Gold will not be expended.
End of the Beginning of the End
- Thread starter EQandcivfanatic
- Start date
Zappericus
Euro scumbag
So, this risky market system.
Is it RNG, or what.
Additionally, I noticed that whilst I went to become fully militaristic, there are several players whom are not, and yet have a larger starting army than me. Is this because dwarves have a higher combat score, or is it RNG as well?
Is it RNG, or what.
Additionally, I noticed that whilst I went to become fully militaristic, there are several players whom are not, and yet have a larger starting army than me. Is this because dwarves have a higher combat score, or is it RNG as well?
Terran Empress
Hornet
Magi:
Challenge:
Orders:
Trade:
Spoiler :
Challenge:
Spoiler :
Orders:
Spoiler :
Trade:
Spoiler :
Immaculate
unerring
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2003
- Messages
- 7,623
2 cents nobody asked for:
Merchant leaders, merchant origins, and commercial factions should have better luck with getting their 'orders through to the merchants'; these are unpopular choices already and a small buff might make them slightly more popular.
Merchant leaders, merchant origins, and commercial factions should have better luck with getting their 'orders through to the merchants'; these are unpopular choices already and a small buff might make them slightly more popular.
Immaculate
unerring
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2003
- Messages
- 7,623
I edited my application. We're dwarves! And i wove in Zap's start- hope thats okay with you Zap.
http://forums.civfanatics.com/showpost.php?p=13903359&postcount=21
EDIT: I can haz stats so i can submit orders for turn 1? Puh-lease?!?!
http://forums.civfanatics.com/showpost.php?p=13903359&postcount=21
EDIT: I can haz stats so i can submit orders for turn 1? Puh-lease?!?!
Decamper
..!
- Joined
- Jul 28, 2014
- Messages
- 1,159
Aboard the Tranquility
The old ship creaked beneath First Mate Anocoquen, the ancient wood bent beneath generations of use. The Tranquility was at the front of the flotilla, a position fit for the flagship, forming the spear point aimed at the mist-choked mountains rising from the surf. The hair on the back of his neck bristled, an itch spreading across his skin from head to toe. Soon, they would stop. The running, the hiding, the constantly changing seas and coasts, they would all stop in the foothills of those peaks. They had made landfall plenty of times before, of course, no child of this planet could survive otherwise, but they had never stayed. His grip on the fraying hand rail tightened, splinters digging into his palm.
‘We will miss it.’ The soft, purring drawl startled him, but he made no show of it. He simply nodded slowly, glancing at the Captain as she silently settled beside him, the railing protesting loudly as she leaned against it. How someone that big could move so silently never ceased to impress him. She was made for land, to glide through the mountains and the forests as if the wind itself. Instead she was cooped up, as where all of his brothers and sisters, on their floating prison. At least she was leading that prison.
Captain Cunyaisse repeated, as if to herself, ‘In time, we will miss it.’ She stared off at the approaching island, one hand idly stroking the rail. He didn’t think he would miss it, but he wasn’t a Captain.
‘It had to end, and we’re the ones blessed enough to be alive for it.’ Anocoquen turned to his Captain. ‘And you’re the one that led us here, Captain.’
The corner of Cunyaisse's lips tugged upwards, but Anocoquen thought it may have been more a wince than a smirk. ‘Aye, I’m the one that led her to her grave.’ She looked down at the railing and patted her ship affectionately. Indeed, the Tranquility and her sister ships would be cannibalised after landfall to build their new dwellings. There would be no need for the crumbling vessels on land.
He shook his head, ‘Are you truly saying you don’t want to set foot off this ship? Do your veins run with sea water? That,’ He pointed to the dark spires of rock and earth. ‘That is our home Captain, and you brought us back to it.’
She met his eye, and bared her teeth in a sad grin. ‘I feel it as you do, brother. My blood boils and my bones ache for it. Even from here the scent of soil scratches at my mind, my palms itch to run over the stone, the bark, the dirt. We yearn for it brother, and of course I do too, as a babe does for its mother’s teat. The world was taken from us, and now it’s being handed back.’ She patted the railing once more. ‘But I allow myself this small sentimentality. She’s carried us here, she at least deserves to be missed.’
Anocoquen smiled up at his Captain. ‘Aye. That she does.’
Decamper
..!
- Joined
- Jul 28, 2014
- Messages
- 1,159
On the north shore of Enna Runya
It was intoxicating. His head swam with the scents, colours and textures of this new land. As with most of the others, Anocoquen had removed his sandals, letting his toes dig into the moist soil. Despite the two dozen rangers, handful of mages and three score of spear-armed militia crouching in a tight perimeter along the shore, they made no sound. None dared interrupt the crash of the waves, the wind whispering through the trees or the birds singing to one another. A slight drizzle rippled across the wooded shoreline, and the heights of the mountains were veiled by wispy rain clouds.
The only interrupting sound was the occasional splashing of another group of elves coming off the launches, joining the growing huddle of civilians behind the guard line. Glancing away from the beauty before him, he saw that three quarters had been ferried to shore. The First Mate watched as the launches were rowed back out to empty sea, before vanishing in the mesh of invisibility magic webbed over the flotilla. There wasnt really any reason for the elders to maintain the spells, man had gone and killed himself after all, but it was more a force of habit than anything else. Couldnt hurt in the off chance something else stalked these new lands.
