DominionNES2

Spoiler :
Asclepius the healer coughed.

He was in the southern part of the Eldergate that he had set up as a ramshackle clinic. In a country ravaged by the…strange sicknesses… as Ermor, these clinics were almost essential.

“I am sorry… Reliona,” he said. “There is nothing that I can do for your daughter.”

“Impossible, she was just fine yesterday. We know that you are the best of the best. There has to be something…”

Asclepius eyed the young girl, the patient, closely again. There was no mark on the body, no indication of pain other than a tired eye, and almost peaceful smile on the mouth.

“… Healers call it the Sleeping Disease. It broke out only when the Angel stepped out of the Gates of the Underworld, along with host of other infections. Other things can be cured if caught early. Infections of the wound can be treated.

There is nothing that can be done for this.”

“Damn it, listen to me,” Reliona snapped back. She was an old woman, by Ermorian standards anyways. Around 30ish? 40ish? Asclepius judged. She came from some background of wealth, judging by the jewelry she wore. She was probably a noblewoman who was unused to things not going her way.

“I am sorry, Miss,” Asclepius said. “I must attend to my other patients.” She hissed and lunged at him, only to be stopped by a nurse and held back.

“Save her… save her damn it!”

Asclepius watched her as the nurses shooed her away out of the clinic. They were trained to do so. Less disruption for other patients and their loved ones. A priest, dressed in a black robe, entered the clinic, was barely able to duck under Reliona’s struggling arm as it waved wildly, and walked towards Asclepius.

“Are you facing any difficulties that you must attend to here, Healer?” the priest asked.

Asclepius shot an accusing glare at the priest before answering: “No, my nurses and trainees can handle themselves well. I’ve taught them all that I can.”

“Good,” the priest said. “Samael wishes to speak to you regarding your proposal.”

“Alright, I’ll get ready…” Asclepius froze as he turned and looked down on the girl.

“Oh god. Oh god god god why. Not now.”

“Is there a problem?” the priest said, looking over his shoulder.

“Is there a problem?! She’s dead!” Asclepius said.

“… from one of Samael’s Gifts, no doubt,” the priest said.

“You call this a gift?”

“Those who die from it die a painless death in their dreams,” the priest replied. “The body is easily preserved for the day when they will be reunited with their family and their ancestors.”

“Her mother was just here!”

“Where is she now?”

“I…sent her out. She was being… disruptive.”

“Oh.”

“Damn it… how am I going to explain this…”

“Do you need more time to inform the family?”

“Oh shut up.”



They left the clinic through the back door. He had a sense that if he confronted Reliona now, he would never be able to meet Samael. As he did so, he heard a long and wrathful wail.


“This is all your fault, you know,” Asclepius said. “You and your deathworshipping. I bet that that’s why there’s so much more illnesses around.”

“Ah yes,” the priest said, smiling. “That is a common view… but have you considered seeing it from the perspective of the dead?”

Asclepius stopped. “What the hell are you talking abo-“

“Instead of suffering a long and painful death, like many others of our world after Pantokrator’s Sacrifice, we die a quick one in a dream. Just look at human subjects of C’tis dying a painful death to the plague… Sure, we may die younger… but our lives are much more fruitful,” the priest explained with many gestures.

“Fruitful?”

“Have you not noticed that your study have accelerated ever since Samael entered the world? That you found help when you were in need? That the potion that you mixed without thinking actually saved lives?”

“Yes, but…”

“Those are all Samael’s blessings to us. In addition, look at how the Arcocephales struggle to find meaning in the world without the Pantokrator… and finding none.”

“And Samael taught you the meaning of the world?”

“No. The problem with the Arcocephales is that they seek to find meaning from history, meaningless scraps and memories of the past, and from logic, which only uncovers things that they do not yet understand, never providing any answers. Samael taught us how foolish those were, that the last thing that the dying remembers is not glory or fame that they have accumulated nor the knowledge that they learned, but rather that one sweet moment with their loved one.”

“…What are you saying?”

“What I am saying is that the meaning of life is love, for whatever or whomever you want,” the priest said. “Now she never actually said that, but that’s the meaning that I chose for myself. I think it works for most cases. Do you love your craft, Asclepius?”

“Yes.”

“So that will be the meaning of your life… healing, as many people as possible. Not because of any sense of duty, but because you love doing so.”

“And how does this “meaning” apply to the girl?” Asclepius said, growling. He started walking again. “She was barely 5.”

“I…” the priest started to speak and stopped.

“Was her life fruitful as it could be?”

The priest was silent for a while. “People die. Some younger than others. Some too young. And it is unfair,” he admitted. “I have no excuses for her. We are near the temple.”

The temple was a newly constructed one, with statues of the angel crafted out of black stones lining it. Immense pillars supporting the roof rose to the sky…

And between the columns, an equally immense figure could be seen.


“Samael,” Asclepius said as he approached. “Goddess.”

