PureNES: Epoch of Glory

[Nylan]

OOC: Hope it's okay Iggy. I'd have you confirm it first, but well...about half an hour to deadline, that's not really and option anymore.

Fool's Journey​

Captain Ulrich inhaled deeply as he stepped out onto the deck of the Belathyma. The sun was just coming up, and he could see its reflection glittering back at him from the shores of Elesius. The air was fresh, the morning was cool, and best of all, they were ahead of schedule. Behind him, the other ships under his command were gliding smoothly over the water’s surface, and Ulrich’s chest swelled at the thought of them. These ships were his, at least for a time. It had been many years since the government had paid Captain Derin J. Ulrich any attention at all…but look where he was now.

The sun was fully over the horizon by the time the Belathyma made port. The men busied themselves running back and forth from the dock to the ship, resupplying. There was not a lot that needed replacing. After all, they had just made port on the other side of the continent all too recently, where a more complete refitting and preparation had taken place. This was merely a short stop, meant to ensure that the Captain was prepared for anything as he set out on a fool’s journey west.

As the morning grew brighter, the Captain decided to make landfall himself for a short time, to take a look around this strange new land that was Elesius. It had a grand air about it, but the sparse population deflated the sense of importance that the glittering city tried so hard to capture. Always interested in architecture, Ulrich set off towards a large, columned building, hoping to see firsthand the unique designs of the Justinians.

He had gone but a few feet before he saw a strange looking man. He was dark skinned and bald, clearly from Hadir. What puzzled Ulrich is the ship he was carrying something towards was clearly not Hadiri. In fact, it was Metti. Ulrich shrugged, and continued on.his way up the cobbled street.

When he finally arrived at his destination, he saw a young boy in an old cap staring up at the building. He seemed to have the same idea as Ulrich, curious about the strange design of these buildings. He did not see architecture like this back home much anymore. Ulrich walked up next to the boy and stopped, not bothering to look at him, he continued to gaze upwards. Then he spoke.

“Well you’re a long way from home.”

The boy looked around and gave a start, no doubt surprised by the flamboyant pinstriped uniform Ulrich wore, as well as being addressed in general. He gave a sheepish grin, and a weak reply.

“My home is on the seas now, sir.”

Ulrich smiled kindly. “No doubt it is. I’m sure by now you know that seafaring is not all fun and games, the old tales hold only a grain of truth about life on the seas. But then, if you did not know that, you would not still be sailing, would you? I was like you once. Keep your chin up, even when life gets hard. It may not be a bed of roses, but if you play your cards right, then when you do have your moment of joy, it will be all that much sweeter. When your dreams seem just out of reach, stretch yourself a little further. Dreams are some of the greatest things on this earth. Don’t ever give up on them.”

Having lost interest in the white pillars of the building, Ulrich turned on the spot and returned to the ship. He did not know why he had lectured the boy like that, but no matter. He had business to attend to….or was it his dreams? In any case, things needed to be done. Ulrich would not have it any other way.

***​

Lord Nolan paced back and forth in his study. He was impatient, and nervous. War was beginning as they spoke, in the south men were already marching off to end corruption, although he was not entirely sure that it would be gone when they finished. He could only hope that the war stayed away from him and his family.

After a time, Lord Nolan left the comfort of his home and walked to the north of the city, joining the men patrolling the battlements. The King did not trust the Callixti and quite frankly, Lord Nolan agreed with him. It was quite possible that they would invade while Gosica’s eyes were turned southward. Then again, that was why Nolan had been ordered here in the fist place. He and his men were to defend the northern borders at all costs. A two front war, while possible, was not exactly a comforting thought to the King.

As he thought, his mind wandered to Mr. Ulrich. He wondered how well his trip was going, and if he hadn’t been apprehended by the Metti. Lord Nolan winced at the thought of this. His reputation was riding on that man, to have it tarnished before the journey had even truly begun was not a comforting thought.