That was something that did worry Anocoquen. If the fall of man had allowed the return of his kind, what else may have come crawling back from the darkness? He did not doubt the dwarves were returning to the surface world, and indeed hoped they would meet in the near future. The Vinya Falas had treated with the dwarven clans on occasion when the flotilla was forced to make landfall for repairs or trade, and while they were gruff and awkward, they were always a pleasure to be around. Aside from dwarves and elves though, there were other, far more sinister entities that had also faded as man grew strong.
His train of thought was broken when the young mage to his right began softly murmuring. The black haired little mage held a bundle of sticks and dirt in his right hand, his other sunk into the soil, his eyes closed but flicking side to side beneath the lids. Anocoquen quietly hissed, Lastao, what is it? The mage hushed the First Mate, who huffed at the disrespect but waited.
The little mage finally opened his eyes, dropping the handful of dirt and sticks, and wiping his palms on his cloak, said, I dont know brother. There are so many voices, it is difficult to tell who speaks. Anocoquen responded only with a raised eyebrow, so Lastao continued, There are whispers on the wind, voices snaking through the trees and scream rising from the dirt. He shook his head. If this land has a voice, it is drowned out by the dead.
The thought did not comfort Anocoquen, but he said, The land must heal, as must we. In time it will pass, you know as well as I. He put his hand on the young lads shoulder, feeling the mages power coursing through him even beneath the cloak and tunic. He couldnt imagine what this land must feel like to one so intertwined with the forces of the world, his very blood feeding off energies unseen. Lastao met his gaze, then smiled and gave a nod before looking back to the sea.
The last of the launches pushed itself up onto the beach, the rowers jumping out first to help their ancient passengers. The Elders of the Vinya Falas climbed shakily out of the launches, supported by the sailors. The eight of them were old beyond Anocoquens imagining, and they indeed looked it, nearly having to be carried up the beach. He had no semblance of pity for them though, as was so often how the humans looked upon their old and frail. When he looked upon the Elders, he felt only awe and pride. Awe, as those small, wizened figures carried enough magic in them to shroud the flotilla for ages. And pride, for they carried with them memories of the cities. They were those who had stepped onto the ships as younglings, watching as the cities of elves burned. Now, they stepped once again onto earth, and Anocoquen knew that it was as it should be. They, the Vinya Falas, were home.
The oldest of the Elders, a tiny crone, opened her arms wide, reaching up to the veiled mountains. Runya! The Vinya Falas shall call you home, and you shall see the rebirth of the world! cried Elder Aeluin Edladhrim, the leader of the three hundred-some elves. As the rest of the elves kneeled and began praying to the world before them, ships slipped out of nothingness, grinding towards the beach before listing over in the shallow surf. Anocoquen furrowed his brow. One was missing.
The Tranquility raced out of the failing invisibility shroud, sending water and mud through the air as it plowed towards the shore. It broke out of the surf as if propelled by the ocean itself, grinding up the beach as elves scurried out of its way. It came to a rest three full yards out of the surf, its hull dug deep into the soil keeping it from tilting over. The others watched silently as a handful of sailors jumped down from the deck, only a small skeleton crew. Anocoquen nodded to Captain Cunyaisse as she approached, the elders watching her silently and disapprovingly, with the exception of Edladhrim who snorted a laugh and began jabbing one of the sailors next to her to start relaying her orders.
The Captain stopped next Anocoquen, looking up at the wooded foothills. Fine landing Captain. She didnt look back as workers swarmed towards the ships with axes.
Thank you.
It was intoxicating. His head swam with the scents, colours and textures of this new land. As with most of the others, Anocoquen had removed his sandals, letting his toes dig into the moist soil. Despite the two dozen rangers, handful of mages and three score of spear-armed militia crouching in a tight perimeter along the shore, they made no sound. None dared interrupt the crash of the waves, the wind whispering through the trees or the birds singing to one another. A slight drizzle rippled across the wooded shoreline, and the heights of the mountains were veiled by wispy rain clouds.
The only interrupting sound was the occasional splashing of another group of elves coming off the launches, joining the growing huddle of civilians behind the guard line. Glancing away from the beauty before him, he saw that three quarters had been ferried to shore. The First Mate watched as the launches were rowed back out to empty sea, before vanishing in the mesh of invisibility magic webbed over the flotilla. There wasnt really any reason for the elders to maintain the spells, man had gone and killed himself after all, but it was more a force of habit than anything else. Couldnt hurt in the off chance something else stalked these new lands.
That was something that did worry Anocoquen. If the fall of man had allowed the return of his kind, what else may have come crawling back from the darkness? He did not doubt the dwarves were returning to the surface world, and indeed hoped they would meet in the near future. The Vinya Falas had treated with the dwarven clans on occasion when the flotilla was forced to make landfall for repairs or trade, and while they were gruff and awkward, they were always a pleasure to be around. Aside from dwarves and elves though, there were other, far more sinister entities that had also faded as man grew strong.
His train of thought was broken when the young mage to his right began softly murmuring. The black haired little mage held a bundle of sticks and dirt in his right hand, his other sunk into the soil, his eyes closed but flicking side to side beneath the lids. Anocoquen quietly hissed, Lastao, what is it? The mage hushed the First Mate, who huffed at the disrespect but waited.
