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End of the Beginning of the End

Discussion in 'Imperium OffTopicum' started by EQandcivfanatic, Jul 17, 2015.

  1. Golden1Knight

    Golden1Knight Emperor

    Joined:
    Apr 27, 2013
    Messages:
    1,268
    Location:
    Behind you
    A Really Unyielding Tower

    The crowd awaited eagerly, after all, rarely the Lord Commander was seen outside his headquarters. Surrounded by his lieutenants, the tall armored man began to speak:

    -"Hear me, my dear subjects, because I bring grave news. The forces that I sent to capture the Unyielding Tower were destroyed, against all odds. There was only one survivor, of whom I will speak later. For now, what you need to know is that I, Lord Commander, vow to avenge those who have fallen, not now, but in the near future, when we get best prepared. The next expedition will be led personally by me, and I tell you that I will enter that tower and bring the heads of those who dared to face the Knights. But how, you may be wondering? Why a new expedition would succeed if the former failed so tragically? For two reasons:"

    -"First, let's fight fire with fire. I intend to bring some wizards with me to face those who live there. Yes, dealing with magic is immoral and dangerous, but it has its advantages, after all, it is known that we need to use the poison to make the antidote."

    -"Second, we have a witness. Nibor Yelskol, the famous Survivor. If you are present here, or hear about that message, I beg you to come to us and report what you saw inside the tower, in order to facilitate our next offensive. Otherwise, I declare you to be known as a coward who preferred to flee than to fall in battle honorably. Do not do it for me, do not do it for the Knights, but do it for the people of Arasatos. Clean your honor, report on what you saw in the Tower, and will be free to live the rest of your life in peace."
     
  2. Terran Empress

    Terran Empress Hornet

    Joined:
    Mar 30, 2011
    Messages:
    2,024
    Gender:
    Female
    Location:
    Hallow Nest
    Hey, sorry EQ, but i'm not having a good time with this, really liked my faction, but not having a good time, can't really think of stuff to write, not really interacting with anyone, and ultimately orders take a bit, school's starting back up, I kinda want to cut down my time, and focus on the games i'm having the most fun in, so sorry to say this but dropping.
     
  3. Shadowbound

    Shadowbound Scourge of God

    Joined:
    Mar 4, 2007
    Messages:
    4,007
    Windgard: Shadowbound
    Leader: Toruviel, Mistress of the Mountain (Politician)
    Race: Elves
    Faction Trait: Adventurous
    Capital: Windguard (Elven Enclave; Zone 96)
    Structures: School, Fortifications (2), Lookout Tower, Well (3), Farming Equipment (3), Lumber Mill, Forge
    Population: 522
    Education: General
    Gold: 78,200
    Food: 943 (+450)
    Water: 493 (+310)
    Lumber: 50 (+50)
    Ore: 0
    Magicka: 777
    Weapons: 140 Swords, 80 Spears
    Animals and Transports: None
    Soldiers: 38 Footmen, 41 Archers, 9 Clerics, 25 Mages

    Spoiler :
    Construction

    250 lumber from Lost Town

    Use Magicka to create 150 ore

    Build a well with 300 lumber and 150 ore

    Hire 15 mages and 11 clerics

    Magi

    500 magicka create a firestorm to attack the Dryads and deflect their assault. However, with this much magic, there's a risk of losing control. So we're going to enhance the firestorm by conjuring it from the funeral pyres of our dead comrades who fell in battle against the Dryads. We will invoke their spirits to guide the fires to strike at our foes and protect our community. This can't possibly go wrong.

    Harvesting

    Ideally, in the aftermath of the fire we should have some respite from Dryad attacks, so send the population out to harvest more wood.
     
  4. Immaculate

    Immaculate unerring

    Joined:
    Jan 22, 2003
    Messages:
    7,574
    The deep tunnels

    The deep tunnels, with their high ceilings and wide corridors, were an ominous and lonely place that left Xochitiotzin feeling small. In the colorless palette of a dwarf’s dark-vision, the stone tunnels are pale, cleanly cut, smooth stone. Cut many centuries ago by ancestors now long gone, these deep corridors had the feeling of forgotten bone.

