ADNES1: The Rood, The Roll and the Dragon
- Thread starter Aiken_Drumn
- Start date
We will welcome him and his entourage and arrange suitable housing. Upon his arrival, we will consult with him about sending one of our council in return.
Dunluce Turn 4: Winter
Rulers: Finn MacCool and wife Sive
Councilors: Taig, son of Ciann and Conall Gulban
Warchiefs: Niall Noigiallach and Cormac Cas
Merchant friend: Tir Eoghain
Recorder: Fergus
Capital: Balleykeel
Holy site: The Giant’s Causeway
Ambassador from Tyr Connall: Flaith Eiwan
Religion: Pagan
Colour: Dark Blue
Description: North East coast Irish nation
Diplomacy: +1 When acting with Dal Ariad
VAM: None
VAM orders: Expand merchant contacts all along the west coast of Britain to increase trade and tax revenue.
As the weeks moved past the Winter solstice and the people of Dunluce settled into the quiet time of the year where indoor activities dominated: trade goods were made, farm implements repaired and stories told. The gods were thanked for the abundant harvest. Young warriors were trained.
Finn MacCool and Sive welcomed Flaith Eiwan from Tyr Connell into their household and into their council. Trade was on the minds of all and plans were made for its expansion in the spring. Merchant leaders would be dispatched to all the important ports along the western coast of Britain to build relations, seek mineral resources, and explore opportunities before the trading ships set sail in the spring. Council Taig, son of Ciann, spent the winter crisscrossing the Lord’s lands and ensuring that every village and town had at least one and maybe more blacksmiths. Priestly emissaries prepared for their journey south to Emain Macha as soon as the weather and roads permitted. Two Cormac Cas’s sons would accompany them on their pilgrimage.
Rulers: Finn MacCool and wife Sive
Councilors: Taig, son of Ciann and Conall Gulban
Warchiefs: Niall Noigiallach and Cormac Cas
Merchant friend: Tir Eoghain
Recorder: Fergus
Capital: Balleykeel
Holy site: The Giant’s Causeway
Ambassador from Tyr Connall: Flaith Eiwan
Religion: Pagan
Colour: Dark Blue
Description: North East coast Irish nation
Diplomacy: +1 When acting with Dal Ariad
VAM: None
VAM orders: Expand merchant contacts all along the west coast of Britain to increase trade and tax revenue.
As the weeks moved past the Winter solstice and the people of Dunluce settled into the quiet time of the year where indoor activities dominated: trade goods were made, farm implements repaired and stories told. The gods were thanked for the abundant harvest. Young warriors were trained.
Finn MacCool and Sive welcomed Flaith Eiwan from Tyr Connell into their household and into their council. Trade was on the minds of all and plans were made for its expansion in the spring. Merchant leaders would be dispatched to all the important ports along the western coast of Britain to build relations, seek mineral resources, and explore opportunities before the trading ships set sail in the spring. Council Taig, son of Ciann, spent the winter crisscrossing the Lord’s lands and ensuring that every village and town had at least one and maybe more blacksmiths. Priestly emissaries prepared for their journey south to Emain Macha as soon as the weather and roads permitted. Two Cormac Cas’s sons would accompany them on their pilgrimage.
erez87
Lord of Random
I of course confirm you sending representatives and i will send priests.
will post orders a bit later today.
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
I need to redo my orders because May Day is in the spring not the winter.
Apologies my dude, hope the adjustment doesn't cause too much trouble
erez87
Lord of Random
Laighn Orders
Build a massive Cathedral in Kilkenny to attract interest and pilgrims. Send priests to places that accept them for some proselytizing. Use my feared by local populace to make sure the new lands are stable and productive.
Build a massive Cathedral in Kilkenny to attract interest and pilgrims. Send priests to places that accept them for some proselytizing. Use my feared by local populace to make sure the new lands are stable and productive.
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
Angst
Rambling and inconsistent
Mumha orders
Send a Christian clan representative to Laighn to establish formal relations, particularly in trade. Make sure some good deals are made, and that the trade relations and trade posts function without incident. Showcase amiability. Trade between Mumha and Laighn influenced by Mumha plutocrats should be mutually benefitial, and ensure codepency.
Send a Christian clan representative to Laighn to establish formal relations, particularly in trade. Make sure some good deals are made, and that the trade relations and trade posts function without incident. Showcase amiability. Trade between Mumha and Laighn influenced by Mumha plutocrats should be mutually benefitial, and ensure codepency.
Gelion
Retired Captain
I'm back, let me read up on things a little.