The little mage finally opened his eyes, dropping the handful of dirt and sticks, and wiping his palms on his cloak, said, I dont know brother. There are so many voices, it is difficult to tell who speaks. Anocoquen responded only with a raised eyebrow, so Lastao continued, There are whispers on the wind, voices snaking through the trees and scream rising from the dirt. He shook his head. If this land has a voice, it is drowned out by the dead.
The thought did not comfort Anocoquen, but he said, The land must heal, as must we. In time it will pass, you know as well as I. He put his hand on the young lads shoulder, feeling the mages power coursing through him even beneath the cloak and tunic. He couldnt imagine what this land must feel like to one so intertwined with the forces of the world, his very blood feeding off energies unseen. Lastao met his gaze, then smiled and gave a nod before looking back to the sea.
The last of the launches pushed itself up onto the beach, the rowers jumping out first to help their ancient passengers. The Elders of the Vinya Falas climbed shakily out of the launches, supported by the sailors. The eight of them were old beyond Anocoquens imagining, and they indeed looked it, nearly having to be carried up the beach. He had no semblance of pity for them though, as was so often how the humans looked upon their old and frail. When he looked upon the Elders, he felt only awe and pride. Awe, as those small, wizened figures carried enough magic in them to shroud the flotilla for ages. And pride, for they carried with them memories of the cities. They were those who had stepped onto the ships as younglings, watching as the cities of elves burned. Now, they stepped once again onto earth, and Anocoquen knew that it was as it should be. They, the Vinya Falas, were home.
The oldest of the Elders, a tiny crone, opened her arms wide, reaching up to the veiled mountains. Runya! The Vinya Falas shall call you home, and you shall see the rebirth of the world! cried Elder Aeluin Edladhrim, the leader of the three hundred-some elves. As the rest of the elves kneeled and began praying to the world before them, ships slipped out of nothingness, grinding towards the beach before listing over in the shallow surf. Anocoquen furrowed his brow. One was missing.
The Tranquility raced out of the failing invisibility shroud, sending water and mud through the air as it plowed towards the shore. It broke out of the surf as if propelled by the ocean itself, grinding up the beach as elves scurried out of its way. It came to a rest three full yards out of the surf, its hull dug deep into the soil keeping it from tilting over. The others watched silently as a handful of sailors jumped down from the deck, only a small skeleton crew. Anocoquen nodded to Captain Cunyaisse as she approached, the elders watching her silently and disapprovingly, with the exception of Edladhrim who snorted a laugh and began jabbing one of the sailors next to her to start relaying her orders.
The Captain stopped next Anocoquen, looking up at the wooded foothills. Fine landing Captain. She didnt look back as workers swarmed towards the ships with axes.
Thank you.
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
Faction Name: Kingdom of Celestis
Race: Human
Leader Name: King Chardonis the Red, the First of his Name.
Leader Background: Mage
Starting Location: 26, by the Lake.
Leader Background:
Origins: Mage Veterans
Traits: Adventurous
Capital Type: Town
Background: The Kingdom of Celestis, and the people of the lake, has long enjoyed their special relationship with the lake, and the god of fire that they believe to have long fell upon the earth and still dwells, deep within.
Magic has always flown strong in the veins of the people of the lake, and they flow the strongest in the veins of Kings and Queens of Celestis. Show of magical force is one of the most important qualifiers of rulers' abilities. In the past, Red Priestess of the Fallen God travelled the lands, blessing the crops with the heat of the sun and good weathers. The peasants huddled by the singing voices of the nobles and the priestess in the cold of winter, warmed by magical lights that came to respond at the call.
Then the war came. The Kingdom answered the call of its allies and launched itself into battle. The strong mages and the priestess of the kingdom inflicted horrific casualties.. and suffered the same in return. In the end, as the world tore itself apart, all that remained of the Kingdom was the ruined wreckage of its capital city and the few huddled and mind-scarred masses that sought refugee within. Now, as the King awakes and surveys the lands, he must convince his people that a brighter future awaits still... and seek to preserve the magical traditions and religions now nearly lost. Perhaps, by recovering the remnants of all that was lost, they will restore the glory to the kingdom.
Race: Human
Leader Name: King Chardonis the Red, the First of his Name.
Leader Background: Mage
Starting Location: 26, by the Lake.
Leader Background:
Origins: Mage Veterans
Traits: Adventurous
Capital Type: Town
Background: The Kingdom of Celestis, and the people of the lake, has long enjoyed their special relationship with the lake, and the god of fire that they believe to have long fell upon the earth and still dwells, deep within.
Magic has always flown strong in the veins of the people of the lake, and they flow the strongest in the veins of Kings and Queens of Celestis. Show of magical force is one of the most important qualifiers of rulers' abilities. In the past, Red Priestess of the Fallen God travelled the lands, blessing the crops with the heat of the sun and good weathers. The peasants huddled by the singing voices of the nobles and the priestess in the cold of winter, warmed by magical lights that came to respond at the call.
Then the war came. The Kingdom answered the call of its allies and launched itself into battle. The strong mages and the priestess of the kingdom inflicted horrific casualties.. and suffered the same in return. In the end, as the world tore itself apart, all that remained of the Kingdom was the ruined wreckage of its capital city and the few huddled and mind-scarred masses that sought refugee within. Now, as the King awakes and surveys the lands, he must convince his people that a brighter future awaits still... and seek to preserve the magical traditions and religions now nearly lost. Perhaps, by recovering the remnants of all that was lost, they will restore the glory to the kingdom.
