Ffh Nes Ii
- Thread starter Immaculate
- Start date
Immaculate
unerring
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2003
- Messages
- 7,623
you and two other players should have updated ley-line maps... please pm or e-mail if you didn't get them.
orangelex44
Partisan
Thank's to everyone who voted for this story - and to those of you who haven't, feel free to join this exclusive club!
nutranurse
Unlikeliest of Slash Fics
- Joined
- Jan 30, 2009
- Messages
- 2,077
The only great shame which we observe is the arrogance of the Bannor leaders. I regret to inform you that my Queen and her council has decided that the Mist Elves will not and cannot contribute to the monetary provisions for the Ritual of Life. However, in mine own eyes I see that the Mist Elves are already providing the means to preform this ritual- for the tomb resides within our lands- and we provide protection through our Elven hunters stationed without the tomb and province.
~Penned in the hand of Yara of Common House Tandir, Chief Diplomat to the Edsunland Nations
++++
A Separate Missive Sent to the Amurite Nation
In accordance to our prior agreement and out of our gratitude for your open-handed ways with knowledge we have begun to construct a permanent residence in the city of Idril Felagund for your magically inclined scholars. This is a great gift to your peoples, for no non-elven race has dwelt amongst my peoples in all the records of our history.
~Penned in the hand of Yara of Common House Tandir, Chief Diplomat to the Edsunland Nations
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
To Bannor
We have sent every coin deserved and, even if you didn't receive it, are not in debt anymore and shall send reguar shipments.
Our people are angrey of your unaction, and call for the breakage of the vassalage agreement. We do not support such cases but we do not think it was worth it.
Slight Out of Character
Finally, we would have taken charge but our mystical power of PM is jammed by the extensive use from the Nesing and Forum Gaming multiverse portals and were not able to contact with our allies. The rise of out of world work (HW) has caused a decline of officials.
We have sent every coin deserved and, even if you didn't receive it, are not in debt anymore and shall send reguar shipments.
Our people are angrey of your unaction, and call for the breakage of the vassalage agreement. We do not support such cases but we do not think it was worth it.
Slight Out of Character
Finally, we would have taken charge but our mystical power of PM is jammed by the extensive use from the Nesing and Forum Gaming multiverse portals and were not able to contact with our allies. The rise of out of world work (HW) has caused a decline of officials.
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
now with audeo accompaniment... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V34v9oLvSSg
To Lord Malus and the Luchuirup Nation
From the Surviving Abysswalkers
Our once proud organization has finally come to an end. This is our final message to you, you won't expect to hear our names again.
To Lord Malus and the Luchuirup Nation
From the Surviving Abysswalkers
Our once proud organization has finally come to an end. This is our final message to you, you won't expect to hear our names again.
Immaculate
unerring
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2003
- Messages
- 7,623
what the hell seon? pope benedict the sixteenth?
is that your living room?
is that your living room?
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
No, it was just some random video I found in the youtube that I randomly selected out of my very randomy nature
Immaculate
unerring
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2003
- Messages
- 7,623
yeah right- thats your wife singing i bet.
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
I am 15 
, and I am not even that devout follower of Christianity
, and I am not even that devout follower of Christianity
Northen Wolf
Young Hunter
Immac, most important (and maybe last) E-mail sent, You may post this diplo, or alter it anyway you wish.
Thanks for everything!
Alar (Northen Wolf)
Thanks for everything!
Alar (Northen Wolf)
orangelex44
Partisan
I don't know if anyone really noticed, but LDi, I have to ask - what the heck are you planning? And how did you manage to do it?
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
I bet 2 dollars that zombies being so numerous is partly his fault
Tyrs
King
And can you teach me how to do it too?
Ekolite
Deity
- Joined
- Sep 15, 2007
- Messages
- 5,451
OOC:
If you do not pay you will be destroyed Charles, the Kuriotates have already payed half of your contribtion. You will pay this 10 gold, or the zombies will destroy you. This has nothing to do with our ridiculous vassalage agreement, which for the record was absolutely not worth it and brought me nothing but trouble. I would recommend against anyone else attempting a similiar agreement with him, it's a waste of time.
This payment is for no other reason then to spare your miserable Grigorian hides.
Actually, if he pays the 10 gold for the ritual, I may place him under my military protection (note note vassalage only my military guarding and any aid troops can provide) until they can support themselves and when they decide that they no longer need the protection. This protection will only be extended if they want it.
EDIT: this will be troops only no other type of aid will be given
Also to any deplaced citizens of any nation the lands of the Hippus are open to any refugees and will be given citizenship.
EDIT: this will be troops only no other type of aid will be given
Also to any deplaced citizens of any nation the lands of the Hippus are open to any refugees and will be given citizenship.
Nyark Nyark Nyark... Thou shalt see. Rest assured I won't strike at your forlorn, continent.