His thoughts then turned to Gosica itself, and the changes it had seen. The roads were being improved, railways were more and more common, and Lord Nolan was sure he had heard planes flying to and fro on a number of occasions, although he had never spotted one. The times were changing yet again. Trade was encouraged, yet there was a war coming. That would of course be of great benefit to metalworkers, and the economy would feed off of this war, if all went well. The navy was off, doing Seraph knows what on the King’s orders. Lord Nolan just hoped this was a short war. Arios had seen enough bloodshed, and to say that the other continents of the west had not had their fair share was laughable. Then again, it had to be done. Mettlingen’s Guilds were a thorn in the sides of many, many people, and the more destitute nations were used and abused by them. Something had to be done. Unfortunately, not many world changing events are quick and painless. Quite the opposite, really.

 

[alex994]

OOC: Things are getting so exciting!

 

[Lord_Iggy]

That's a nice little crossover. Young Hawkesbury seems to be a target for advice from old people.

 

[Nylan]

It's the hat.

 

[jalapeno_dude]

Escalation​

He had known, of course, that Thyssen was doomed. He suspected, indeed, that Thyssen knew it himself.

What a fool. Valuing family and so-called morality over his own life. Such people are fit only to be tools.

Jacob's attention was focused entirely on the situation in Alhaven. He had created a business that could run itself, one that was important only as a catalyst. Then he had moved on, to more important matters.

He wondered if the guilds really believed that their decisions were secret. It had not been hard to obtain a full report of the proceedings at their Clave, for those in the upper echelons of the guilds did not bother to hide their contempt for their underlings.

More fools. A tool must be carefully shaped and controlled, so that it does not twist in one's hands.

The Gosican coalition's declaration of war had come as a pleasant surprise, or it would have been had it not already been expected. The Guilds had grown powerful, but had not exploited their opportunities, hurt by their divisions--for when one fell, the others soon followed.

Whether they managed to win this battle or not, the Guilds were doomed. It was inevitable that their trading networks, at least in the north, would be shattered--and by the time they could be rebuilt, others would have taken their place.

Even nations can be tools. In this world, almost all are pulled by the invisible strings of their manipulators. And given sufficient leverage, even the largest mass can be moved, even the most seemingly eternal balance overturned.

So it will be.

 

[North King]

Well, I'll update with what I have.

 

[Birdjaguar]

What great stories and the map is just wonderful! I am jealous.

 

[alex994]

What great stories and the map is just wonderful! I am jealous.

Why would you be jealous of the stories? YOUR NES HAS STORIES TOO!!! Well... not really

 

[Lord_Iggy]

This IS a Pure Story NES.

 

[North King]

Shush, everyone; I'm writing the update. Probably won't finish it tonight, as I'll be made to go to bed, but it's coming along nicely.

There is one huge plot twist that Thlayli will probably kill me for.

 

[Lord_Iggy]

Sounds like fun!

Shushing up now.

 

[jalapeno_dude]

Shush, everyone; I'm writing the update. Probably won't finish it tonight, as I'll be made to go to bed, but it's coming along nicely.

There is one huge plot twist that Thlayli will probably kill me for.

What, you mean Jacob taking over the entire world? That's not a plot twist so much as an inevitable plot development...

 

[Thlayli]

Allo.

Since NK seems to be in the thick of updating, I'll let him finish and maybe add a few supplemental stories. Answers to questions, and particularly the things LittleBoots needs from me, will be in soon.

 

[Kozmos]

The noise of the restless and rowdy men could be well heard outside the chamber room. It was nothing short of chaos. The geopolitical situation in Alhaven could be best described as a bloated, overloaded keg of gunpowder with a very, very short fuse. And he was about light it.

"It's time Mr. President."

"Huh? Time for what?"

"For your speech to the Senate. Surely you havent forgotten?"

"No, I havent Walker. Just one question..."

"What sir?"

"Do I have my pants on?"

"Uhm, yes you do Mr. President."

"Good. Alright, lets do this thing."

Walker opened the door for him. Bill walked in confidently into the chamber room, his head held high. The Senators and Congressmen got up from their seats as sign of respect to the President. With a wave of the hand and a slight nod, he signaled them all to sit back down. Making his way to the podium in the center of the chamber he greeted several of his friends.