EDIT:
- Aedan you must understand that *hiccup", you cannot just order people abouts. We *hiccup* called out everyone and none of your people came. Its *hiccup* not like your Roman Sen...
*falls in the gutter*
Aedan shrugged his shoulders and picked up his happy collocutor. It was a few months after the so called "summit". A few drunk monks, a few second grade local nobles. Not that grand collection that the King had promised him. As he walked on deliver his cargo into the hands of a very capable, but strict woman Aedan's thoughts came to going over the events of the past months. A few came, the people he was hoping for. Romans. Some of noble birth, some of common descent. They came and met each other. Some promised support and their friendship.
If the horse doesn't move we take a rest and make it try again. I've made contacts with some some Greek monks from Ravenna and other places. Lets continue with the plan. The king will have to make do.
Orders: Move in a community of Greek monks from Italy and Greece, make them work on manuscripts on their Christian faith. Listen to preaching, make some remote dwellings for hermit sites.
OOC: Christian faith in Ireland was boosted by Greek monks before it spread to parts of the British Isles. This is kind of re-constructing that part of history.
Since I missed 2 turns I'd happily take the multiplications of this order times 2 or 3.
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So glad you are back! Was worried for you. Now, is that everyone?
Gelion
Retired Captain
Good to be back for however long 
Yes! All orders are in. 
I shall endeavour to do an update before I go home for Christmas, which is Weds 22nd.
Any nice stories, doodles and other creative frivolities written before then will get +2 to your roll, since its Christmas
Uladh: @Kyzarc Fotjage
Mumha: @Angst
Meadh: @Terrance888
Connachta : @Gelion
Dunluce : @Birdjaguar
Laighn : @erez87
Dumnonia: @Danwar
Dal Aradi: @Eltain
Tyr Connail: @Lord of Elves
Kernow: @christos200
I shall endeavour to do an update before I go home for Christmas, which is Weds 22nd.
Any nice stories, doodles and other creative frivolities written before then will get +2 to your roll, since its Christmas
Uladh: @Kyzarc Fotjage
Mumha: @Angst
Meadh: @Terrance888
Connachta : @Gelion
Dunluce : @Birdjaguar
Laighn : @erez87
Dumnonia: @Danwar
Dal Aradi: @Eltain
Tyr Connail: @Lord of Elves
Kernow: @christos200
Dunluce Extra content
Sive and her attendant lady walked the cold, wet streets and stalls of Balleykeel’s market. Merchants nodded to her and in extended hands offered her their latest goods. Of some she inquired further, but for most she smiled and acknowledged them. Sive had purpose, she was looking for new and different items from afar, perhaps some Pictish wool woven in their style and colors. Among the metal merchants she made discrete inquiries about the arrival of iron and coal at the ports. Finn would want to know any news on that front so he could direct his men to purchase and warehouse such necessary items. The market was busy and goods and money were changing hands steadily. Dunluce was becoming a connection point between the tribes of northern Ireland and Britain and the road tolls and port taxes and fees were filling Finn’s coffers. As a bonus the ship's captains and crews were talkative and news from their travels around the eastern coast worked its way to Ballykeel and thence to the council. The comings and goings and Lords actions from distant kingdoms were useful to know. And so Sive listened too.
Part way through the market she ran into Flaith Eiwan of Tyr Connall who was intoxicated by the scope and variety of Balleykeel’s marketplace. She thought: “A young man seeing the big city for the first time is spell bound in wonder.” She also noticed that his eyes wandered from her belly to the bosom of her attendant. “Aha, young love? More likely a young man’s lust.” She would make sure that such desires would bear fruit with some young lady of that skill on a cold winter night. His father was an important ally and it was her delight to aid in keeping that alliance a strong one.
Sive and her attendant lady walked the cold, wet streets and stalls of Balleykeel’s market. Merchants nodded to her and in extended hands offered her their latest goods. Of some she inquired further, but for most she smiled and acknowledged them. Sive had purpose, she was looking for new and different items from afar, perhaps some Pictish wool woven in their style and colors. Among the metal merchants she made discrete inquiries about the arrival of iron and coal at the ports. Finn would want to know any news on that front so he could direct his men to purchase and warehouse such necessary items. The market was busy and goods and money were changing hands steadily. Dunluce was becoming a connection point between the tribes of northern Ireland and Britain and the road tolls and port taxes and fees were filling Finn’s coffers. As a bonus the ship's captains and crews were talkative and news from their travels around the eastern coast worked its way to Ballykeel and thence to the council. The comings and goings and Lords actions from distant kingdoms were useful to know. And so Sive listened too.