    Xochitiotzin’s soft footsteps are silent, as if afraid to raise a sound should they disrupt the rest of ancient ghosts. And indeed she had already passed several ancient skeletons, their bones pale against the pale stone, white on white, forgotten. Some are dwarves, her brethren from a time when they were the Weißkamm. Others are demonic, twisted corpses of winged jaguars or wickedly clawed and toothed bats, their forms wracked by dark shadows of banefire now long dead. These are the corpses of the Mictl invaders and the demons the mountain prince summoned itself after its corruption.

    The corpses make her sad and she remembers a time when she was called Sieglinde and her brother, the Baron Clemens von Eicknach was ruler of these vast halls. Once these halls would have been busy with the sound of wagons and specially bred mules, ore moving up and timber moving down. Precious and beautiful true elemental earth was once pried from these tunnels and brought before the Kaiser Hanz Von Lubt-Sigmaringen himself. Today they are empty except for the occasional forgotten skeleton. Her clan is a shadow of what it once was. Weißkamm, the white ridge, is dead and only Eztli, the Bone Covenant, remains.

    The traitor regent has damned us all.

    Her thoughts seem alien to herself, as if, somehow, the voice of another. But of course the traitor regent had damned them all. Everyone knows this. This was something they had all brought upon themselves. They could have died, gutted from chin to navel by the long claws of the Mictl demons, or they could live, if only they would accept the bloody corruption that the spirit of the mountain had become. And so they had bent a knee, chosen survival over dwarven honor. Her brother, the baron, and the honorable exiles, had chosen honor over security and had walked into the weirding strangeness of the magewar wilds. They were presumed dead, and yet hope was like a flame that burned like half-forgotten embers deep in the cooling heart of the deep foundries. And now she walks these halls alone.

    Right.

    The hallway branches and she turned right. She has never been here before but somehow knows which path to take. The air is different here, cooler somehow. An elf or a human would not have noticed but for dwarf senses, the tunnels are unmistakably different. Less dry.

    The tunnel come to a wide staircase and the ceiling soars into a dome above. A room opens up before her, its distances lost in a darkness even her dwarf-blood eyes cannot penetrate. A vast pool of clear cold water lays before her. The cisterns.

    She had been to the cisterns only a few weeks ago but had come no doubt from the far side. The view from these steps was not much different than those from the distant side and she knew, from having watched the cistern filled with imported waters that the steps led far down, scores of yards or more to what was recently a dusty bare floor. At the time, she had not noticed another tunnel entrance.

    Down.

    She steps onto the stairs, her feet light and after only four steps she comes to the edge of the cool waters. Men, women and children had died only a few short months ago in the thirst

    Thirst of the Dry Bones

    …died only a few short months ago in the Thirst of the Dry Bones, and here lay a vast bounty, unimaginably plentiful, serene, still, unknowing of their deaths and misery. Certainly these peaceful waters were untouched as she had been by Khanadha’s sacrifice. The minister had been chained to the great stalactite and his blood spilled to feed demonic magics, a

    just and fitting end

    just and fitting end to a… a

    man who choose greed and lust for gold before the good of his people

    fitting end to a man who choose greed and lust for gold before the good of his people.

    Xochitiotzin steps lightly into the waters, he thin slippers quickly wet through with waters startlingly and suddenly cold.

    Suddenly a voice speaks out from the dark depths of the flooded chamber, booming and echoing without direction or space, “Who’s there?”
     
  5. gay_Aleks

    gay_Aleks communism will win.

    Joined:
    Feb 20, 2013
    Messages:
    10,809
    Location:
    Nightvale, US
    The sun was setting down on Thedas, it's final rays shining into the Tower, one of the few standing buildings amongst the once-grand suburban ruins. This was favourable for the young mage named Eidrian, a Conjureror, for that what he was hunting for would appear only in the darkness of the night.