I have updated the first post with the rules on open market trading. Merchant Leader Background is now substantially more powerful than it was. The excerpt:
Gold is the de facto currency of the new markets that have begun to exist since the end of the world. No sooner than was the world put back together, merchants began travelling the wreckage of the roads and ruins to make a profit. With each update, an open market exists whereupon you can sell or buy any resources. Gold is also used to train Soldiers, alongside weapons and ore for armor. If you are extremely lucky, you may be able to find a literal gold mine somewhere, allowing you to produce gold from scratch, rather than just from selling other assets on the market.
Trading is a dangerous hobby for merchants, and it is a seller's market. You sell to merchants outside of your town, but if you need a large amount of resources, you have to place an order with them.They will do their best to gather the resources you require before shipping them back. This will require a 50% down payment, which is nonrefundable if the merchants disappear into the bellies of some creature. Leaders with the Merchant background are exempt from this down payment, and thus lose nothing if the caravan fails to return with purchased goods. This only applies to LARGE purchases of goods.
Gold is the de facto currency of the new markets that have begun to exist since the end of the world. No sooner than was the world put back together, merchants began travelling the wreckage of the roads and ruins to make a profit. With each update, an open market exists whereupon you can sell or buy any resources. Gold is also used to train Soldiers, alongside weapons and ore for armor. If you are extremely lucky, you may be able to find a literal gold mine somewhere, allowing you to produce gold from scratch, rather than just from selling other assets on the market.
Trading is a dangerous hobby for merchants, and it is a seller's market. You sell to merchants outside of your town, but if you need a large amount of resources, you have to place an order with them.They will do their best to gather the resources you require before shipping them back. This will require a 50% down payment, which is nonrefundable if the merchants disappear into the bellies of some creature. Leaders with the Merchant background are exempt from this down payment, and thus lose nothing if the caravan fails to return with purchased goods. This only applies to LARGE purchases of goods.
I am starting work on the update with the orders that I have received (12/17). For those stragglers, get them in!
christos200
Never tell me the odds
- Yang Kang, King of Shu State
Yang Kang, the twenty-five years old King of Shu State, was sitting on his golden throne. Before him, more than twenty Ministers were bowing. They kowtowed thrice before the King gave them the permission to stand up.
"Ministers, I want to hear your advices", the young monarch said.
A Minister named Cao Bi came forward and said, "Our settlement is defenseless. We have no soldiers and so anyone would be able to take over our settlement. I propose that we construct a fortification using our ore resources, so that we can defend in case of an attack."
Another Minister, named Huang Di, came forward and said, "I agree with Minister Cao. I also propose that construct a Lumber Mill to increase our lumber resources. This way, we can start to build up a military force."
Yang Kang replied, "I accept both your proposals. Prepare the Royal Decrees needed to begin those two projects!"
All of the Ministers kowtowed thrice and left the Throne Room. Yang Kang remained lone in his throne. He sighed. 'Another day of having to give orders', he thought. He really wanted to live a carefree live and not care about all those things, but he had the duty as a King to do the best for his people, even if he disliked being the King. In fact, he envied the ordinary people who had friends, lovers, a warm family and were carefree.
Because he was the King, he did not have real friends, but only subjects. The women that were serving him were Royal Concubines, and they did it out of duty. His father, now deceased, was almost never with him as most of the time he was governing. And Yang Kang had to spend all his days managing affairs of the state. He wished he could have a more carefree life.
J.K. Stockholme
Right Opposition
The Root of Evil
Magic is the root of all evil. To that fountain of darkness do we owe the Mage Wars. So raise your chalice, and drink to death! Drink from the well of boundless power, as all our myopic ancestors did they who built great civilizations of incredible strength, and prepared a graveyard the size of the world. No fools were they either, our ancestors! Filled to the brim with the greatest minds Gensin may ever know, the wisest scholars knew best and so erected temples big as cities, on the future blood of their children.
Mankind has never known a more virulent and tempting sin as that of practicing magic it destroyed the world, and will do so again.
But though we have not the breadth of knowledge the thinkers of the past, we know one big truth: that only with the total prohibition of the supernatural can mankind be safe from destruction. So long as we permit the use of magic, we are subject to its corruption repent! Do not drink to death! Destroy the genesis of our future destruction, and abstain from magic in all its forms!
Magic is the root of all evil. To that fountain of darkness do we owe the Mage Wars. So raise your chalice, and drink to death! Drink from the well of boundless power, as all our myopic ancestors did they who built great civilizations of incredible strength, and prepared a graveyard the size of the world. No fools were they either, our ancestors! Filled to the brim with the greatest minds Gensin may ever know, the wisest scholars knew best and so erected temples big as cities, on the future blood of their children.
Mankind has never known a more virulent and tempting sin as that of practicing magic it destroyed the world, and will do so again.
But though we have not the breadth of knowledge the thinkers of the past, we know one big truth: that only with the total prohibition of the supernatural can mankind be safe from destruction. So long as we permit the use of magic, we are subject to its corruption repent! Do not drink to death! Destroy the genesis of our future destruction, and abstain from magic in all its forms!
Zappericus
Euro scumbag
Mein Dwarf
The destruction of our once fertile, beautiful and stable world is nothing else but the complete and irrefutable fact the degradable practitioners of magic and the vile, narcissist elven provocateurs are to blame. They are part of the lower classes, weaving together uncontrollable forces beyond their comprehension in hopes of gaining meager power to put themselves above the good, hardworking Occitanian dwarf.