“You have come,” Samael said. Something in her voice sent chills down Asclepius’s spine.

Or that may have been the headless priest anointing her armor, with its eyes all staring into his soul.

“I suspected that you will not,” she continued. “Servant of life, I would have thought that you despised me.”

“And I do.”

“And yet you seek to help me.”

“I do not wish to help you. Your wars will cause devastations. I will be there for the wounded, but not for you.”

The congregation of priests milling about stopped one by one to watch the exchange. Samael did not seem to react at all to the poison-dipped words.

“You are an Ermorian, yet you would help your hated enemy. Why is that so?”

“Everything is equal before death, a saying has said,” Asclepius said. “But yet Death is clearly in favor of Ermor. Therefore I, the servant of Life, will do my best to retain the balance. For all deserve an equal chance in their living instead of chasing after dreams of things to come after death.”

Asclepius glared at Samael. Samel stared back with an incomprehensible expression. The priests all began to whisper among themselves until Samael spoke again.

“I’ll allow you to come and join my army,” she said.

Asclepius inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, but kept a straight face. Why she agreed to it, he did not understand. Perhaps she felt a pang of guilt. Perhaps she never really cared who lived and who died. “Thank you.”

“Will you stay within my army’s camp?”

“I’ll stay wherever I can access the most number of patients.”

“Will you need bodyguards?”

“Only if they don’t slow me down or are not clumsy or are professional to the patients.”

“I can provide ones who are.”

“Good.”

“Will you at least tell me if you want to go to the enemy camps to heal?”

“I make no promises.”

“I figured,” Samael said, the sides of her mouth rising almost imperceptibly up. “We march tomorrow.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………

“Your medicine bag, sir?” one of the velites assigned to him as bodyguard said as he handed him a large leather bag.

“Oh… uh… thank you Leonius,” Asclepius said. Leonius was quite nimble with his hand. Turned out that he had been a field medic before. So Asclepius let him around him more than others.

“No problems, sir,” Leonius said. Asclepius sighed as he watched the legionaires began to build a make-shift camp.

“Shoot,” Asclepius suddenly said.

“A problem, sir?” Leonius asked.

“I forgot to tell that I am sorry to Reliona.”

“I am certain that she’ll understand, sir. Whoever she is….”

Asclepius shot him a look before burying his face into his hands.
 
Āsthā kā rakṣaka- the defenders of the faith
Please play this while reading.

They were underground, in hiding again, but somehow, something had changed. There was more than just stubborn resistance and faithful conviction amongst them; there was something else- confidence. The arrival of the Pavitra Baccē, the slaying of the cursed witch doctor, the routing of Gunlop’s soldiers, it had given the faithful of Ilfundune a strength, knowing that at any moment their four-armed messenger might return and punish those who did them wrong just as he had Gunlop’s witch-doctor. Now they walked freely in the street. The soldiers would pretend they did not know they were faithful of the “Pūrṇatā kē li'ē rāstā” (Way of Perfection). Indeed, even amongst the sodiers there was a growing number of faithful. Gunlops remained governor but his power was evaporating. There was even rumours that he had left the city but that would not be like him

The congregation continued to meet in secrecy; Nyonweh insisted on it. She would not take chances with their lives. Since her appointment as Āsthā kā rakṣaka (defender of the faith) of Ilfundune, she had organized the faithful, strengthened them both in spirit and in action. She was a natural leader and though she had come late to the faith, there was no doubting her devotion or loyalty. She spoke of peace and forgiveness but at her hip she kept a long curved blade. Her voice was soft, patient, but her words were fire, words like “resistance”, “vengeance”, and “our time”.

Today she was meeting separately in a high level meeting with the king of Fornalis, the Āsthā kā rakṣaka Lofar and the male Naga Āvāza, who seemed to serve as the Pavitra Bacce’s primary mover and shaker behind the scenes, a sort of ambassador and diplomat and maybe more.

Nyonweh had begun to dress in the tradition of the Bhumi, as many of the faithful had, and she wrapped herself in a saree complete with a dupatta (or scarf) she pulled over her head. She kept a blade at her side and there was always a glint of cold determination in her eyes that her soft features could do nothing to dispel.
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Lofar had maintained his serenity despite the tense atmosphere of Ilfundune and his calm demeanor did much to inspire the people of the city, as too did the tale of his own conversion and acceptance of the path to perfection. Āvāza was as always, clad in his bejeweled armor but had now shed his robes of coarsely woven and undyed cotton, signifying that he had completed his purification ritual. He appeared now much more like a warrior and a long falchion hung at his left hip while a small buckler was strapped to his forearm. He had not deigned to assume his ‘human’ form and his golden-brown scales were shining with reflected firelight from the candles that lit the room.

The three were not discussing a raid, or battlefield strategy, or even logistics of supplying their warriors. Instead they were deeply engaged in a theological discussion. Were the Machaka defeated? Could they be defeated? What were the goals of the faithful in this war? Would they stop once the faithful were freed? Was it right to bring the faith to those who had been misled even at the costs of the lives of soldiers and the corrupted Machaka monarchy?