    He was one of the mages that were sent to fight against the aggression of the Shu State, although the fact that large amounts of food and water were the real reason. Of course, he smothered the poor souls who decided to foolishly stand against them with fire and ember. But his real passion, unlike most mages out there, wasn't just to burn people to crisp with a nicely-aimed fireball. No, in the world of magicka, there were creatures. Ones desiring to be summoned.

    Even before The End, there were mighty mages who could summon elementals, beings made out of the combination of forces of Nature and magicka. Alas, the secrets to this craft are either lost, or their few practioners left alive are squatting in a damp cave, barely living.

    But the End had an interesting effect on the world of magicka. To be exact...it was unleashed. Amounts of magicka, unseen, and probably for a good reason were spread through the world of Gensin. Why not that some of the creatures there slipped out and even now, roam free?

    While most of his colleagues, so as to speak, were satisfied to pulverize things different than a bunch of walking dead, the battle never really interested him. What however fascinated him were rumours. Something about Shades. Eating whole men and leaving nothing but bare bones. While the possibility of this being specimen of the legendary Elementals was little to low, that didn't mean that they couldn't be tamed. With such a weapon...nobody would take touch us! Or me!

    As his fellow mages rested, others observed suspiciously the food being loaded (mages are the paranoid sort.), he went out in the Highlands. While the possibility of encountering Shu remnants did partially exist, he was, in the end, a mage. And what he was looking for was probably much more dangerous than some crazy man with 400 men supporting him and a desire for conquest.

    He searched and searched, yet to no avail. He investigated the locations where supposedly the Shades have hit (villagers are generally very unfriendly to outsiders, but his mage robes commanded respect, and his fellows did save him, no?), but the stories repeated one thing "in the middle of the night", "nothing but bones", "fear them". Exhausted, he went back to his quarters; tomorrow he was going to leave back for the good old Tower alongside the other mages.

    Something however was making him feel...anxious, however. The shadows were wrong. They were moving from place to place..and when he went to see what's wrong, they were gone. It is a possibility that someone was, indeed, foolish enough to play a prank on a mage (but beware, the mage might return you the favour, and then there's the devil to pay).

    This gave him no sleep. He was constantly shifting in bed, thinking. What could it be? Was his mind playing tricks? Is it a vision, a trick of his eyes? Eventually, he did fall asleep...But the last thing he saw was a shadow coming over him, doing nothing but observing.

    They were real. And they liked magicka and magic users, apparently, otherwise his fellow colleagues would be looking in bewilderment at his skeleton and permanently ruined hat (the worst thing that can happen to a mage). It probably fed on the natural magicka containing in each human, which is why some less-civilized nations and states sacrifice their populations to make it rain or whatever, but a magic user can direct his power and control the Shade.

    Of course, nobody would believe him. "Conjuring" was merely the kind word used in magic circles for "shamanism", and his hobby was rather discredited for deviating from the usual ways of burning, freezing, and generally evaporating people from the material world via the means of magicka. But as they were going on the long way from the town of the Followers back home, he couldn't help but see the Shades following him. Or forest animals. Who knows?'

    And this leads us, or him, or someone, to now. The sun was long gone as he was passing those thoughts through his mind. Now, he had a thing to do, to hunt for the Shade. Or the Shades. Or for the bloody bastard who will be very, very sorry if he lied to a mage.
     
  6. christos200

    christos200 Never tell me the odds

    Joined:
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    Male
    Location:
    EU, Greece, Athens


    - Yang Kang, King of Shu

    'Well, not everyone can be a great conqueror, I guess', Yang Kang thought while returning to the city after his defeat. This time, he had led by himself the soldiers on the battlefield. While his armor did not look impressive, his speech was:

    Yang Kang had managed to lure the enemy to battle and had deployed his army in an ingenious way: strong flanks and weak center. The formation looked like a crescent at first. But, with the fake collapse of the center, it was hoped that it would transform from a crescent to a giant 'V' which would entrap the Followers. It was an ingenious tactic. Yang Kang was sure of victory. But, he had not considered a few factors.