There must be an extermination, sooner or later. If we allow these creatures to mingle and procreate without regulation, we allow the destruction of what little society we have managed to scrape together from the ashes of the old world. Our empire was once the envy of the world in both industry and culture, but we were corrupted and betrayed from within by the insects of which we have allowed to fester and grow within our society: Mages.
The destruction of our once fertile, beautiful and stable world is nothing else but the complete and irrefutable fact the degradable practitioners of magic and the vile, narcissist elven provocateurs are to blame. They are part of the lower classes, weaving together uncontrollable forces beyond their comprehension in hopes of gaining meager power to put themselves above the good, hardworking Occitanian dwarf.
There must be an extermination, sooner or later. If we allow these creatures to mingle and procreate without regulation, we allow the destruction of what little society we have managed to scrape together from the ashes of the old world. Our empire was once the envy of the world in both industry and culture, but we were corrupted and betrayed from within by the insects of which we have allowed to fester and grow within our society: Mages.
Quisani
Gaming Person
Spoiler :
The five members of the order of Id-Azrâd stood at one of the balconies overlooking the entrance to Nututdun. They were sending the first dwarves to the surface since long before the Sundering. The main entrance to Id-Azrâd was in a small cirque sheltered by mountain wall on 3 sides. The entrance was wide enough for horse or boar drawn wagons to enter.
Farras Lightseeker spoke to the men who had assembled below. "Kin, we find ourselves in a new world. A world unclaimed by man, dwarf, or elf. They have tried to wear us down, but we are the Stonebeard clan! Our souls burst forth from the stone! We must seize the opportunity to claim our honor! To secure our clan's birthright! Ufranul Uddel, amnâdzu muhula!" There was a great cheer among the dwarves and then silence as they began to move out in groups. Despite their enthusiasm, they were to take precaution.
Gharras, brother and advisor to Farras, spoke. "That was a right done speech brother. Ya reckon this world could be ours? I dread the idea of finding what was making that din just before things changed."
Alf nodded and Bifar, the youngest and thus most excitable in the order, voiced his concerns. "What if whatevers left hates us for knowin' mage-work? Supposen' they want to kill us?"
Benrin Farscry, the oldest of the group, frowned. "Then we shall have to look several steps ahead. If they despise magic, then they are blind to their fears. It is a lack of restraint on the human's parts that caused The Sundering. That said, we will work magics that will defend us, as we always have."
Farras, feeling the mood of the group sour, shook his head. "We'll have fights on our hands, as we did before. If we have to make decisions on enemies we haven't even met yet, then surely we'll waste all our time fretting away imagined terrors. Let's just focus on getting some wood, and leave the horrors for another day, shall we?" And with that, the meeting of the order of Id-Azrâd was over.
? Some questions will never find their answers.
theDright
King
- Joined
- Dec 10, 2011
- Messages
- 605
Faction Name: Flawirothhord.
Leader Name: Alaricho Flawirotha
Leader Background: Warrior
Starting Location: Zone 40, Flawirothkamp
Leader Background: Alaricho is the second oldest son of Marcdaim Stanic Flawirotha, the ruler of Flawirothland, a minor marcdaimy in a minor nation of Old Gensin. The end of Old Gensin saw Alaricho supervising the defense and maintenance of various adventurers, farmers, miners, refugees, students, and militia against the ongoing fallout of the Great Wars. He currently has no contact with his father Stanic, his elder brother Stanic, or his younger sister Margarethe, as roads that led toward Flawirothschlos and Flawirothton have been severed.
Origins: Townspeople
Traits: Innovative
Capital Type: Camp
Background: The Flawirothkamp is currently managed by Alaricho Flawirotha and a small coterie of loyal Flawirothland Soldiers and a larger group of Flawirothland militia and civilians, who are mainly the local farmers, miners, and students at the local university. Added to this is a large group of refugees from elsewhere funneled into the refugee camps by Alaricho's Adventurer older sister Berthe.
Leader Name: Alaricho Flawirotha
Leader Background: Warrior
Starting Location: Zone 40, Flawirothkamp
Leader Background: Alaricho is the second oldest son of Marcdaim Stanic Flawirotha, the ruler of Flawirothland, a minor marcdaimy in a minor nation of Old Gensin. The end of Old Gensin saw Alaricho supervising the defense and maintenance of various adventurers, farmers, miners, refugees, students, and militia against the ongoing fallout of the Great Wars. He currently has no contact with his father Stanic, his elder brother Stanic, or his younger sister Margarethe, as roads that led toward Flawirothschlos and Flawirothton have been severed.
Origins: Townspeople
Traits: Innovative
Capital Type: Camp
Background: The Flawirothkamp is currently managed by Alaricho Flawirotha and a small coterie of loyal Flawirothland Soldiers and a larger group of Flawirothland militia and civilians, who are mainly the local farmers, miners, and students at the local university. Added to this is a large group of refugees from elsewhere funneled into the refugee camps by Alaricho's Adventurer older sister Berthe.