Part way through the market she ran into Flaith Eiwan of Tyr Connall who was intoxicated by the scope and variety of Balleykeel’s marketplace. She thought: “A young man seeing the big city for the first time is spell bound in wonder.” She also noticed that his eyes wandered from her belly to the bosom of her attendant. “Aha, young love? More likely a young man’s lust.” She would make sure that such desires would bear fruit with some young lady of that skill on a cold winter night. His father was an important ally and it was her delight to aid in keeping that alliance a strong one.
erez87
Lord of Random
It doesn't usually snow in Kilkenny on Christmas eve, but this year was particularly cold and the capital was white. The "capital" wasn't much more than a few large stone buildings, wooden palisades and wooden houses of the few hundred people who lived in Kilkenny. The new Cathedral was under construction and Illan have decided to spend the religious time with his close family, wife and only child. Yes among the populace he was considered mean and ruthless, but to his wife and son he was always a calm loving man. He played with his child and the family hanged a few mistletoes and berry filled hollies around the main hall. In not long the Christian gathering at his capital will happen and Ireland will continue its transition into Christendom.
With a harsh snowy winter Illan had to delay his plans to build a navy and go raid Britain and pagan settlements. In the north Pagans were enlarging their kingdoms, fighting other pagans and Christians a like. To the south Mumha was expanding its trading ports closer to his borders, a pagan nation with a growing Christian populace, that after the gathering may grow much larger. The King in Connachta invited Greek monks to help with preaching and Illan hoped the main parts of his new massive Cathedral will be ready to attract them to visit and spread the good word around southern Ireland as well. So many plans, so little time.
But for now, for the day of his birth Illan played with his child and loved his family. They would have a calm Christmas of prayer with the close family. There's plenty of time to worry later.
With a harsh snowy winter Illan had to delay his plans to build a navy and go raid Britain and pagan settlements. In the north Pagans were enlarging their kingdoms, fighting other pagans and Christians a like. To the south Mumha was expanding its trading ports closer to his borders, a pagan nation with a growing Christian populace, that after the gathering may grow much larger. The King in Connachta invited Greek monks to help with preaching and Illan hoped the main parts of his new massive Cathedral will be ready to attract them to visit and spread the good word around southern Ireland as well. So many plans, so little time.
But for now, for the day of his birth Illan played with his child and loved his family. They would have a calm Christmas of prayer with the close family. There's plenty of time to worry later.
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Eltain
Deity
Dal Aradi update 4
Finistere mac Dougal stared at his plate.
A pair of boiled pigs eyes stared back up at him.
He looked to his mother, Marey, for sympahy.
"I did'na work my fingers to the bone to get you that apprenticeship with the Dio-what's-its for two years just for you to turn your nose up at your granny's traditional Nollaigshonna dinner. Now eat up, or else Christ the What's-it will make sure you go downstairs instead of up when you die.
His mother tried to learn the Catholic words, at least. That was more than could be said of his father.
"Eat yer slop, tha's what was cheapest at the market and tha's what we'll et.
His father cursed as he piled more wood shavings around the yule log.
"Thiss'll kill those damn wrigglers comin up in yer mudder's garden, that's fer darn sure.
The wood shavings had come from his father's carpentry shop, which had been opened with a loan from Aethen Lord, the local tribal prince.
Finistere had never met Aethen or Wulster mac Dunlainge, one of the prince's younger brothers, though his father was a frequent supplier of tools for their warbands.
His father poked and prodded the yule log. He claimed he was making critical structural improvements. He didn't want the log to topple.
While his parents were looking away, he slipped the boiled hogs eyes to the dogs.
"Dougal mac Farghle, stop playin with that fire and get your son a second bowl of stew. He's already finished!
More meat porridge was sloughed into his bowl as he closed his eyes in desperate prayer.
Finistere sighed. "Let the Devil take me now..."
Finistere mac Dougal stared at his plate.
A pair of boiled pigs eyes stared back up at him.
He looked to his mother, Marey, for sympahy.
"I did'na work my fingers to the bone to get you that apprenticeship with the Dio-what's-its for two years just for you to turn your nose up at your granny's traditional Nollaigshonna dinner. Now eat up, or else Christ the What's-it will make sure you go downstairs instead of up when you die.
His mother tried to learn the Catholic words, at least. That was more than could be said of his father.
"Eat yer slop, tha's what was cheapest at the market and tha's what we'll et.