    Firstly, the numerical superiority of the enemy. He was of course prepared to face a larger enemy, but he could have never thought that so many soldiers could be gathered by the Followers and their ally, the Conclave. Secondly, his plan was made with the assumption that the war would be fought, primarily at least, between footmen. Instead, the enemy relied on archers and, most incredible of all, to mages. Yang Kang had never expected that the Conclave would ally with the Followers nor that mages would be involved in the battle.

    The battle was complete disaster; Yang Kang was barely able to flee alive from the battlefield. Now, he looked tired, disappointed and shamed. He was forced to make a peace deal with the Followers. "A wise ruler knows when he is defeated and when he has to stop", he said before his Ministers.

    Now, he was in his throne room, sitting alone on the Jade Throne. Sighing. No one, neither Minister not commoner, had dared question his leadership. He faced, at least for now, no threat to his throne. But he himself could not help but feel that his reign had been a failure. What had he done for his country? That was the question he asked himself.

    His father had left him a prosperous Kingdom. He led it to ruin and defeat. The lumber production remained minimal. Ore production was nonexistent. The Kingdom sure was wealthy, but it's resources were diminishing. On a personal level, his failure with Dong Ying had cost him a lot. He had failed both as a King and as a person.

    But he was not going to give up yet. Despite all the hardship, despite all his failures and disappointments, despite the destruction, he would lead his Kingdom to greatness. This defeat taught Yang Kang many valuable lessons which he would use to rebuild the Shu Empire.

    At once, he called his most loyal Ministers, Cao Bi and Huang Di, to the court. Once they arrived, they kowtowed thrice and shouted: "Long live your Majesty!!"

    "Minister Cao Bi, you will be responsible for the rearmament of the Shu army. I want the number of soldiers of the army to return to the levels it was before the battle!"

    "Yes, your Majesty!", Cao Bi shouted.

    "I want the army to be stronger than ever before. Build new defensive buildings and buy crossbows, so we can form a regiment of archers!"

    "I will do as you command, your Majesty!"

    Yang Kang then turned his attention to Huang Di: "Dear Minister, I authorize you to massacre any potential enemies to the crown. Use as much violence as you want and execute as many people as you must, but the stability must be restored. Otherwise, I will have you head hanged on the city gates!"

    "Yes, your Majesty!", Huang Di replied, terrified.

    Yang Kang was no longer the kind and naive boy King. He had become brutal, cynical and ready to use terror and dirty means to remain on the throne. He had to, in order to survive to the throne. He was also less annoyed about handling state affairs. When he was younger, he would complain. But not any longer. His transformation began with his romantic failure with Dong Ying; depressed, he sought to spend more time on state affairs. Soon, he was becoming more and more cruel and, as he was reading the biographies of great men from the past, far more ambitious. When the war started, the transformation was complete. Now, Yang Kang was willing to even use terror and violence to maintain his throne.

    All opposition was to be crushed. The internal enemies would be massacred. The defenses strengthened. The army would be enlarged. The wealth of Kingdom used to restore it to it's former glory. And then, Yang Kang would try once again to complete his ambition of Imperial Dominance.
     
  7. Immaculate

    Immaculate unerring

    Joined:
    Jan 22, 2003
    Messages:
    7,574
    Dwarves Sink More Easily

    Dwarves sink more easily than humans or elves, something to do with their bones he’d guess. And so it was relatively easy, once his mind came to accept that he wouldn’t drown, for Tlachinolli to simply lay upon the submerged floor of the cistern. Prince Illearth’s imp had taught him a simple spell he called ‘unending breath’ and so with a shiver of magicka he could find nearly perfect solitude and quiet.

    The cistern is huge, hundreds of yards across, and maybe dozens of yards deep. Right now it is nearly full and so Tlachinolli lays peacefully, not breathing, in its depths. The imp has wandered off, bored by his serenity and eager to sow its little evils, and so his thoughts are his own, his solitude complete.