I'm afraid not.
No, I didn't create thousands of zombies. I wouldn't have unleashed them upon the Grigori anyway.
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
Come on, LDi, you can teach me, surely 12 non-magical Abysswalkers cannot create zombie apocalypse here...
In the crowded streets of Troday Yithi, a man clad in robes that used to be yellow walks. People who see him shy away, as if he was surrounded by an invisible aura: All those nearby feel cold, and those who look at him avoid his gaze, awed or afraid.
The man doesn't mind the crowd.
He could walk unnoticed, but it is no longer time for that. This is no longer the time for subterfuge. Therefore, he walks straight up to the Council, purposeful...
Councilors don't seem to notice him at first, as they are busy having an argument.
"We need this food, says one Grigori elder. The farms barely give enough for us to survive. If the winter is bad, all of us will be starving to death within a year time. We should fund more farms, and send the refugees to the fields and fisheries.
-What do you mean, send us? We are not yours to move around as you like!"
The man who answers is a man missing a hand. Rumours have it he had the arm bit by a zombie, so he smashed the monster's skull with his axe and then cut off his own arm before the disease could infect him.
"We didn't flee Renthai Yithi to become slaves here. We are still Grigori. We will perform whatever jobs we want to. You won't force me or my sons to farm a land if I don't want to. We won't obey your whims.
-Calm down, Yishmael, started another elder, you...
-Oh, you shut up, the mess in Renthai happened because you couldn't move your butt and decide what to do.
-Ah yes? And what did YOU do Yishmael? If I remember correctly, you asked the first refugees to pay a toll to use your ferry. How many died because of YOUR greed?"
The maimed man would have replied, but that is the time when the newly arrived speaks.
He doesn't speak loudly, but his voice is heard by all. It is a strange voice. Both deep and hollow. It feels remote even though the speaker is in the room. It feels unearthly even though the speaker is on this soil. It feels inhuman and disembodied, even though it is uttered by a human body. Or is it? It feels... gelatinous? Can it even be described?*
"My name is Yeotiel, son of Parthenel. You should remember me. I was the commander-in-second of the Fists of Balance when we were killed by traitors after beating Grak's legions."
The argument between the councilors has stopped. No noise can be heard inside the council now, but Yeotiel's voice.
"Not all of us died this day, although I did. One of us survived. There's always a survivor to tell the tale of fallen heroes. Tuan, the youngest of us all, survived. He had been the first to scale Grak's walls, and he had been among the first to fall after landing on the other side of the palisade. We had thought him dead, but he wasn't. He had been knocked unconscious by a blow to the head. He came back to his senses only in time to see us be slaughtered by our 'comrades'."
The councilors shudder as the ghostly voice utter more hatred in this single word than they ever heard.
"He feigned death. He survived, and decided that the Fists should not die. The Grigori shouldn't be left without defense. We shouldn't be beaten by a coalition of liars. So he studied, and studied arcane ways for years. He endured pains even I cannot imagine, and he managed to bring us back. Today the Grigori need us more than ever. And the Fists of Balance will not fail you.
Do not trust the Bannor. They are Junil's slaves and even Junil is unhappy with them. They could have stopped these mindless beings years ago but did nothing. You were their vassals and they didn't protect you.
Do not trust the Hippus. They struck us, they struck the Clan. They are bloodthirsty bastards, worshippers of Camulos who can't be talked to or trusted.
Do not trust the Amurites. They destroyed an entropy node but did they use that power to quell the Dove Yellow? No, they learnt mind magicks, the magics of liars and tricksters, of worshippers of Mammon who would sell their souls for a shiny coin.
The elves, Kuriotates and Kappa are afraid, and will perform a ritual to get rid of our enemies, but will they succeed? Will they receive paiment? You can bet the Bannor gold will be unavailable, because so much of it melted in their towers. You can bet the Hippus will build up their military again instead of helping with the ritual. You can bet the Amurites will do something sneaky yet again.
The only ones you can trust are your own people. It is time for you to request help from those who were your best. We braved Death itself to come back today. We died once, and we understand the dead much better than you do. We are not mindless like those Dove Yellow, and we know what they are and how to defeat them. You haven't been able to fight the zombies, but we can. We know how to, and I, Yeotiel, son of Parthenel, commander-in-second of the Fists of Balance, swear it to you: We can save the Grigori."
The man stops, and takes off the hood from his head. His face is handsome, that of a man in his early thirties.
"You will tell me your answer. I don't ask anything from you but that you become the proud nation you once were. Stop shivering and begging your neighbours. Tell me you accept our help, tell me you are ready to be proud again, and you will be saved."
Yeotiel turns away, and walks out of the council. As he does so, a sunbeam pierces the clouds, and for a moment, his handsome face looks grim. From where he looks, Yishmael-of-the-single-hand sees an empty eyesocket in Yeotiel's face, and his chin looked broken.