There, he handed out a few documents to his Vice President Roy Mayer before taking the front podium. From the podium, he spotted an old friend near the exit. He was a rather young man in a dark suit with a trenchcoat and he smiled at Bill from afar. Bill would smile back but he had to start the speech.

It was a rather long speech which dealt with many internal matters, like boosting the focus on the developing arms industry, expansion of URA territory and probably the most important issue to the common man of Alhaven: cutting the tax on beer. The proposed plans were generally well received by Congress with a number of loud applauses. There was but one issue left to deal with.

"Thank you, thank you gentlemen. As my address to you draws to an end I want to talk about one last very important thing. First however, I would like to send a message to all of the wretched dens of corruption and tyranny, otherwise known as the Guilds. They have their spies among us even as I speak, carefully watching our every action and remembering each word we say. Well I want to send them a message. A message for them to take to their masters."

Bill turned around to his Vice President and gave him a slight nod. Roy knew what had to be done. He opened a case under his desk and took out a standard army rifle. Handing it to Bill, he closed the case. The sight of a rifle in the chamber alerted several senators and congressmen. Bill held the rifle in his right hand and raised it above his head. Then he shouted as loud as he could:

"FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS!"

The intended message sunk in with the Congress and a thunderous applause followed. Bill lowered the rifle and continued:

"Yes, the Guild have repeatedly tried to repeal the Fourth Amendment. Now you realize how devious and corrupted the Guild have become. They have penetrated almost every layer of our society and influence everything. Cant you see what they are trying to do? They are grinding us down. Taking our lands from us, our hard-earned money, our freedom and our future.

This is a time wrought with fear and the land is wrought with change. If our ancestors could hear what is happening today, they would turn in their graves. They would be ashamed that the Land of the Free is bound in chains.
Well I say no more! The timing is right! We must free ourselves from the corrupt guilds and take them down one by one!

We have been in the shadows long enough. I ask you gentlemen of the Congress to mobilize our land and naval forces and drive the blasted Dresden into the sea. No we cant let them take any more from the Land of the Free, The Alhaven Continent. I believe we can do it and I sincerely believe we will be greeted as liberators. No matter what is your final decision, thank you and have a good night."

Bill got down from the podium and headed for the exit. Roy was right behind him. Everyone in the chamber was on their feet, cheering and clapping. He won their approval. As he entered the hallway his wife ambushed him.

"Oh Bill I just saw the whole thing. You were so confident and decisive up there."

"Dammit Tina, leave me alone. I'm nowhere near drunk enough to have sex with you. Go home!"

"Fine, be that way."

As she left their company, Walker and Adamska joined them.

"Not a bad speech old friend."

"Adam! How was it in the cold eastern parts of Arios?"

"It was as you can assume cold and miserable. But the liquor was good and the women were warm."

"Did you obtain what I asked?"

"Yes, I managed to get most of the blueprints and schematics."

"Give them to Roy, he will take them to Donald Anderson. Hopefully he can reverse engineer it. What about your cover?"

"Hahaha, they had no idea I was double, hell even triple-crossing them."

"Good job, all right you all have things to do. Walker where are we off to next?"

"To Senemor via train. Diplomatic mission."

"Hmm, all right but they better not be high like last time."

OOC: Yes, yes I know. But better late then never.

 

[North King]

Update II: Tormentings
1511​

“What the Gods give with one hand, they take away with the other...”

Eastern Karai​

A dragon stands, fierce but battered; fiery blood drips from many wounds. Its long, serpentine body is covered in it; its teeth gleam crimson. Around it slithers a long, silvery snake; its fangs are painted as well, but not its torso: it has not been wounded. Another dragon lurks nearby, golden, this one quite battered as well. All three sense a battle, tensing for the strike...

The factories of Qiankun belch smoke and dust, and great wheels turn, pressing iron into molds and shuffling along barrels. The guns are assembled by hand in cavernous, warehouse-like room, and then shipped far away to the armies at the front. It is an uninspiring workplace; one that becomes mirrored as more and more of the factories spring up in the most massive of the Qiankun cities. Many distrust them, viewing them as the places where foreign devils will conspire to take over the nation, but the will of the Emperor is law, and they continue their work unhindered.