All three trusted the messenger, the sacred child, the Pavitra Baccē completely and if he said that they must die or kill for the sake of the “Pūrṇatā kē li'ē rāstā” they would. But there had never been a priests or messenger of the faith who had said that one must obey without consideration, that blind obedience was required of the faithful- indeed the message was exactly the opposite- to consider the words carefully and come to one’s own conclusions. Perhaps it was this lack of compulsion that inspired such strong devotion; regardless, devoted they were but they also had a duty to consider why they acted as they did. To act without thought, or worse, without intention, was worse than to fail to act. Furthermore there was no ‘I was just following orders’ on the Path to Perfection. Each soul was ultimately responsible for their own actions. And so these men and women, leaders of the faithful, had to be sure that what they were doing, and what they were inspiring others to do by virtue of their position, leadership and charisma, was the right thing to do.

The conversation last well into the night but in the end they were happy with their conclusions. Yes, there would be war. They would do all they could to avoid taking lives; should the enemy lay down their weapons and ask clemency, they would not deny them. Should the soldiers of the Bhumi arrive at the doors of Ilfundune and demand its surrender, the faithful of Ilfundune would not turn their fury and frustration against those who had punished them; they would give them every chance to repent and seek forgiveness, not only with words but with actions. The issue of the sorcerer king Ungulungo was more complex however; and even as the sun was coming up, they were still not of one mind. And this was right; each must strive for perfection individually and separate from their neighbor.
 
I still got no orders for Myrde and Boeuf. If I get something within 12 hours, I'll integrate it to the update as best as I can.
The rest of the update is mostly finished.

I'll highlight a few points of the rules which may not have been clear to everyone, and also give some spoilers regarding the udpate:
Heroes can use their own chaomancy or sacrifice, or can use their pretender's chaomancy or faith.
For those of you who are in chaos, remember your heroes also have their own chaomancy. I think there's just one player who actively used this so far. I believe the rest didn't realise they could use each hero's chaomancy in addition to their pretender's (when he's a wizard and in chaos), so I stress it again.

Now let's do some foreshadowing, quoting the rules post:
Chaos still reigns. (...) changing landscapes.
The reddish layer is the influence of Chaos. Means what's below may change unexpectedly.
A kingdom carved out of Chaos can crumble in days if the wizard who maintains it fails to control the power at a crucial moment.

So far, the tentative title of the update - yes, I know my titles are usually poor, sorry about that - is going to be:
Cities and a kingdom meet their end
But then again, the title may be somewhat inaccurate or misleading.
 
This sounds fun; i am excited to see what changes...
 
Damn. I KNEW something bad is going to happen! And it was the least of my risks (at least, I thought it was) too!

Notice, I didn't say "to me". :p
 
UPDATE FIVE
Cities and a kingdom meet their end​


Map:
Spoiler :
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In Heren's Ford, the first human city of Firland, a group of three fire giants has been captured by a poor tailor through some unexplained trick. He claims he caught seven of them at once, but that the others managed to flee in the hills. He sold his captives to the authorities and is now a filthy-rich tailor. The giants have been incorporated in the army.
The Phoenix has moved his armies back from Lisonar to Niljarmund. From there, he has ordered all the lands up to the river in the north to be annexed. This operation was both peaceful and successful, as the mere threat of the large Firland army was enough to convince the stubbornest farmer that resistance would be a bad idea.

In the country around Marignon, some women have fled into the woods. These maenads hold orgies in the wilds. Some unfortunate travellers have been caught by them and a musician has even been dismembered by the frenzied women. The authorities haven't done anything about that however, as more important matters happen in the city itself : One night, a massive pillar of fire falls down from the skies upon the monastery of the Order of the Demiurge, putting fire to the building and killing many monks. As the monks ring bells to call forth what firefighters the city counts, some of the flames turn into man-like shapes and attack them, while the other, more mundane, flames spread to the city. This is the time picked by worshippers of the Eternal Pyre to strike and revolt. They attack the monks, and most of those die, either to the fire or to the insurgents. The city council however rounds his troops to fend off the revolting crowd, and calls all volunteers to fight the conflagration. This results in a terrible battle inside the city. Everyone gets out of their house, trying to save what they can from the fire or to fight for or against the insurgents. The followers of the god of Erynini profit from the confusion, and burn down many houses of notorious opponents of their god. They are, however, disorganised and without a clear figure to lead them. The fire soon gets out of control. The city guard manages to destroy the fire elementals who spawned from the burning pillar, but during this fight they were unable to assist fighting the flames and they suffer many losses. The only solution to save the city is to tear down enough buildings to prevent the fire from reaching the districts which are still spared. The insurgents, armed with makeshift weapons, are led by priests who have no idea how to handle a fight or stop a fire. This results in a night of chaos and flames.
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The Great Fire of Marignon

