Ffh Nes Ii

Uh, poor Luck for sidar, still undead attacking everyone is certainly fun!.


Offer for Elven mercenaries

15 years have passed since our previous offer, does world have no need for us? Can we restore our forefathers lost honor? Will Some kingdom make an offer to hire us, or will we never be able to re-earn our fathers lost honor.


*New message is sent to every kingdom, expt White Mist Elves*:

Anyone who have contact with Bannor/Grigrory can make an offer(expt. White mist elves).
2 kingdoms can make combined offer, we will only listen to one kingdom general tho.
We refuse to kill innocents.
We will work for kingdom who offers most.
We accept gold and/or food as payment.
We will sign contact for !minimum! of 3 turns.
More info here
.

We hope, that we can use our ancient(iron) weapons to restore our house honor, so members of Silver Grass could walk among elves once again.
Brond Minyature,
Leader of "The Forgotten House" of Silver Grass.

We prefer using Personal Message system and we will reply once a day (in hospital again).

Maybe you should have come to our continent mate, lots of mercenary deals are being offered here:p
 
@MasterofDisasta: check your PM
 
1, I ask for assistance from Bannor, for this is surely invasion!

OOC: If you want the Bannor to consider sending you help then you should sign the official treaty I PM'd you. I don't understand why you are taking so long about it, it is the exact same agreement, just in writing.
 
OOC: Those who want to contact me can do so by contacting the Grigori traditionalists who talk about a comeback of the 'Fists of Balance'.
Charles,
We have contacted various Old Fist Masters that retired before the treatury and are willing to teach the second generation.
You know that the battle was 4 updates away so 100+ years? How did you contact the old masters who are surely dead by now?
 
i think the battle was 114 years ago. (before the update 99 years ago, so events in this update occurred between 99-114 years after the attack on grak's orcs).... there's some hidden poetry in there but what could be :shrug:
 
Ok I just read the update now, so sorry to anyone I haven't replied to yet. I'm on it.

That was a very dramatic battle story, and I was really glad the swordsmen lived up to my expectations. :)

Any chance we can get stats for those skeleton things later? It's nice to know what my very expensive soldiers died fighting. :p
 
basically they have the stats of spear militia but are slightly weaker on defense... their morale however is perfect and they induce some small amount of fear (less so if you fight them repeatedly)
 
Well, they are 'In Balance' and have a habit of vigorous exercise.

So they never stop praticing even if they are retired. They are very old now but hopefully our last turns trade deal worked and we can put their acient methods into stone.

BTW I guess that the old bones are Fist of Balance guys. I GUESS.
 
There are, of course, some other minor advantages too. Hopefully Immac won't spill all my secrets. Still, perhaps the most valuable is as Immac mentioned: perfect morale means they'll fight to the last man, every time, if their orders tell them to do so. Thus, while their overall quality might be less than some living units', they can cause disproportionate losses in the right kind of situation.
 
......I know that in Eastern lore some very old masters were like, 300 years old, but that seems a bit too much of a stress here... Since when did the Fists Masters began growing horns on their head?
 
Adam returns. Ending the war, with style.


Spoiler :
Pain.

Odd, that it was still felt after his death. Perhaps it was to be expected – what was death but a change in venue, after all? – but feeling it still managed to surprise him after the intervening decades. A decade, such a long time to younger races, but nothing but a passing whisper to a Shade, and a dead Shade at that. Perhaps, among all of peoples of Erebus only the elves could come close to understanding an Elder Shade’s feelings in such things. Perhaps not; elves had their own odd ways of viewing the world.

Pain.

Ah, yes… that had been what he was thinking about, wasn’t it? Death ruled all, but pain ruled everything short of death. It was time to acknowledge his pain for a moment, if for no other reason than to expunge it and get back to the more pressing matter.

Pain.

A sigh escaped him. A sign born not of anguish, but a deciding sound, of one resolved to do something he would perhaps rather not do. Adam rose from his seat, or “throne” as some tried to call it. Always those who thought that kingly terms were important, always those who didn’t know the real matters of importance, always those who managed to deceive themselves again and again with trivialities.

Pain, as he rose.

Some of it was from weary bones. Had he thought about it, he would have realized that he’d not moved a muscle for nearly three days, not even to drink.

Some of it was from old wounds. Wounds that had healed, a few more imperfectly than others, and all generally forgotten. Wounds to flesh mattered not.

Some of it was from his own awful condition. Self-pity degrades the body, he knew this; he also knew that he cared not, and that if it were possible to continue such degradation to the next plane he would instantly do so.

Most of it was from the feelings he’d detected in the last day or two. Some would think it odd to experience feelings and emotions from others, but he’d long ago stopped worrying about minor details like that.

Pain.

It was the last pain that he would correct today. With that pain gone, the others could be ignored once again as a part of his daily experience. A joy, that. Glee.

The… “court”, damned be the term… silenced itself at his rise. They knew little, but yet they knew enough to know when things of real importance were about to occur. Unfortunately for them, they were still unknowledgeable enough to want to see such things happen, instead of flee from them. They’d learn, sooner or later.