Yet the scene becomes common on the other side of the frontlines as well; the Jin Bo cities are filled with the same kind of places, and advancing Qiankun armies stumble across them. Many begin to wonder, if they are so similar, what they could be fighting for. Yet no one asks the commoners’ opinions, Jin Bo or Yun. So the war goes on.

The recent Yun offensive has been strengthened by the addition of more troops, heavily armed and numerous, with the best modern weaponry they have to bear. The problem being that the Jin Bo, too, have modern weaponry. However, the Yun numerical advantage is enough to carry the day; the Jin Bo are, for the first time in a long time, decisively defeated at the Battle of Qihuan, and the Yun drive a wedge into the center. With the Jin Bo controlling the sea, the two halves of their nation are still connected, but transporting large numbers of troops is out of the question.

Despite the wishes of the Yun Emperor to concentrate in the north, alas, the primary battles of this year were again fought in the south, where the Telcari attempt to continue their momentum, dangerously aware that if they falter or slow, the Yun will be able to turn their advance right back into a crushing rout.

The men behind the violet banner advanced again; this time determined to pincer the Great Wall. The outdated fortifications, just as feared, gave way under intense artillery fire; modern technology making short work of medieval fortifications, with chips of stone blasted high into the air. It is the end, lament many Qiankun, who believe that their day is all too near; the devil-like Jin Bo and their Telcari friends have broken the Qiankun once too many times.

The Telcari make the most of their advance, driving straight through the battlefields that had been held onto so precariously for so long. The vicious battles of a century seem now to be in vain; most of the disputed region has been lost with only a few shots fired.

Yet the wiser heads in Qiankun counsel perseverance. The Telcari, they say, and not without good reason, have taken only the most useless, burnt lands of the Yun. They have gained nothing of value, and will not unless the capital itself falls. Thus, they say, the most heavily fortified cities of the Qiankun, whose redoubts are far superior to the Great Wall, must be held onto at all costs.

The Yun Emperor, for the moment, agreed, and the generals in the southern sector desperately held onto these fortified cities. With a certain amount of luck and skill, several held out, notably Shihuan and Puyi, two cities who anchor a position in which to harass any Telcari attacks northward to the capital. Shihuan’s fortifications managed to hold out the Telcari from breaking their line of supply, and Puyi is under complete siege, falling under intense bombardment, but still strong.

Word comes from the north as well; the news of the continuing war between the minor powers of Ereva and Maniyah is disregarded in light of more important news: Shevien has entered the war, striking southward and taking a few islands, along with the Liao Peninsula. They claim they will aid the Yun Emperor if he will grant them certain concessions, and aid the Jin Bo if he should prove immovable.

The Serpent and Dragon struggle all the more powerfully now, and the titanic clash has become tenfold more brutal. Whether it will end in the destruction of one or the other remains to be seen, and on either side of the line, frantic work on the capitals’ fortifications continues.

Arios​

It came as no surprise to anyone, except those who had been determinedly piling their own cairns. The Guilds, after all, were unpopular; their great degree of success was not only envied, but stood in the way of others. Those others were exceptionally numerous; enough so that they could drag down the edifice that had stood for so long: the powers of Mettlingen, rulers of the Central Seas.

The attack fell swiftly, and no more so than on the Metti mainland, where the Gosicans, apparent leaders of this coalition, struck southwards into the home territory of the Metti. The Guilds, of course, had expected just such an attack, but scarcely resisted at all; a few forces of the national government were all that blocked the path of the Gosican army, which marched forth with full air support, and some of the best soldiers in the world. Any defense fell to pieces; the only thing that stopped Gosica from swallowing the Metti mainland whole was a halfhearted Princepii landing in the east. The first few weeks of the war seemed all too easy.

Of course, it was exactly that. The Gosicans hadn’t secured anything beyond a few large cities, and crowds of confused farmers. The merchants were either already abroad or had fled there, and the treasure of the Guilds, so legendary, had been moved; they had it ready to be shipped as soon as word came of the attack, and the largest shipment had passed, guarded so heavily that not even the largest flotillas of Gosican ships dared challenge it; rumor has it that it went West, for where else could it go?