Unweeldy Gluv
Chieftain
- Joined
- Jul 20, 2015
- Messages
- 3
Faction-Name: Blackwood Elves of Unkurra
Leader Name: Kynwal Sulfur-Rust the Tall of Unkurra
Leader Background(trait): Engineer/Mage (would ideally like to get mix of benefits, if not possible then just Engineer)
Leader Background:
Kynwal Sulfur-Rust was the tallest among his brethren a curse far more than a blessing. Tall, lanky dwarves do not make for good soldiers, and Kynwal quickly dedicated himself to study. Talented with crafts and well-read, he enrolled in one the Dwarven peoples most prestigious engineering academies, hidden in a Dwarven Fortress, Unkurra, far to the south. In the highly competitive and demanding environment of the academy, Kynwal was desperate and struggling, but soon found that his creations, despite sometimes shoddy engineering, had a knack for staying just so. Use of magic, strictly forbidden in the academy, was a risky manouvre, but Kynwal would do anything to get ahead. His engineering feats and innovative creations became larger and more grandiose until it became clear to the other engineers that no bridge, statue, or tower, no matter how cleverly built, could defy gravity in quite the ways that Kynwals did. Stripped of all honors, Kynwal was thrown out of the academy. When the mage wars struck, desperate for vengeance, Kynwal magically created small leaks and holes in the otherwise impenetrable Dwarven fortress. Wild magic tore though the fortress, leaving none alive. Kynwal, suddenly very alone, took Lordship in Unkurra, no longer a fortress: a tomb.
Start location: 157
Origins: Elves
Traits: Innovative
Capital Type: Dwarf Fortress (Unkurra)
Background: The Elves of Blackwood were a secretive tribe, protective of the ancient and magical forest that was their home. Their leader, Suramin of Blackwood, and his betrothed, the majestic Merowid of Blackwood, were compassionate, benevolent leaders. When the mage wars struck, a rift was formed between the Blackwood elves: many wished to stay and defend their home, many wished to flee. Merowid, torn by the love she has for Suramin, made the choice to abandon their home, taking many of the Blackwood elves with her. To most of the Elves, it was clear that to stay was suicide. Suramin, foolishly brave, stayed to fight. Merowid and her Elves travelled day and night, but there was no refuge from violent conflict. That is, until they stumbled upon Ukurra, a Dwarven Fortress, empty of all residents except for a single, lonely King: Kynwal Sulfur-Rust the Tall. Kynwal invited the Elves to take home in Unkurra, and together their Elven magic and Dwarven expertise were used to strengthen the walls and save them from the chaos of the Mage Wars. Merowid marries Kynwal in a marriage born of necessity, not love (Kynwal the Tall is three heads shorter than Merowid, and not a looker), solidifying the Blackwood Elves with a new home. The remaining Blackwood Elves, far from their ancestral home and partitioned from their families and communities, look to Kynwal and Merowid of Unkurra, their King and Queen, to guide them into the future.
Leader Name: Kynwal Sulfur-Rust the Tall of Unkurra
Leader Background(trait): Engineer/Mage (would ideally like to get mix of benefits, if not possible then just Engineer)
Leader Background:
Kynwal Sulfur-Rust was the tallest among his brethren a curse far more than a blessing. Tall, lanky dwarves do not make for good soldiers, and Kynwal quickly dedicated himself to study. Talented with crafts and well-read, he enrolled in one the Dwarven peoples most prestigious engineering academies, hidden in a Dwarven Fortress, Unkurra, far to the south. In the highly competitive and demanding environment of the academy, Kynwal was desperate and struggling, but soon found that his creations, despite sometimes shoddy engineering, had a knack for staying just so. Use of magic, strictly forbidden in the academy, was a risky manouvre, but Kynwal would do anything to get ahead. His engineering feats and innovative creations became larger and more grandiose until it became clear to the other engineers that no bridge, statue, or tower, no matter how cleverly built, could defy gravity in quite the ways that Kynwals did. Stripped of all honors, Kynwal was thrown out of the academy. When the mage wars struck, desperate for vengeance, Kynwal magically created small leaks and holes in the otherwise impenetrable Dwarven fortress. Wild magic tore though the fortress, leaving none alive. Kynwal, suddenly very alone, took Lordship in Unkurra, no longer a fortress: a tomb.
Start location: 157
Origins: Elves
Traits: Innovative
Capital Type: Dwarf Fortress (Unkurra)
Background: The Elves of Blackwood were a secretive tribe, protective of the ancient and magical forest that was their home. Their leader, Suramin of Blackwood, and his betrothed, the majestic Merowid of Blackwood, were compassionate, benevolent leaders. When the mage wars struck, a rift was formed between the Blackwood elves: many wished to stay and defend their home, many wished to flee. Merowid, torn by the love she has for Suramin, made the choice to abandon their home, taking many of the Blackwood elves with her. To most of the Elves, it was clear that to stay was suicide. Suramin, foolishly brave, stayed to fight. Merowid and her Elves travelled day and night, but there was no refuge from violent conflict. That is, until they stumbled upon Ukurra, a Dwarven Fortress, empty of all residents except for a single, lonely King: Kynwal Sulfur-Rust the Tall. Kynwal invited the Elves to take home in Unkurra, and together their Elven magic and Dwarven expertise were used to strengthen the walls and save them from the chaos of the Mage Wars. Merowid marries Kynwal in a marriage born of necessity, not love (Kynwal the Tall is three heads shorter than Merowid, and not a looker), solidifying the Blackwood Elves with a new home. The remaining Blackwood Elves, far from their ancestral home and partitioned from their families and communities, look to Kynwal and Merowid of Unkurra, their King and Queen, to guide them into the future.