In the morning, the city is still burning, but the citizens have mostly stopped fighting among themselves. The followers of the Eternal Pyre realise that there is noone able to lead them against armed and resolute men, and they either flee or join other Marignoners to try to fight the conflagration. The fire lasts for four days, burning most of the city, leaving only a few buildings standing. What remains of the city council blames the destruction on Erynini an the Pyre supporters. Not only was the initial flame obviosuly magical, but firebreaks couldn't be created in time because of the subsequent fighting.
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Firebreaks

The result is the death of many Marignoners and the destruction of most buuildings. Many of the survivors flee to the countryside. The city is now only a shadow of its former self, shrinking from maybe ten or twelve thousand inhabitants to a quarter of this figure. Most of the worshippers of the Eternal Pyre left the city for the fields and farms. They say that the city has been punished by their god for its refusal to submit to the true way.

In Erynini proper, the Hearth is completed. It is a magnificent temple, maybe the largest temple complex known so far.
In Drakalor, the Burned Man continues preaching. Most of the population has paid visits to the temple, and the Pyre now has a majority of worshippers in the city.

The king of Alifat preaches a holy war against chaos. He claims chaos is destructive, and it is by nature the opposite of love. Therefore, it must be countered. His armies are to prepare to go south and explore the lands there, but for the moment, they spend months in purification rituals and prayers in order to be ready for their expedition.

In the Ermorcapital of Eldergate, a missionary complex is built, teaching priests to serve in temples and sending the word of Samael across the countryside.
The Ermor army is regrouped and sent south to try to take back Upper Ermor from Arcoscephale. In this city, the Arcoscephale generals split their army. Most of the troops move back to Byzantia, bringing with them the enslaved population of the city. Those too weak to serve as slaves are killed. A few persons manage to hide or flee to nearby villages, but most of the population is enslaved. Meanwhile, general Lykomenes orders his cavalry to hold the place, but they methodically destroy every house and salt the nearby fields. When Samael arrives, having gathered all the troops from northern Redonum and met Seshmek in Eldergate, the bulk of Arcoscephale army has already crossed the old border. Lykomenes orders his troops to harass Ermor soldiers, sending horsemen to hurl javelins at the incoming troops. At first, the only Ermor troops sighted are a century of velites. These have no chance of beating the cavalry with superior mobility and they don't realise yet that Upper Ermor is just an empty husk. They call for reinforcements. The Ermor army finally arrives near the Arcoscephale-held city. When Samael flies over the city at night, she senses something is wrong: a curfew is certainly in place, as no fire can be seen except for a few torches and brasiers on the walls, but there's something more - or less - to the city. She has no time to know exactly what it is, as something coming from above hits her and sends her reeling. Startled, Samael wonders what it may be that struck her. She hears a mad laughter, and sees a dark, winged silhouette flying away. The Arcoscephale soldiers below her also hear this laughter and some cry out warnings. Slings are readied, and stones fly. Startled, not understanding what the enemy is, Samael retreats. In the morning, Ermor legions attack Upper Ermor. Lykomenes and his soldiers run away but the Ermor cavalry from Helven chases them, and Samael herself harasses them until they stop to fight the mounted auxiliaries. Arcoscephale soldiers outnumber the Ermor horsemen, but these only try to buy some time. Samael herself strikes, her sword bursting in flames of cold that freeze horses and men alike all around the place where she hits. Arcoscephale javelins either pass through her as if she didn't exist or only cause minor bruises. Busy fighting the horsemen and the angel, Lykomenes's soldiers are caught by Ermor footmen who arrive on forced march led by Seshmek the necromancer. The general orders a retreat, everyone to save his life, and his soldiers scatter. Ermor javelins fly, Helven auxiliaries run after them and Samael dispatches the fighters she can catch one after the other. When the battle is over, only a few Arcoscephale horsemen have managed to flee. Samael and her troops move to Upper Ermor and find out the city is in ruins and empty. They realise the nearby fields are covered in salt and useless, and that Lykomenes's sacrifice allowed the rest of the army to retreat and join likely reinforcements in Byzantia.
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Samael's sword bursts with frost and drips with blood.

There are two more things however, that they don't realise immediately.
The first one reveals itself a few nights after the battle. One morning, a tent of Ermorian soldiers doesn't answer the daily call. The officer moves in and finds out everyone there to be dead. The soldiers' blood has been pumped out of them, but there is no clue as to who or what caused their death.
The second one is the movement of Gerek of Marverni. The druid has grouped all the troops that fled the previous battle against Ermor and led them northwards through the woods, near the Falaxan border and then east. Going past Redonum, he led them against Helven, which was totally defenseless as all Ermor troops were grouped in Eldergate and upper Ermor. The city fell without fighting.
At this time, a winged man arrives in the now Marvernite city of Helven. He is a High Caelian, a winged creature descended from Yazatas of old time, angelic beings whose kingdom was lost in chaos eons ago. He is a wizard and merchant, and a crafter of ice armors and weapons. Although these threaten to melt in high temperature, they are very efficient in cold climates. He offers to sell one set of armor, shield and sword for the price of 6 gold to the new masters of Helven.
It also happens that, in the Marverni capital of Carnute, a leper colony is created near the city. Many people are grouped there, in quite poor sanitory conditions.