The Princepii continued their attack on Mettlingen where Gosica could not; a quick strike into the Hadiri colonies was launched, but stalled rapidly when they met, after quite rugged, hostile terrain, heavily fortified, well defended cities.

The Gosicans, somewhat stunned by their own success, were nonetheless bitter over the lack of money gained; it had been a costly venture, and the budget was strained. Despite the best efforts of the generals, some soldiers took to looting the common people, and quite a lot of resentment flared up in Mettlingen. The Gosicans shrugged this off, as it was expected, and readied for a war at sea.

However, that war progressed much more slowly than anyone would have desired, or expected. The Gosicans alone were of course not strong enough on the waves to challenge Mettlingen, and their efforts staggered from the twin blows of losing the Princeps and Jathalland. The Princepii, for their part, were still in the war, just exceptionally distracted (see below), and Jathalland, having previously agreed to help out the Gosicans, got cold feet at the last moment, and a declaration of war failed to pass Parliament.

Yet at the same time, the war still moved with haste; the URA advanced with joy into these territories which they had coveted for so long. Again, Metti resistance was light. The merchants knew they did not have the power to battle the URA on their home soil, and simply watched it fall away. Meanwhile, they crushed various Gosican, Taenevix, and URA fleets on the high seas, relying on their boundless treasuries to keep them afloat. It seems they simply intend to outlast the powers around them, and without Jathalland’s help, it will be a long siege indeed.

The war, frustrating as it has been for the Gosicans, their allies, and foes, has provided something of a boon for other powers. Particularly, the rising Doria family managed to acquire quite a lot of business, being a neutral power, and thus able to flit from port to port without fearing attack (though some privateers were naturally unscrupulous about who they assaulted). Also, Jathalland found its own vessels to be fairly natural alternatives to Metti shippers; their stranglehold on the northern seas has merely solidified.

Sinara, for its part, was content to sit the war out, deciding, on the whole, that it was better not to get involved for the moment. However, this is hardly a sign of weakness; merely of indecision as to which side to pounce on: the Metti supply their weapons, but breaking the Sinaran reliance on those weapons could be a boon.

Of massive significance though it no doubt is, this War of the Seas has overshadowed several other important and not so important events. Several of them ought to be noted.

The expedition by the mad Gosican Ulrich to the west was widely derided by the opposition in Gosica, and this could only increase when all contact and word of the expedition was lost. One of the ships returned home to port in Elesius, but it transpired that their crew had simply mutinied, and did not know the fate of the other five vessels; said mutineers quickly took to the burgeoning piracy business. URA advances against the natives in Alhaven naturally continue as well; the continent has largely escaped the problems of the war, as the Metti territories in the south had fallen so easily, and so many alternative shippers were waiting to take over the trading.

Events on Thule transpire exactly as expected, which is to say, in quite a brutal and bloody fashion. “Northlings” from the trackless wastes of the tundra seem to easily crush the states in their path; the True Gleanne pause momentarily in their conquering spree to regard this new threat, and decide on the best way to deal with it. The mysterious Ljos, while probably not commanding the army of demons that is rumored, advances on the last knightly state of Icehold, which settles in for a last desperate siege; on the other side, the Aalenouri fall back further in their botched civil war. Einsfrodir seems to crush Falstad, though the frostbitten northern forts somehow manage to hold out.

Varulo seems to make a bid to hold its entire peninsula, which shocks no one. Also not shocking anyone is the brutal and rapid conquest of the Noble Houses by Cyrusicum which, if anything, seems to be accelerating its pace. Jathalland, in response, further props up Greyharrows.

The Conclave and Aeltan make further advances in Buridisia, and are opposed by hardly anyone, as Compiarda has chosen to focus away from Arios and the north; still, their gains are far from uniting the land, which remains utterly divided. A similar land (politically, at least), Sinara has its rebellions in the north crushed by Princepii forces who paused on their way south. But then, with recent developments (again, see below), it seems Sinara may well burst into flame, along with perhaps all of Arios.