Yeotiel puts back his hood upon his head, a hood which used to be yellow a century ago, and, his handsome or broken face hidden in darkness, walks back into the streets.
*(with apologies to H.P. Lovecraft)
The man doesn't mind the crowd.
He could walk unnoticed, but it is no longer time for that. This is no longer the time for subterfuge. Therefore, he walks straight up to the Council, purposeful...
Councilors don't seem to notice him at first, as they are busy having an argument.
"We need this food, says one Grigori elder. The farms barely give enough for us to survive. If the winter is bad, all of us will be starving to death within a year time. We should fund more farms, and send the refugees to the fields and fisheries.
-What do you mean, send us? We are not yours to move around as you like!"
The man who answers is a man missing a hand. Rumours have it he had the arm bit by a zombie, so he smashed the monster's skull with his axe and then cut off his own arm before the disease could infect him.
"We didn't flee Renthai Yithi to become slaves here. We are still Grigori. We will perform whatever jobs we want to. You won't force me or my sons to farm a land if I don't want to. We won't obey your whims.
-Calm down, Yishmael, started another elder, you...
-Oh, you shut up, the mess in Renthai happened because you couldn't move your butt and decide what to do.
-Ah yes? And what did YOU do Yishmael? If I remember correctly, you asked the first refugees to pay a toll to use your ferry. How many died because of YOUR greed?"
The maimed man would have replied, but that is the time when the newly arrived speaks.
He doesn't speak loudly, but his voice is heard by all. It is a strange voice. Both deep and hollow. It feels remote even though the speaker is in the room. It feels unearthly even though the speaker is on this soil. It feels inhuman and disembodied, even though it is uttered by a human body. Or is it? It feels... gelatinous? Can it even be described?*
"My name is Yeotiel, son of Parthenel. You should remember me. I was the commander-in-second of the Fists of Balance when we were killed by traitors after beating Grak's legions."
The argument between the councilors has stopped. No noise can be heard inside the council now, but Yeotiel's voice.
"Not all of us died this day, although I did. One of us survived. There's always a survivor to tell the tale of fallen heroes. Tuan, the youngest of us all, survived. He had been the first to scale Grak's walls, and he had been among the first to fall after landing on the other side of the palisade. We had thought him dead, but he wasn't. He had been knocked unconscious by a blow to the head. He came back to his senses only in time to see us be slaughtered by our 'comrades'."
The councilors shudder as the ghostly voice utter more hatred in this single word than they ever heard.
"He feigned death. He survived, and decided that the Fists should not die. The Grigori shouldn't be left without defense. We shouldn't be beaten by a coalition of liars. So he studied, and studied arcane ways for years. He endured pains even I cannot imagine, and he managed to bring us back. Today the Grigori need us more than ever. And the Fists of Balance will not fail you.
Do not trust the Bannor. They are Junil's slaves and even Junil is unhappy with them. They could have stopped these mindless beings years ago but did nothing. You were their vassals and they didn't protect you.
Do not trust the Hippus. They struck us, they struck the Clan. They are bloodthirsty bastards, worshippers of Camulos who can't be talked to or trusted.
Do not trust the Amurites. They destroyed an entropy node but did they use that power to quell the Dove Yellow? No, they learnt mind magicks, the magics of liars and tricksters, of worshippers of Mammon who would sell their souls for a shiny coin.
The elves, Kuriotates and Kappa are afraid, and will perform a ritual to get rid of our enemies, but will they succeed? Will they receive paiment? You can bet the Bannor gold will be unavailable, because so much of it melted in their towers. You can bet the Hippus will build up their military again instead of helping with the ritual. You can bet the Amurites will do something sneaky yet again.
The only ones you can trust are your own people. It is time for you to request help from those who were your best. We braved Death itself to come back today. We died once, and we understand the dead much better than you do. We are not mindless like those Dove Yellow, and we know what they are and how to defeat them. You haven't been able to fight the zombies, but we can. We know how to, and I, Yeotiel, son of Parthenel, commander-in-second of the Fists of Balance, swear it to you: We can save the Grigori."
The man stops, and takes off the hood from his head. His face is handsome, that of a man in his early thirties.
"You will tell me your answer. I don't ask anything from you but that you become the proud nation you once were. Stop shivering and begging your neighbours. Tell me you accept our help, tell me you are ready to be proud again, and you will be saved."
Yeotiel turns away, and walks out of the council. As he does so, a sunbeam pierces the clouds, and for a moment, his handsome face looks grim. From where he looks, Yishmael-of-the-single-hand sees an empty eyesocket in Yeotiel's face, and his chin looked broken.
Yeotiel puts back his hood upon his head, a hood which used to be yellow a century ago, and, his handsome or broken face hidden in darkness, walks back into the streets.
*(with apologies to H.P. Lovecraft)
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