    Despite his dwarf-blood vision, all around him is a murky grey. The walls of the cistern can be discerned in the distant depths but only barely and not with any distinctiveness. The surface above him seems distant, a flat grey sheen in a grey world.

    His ears hear nothing. There was no wind to give the surface waves. The foundries and engines of Eztli are too distant to shake this sanctuary. Alone.

    Of course Tlachinolli wasn’t ever really alone. He supposes he is like most of the dwarves of the Bone Covenant, plagued by memories and ghosts of memories, by shame, doubt, and sorrow.

    Perhaps without the deals he had made there would be no dwarves in these halls anymore, just Mictl magelings and their demonic servants and he took some comfort in that thought. Certainly he wasn’t alone in clutching at survival as justification for his actions but in the depths of the cistern bottom somehow that justification seems distant and the faces of the dead so much more real. Emmerich, who had been high priest of the White Ridge once… dead when Tlachinolli smudged the wards of containing. Khanadha, who was blood-sacrificed that the dwarves of Eztli not rise against one another after the Thirst of the Dry Bones… dead. Their faces, their voices, these are the only company in the depths of the cistern. He rubs the scar that runs across his chin, that marks his shame and leaves him with only half a beard. It is a reminder of the banefire that had burned but not consumed him, him, the only one that horrible conflagration had spared. They said banefire was the fire of hell, that its will was that of the damned and it burned flesh and soul alike. Perhaps he had been spared because he had no soul.

    There was movement at the cistern’s surface. Someone has come to its hidden depths. Tlachinolli pushes himself from the bottom and with decisive strokes swims for the surface. Before he breaks the cistern’s calm veneer he looks around to see what has disturbed him. The entry to the cavern is empty but when he searches further he sees a distant entrance, no longer used, and silhouetted against the darkness of these tunnels he sees a slight feminine figure.

    He breaks the surface and calls, “Who’s there?”

    His voice booms and echoes without direction, and after the stillness and solitude, it feels louder, more intrusive than cannon-blast.
     
  8. Immaculate

    Immaculate unerring

    Joined:
    Jan 22, 2003
    Messages:
    7,574
    Light Explodes Across the Cavern

    Light explodes across the cavern and the contemplative serenity and quiet peace of the deep cistern is banished along with the shadows.

    In the light of her spell, Xochitiotzin doesn’t need to answer the man’s question. Illuminated by magicka, her face is instantly recognized by the regent Tlachinolli. She answers anyway, “It is I my liege, Lady Xochitiotzin.”

    Beautiful

    His whispers his response to the imp's telepathy, “I know,” hoping she will not hear him. Again, he could simply think his answer to the imp but he does not want him intruding in his mind anymore than he already does. She is beautiful, slight in a way few dwarves are, dressed in a thin cotton dress embroidered with patterns of feathers, serpents, jaguars, and bats in a style that was a distinctive combination of Mictl jungles and dwarven geometry. Her hair, dark and shining, is plaited and pulled into two long tresses. Her eyes are green and flicker with the reflection of her wizardry. Still, it is strange to hear the imp commenting on her appearance. Its motives are often false, his voice a manipulative purr, and so Tlachinolli is suspect. Still, she is beautiful.

    The swimmer mumbles something low that Xochitiotzin doesn’t quite hear. The regent appears as he never has to her before. He swims in only a modest undergarment, his chest, arms, and legs bare.

    He is only a man.

    He is only a man she realizes, and though perhaps the downfall of her people and the exile of her brother lies with him.

    He is doing the best he can for the clan. A terrible weight rests on his shoulders.

    She had never quite seem him before as she does now. A man, not a traitor, not a symbol of their downfall, only a man, and on his shoulders the terrible guilt of his actions and of the survival of the clan. His beard, a dwarf’s symbol of honor, is horribly mangled, the scar tissue of the banefire an angry red scar upon a face otherwise quite handsome she suddenly realizes.