His father cursed as he piled more wood shavings around the yule log.
"Thiss'll kill those damn wrigglers comin up in yer mudder's garden, that's fer darn sure.
The wood shavings had come from his father's carpentry shop, which had been opened with a loan from Aethen Lord, the local tribal prince.
Finistere had never met Aethen or Wulster mac Dunlainge, one of the prince's younger brothers, though his father was a frequent supplier of tools for their warbands.
His father poked and prodded the yule log. He claimed he was making critical structural improvements. He didn't want the log to topple.
While his parents were looking away, he slipped the boiled hogs eyes to the dogs.
"Dougal mac Farghle, stop playin with that fire and get your son a second bowl of stew. He's already finished!
More meat porridge was sloughed into his bowl as he closed his eyes in desperate prayer.
Finistere sighed. "Let the Devil take me now..."
Danwar
Warlord
Dumnonia: Ubi Sumus?
As the last of his assembled comes rode out, Ambrosius looked forth from the doorway of the basilica over the 'city' he now called his capital as a gentle drift of snow descended upon it. The feast had attracted many before, but most had returned to their farms and estates rather than linger in this ruined town, and Ambrosius could understand why. Founded on a hotspring dedicated to a dying pagan cult by an empire that had withdrawn its presence long ago, the town was a shadow of its former self. Before his arrival had allowed him to arbitrate local disputes personally, even the rule of law was crumbling as those who remained had at times turned to murder to keep themselves and their families secure. And he could not help but find himself asking: "Where are we now?" Where were the last of the sons of Rome on this isle? Where were its people? Were they really all dead and buried beneath the frozen earth?
Ambrosius quietly saddled his horse, and rode down the cobbled streets. Horseback riding was often frowned upon by his fellow Romans, but one thing he had learned whilst on campaign was that the maneuverability of a horse and the prominent position it put him upon was crucial to inspiring and commanding his men. Now, he quietly reassured the mare as he rode through those near-empty streets. But, even as he did so, he caught glimpses of something he had not noticed before. As he passed the forum, he saw the glint of coins passing between merchants and their customers even as their stalls were dusted with white. He strode past a small contingent of local townsfolk drilling in the cold and guided by a man he recognized as another veteranus of his former army. The holes in the walls around him were patched with wooden planks rather than standing open, and a mother walked past him, carrying a babe in her arms and presumably off to run errands.
Now, he understood. The town, while at first seeming so barren and empty, was not truly dead. The seeds of new life were sprouting thanks to the stability he had established, and as he heard the church bells echo, he saw the town for what it was: Just as holy Christ had been reborn from sin and death, so too would Britannia rise forth from the ashes of barbarism and destruction once more. God willing, Rome and Brittania would be born anew even in this dark era. "Hic sumus", he whispered. "We are here."
As the last of his assembled comes rode out, Ambrosius looked forth from the doorway of the basilica over the 'city' he now called his capital as a gentle drift of snow descended upon it. The feast had attracted many before, but most had returned to their farms and estates rather than linger in this ruined town, and Ambrosius could understand why. Founded on a hotspring dedicated to a dying pagan cult by an empire that had withdrawn its presence long ago, the town was a shadow of its former self. Before his arrival had allowed him to arbitrate local disputes personally, even the rule of law was crumbling as those who remained had at times turned to murder to keep themselves and their families secure. And he could not help but find himself asking: "Where are we now?" Where were the last of the sons of Rome on this isle? Where were its people? Were they really all dead and buried beneath the frozen earth?
Ambrosius quietly saddled his horse, and rode down the cobbled streets. Horseback riding was often frowned upon by his fellow Romans, but one thing he had learned whilst on campaign was that the maneuverability of a horse and the prominent position it put him upon was crucial to inspiring and commanding his men. Now, he quietly reassured the mare as he rode through those near-empty streets. But, even as he did so, he caught glimpses of something he had not noticed before. As he passed the forum, he saw the glint of coins passing between merchants and their customers even as their stalls were dusted with white. He strode past a small contingent of local townsfolk drilling in the cold and guided by a man he recognized as another veteranus of his former army. The holes in the walls around him were patched with wooden planks rather than standing open, and a mother walked past him, carrying a babe in her arms and presumably off to run errands.
Now, he understood. The town, while at first seeming so barren and empty, was not truly dead. The seeds of new life were sprouting thanks to the stability he had established, and as he heard the church bells echo, he saw the town for what it was: Just as holy Christ had been reborn from sin and death, so too would Britannia rise forth from the ashes of barbarism and destruction once more. God willing, Rome and Brittania would be born anew even in this dark era. "Hic sumus", he whispered. "We are here."