Western Karai and Southern Celia​

The winds of change are ever shifting. While their northern neighbors, the Naians, seem simply impervious to the wear and tear of history, the Saranir are not so fortunate: they have come under attack by several of their neighbors all at once. The Anski and the Sakani have crushed armies in the field, and their forces, more mobile, more numerous, more advanced, and far better led, apparently cannot be stopped by the rapidly declining empire. In desperation, the Saranir have ceded what land was lost in the south to the growing Kattavarasa, and appealed for help to Naia, who expressed only cold indifference, and the Telerian Empire, whose response has not yet arrived.

Kattavarasa’s war is going quite well, as Daraj seems to be falling apart at the seams. The ancient empire sees more and more fronts open up as Allavari and numerous rebel groups join the fray; one group of mutinying cavalrymen have come close to attacking the capital itself. Even though they turned away, the respite is likely only brief. Vishva himself leads the Kattavarasan forces closest to the Daraji capital, and he seems close to establishing his dream of a united, casteless, free Daraji state; whether he will come into conflict with the more traditional Daraji states to the south is yet to be seen.

Hadato, falling increasingly into a decline that no emperor can seem to stem, sees the numerous rebellions gather speed; the easternmost prefecture has been taken, and his reforms may well be extremely short-lived if his increasing incompetence is not reversed.

The pirates in Liassan waters mostly cease to exist, due to a continuing, vigorous campaign, though the leadership in Liassa has been lackluster recently. At the same time, ships bearing the Doria banner have appeared in southern waters, taking up much of the trade that Mettlingen once owned. A new power is rising, it seems, and no one has stood up against it.

Hadir and Northern Celia​

The fleet of the Princepii had been utterly triumphant in Beria. Not a single recalcitrant fortress remained to oppose the will of Compiarda, and the last spark of resistance had been crushed. The Princepii fleet instilled order on every island. Yet it was far from the end.

Sailing north with great haste, billowing jet clouds of smoke and ash, the Telerian fleet was anxious. They were, of course, skilled seafarers, but this would be the first true action with the ironclads, and some doubted in the metal skins’ ability to keep out the shells. There was no rigging to man, either; merely a few men shoveling coal into a blazing furnace, and a few more abovedeck, peering into the distance warily.

Onward they slid, across the smooth surface of Celia.

They had the advantage of some modicum of surprise. Eléone had expected the Telerians to act against him, but not in so direct a fashion. Still, it was difficult to surprise the man that the world agreed was the greatest military strategist in history; he had constant patrols running, and got some warning. The Princepii ships boiled out of the harbor immediately, and the plumes of smoke grew ever closer.

The armadas met head on; each one turned as rapidly as possible so as not to be caught by a broadside across the bow. The turrets turned in near unison from each side, and they rumbled with the thunder of the powers that be, old and new. Shells traced fire in the sky, and they smashed into their counterparts.

The first half hour of the battle was perhaps the only real decisive part. Great leaps had been made by Telerian technology, but they were still quite obviously on the lower end of the technological ladder; their ships, facing most of the naval might of the Princepii, were torn to pieces. In the end, shredded by gunfire, they limped home; engineers immediately took on the task of building to replace them, but the losses were a blow.

It was the beginning of a much larger conflict.

The Princepii, infuriated by the bluntness of the Telerian assault, decided on a similarly direct assault: not on Telerius itself, but on one of their major armies. Compiarda returned to Sinara, gathering more armies, and preparing for yet another major campaign.

At the same time, the Telerians rushed to complete their own plans so that they could hunker down for some kind of defense. Haffasa was easily swept aside, and the king of that nation was executed in a suitably regal fashion: his head was cut off. The Telerians sent the message very clearly: the Ipe states would not interfere with the war against the north, or the full might of the Telerians would crush them. The Haffasans, for their part, could offer little resistance, as they were herded rapidly onto vessels en masse, and shipped to the Mournful Coasts and the Spice Isles, where they made excellent, if reluctant, colonists.

Thus securing their southern flank, the Telerians, fearful for their Hespiron friends in the face of the wrath of Compiarda, focused an even larger armada in this area; it was less technologically advanced than the assault on Beria, but its size somewhat made up for that; it was much larger than anything the Princepii could throw at them. Hespiron, hopefully, would be safe.