In Ulm, a disease has struck the sheep near Urgad. Hundreds of animals have died and food is becoming scarce in the region. Shepherds leave the region in search of work in the cities, and the poorest are starving. Fortunately, caravans rally every town and soon food stores from Ulm and Argad reach the Urgad marketplace and help resolve the issues.
North of Ulm, a new town is founded. Called Moralfar, this city is inhabited by people who immigrated from the fields and villages around the capital, and local Ulmites, or at least people who don't remember ever living somewhere else. They are led by the Hammerer, who would create saws, nails, spikes and bars on demand, speeding up the completion of houses.

In Machaka, roads are built to facilitate communication and army movement between the cities of Machaka, Ulundi and Umfolongo.

In Bhumi, a Library Arcanum is built in Nagapur. It is a center of magical research where Visvasa the One-Eyed Bhuta coordinates magical research. Meanwhile, the one-eyed undead investigates the murders recently committed in the city. He can't find the killer, despite spending a lot of energy looking through the city. the only clue he finds is a cache where the man used to hide, but it has apparently been abandoned for a long time when it is discovered. On the day of the Purnata ke dina feast, more naga rise from the river, armed and ready to serve the way of Perfection.
In Logapur, an old man has been trying to instill life into a clay statue, without success so far. He's asking the Pavitra Bacce for help in his endeavours.
Madhavali the prophet leads her army to the walls of Machaka. Seeing the archers who defend the city, she orders her troops to move towards Umfolongo. Seeing this, king Ungulungo opens the gates and orders his army to face Bhumi in the fields.
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Machaka and Bhumi armies meet on the battlefield.

This results in the Machaka army routing, as poison clouds strike them, and despite the protection given to them by theri wizard-king. Most hoplites and spiders are killed, and Ungulungo retreats behind his city walls with his archers and the remnants of his infantry and cavalry. Madhavali decides to capitalise on this victory in the field and to take the capital. The Bhumi troops manage to take the capital, but the cornered archers deal more casualties than they did in the fields before. Nonetheless, the Bhumi losses are light compared to those of Machaka. Ungulungo is slain, and the Machakan realm dissolves. Ilfundune revolts, with the Pavitra Bacce appearing to threaten the Machakan loyalists. Gulnops and his men flee the city, moving to Ulundi in the south where they regroup with the few Machakan armies who guarded the place. Ilfundune joins Bhumi, and Umfolongo remains neutral, expecting the Bhumi troops to eventually come and occupy the city.
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Bhumi storm Machaka city.

In Taernsvwyn, temples are built in villages and towns across the country. Soldiers are drilled and trained. Roads and aqueducts are maintained or rebuilt. Workshops are built and markets expanded. Vanholm is being enclosed inside large city walls. Fortifications are also built around large settlements such as Fenberg.

Further south, one of the frost giants who took Myrde's northwestern town has been rambling around and acting crazy. His lord made an example of him and executed him, as he couldn't bear hearing him mutter "Fhtagn" all day long.
A strange woman reaches Myrde coming from chaos lands. She is seeking some sort of refuge in this maddened land. She's a five-foot tall, sturdy woman of indeterminate age who wears a steel armor and bears a finely wrought shield. The first madmen who attack her she hits with a long pole on top of which a banner is furled. The poor attackers are maimed and blinded by the magic of her weapon, and soon even the maddest learn to avoid her. She looks for some kind of authority in the region, to whom she could talk, but can't find anybody. She therefore moves northwards up to the border of C'tis, where the unhealthy climate turns her away. In fact, it looks like the miasma is spreading southward and reaching the northernmost regions of Myrde. The woman eventually moves westwards, trying to reach the Boeuftown of Myrvo which some not too deranged men managed to talk to her about instead of leaders such as depicted below.
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Myrde sanest leaders

The mercenaries who landed near Tlanetzutl in wouthern Myrde also move northwards. They have apparently been offered a contract by C'tis.
The fleet sent south by the lizardmen comes back home bringing maps of the sea and its shores. The fleet followed a swampy coast until they reached a city called Anassy. This place is a vast harbour city inhabited by men who claim to be descended from "abysians", humanoids made of lava. Their leaders are those who are of purest blood, and they prove their claims by walking over burning coals or holding their hand in a fire for several minutes without being burnt.
Meanwhile, the C'tisian army, led by king Ssussaapi, marches against the eastern city of Ellumar. They try to take it, but the defending archers kill both charging chariots and infantry, including the skeleton fighters raised by necromancy. Even though the defending swordsmen are defeated, the lizardmen lost all their longdead warriors, and their charge has lost strength. Ellumar archers keep shooting, and the morale of C'tis breaks. Ssussaapi can't do much to prevent the rout. His army is almost destroyed, but he prays to his god Skenaton, and raises the corpses of his soldiers, with whom he marches back home to lick his wounds and curse his lack of archers.
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C'tis armies fail to take Ellumar.

