset, capitulated to Decius the Literally Blood Thirsty, the world was suddenly plunged into utter and complete peace. It was almost too much for our pessimistic King to bear. Fortunately, in the year 226, a surprise attack from Jonas resulted in the capture of Riyold and the slaughter of six veteran squads of auditors. That put Arturus back into comfortable territory.
For the first time since the thawing of the ice, the dwarves had been forced to give ground. The mountain had been budged. The children of the Goddess had been displaced by the savage worshipers of the Fellowship of Leaves. Overnight it seemed that Down had become Up, Black had become White and beards had become unfashionable! The King called an emergency Board meeting and there I heard hard questions being asked. Decisions were made that I, as Board stenographer, could only chisel onto the King's letterhead with shaking hands and a prayer to the Goddess on my lips. It would seem that the dwarves had been pushed, not only out of Riyold, but across The Line. The dwarves were going to war with the Clan for the final time; it was beards versus spikes and there would be no mercy.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you want to play your own version of Industry and Isolation(tm), follow these rules:
1) You can not found your second city until you have at least 1,000 gold. Remember to fully charge your dwarves before playing with them.
2) Once you hit overflowing Vaults you can never drop below it. Don't bring them back down from their high. It's a bad trip, man, and you don't want to see it.
3) All cities must be built on hills. The novelty of being taller than their enemies has not worn off for the dwarves. Bonus points if you build palisades and walls BEFORE you build your market and temple.
4) Never open borders with others, never trade resources, never accept vassals. The dwarves, like the cheese, stand alone.
5) Losing is Fun! If at first you don't succeed, research Construction sooner.
6) There is NO rule six!
I tried this once before as Arturus and couldn't pull it off; by the time I was ready to build my second city, Doviello came a knockin' and they spoke very persuasively with their stacks of doomination (doom + domination). I've found the going with Kandros substantially easier.
At this point in the game (turn 228) the leaderboard is as follows:
Decius of Calabim: 1188
Amelchier (with Holy City of FoL): 938
Jonas: 789
Kandros: 409
Sabathiel: 377
Tasanke: 342
Dain: 240
![[NWO]_Valis](https://civfanatics-data.community.forum/avatars/m/110/110973.jpg?1475248361){kind=avatar}