This, of course, was not at all what happened. Compiarda was not content to let a few moldering hulks stop his wars of conquest; he assembled his armies in Sinara, crossed the Gates of Fire, and landed a formidable army in Hadir; one of the finest the world had ever seen. It needed no ships now, for Compiarda was at heart a land strategist, and had always desired to conquer the world; national borders meant nothing when he had an army at his back.

The magnificent Princepii army departed their colonies, and cut a swath through the Alqazar’s east coast. While the Caliph protested feebly, it did not deter the leonine conqueror; he ignored the Caliph and marched on, subduing any city that stood in his way. A quick ambassador to the Darian Emperor took very little time; said Emperor was quite pleased to accept Princepii assistance, even if he would lose some of Hespiron’s territory in the deal.

The Telerians realized far too late that everything had gone wrong, and, despairing of any victory, General Lucianus ordered a withdrawal, determined to salvage an army from this fiasco: he knew that a court-martial would no doubt be forthcoming, but it was no matter; his men’s lives were more important than one general.

The fleet was put to good use, and only skeleton garrisons were left in Hespiron; the cities fell at the whim of Compiarda, who stood triumphant again; already his men talked of marching down the Ipe coast, and all the way down to the Telerian colonies far to the south, and attacking them from that more manageable distance. Teleria, too, realized the same plan. Lucianus, in despair, ordered a last ditch effort to fortify and protect the deserted city of Haffasa from Princepii assault, before boarding a ship to Telerius, and likely his career’s end before a firing squad.

The Darian Emperor himself came to greet Compiarda, who graciously received him in Hespiron’s own capital, eating on the captured dishware from the withdrawn Telerian forces. The feast was sumptuous, and many plans were overheard; the conquest of Telerius was least among them.

All in an instant, it happened. A servant carrying a large platter of foot dropped it, apologized profusely, knelt to clean it all up, drew a knife, and plunged it into the heart of the Darian Emperor. He died in seconds, and the servant killed himself before anyone knew what had even occurred. Compiarda had only begun to rise, intending to rush to his fellow Emperor, when he, himself, felt a deep pain in his chest, and fell.

On the night of their victory, the emperors of two great nations had suddenly been slain.

Incredibly, things seemed to be looking up for Telerius at the last possible moment. The disastrous war had suddenly turned around; Compiarda was dead. His son would no doubt take over in Palantia to the far north, but the fifteen year old were not Compiarda’s equal in strategy; he would vow eternal revenge on Telerius for their suspected involvement in the poisoning, and perhaps die trying to attain it. Daria had lost its own semi-divine lord, and the country would no doubt fall into succession struggles. Their opponents had fallen to pieces, new ironclads were laid down with astonishing speed, and the entire world, perhaps, seemed within the grasp of the Telerian Emperor moments after it had all seemed lost.

* * * * * * * * *​

Diplomacy:

To: Qiankun
From: Shevien

Do excuse us, but you seem to be in a bit of a fight with the Jin Bo. For the cession of the Liao Peninsula to us, we will fight on your side.

To: Qiankun
From: Telcari

We are willing to end this conflict–if all lands up to the Great Wall are ceded to us.

To: The New Telerian Empire
From: The Saranir Empire

Please, assist us against these steppe nomads. We have been enemies in the past, but you are the last one around to stop our civilization from falling to savagery. Only a few troops of yours would turn the tide; in exchange, my heir will marry one of your princesses, and we shall be allies.

OOC: Very little to say, except that I’m really quite bothered by the lateness and general lack of stories or orders.

 

[North King]

Mappala of Doom.

 

[Lord_Iggy]

Yay! Nice update North King!

 

[alex994]

OOC: *sends hate mail to North King as promised*

I dare assume the twist was the death of Compiarda and the Darian Emperor?

 

[jalapeno_dude]

Nice update!

 

[Nylan]

I can't say I'm suprised...it seems like exactly the sort of thing Panda would do, and I've never even played with him before. In any case, lots of plotting to do...

Excellent update, btw


EDIT: Nation stats are coming sometime soon, I assume?