Grandkhan
Telvanni Master Wizard
Never meddle in the affairs of wizards, because they're right bloody bastards.
The Institute, after several hundred years of thaumaturgic experimentation carried out by the kind of person who is later described as "a little odd, but we never saw any trouble," to a reporter, had a lot of spare rooms. Many of those were on top of eachother, or inside eachother, or existed in some strange chunk of overlapping space time in some strange way that made a cartographers life a living hell. There were at least two rooms that you could see your back through the other doorway as you entered, and not thanks to a mirror. In general, new attendees were pointed in the general direction of the dorms and told "Its somewhere over there," and the staff just hoped that they wouldn't get lost and end up in a pocket dimension or something on the way.
All this contributed to many such rooms becoming a dumping ground for old junk that nobody could find any use for, and it was in one of these rooms that Thalimar Philotheon, High and Most Excellent Archmagus of the Institute of the Arcane, found himself, along with the Academician and Master Wizard Eudamon Abbipus, Dean of Demonic Studies. This room had clearly been used to dump somebody's library, and there were vast piles of books littered across the floor. Eudamon was literally headfirst in a pile the size of a large haystack, only his legs emerging from it as his bony knees kicked feebly.
"Mmmmmph!" he cried.
"What?" Thalimar said, turning back to the bookpile.
"Mmmph mmmmmph mmmph mmmmmmmmph! Mmmmph!"" Eudamon said, kicking his feet harder. Thalimar grabbed him by the legs and heaved, pulling him out. He emerged eventually, one hand holding his wizard hat in place and the other clutching a battered manuscript. "I've found it!" he said, waving the book proudly under Thalimar's nose.
"What am I looking at here?" Thalimar asked leaning backwards. He could faintly detect the scent of mildew, and a coppery stench smelled suspiciously like blood.
"Applying Mass Rune Circles to Optimising Blood Sacrifice, by Principus Maxilo," the Dean said, as he picked a bookworm out of his impressive beard. "His thesis. Nobody took it very seriously at the time, but I used it once as a coaster when I was a student. A proposed set up to optimise the process of blood sacrifices and extract raw thaumaturgical energy by trading it as a pact with a Bound Demon."
"Fascinating as that sounds," the Archmagus said, slowly, "I fail to see why this was so important that you had to interrupt my work to find it." In truth, he'd been catching the rays at the peak of the tower, but if he was going to do this job he'd damn well better milk it for what it was worth.
"I'm not sure you understand the implications. Do you have a passing understanding of Blood summoning circles and the Thaumic Energy Bargain ritual?"
"No," Thalimar sniffed. "My field was always elemental summoning, thank you very much."
"Yes, well, we can't all be layabouts," the Dean rolled his eyes. Thalimar bit back a retort. "Well, I'm sure I can briefly educate you. Traditionally, the summoning of a demonic entity for a Blood Ritual takes 9 days and 9 nights of hellish chanting, before each one can put down the Runes of Binding and seal the entity in place before one makes the bargain. The actual overhead was never the sacrifice itself - that happens in the order of minutes. I'm sure you appreciate that its not as easy as reaching into the Planar Ether and plucking a Muscle Elemental to open a jar for you."
Thalimar raised an eyebrow. The Dean chuckled weakly. "Ha, hah, just a little faculty joke."
"Go on," Thalimar said, tapping his foot impatiently.
"Well, if you had five sacrifices to make, say, it would take 45 days overall. Really, an unacceptable overhead. But Maxilo theorised and proved that a particular configuration of runes, arranged in such a way around this summoning circle, could in fact split the summoning call five ways and call 5 demons simultaneously to make a bargain. Actually, its very interesting - the real trick wasn't just getting them there, it was making sure that they don't all murder eachother. If you look at this particular Rune of Protection, its inverted to turn the Binding inwards to the Demons rather than outwards , and surrounded by this smaller circle of standard Runes of Protection. This was actually what won him acclaim, and to think that it was developed half-heartedly for another..."
"Get to the point, Eudamon!"
The Dean sighed. "Well, if you have no interest in the intricacies of Blood Summoning, this cuts down the entire process to the original 9 days and 9 nights, just by putting the victims at these points on the circle. We can cut down on the overhead by a literal four fifths! If you'll just give me 23 Grad students, 18 for the chanting and 5 for the sacrifice then we can..."
"No. No sacrificing Grad students." Thalimar said bluntly.
"What? But thats what they're for," whined Eudamon.
"We don't have the manpower. But don't worry... we'll find people to sacrifice. This was definitely worth the trip. I'll send out the scouts to find a few ...volunteers." Thalimar could feel an evil laugh coming on. He wasn't sure why, but they kept on coming these days, generally in situations like this. Perhaps it was worth seeing a healer about it?
"Thankyou, thankyou!" said Eudamon, bowing. "You won't regret this. I'll organise the chanters soon!"
"Oh Eudamon," said Thalimar, as the Dean headed to the door. "Whatever happened to Maxilo?"
"Not carried away by a demon, if thats what you're worried about. Well, Maxilo had an interest in elemental summoning as well. One day he got up and declared he was going to find the Elemental Plane of Ranch Dressing, and that was that was the last anybody ever heard of him. Like I said - genius, but a little batty."