Falaxan king Hector Alacron II marches along the river in the north-east to the city of Myrbeth, intending to liberate it from its unjust king. The army marches, taking food from farmers on their way as armies are used to doing everywhere in the world. However, the farmers get paid for their wares, and after the army moves past them, they often realise their barn is repaired, or the copper piece they received has turned to gold. Many of those who benefit from such an unexpected event spot a fox looking at them, as if smiling, before he scurries away. The name of Ezio is pronounced many a times in the path of the marching army.
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The siege of Myrbeth.

Falaxan armies attack Myrbeth, but they underestimated the strength of the defenders. Confident in the strength of his bows, Hector brought many archers, but the defenders also use longbows of tremendous efficiency, and the small shields of Hector's swordsmen don't protect them enough. The front ranks of the Falaxan army get slaughtered and, even though Falaxan arrows take a heavy toll among the defenders, soon all Falaxan swordsmen are killed or routed, and the defenders focus their fire on Falaxan longbows. The Falaxan army is not protected by walls, and it is almost destroyed. Hector has no choice but to come back limping into his kingdom.

Heldenthal's Walaruna goes on a diplomatic trip to Shopenwerg, the city northwest along the river. She offers an alliance with Heldenthal, and soon convinces Shopenwerg's king to marry his daughter to Aetherled, king Alrich's brother. She impresses many during her trip.

In Darkswamp, a festival celebrating the resurrection of a local fertility god is held near Lasanak. Faith is decreasing, but the crops seems to grow quicker. Lizard herders finally manage to train some of the beasts for riding and using in military operations (lizard riders light cavalry available to Darkswamp).
Murok and some hunters go out to locate the boar that ravages the region. When they find it, the beast rushes forward and slays the hunters that tried to capture it. While the hunters are distracted, Murok utters arcane words and the creature's legs start melting. They turn into mud, and slowly, from the limbs to the head, the huge boar turns to mud.
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The great boar turning to mud.

In Pythia, Patalnila rulers order the building of a Temple of the Last Vow near the temple of the Bog Serpent.
Emeseran invites the Bog Serpent and his prophet to participate in a healing contest in the city.
Patalnila scouts report that, several miles from the city, a large group of Darkswamp soldiers has established their camp. Patalnilans say the Darkswamp brought too many people with their champion. To which Sakarlisk answers he will only bring a hundred men with him, but nobody said he couldn't station troops a few hours of march away from the city, on his side of the border.
The Bog Serpent and a hundred footmen are reluctantly allowed to move with Sakarlisk to the city, while the rest of the army remains encamped in the north. The Serpent stays outside, near the city walls, comfortably installed in a puddle of mud, while his prophet and his guards go past the gates. Sakarlisk moves to his temple, while Launar stands in front of his. They perform a quick common ritual to ensure no intervention from outside the city. A large throng is gathered in front of them, with a lot of diseased or hurt people among them. The diseased are sent by Emeseran to both healers, who work their magic on them. Miracles are done on both sides, with Launar healing more people, faster. The competition ends with Launar being declared winner, but those of the Darkswamp and the Bog Serpent's faithful murmur that the competition was rigged. At the end of the day, Launar and Emeseran allow Sakarlisk to spend the night in his temple before moving out of the city. This he does, and he leaves with his men on the following morning...
This morning proves to be a strange one indeed. Is it due to the amount of magic performed in that single place in a single day? Is it just chaos which struck randomly in an unprotected city? Is it a trick of Emeseran or the Bog Serpent? Whatever the reason, something strange has happened.
It is not known who was the first to report the weird looking mountain in the southeast. Probably a child whom his mother told to shut up. But when someone finally looks in that direction, he realises that, indeed, the mountain range has subtly changed. When the gates open, Sakraliks and his men march out of the city, followed by the Bog Serpent, and head north. The guards are surprised to see very few of the farmers who usually come to the marketplace arrive in the morning. They think maybe the peasants were afraid that the healing contest would degenerate into a fight, and preferred to stay home a few days before showing up again.
Sakarlisk, the Bog Serpent and his men move northwards, hoping to meet the remainder of their forces. However, after several hours of march, they realise something is wrong. They seem to be lost. It is barely understandable! They know the route, they can't have mistaken the path. Tracking back, they find some of their marks. They move north again, more carefully, and realise that the country is different from what it was a few days before. The path they tried to follow is simply no longer there...
In Pythia, as the day grows, it eventually dawns on everyone that the city has moved, without anyone noticing exactly when, and is now in a far-away, unknown, place. The mountain range in the southeast is subtly different. From the height of the walls, the river north proves to be slightly off from where it should be. The nearby fields are still there, but scouts sent to run and give back news report that, one or two hours of walk away, the land has changed. Everything is normal until this ridge, until that grove, beyond which a field should have been and beyond which there is now only bush or marsh.
Meanwhile, Darkswamp soldiers encamped near the border wait for one other day for their god to come back. When noone shows up, they decide to march south, certain that Emeseran played some trick against them. When they reach the place where Pythia should be, they see only wilderness. After crossing a ridge, the fields have been replaced by bushes and the city is simply not there. The soldiers move south, looking for information, but the peasants are as surprised as they are. Puzzled, Darkswamp soldiers head back to Lasanak, hoping Murok can help them understand the situation.
In Pythia, Emeseran and Launar also realise that the city has moved to another place, far from where it used to be.
This leads to several problems for the inhabitants:
First, the villagers around former Pythia suddenly have no place to sell their wares to, no market with craftsmen to buy from. Fortunately, Patalnila was pushing some money to build some kind of harbour north of Vanas. A town called "Pythian Harbour" quickly grows up on the seashore. Pythians who were not in the city when it moved relocate there, and peasants from the region move there to sell their wares. The merchant fleet which was being built helps a lot but the town remains a small one at best, with important agricultural surroundings.
Second, only the fields nearest Pythia, those very close to the city, accompanied it in its displacement. To make things worse, many of the people healed by Sakarlisk fall ill again. A few of them get healed by Launar, but most miraculously get better, and they all say that it's been Emeseran who has done something to them, rigging the contest. They also accuse Emeseran of poisoning them, of moving the city to run away from the Darkswamp armies. This leads to lots of unrest and the citizens become hysterical. After another day, food shortages start to become an issue and Emeseran has to order the granaries reserved in case of sieges to be opened.
North of the new location of Pythia, the Bog Serpent and Sakarlisk understand too that they are lost in a place that is totally alien to them, with only a hundred men in unknown lands. A man eventually reaches them, coming from the city and explaining the situation there: Emeseran, Launar and three or four hundred soldiers to keep the city sane. Those who oppose them are arrested and put to jail. Many citizens want to flee, mostly those faithful to the Bog Serpent.