    The two haunted dwarves who had only sought stillness and quite, solitude and serenity stare quietly at one-another, blinking in the sudden light and seeing the other in a way they hadn’t before, perhaps both realizing there is much more to the other than they had thought.

    Xochitiotzin dims her wizard-light and Tlachinolli swims towards her, his movements sure and clean, comfortable in the water the way few dwarves are.

    “I’ve never been in those tunnels,” he says, his voice much lower now, and yet somehow still eerily magnified and distorted by the domed ceiling and deep waters.

    “I’d never been in them before either,” she answers and she sits upon the steps, both feet in the water, comfortable in a way she hadn’t been during her quiet solitary wandering. She traces a finger through the water and watches the ripples as they follow, “What were you doing here?”

    He takes a long time to answer, treading water and staring at the ceiling, his contemplative mood not completely evaporated, “I think maybe I was looking for something.”

    I was looking for something too.

    She watches him tread water, comfortable in the deep waters, “I was looking for something too.”

    “Did you find it?” he asks, his voice low.

    Yes.

    She smiles, a hint of mischief, “Yes. Yes, I think I did.”

    Her smile is disarming and the haunted regent, who sought the company of memories and ghosts of memories is not sure, at first, how to respond. Slowly a smile comes to his face, “Yes. Maybe I found what I was looking for too.”
     
  9. TheLastJacobite

    TheLastJacobite No Commies

    Joined:
    Mar 6, 2007
    Messages:
    1,707
    Location:
    Around
    The southern area of the Icy Finger was nothing like the north. The northern part was a flat land, dotted with stands of hardy fir trees and the occasional low rolling hills. Herds of mammoth wandered about, grazing on the trough scrub grass while bears and saber cats preyed on anything they could. In the far north around Rolloth’s Vigil, large forests provided a windbreak for both man and animal. Near the sea, craggy cliffs jutted defiantly into the angry, cold sea. The south was a whole different story. The rolling hills and tundra gave way to deep chasms and high peaks. Patrols could walk for hours in one direction to suddenly come upon a vast impassable canyon and have to turn around. So far, none had dared climb any of the mountains as there seemed no point in such a pointless endeavor. As always, no other civilized folk had been found nor had anything of value been mapped.

    Jem Calithan sat with his eyes closed while resting his back against a rock. The nineteen man patrol he was a part of had just made its way to the end of one of the numerous vistas that overlooked a huge canyon as it snaked its way down into the southern reaches. It had been a long and weary slog, having to lug all their equipment on makeshift travois due to a continuing lack of beasts of burdens. The rest of the patrol was spread out around a small hillock at the point of the vista. Jem would have preferred to sit with the rock between him and the others to drown out the noise and grab some sleep, but the wind made that impossible. So he sat wrapped in his saber cat cloak listening to the moan of the wind and what had to be one of the dumbest arguments he had ever heard.

    “I’m telling you Harry the ground is squishier over here!”

    “How could the ground be squishy Norman?! There’s ice as far as the eye can see!”

    “I don’t know, that’s why I think it’s weird! Probably something to do with magic!”

    They’d been going on for almost half an hour now. As an amateur geologist, Norman had immediately twigged to the fact that ground on this small hillock was in some way different from that around them. He had walked up and down the hillock, occasionally jumping up and down at various points before reporting his finding to the unimpressed Harry. Norman was certain that this hillock had to have some sort of magical properties that lay just beneath the surface. The discovery of the squishy spot had led to an intriguing conversation between the two as evidenced by the fact that they kept talking in circles. Jem, like the rest of the patrol, did his best to drown out the noise by listening to the howl of the wind. The canyon below made it echo and whirl and it seemed to multiply the deeper down the canyon it went.

    “You see Harry, if you stand here and knock your spear butt” Norman said standing at the base of the hillock and following his own instructions “It makes a muffled thump like it would if you did that on any of the other ground.” Jem focused on the wind and thought he picked up a subtle noise change as it blew to the hillock.