Adam walked down the steps. He looked around, searching with incurious eyes for a specific person. He found him, received a very slight twitch of the eyes in response to some imperceptible code, then stopped. He returned his gaze straight forward.

A cough. Pain, again. That tiny part of his brain that remembered such things recalled a spear wound to the chest, the blood that had erupted. Oddly, the recollection dimmed the feeling instead of growing it. He took note, and that little part of his mind wondered whether such a tactic would work again. The rest of his mind was still concerned with greater things than mere agony.

“I believe the Priest is about. Bring him, please.” Adam spoke out to no one in particular. He knew the Priest was in the building, although not anywhere nearby. The man was probably focused on his “rule”, firm in the knowledge that Adam was preoccupied in his own matters. Well, Adam was in such a state, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still carry on a good conversation.

The silence continued unabated. Few moved through the chamber, and with only a couple exceptions no one looked comfortable. Finally, in the far corner of the room, a quiet voice muttered to another, and received a response. A startlingly loud laugh was the outcome, and nearly everyone else appeared to melt into the floor upon hearing it. Adam didn’t, as he was once again solely existent within his own thoughts.

Finally, the Priest appeared.

“You called, First Man?” Eh. How he hated that label…

Adam simply looked at him, then nodded as if to himself.

Silence. Pain again.

“Uh… lord? You wished me to join you here?”

Priests were really supposed to have patience, Adam reflected. He was looking through the Priest now. His hand rose, casually, and a single finger pointed halfheartedly upwards. He twirled it, once, then dropped the hand.

Silence.

Adam slowly turned, and walked a half-pace to the side of the Priest. The other man’s eyes followed, and his head turned just a bit.

Silence. Pain.

A Priest’s body can hold an astounding amount of blood. The dagger that had been thrust upward from the base of his skull out through his left eye released almost all of it. Adam’s eyes suddenly refocused, narrowed, and locked onto the face of the Priest’s killer.

A shrouded man looked back at him. Not so odd, not in this… court, damn it… but his choice of color was different than most. He wore nothing but white, except for some odd black glasses, and like Adam he had almost miraculously escaped the stains that blood would have given his clothes. He lowered the shroud, gave a nod to his king, then grinned widely as he removed the rusty piece of metal from the Priest’s cranium. It returned nicely into his chest.

Adam, terrifyingly “in the now” to nearly all of the people around him, returned the nod then began walking back to his seat. His legs were tired. He spoke as he ascended back up the dais.

“He didn’t follow the One Rule. He feared Death, and sought to escape Him, but he among all people should have known that Death takes whomever He wills.”

As he spoke, the white-clothed man was hauling up the body of the Priest, and slowly dragging it out of the room. He was still smiling, as if to an unspoken joke, and despite the trail of blood the body was leaving the man himself was yet immaculate. The speakers from before were the only others moving in the court, and they were moving in an obvious attempt to aid in the Priest’s removal. One held the door, and the other was reaching to carry the deceased man’s legs.

Adam resumed his seat. He supposed, now, that he might as well call it a throne – it was certainly uncomfortable enough.

“Death comes to everything. Nothing lasts forever, as all must eventually be subjugated by others. For long, this man fought a war and disregarded the signs: Death had decreed the end of it, for peace to move in, and this man refused to see what lay in front of him. His place was to see, and he failed. So, Death came not only to the war but to him. Foolish, to think mere effort can keep the living to live and the dying to die; only Death can choose. You!”

Adam’s finger, the same finger that had so casually indicated the death of the Priest, was now firmly indicating a direction. Only one person was along the line indicated; one of the two men helping the white-clad killer. Though the man was looking the other way and preoccupied with the body, something drew his attention and he turned to see the finger. He stiffened slightly, as if in salute.

“You’re the Priest now.” Adam’s eyes, which until now had been looking around fiercely, now slowly began to unfocus. “Someone will tell you your duties. None of these, though. Maybe him,” the finger drooped a bit at the white man, “maybe Him.” The capitol was evident to everyone in the room.

Adam’s mouth opened slightly, as if to continue. Then his hand dropped once again to his side, and his mouth closed.

Silence again. The pain was still there, but the new Priest would see to that. He made a silent sigh, and at that moment the far-off Arch suddenly opened. Just for a second, but Adam felt it and knew. For the first time in too many days, the corners of his lips moved upward a bit.

He smiled.



And so, I died.

canta 6, verse 54, Proverbs of Adam

 
@ the nations of 'als, sidar, and halluchuirp
if you sign a peace treaty (or any treaty) please post it in the thread (when you are ready)

@the 'als and the halluchuirp

Shroudane produced some food and gold this turn and i added these to your stats but without an official declaration as to who is going to govern the ciy, i haven't added shroudane province itself to anyone's stats

@ALL:

stats will very likely not be available until tomorrow- sorry- just to busy with RL today.
 
no, no RP- a shared city doesn't produce RP (even with a treaty to share the city).
 
i realize that in some cases i sent stats without the changes to your techs from tech trading--- i will fix that and resend stats... if i messed up your stats- please advise me.
 
triple post:

there is a lot of info in post #3- i would check it out if you haven't recently... you can learn some stuff about your rivals.

Also: stats done! (i think)
 
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