Thank you all! Some lovely evocative stories. I am afraid time has got away with me and the update will now be posted after Christmas. Tomorrow I head "homehome" to visit my family, and won't have time nor a computer to get this update completed. Also I will be spending time with my family! Until then, I hope Santa thinks you have been nice this year!
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Kyzarc Fotjage
Rise Up
Eochaid rested his head on the exposed masonry block and sighed. The construction was continuing apace, he knew this consciously, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't fast enough. The northerners were riling themselves up for a war and he knew it was only a matter of time before they worked up their courage enough to strike. Gods be kind, give him another year to prepare. He could almost hear the spirit of his father in his ear, telling him about the traitors who forswore their oaths a century past and destroyed the kingdom of Ulster. The vile western brothers who burned down the Emain Macha and slew the king. The rebel chiefs to the south. But his father was a coward, too afraid of losing what little he'd preserved to actually try to reclaim what was his by right. There was a footstep behind him and he tensed, half expecting... what, a knife in the back? No, it was just Cairell. His familar, booming voice rang out, "Hail brother! God be praised, this is a truly fine day. Truly an auspicious sign for the coming Yule." A heavy hand clamped on his shoulder and in the corner of his eye Eochaid could see the looming face of his younger brother looking at him, the jolly grin turning to concern, "Are you not well? Come now, glowering at the stones won't make them move any faster. It will be finished in God's good time."
Eochaid sighed and turned to face his brother. Standing at a full six feet he was a giant of a man, with the rosy tint on his cheeks of one who snuck into the wine stores too early in the day. Blocky features and a heavily muscled body made him much loved by the warriors, who would inevitably egg him into a set of wrestling matches come Yuletide, having him drink after each victory. It was an even bet if he would pass out or lose first. In comparison Eochaid was relatively slight, a head shorter and with a lean body. Too many days riding and talking, not enough on the field doing honest work or training with his men.
"The gods" Eochaid put a slight emphasis on the word, just to see the slight wince from his brother, "most often help those that make it easy for them." He sighed, "But you are right. Pray that the winter is short, brother, I wish for the work to be much further advanced before our enemies come for us."
"Eochaid! Eochaid, where are you?" A high voice came from the hilltop above them. Eochaid winced and Cairell grinned again, "Ah, not just brooding then. Worry not brother, I will throw myself before this arrow for you."
The brothers nodded to each other as a bright plume of red hair came into view from the half-finished hall atop the hill. Eochaid vaulted over the wall he'd been leaning on as Cairell lumbered into motion, moving to intercept the short woman who was gaining momentum down the hill and laughing. Eochaid could hear the distant laugh and shrill shriek behind him as Cairell caught the fast-moving woman in one massive arm and swept her into the air, "My favorite sister-in-law! And how are you on this fine day?"
Eochaid smiled to himself. His brother was right, the future belonged to itself. Worry about the present.
Eochaid sighed and turned to face his brother. Standing at a full six feet he was a giant of a man, with the rosy tint on his cheeks of one who snuck into the wine stores too early in the day. Blocky features and a heavily muscled body made him much loved by the warriors, who would inevitably egg him into a set of wrestling matches come Yuletide, having him drink after each victory. It was an even bet if he would pass out or lose first. In comparison Eochaid was relatively slight, a head shorter and with a lean body. Too many days riding and talking, not enough on the field doing honest work or training with his men.
"The gods" Eochaid put a slight emphasis on the word, just to see the slight wince from his brother, "most often help those that make it easy for them." He sighed, "But you are right. Pray that the winter is short, brother, I wish for the work to be much further advanced before our enemies come for us."
"Eochaid! Eochaid, where are you?" A high voice came from the hilltop above them. Eochaid winced and Cairell grinned again, "Ah, not just brooding then. Worry not brother, I will throw myself before this arrow for you."
The brothers nodded to each other as a bright plume of red hair came into view from the half-finished hall atop the hill. Eochaid vaulted over the wall he'd been leaning on as Cairell lumbered into motion, moving to intercept the short woman who was gaining momentum down the hill and laughing. Eochaid could hear the distant laugh and shrill shriek behind him as Cairell caught the fast-moving woman in one massive arm and swept her into the air, "My favorite sister-in-law! And how are you on this fine day?"
Eochaid smiled to himself. His brother was right, the future belonged to itself. Worry about the present.