    Norman then started to climb the hill a bit. “If you do it here, it sounds different. Like if you had knocked it against a rock.” Jem tried his best to focus on the strange noises on the wind seemed to be making. It seemed to pick up speed and volume as it whipped around the hill when it should be slowing down.

    “Then, up here, if you knock it against this rock here, it sounds hollow.” The knocking of the spear against the rock near the pinnacle of the hill seemed to disrupt the wind somehow. Jem knew he was missing something, he just couldn’t figure out what it was.

    “And then, we come to the squishy part. I wonder what it is.” Norman had returned to the start of the conversation and Harry obliged him by responding with the same question he'd already asked.

    “Well, what makes it squishy?” Harry asked for the third time.

    “You know what? I think I’ll find out.” Norman declared, boldly breaking the cycle. He switched his spear to point down and began moving around the top of the hill searching for the squishy spot. Jem moved a hand up to his face to move a snowflake off his eyelid. He suddenly stopped, feeling the position of his nose and eyes to the rest of his face. His eyes shot open and shouted just in time to see Norman drive his spear into the squishy spot. The entire hill rumbled in a deafening roar.

    A massive arm rose up from the base of the “hill” and swatted both Norman and Harry off the nearby cliff. But that also snapped off the tip of the spear into the eye of the formerly sleeping and now very awake and very angry Ice Giant. What Jem had thought was a rocky outcropping he was leaning against suddenly moved and revealed itself as a truly massive foot. He threw himself off and scrambled out of the way as the giant rose up. It towered over the landscape, almost as tall as the Mage Tower back in Rolloth’s Vigil. As it stumbled around it inadvertently stepped on a clump of other soldiers who had been stunned motionless by shock. With another deafening roar, it angry tried to remove the spear that was lodged in its eye, but in doing so continued to drive it deeper and make it even angrier.

    “Attack!” Lt. Millner, the patrol’s leader, suddenly remembered himself and began trying to rally the troops. He and the rest of footmen charged forward, spears at the ready. They advanced to the back of one of the massive legs and began stabbing at it to no avail. The giant’s tough skin made it nearly impossible to penetrate. The assault temporarily distracted the huge creature and it turned around to see what was tickling its ankle. As it did, it move the leg back that the footmen were assaulting, knocking them down and smearing them into the snow. As it angrily searched for something else to vent its frustration on, Jem’s fellow archers obliged it. They began firing volleys of arrows at the giant’s back to the same affect the footman’s assault had had. Puzzled once again and growing angrier by the minute, the giant turned back around. Finally having a target to attack in swung down its massive fists and pounded the archers into the ground, roaring all the while. Jem was on the verge of panic. The rest of the patrol had been killed in a matter of minutes and most of them by accident. The giant was impervious to all their attacks. Nothing had hurt it expect…

    With a dawning realization, Jem knew what he had to do. Grabbing his bow he quickly moved behind the giant while it continued pound the remains of the archers, making the ground shake and heave with every slam of its fists. He quickly situated himself a few hundred feet away, nocked an arrow and yelled.

    “Hey! Hey over here you big idiot! You forgot someone!”

    The ice giant turned around, its one good red eye filled with malice. It rose up to its full height. Jem took a deep breath and raised his bow. He’d only have one shot at this. The giant roared again and charged forward, covering the distance he had put between them with frightening speed. Holding his breath, he drew back the bowstring, took aim and fired. The arrow soared straight and true, right into the giant’s remaining eye.

    Jem dove out of its path, narrowly missing being crushed by one of its blood covered feet. Blinded, the creature continued to charge forward trying to kill its tormentor and in doing so, it stumbled right over the edge of the cliff. It let out a long howl that ended with another ground shaking thud that Jem could feel tremors of hundreds of feet up. Pulling himself up out of the snow, he made his way to the edge of the cliff. Sure enough, the giant was an unmoving speck in a snow covered canyon down at the bottom. As he was about to leave, Jem saw some of the snow piles moving. To his horror, he saw dozens of other Ice Giants rising up across the area. Taking a quick count, he turned, gathered what supplies he could, said a silent prayer for his fallen comrades and headed back home to tell the others what he had found.