In Vanas, Lord Logar is oblivious to the situation of his deity. He has other matters to deal with, and orders the merchant who sacrificed children to be arrested. He sends troops to attack the wizard wannabe. The assault upon the mansion is short and bloody. The merchant hid behind his mansion walls, but the gate is easily brought down and the guards are not numerous enough to protect him. When the thugs hired by the merchant realise that Logar is striking them with all his might, they run away. The merchant is arrested and executed. His head adorns a pike planted in front of his mansion, which starts being demolished. However, Logar soon has other more problems to worry about than the merchant's legacy.

In Mallitain, Cassiopeia uses her magic to protect Ulanbar from chaos and she funnels the powers of chaos into the erection of a big monument in honor of the Pantocrator. At the feet of this statue, the angel teaches about free will and critical reasoning. She says that the Pantocrator's grace lives in us all, and will protect the city from chaos, and that the statue is a mark of this promise.
Meanwhile, Jack Churchill the Giantslayer groups all his troops together except for a small city guard and marches upwards along the river until he reaches the mountains. There, he follows paths that scouts have charted for him and crosses the passes to arrive on the other side of the mountain range, and then proceeds downwards towards Vanas. As he moves into Patalnila, diseases strike his men, but he uses his magic to heal them as they go, and separates the unhealthy from the rest to avoid contagion.
When Mallitain scouts spot the first Vanas patrol, they are already well in the valley and marching towards the city. The patrol runs to warn Logar, who organises his defense with the best of his resources. These are, unfortunately, quite limited, as most troops are in Pythia. He sends messengers to the city, hoping that Emeseran will get the warning and can bring back troops to defend the homeland. He doesn't know the messengers will never reach their destination, but Logar is realistic, and he knows that the battle would likely be over before the messenger arrives.
Mallitain troops progress prudently, making heavy use of scouting. Their numerous cavalry find that there is no Patalnilan army in the region save for a few skirmishers who try to harass them. Despite their knowledge of the terrain, Patalnilans are unable to seriously slow down the enemy. Mallitain troops are more numerous, have a lot of scouts, better bows, horses, and bought some local guides with more money than they would ever see in their entire life. Patalnilan archers eventually run and hide inside Vanas. Seeing the region is mostly undefended, Jack decides to attack the city. He sets up a battering ram to breach the city walls.
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Mallitain use a battering ram to enter Vanas.