"Indeed," nodded Thalimar, "Everyone knows the Elemental Plane of Ranch Dressing is just left of the one of Lettuce."
Gandalf, probably.
The Institute, after several hundred years of thaumaturgic experimentation carried out by the kind of person who is later described as "a little odd, but we never saw any trouble," to a reporter, had a lot of spare rooms. Many of those were on top of eachother, or inside eachother, or existed in some strange chunk of overlapping space time in some strange way that made a cartographers life a living hell. There were at least two rooms that you could see your back through the other doorway as you entered, and not thanks to a mirror. In general, new attendees were pointed in the general direction of the dorms and told "Its somewhere over there," and the staff just hoped that they wouldn't get lost and end up in a pocket dimension or something on the way.
All this contributed to many such rooms becoming a dumping ground for old junk that nobody could find any use for, and it was in one of these rooms that Thalimar Philotheon, High and Most Excellent Archmagus of the Institute of the Arcane, found himself, along with the Academician and Master Wizard Eudamon Abbipus, Dean of Demonic Studies. This room had clearly been used to dump somebody's library, and there were vast piles of books littered across the floor. Eudamon was literally headfirst in a pile the size of a large haystack, only his legs emerging from it as his bony knees kicked feebly.
"Mmmmmph!" he cried.
"What?" Thalimar said, turning back to the bookpile.
"Mmmph mmmmmph mmmph mmmmmmmmph! Mmmmph!"" Eudamon said, kicking his feet harder. Thalimar grabbed him by the legs and heaved, pulling him out. He emerged eventually, one hand holding his wizard hat in place and the other clutching a battered manuscript. "I've found it!" he said, waving the book proudly under Thalimar's nose.
"What am I looking at here?" Thalimar asked leaning backwards. He could faintly detect the scent of mildew, and a coppery stench smelled suspiciously like blood.
"Applying Mass Rune Circles to Optimising Blood Sacrifice, by Principus Maxilo," the Dean said, as he picked a bookworm out of his impressive beard. "His thesis. Nobody took it very seriously at the time, but I used it once as a coaster when I was a student. A proposed set up to optimise the process of blood sacrifices and extract raw thaumaturgical energy by trading it as a pact with a Bound Demon."
"Fascinating as that sounds," the Archmagus said, slowly, "I fail to see why this was so important that you had to interrupt my work to find it." In truth, he'd been catching the rays at the peak of the tower, but if he was going to do this job he'd damn well better milk it for what it was worth.
"I'm not sure you understand the implications. Do you have a passing understanding of Blood summoning circles and the Thaumic Energy Bargain ritual?"
"No," Thalimar sniffed. "My field was always elemental summoning, thank you very much."
"Yes, well, we can't all be layabouts," the Dean rolled his eyes. Thalimar bit back a retort. "Well, I'm sure I can briefly educate you. Traditionally, the summoning of a demonic entity for a Blood Ritual takes 9 days and 9 nights of hellish chanting, before each one can put down the Runes of Binding and seal the entity in place before one makes the bargain. The actual overhead was never the sacrifice itself - that happens in the order of minutes. I'm sure you appreciate that its not as easy as reaching into the Planar Ether and plucking a Muscle Elemental to open a jar for you."
Thalimar raised an eyebrow. The Dean chuckled weakly. "Ha, hah, just a little faculty joke."
"Go on," Thalimar said, tapping his foot impatiently.
"Well, if you had five sacrifices to make, say, it would take 45 days overall. Really, an unacceptable overhead. But Maxilo theorised and proved that a particular configuration of runes, arranged in such a way around this summoning circle, could in fact split the summoning call five ways and call 5 demons simultaneously to make a bargain. Actually, its very interesting - the real trick wasn't just getting them there, it was making sure that they don't all murder eachother. If you look at this particular Rune of Protection, its inverted to turn the Binding inwards to the Demons rather than outwards , and surrounded by this smaller circle of standard Runes of Protection. This was actually what won him acclaim, and to think that it was developed half-heartedly for another..."
"Get to the point, Eudamon!"
The Dean sighed. "Well, if you have no interest in the intricacies of Blood Summoning, this cuts down the entire process to the original 9 days and 9 nights, just by putting the victims at these points on the circle. We can cut down on the overhead by a literal four fifths! If you'll just give me 23 Grad students, 18 for the chanting and 5 for the sacrifice then we can..."
"No. No sacrificing Grad students." Thalimar said bluntly.
"What? But thats what they're for," whined Eudamon.
"We don't have the manpower. But don't worry... we'll find people to sacrifice. This was definitely worth the trip. I'll send out the scouts to find a few ...volunteers." Thalimar could feel an evil laugh coming on. He wasn't sure why, but they kept on coming these days, generally in situations like this. Perhaps it was worth seeing a healer about it?
"Thankyou, thankyou!" said Eudamon, bowing. "You won't regret this. I'll organise the chanters soon!"
"Oh Eudamon," said Thalimar, as the Dean headed to the door. "Whatever happened to Maxilo?"
"Not carried away by a demon, if thats what you're worried about. Well, Maxilo had an interest in elemental summoning as well. One day he got up and declared he was going to find the Elemental Plane of Ranch Dressing, and that was that was the last anybody ever heard of him. Like I said - genius, but a little batty."
"Indeed," nodded Thalimar, "Everyone knows the Elemental Plane of Ranch Dressing is just left of the one of Lettuce."