    Anmari Collective Orders
    Spoiler :
    Challenge: Snuffles the Bear will be left alone. Enough of the local wildlife is already trying to kill us; we don’t need to anger the only animal in the whole area that wants to live with us peaceful. There will be no Bear Riders and there will be no further attempts to train him short of what the hunter he has bonded with (Jacob Weiss) chooses to do, which he may do in his own manner.

    Use 50 Lumber to craft 10 Longbows

    Sell 200 lumber for 60,400 gold. Use magic to ensure that the gold is real.

    If we had an issue with our water supply, use the gold to buy enough water to last us the rest of the year.

    If we do not have a problem with our water supply, spend 1,680 gold to purchase 30 horses.

    Use the 15 Longbows, 15 Spears, 15 horses and 3000 gold to train 15 Skirmishers. We will use the Skirmishers to extend our range and ensure that our people are not attacked bringing wood and other supplies back to the Vigil.

    Use the other 15 horses as beasts of burden to haul wood and food.

    Continue to patrol in the northern parts of Rolloth’s Vigil. Our forces will avoid the southern reaches as we don’t want any more run ins with any Ice Giants.

    Have our people (under guard) continue to harvest the surrounding lumber, fish the shores and melt snow for water.
     
  10. Seon

    Seon Not An Evil Liar

    Joined:
    Jan 20, 2009
    Messages:
    8,092
    Location:
    Not Lying through my teeth
    By the way EQ, I sent my hero unit with a LOT of supporters. What happened to them?
     
  11. EQandcivfanatic

    EQandcivfanatic Zailing Captain Retired Moderator

    Joined:
    Jan 21, 2002
    Messages:
    11,578
    Location:
    On the Zee
    I'm afraid I'm pulling the plug on this game. Due to busy schedule and lack of interest, it's a bit of a disservice to all of you to continue on from here. I thoroughly enjoy the stories written for it, but it just doesn't grasp me as much as botwawki or other games have. It did last a bit longer than most of my "rebound" NESes ever did, so there's that.

    At this point, I'm going to take my time in setting up the next game and it will follow the same general ruleset as these past two games, probably. Current contenders are:

    1. A global world map game starting in 1990, featuring a world dealing with the aftermath of World War Three depicted in the original version of Red Dawn. For those unaware this involved a Soviet invasion of the United States, the nuclear devastation of China, among other fun features. The game would begin almost immediately after the conclusion of the war by utter annihilation of the USSR. This would use a dramatically different ruleset than what we've seen previously, closer to the old rulesets I used in NESes like Capto Iugulum.

    2. Revisiting the RebelNES series. For those unaware these consisted of players leading rebel movements in a bid for power and support against a corrupt regime, while trying to come out on top over other movements. I'd probably use a custom map of an island nation like I did last time, naming all the towns and cities after people on this forum.
     
  12. Immaculate

    Immaculate unerring

    Joined:
    Jan 22, 2003
    Messages:
    7,574
    RIP.... thanks for a fun game regardless of brevity.
     
  13. Decamper

    Decamper ..!

    Joined:
    Jul 28, 2014
    Messages:
    1,158
    It was indeed fun while it lasted, thank you.

    I'd vote for RebelNES, but of course whichever or whatever you would find the most interesting. I'll join regardless!
     
  14. EQandcivfanatic

    EQandcivfanatic Zailing Captain Retired Moderator

    Joined:
    Jan 21, 2002
    Messages:
    11,578
    Location:
    On the Zee
  15. Grandkhan

    Grandkhan Telvanni Master Wizard

    Joined:
    Nov 24, 2011
    Messages:
    2,677
    Location:
    Inside a mushroom
    Ah well it was fun while it lasted. Cheers for running it EQ!
     

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