Mallitain soldiers storm the fort. Their front ranks bear shields that protect them from arrows, and behind them come claymore wielders. Behind them, archers, both on foot and mounted, rain arrows upon the defenders. Vanas guardsmen, armed with javelins, and the lords of Vanas, lycanthropes clad in armor and wielding swords and spears, defend their city. Their position is stronger, but they lack missile weapons, are less numerous and, to make things worse, their morale slowly breaks as Jack Churchill taunts them and performs magic to enrage some and panic the rest. Patalnilans repel the first wave of shielded infantry, but the claymore wielders follow and, encouraged by the songs of their bards, these cut through the lycanthropes who break and rout. Lord Logar resists the fear and tries to assemble his men around him, and he cuts down several attackers with his scythe, but even he is eventually overpowered. A spear hits him, and then a sword slices along his right arm. Logar barely holds his weapon now, but keeps fighting. The grip on his handle loosens as blood flows down the shaft of the scythe, and as he parries another blow, he loses his grasp. A Mallitain swordsman profits from this and gets past his defense, splitting his skull.
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Mallitain forces use skill and magic to panic Vanas defenders.

At the end of the day, Vanas falls to Mallitain. The most courageous nobles died in the battle, Logar is dead. Patalnilans reluctantly acknowledge Jack's victory and his control of the city. When words come of the situation in the north and the unexpected disappearance of Pythia, the last sparks of revolt in Vanas disappear, although a few refugees flee to Pythian Harbour.

Patalnila is now a splintered kingdom, its mainland stuck between Malllitain and the Darkswamp, and its main city stranded alone in the unknown, with a hostile god lost near it.
 
Great update, sorry for no orders; I didn't have time, you got my email. Hopefully.

Things are looking interesting. I like miasma in C'tis. :b
 
Excellent update. The four armed sacred child is pleased.

To the Officers and Soldiers Loyal to Gunlops,
From Āvāza, Voice of the Faithful,


Seize Gunlops and deliver him to us. Declare your loyalty to the Pavitra Baccē and spare your lives. Your families live amongst us- in Machaka and Ilfundune- they want to be reunited with you- healthy and whole. For their sake, grant us our one demand and lay down your weapons. Return to your homes.

To the People of Ulundi,
From Āvāza, Voice of the Faithful,


You know Gunlops to be a tyrant and an oppressor, a curse upon his people. Let him not be a curse upon you also. Gunlops officers have no funds to pay his soldiers anymore. They will seize what they can from you to give it to them to maintain loyalty. Do not let them. Ultimately his soldiers are loyal to their pay and for now, you are the paymasters. Consider this. Hoard your goods- hide them well. Bribe those officers you feel might be most receptive, seize control of Gunlops soldiers from him. Resist Gunlop's tyranny; know that we are coming to your aid and will dispose of his horrible regime. We must... for we are well acquainted with his evil.
 
Damn those vampires.
 
I also have heavy infantry in Vanas, but they are not spoken of anywhere.

If you look at the picture of the Vanas battle, the guys with big swords and horned helmets to the right are your heavy infantry. These heavy infantry are also the only archers you had, the light infantry being javelineers, so mentions of the archers mean those heavy infantry who have bows.
 
wow, that worked out far better then expected. Sorry about that Terrance, but I take biowarfare very seriously.
 
Wait.

Heavy Infantry Archers?
 
From Pythian Harbor
To Mallatain


We are simply refugees from the ravaging of gods. Can we maintain peace between us?
 
OOC: Wow. That was more insane than anything I could have imagined. For the record, I did not teleport the city. Good Update.
To Pythia:
Surrender your grip on the city, or at least release its loyal population and we can disscus how to bring this place back home. Otherwise, I shall have to intervene. I expected you would do something foul, but not on such a grand and confusing scale, which harms yourself as much as I. Are you mad, suicidal or just a victim of the same chaos?
- Sakarlisk
 
To Sakarlisk

Firstly, I have won, therefore I shall keep my grip. As for the population loyal to you, I see no reason why they should wander from the walls to be preyed upon by the outside world.
I am certainly amenable for the establishment of somekind of joint rule until we either bring Pythia back to where it belongs or establish a civilization in this desolate place, and a city for you, I suppose. We can set aside a reasonably-sized quarter of the city for you.
I have no idea what happened either for the Chaos strikes randomly and without warnings. We are both victims, and instead of fighting, we have to tolerate each other until we can sort out this mess.

Of course, if you wish to try to assault the walls of Pythia can recapture the entire city, you may try.
 
Wait.

Heavy Infantry Archers?
Armies: LI (javelineers), HI (spearmen, sword&shield, some bows), LC (lycanthropic archers), C (armored wereanimals with riders)
He has some bowmen among his heavy infantry, but that's not their main weapon. They are mostly melee troops, but they can also be used as support/range if needs be.
 
More precisely, Patalnila heavy infantry:
Terrance888 said:
-Melee Infantry 1: “Kurlaverti” Levies of Spearmen to hold the line.
-Melee Infantry 2: “Danaverti” Men-At-Arms armed with Swords and Shields. They stiffen the line as needed around various “Noble” units.
-Melee Infantry 3: “Danadaras” Noblemen on foot. Armed like Men-At-Arms, but also with bows and the skills to use them. Placed at crucial areas of the battleground.
 
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