SLNES I: Masters of Ethereal

[Starlife]

My Dear Arenoir, you Speak of ethereal, of the essence of the being. I speak of the vessel of the essence, the body. While it is true that all life, that all Souls, are identical, mere shavings of the Force we know as Magic, which return to that whole upon the death of the body, That is only nominally relevant to the present conversation. While, yes, on the whole, Life on this world is ephemeral, floating sparks in the night, That does not mean that a better world can not be created for Life. And, while, as you say, Dwarf is Man and Man is Goblin, that is only true in the deepest essence of existence. While on this, or any, world, those differences matter. I seek to make these differences NOT matter, so that all of life can achieve a higher level of unity.

This lord of the valley understands what you speak. Yet unity is discontinuous and within it are those who would lack effort to stay within it. Lord Arthurdin. You may do as you wish. We will not interfere with the glory of your efforts or the valiance of your axe. We will even welcome you as a dear friend. But we will stay here in this valley to guard the sacred stories of the Goldtier, forever to keep our maidens safe, our rocks vibrant, and our trees swaying in the dry wind. Our realm is ours only, and does not belong with the unity.

OOC: They often speak in riddles. They are kind of xenophobic. You are Dwarven, though, so you can at least communicate with them and be their friends. But you won't get success with them arguing your point about your dream kingdom. They won't join you peacefully, either - unless there is something else up your sleeve (which there very well may be later on, if there isn't already).

 

[thomas.berubeg]

ooc: do they at least accept the idea of trade?

 

[Starlife]

ooc: do they at least accept the idea of trade?

OOC: That depends on what you are trading or offering to them, specifically.

 

[thomas.berubeg]

I'll write something up tomorrow about the industry of the Dwarves of Arthurdin, so there'll be that... Plus whatever comes through from the Halfling trade: Luxury goods and the like. Just, generally stuff the Dwarves of Arenoir won't have seen before. Maybe even luxury foods they don't know.

 

[Starlife]

I'll write something up tomorrow about the industry of the Dwarves of Arthurdin, so there'll be that... Plus whatever comes through from the Halfling trade: Luxury goods and the like. Just, generally stuff the Dwarves of Arenoir won't have seen before. Maybe even luxury foods they don't know.

OOC: Sounds interesting. We'll see what everyone begins to write up as being part of their culture and what will be going through there. Could be that some of the Dwarves in the manor would want to trade, perhaps without their lord's consent (black market).

 

[nutranurse]

Spoiler Plans for the Empire :

...Within Megoria's Citadel...​

The First Matron was large with child. It took Horn-Leader Pineion Horn-Cruncher less than a second to see the oh-so-regal 'Queen' was at least three months along. He could smell the bred Minotauress long before he entered the dim council room; he could smell her state despite the spicy smoke of incense that clung viciously to the air. The Chieftain snorted to try and clear the raw, earthy scent, but only succeed in letting loose dark globs of mucus all over his embroidered vest. He crushed the snot with one mighty hand, not caring much for the state of the vest because it was not his armor. Besides, his attention was very much elsewhere. The First Matron reeked.

Not that the stench was particularly uncommon. All of Horn-Cruncher's hoofmaidens waddled under the weight of unborn calves--his own fine work--and just the other sennight he blessed his sister's firstborn. What set the Queen apart was how her scent made Pineion's innards roil, his heart quicken, and his mind lose its way in its need for her. She was enchanting. Horn-Cruncher unabashedly watched the heifer's udders move as she spoke something or another to the assembled horned-keepers. How he wanted her. How we wanted to know who had had her.

Horn-Cruncher certainly was not the only one thinking those two thoughts. He noticed Shield-Chaser ogling the queen too, and judging by the mooncalf grin on Tooth-Ripper's face he was fantasizing about something very pleasant...

"Horned-Keepers of the realm," the Queen's actual voice was far more stern than the voice that whispered sweetly in Horn-Cruncher's head, "We need a direction. It is unwise to sit idle and complacent."

An awkward silence answered the Queen until the gathered minotaurs realized that she had given them the right to speak. Only Horn-Cruncher was brave enough to do so.

"South."

"South?" The Queen locked her all-white eyes on Horn-Cruncher and the other Horned-Keepers followed suit. Horn-Cruncher snorted again.

"South. First Matron... Your Majesty, it is where my tribe, the--"

"The Oxia, yes I know from where you hail. That is not the question. Why south."

Were it any other Horn-Cruncher would have crunched their horns, but the First Matron's own lovely, decorated horns were only deference. "Yes, My Queen... First Matron. You see, the south holds many riches. Our fathers and our fathers' fathers found much plunder to be gained from the Orcs of the south."

Some grumbling began. Orcs and Minotaurs did not have amicable pasts, not because of any great wars fought between the two races or genocides and other such atrocities committed by both sides, the Minotaurs simply were split on whether Orcs were honorable foes or not. Horn-Cruncher felt that they were. Had it not been for the southern Orcs his horns would not have broken off in the ribs of an Orcish raider and he would not have crunched the horns of any bull or cow who mocked his state.

Shield-Chaser, a western Minotaur through and through Horn-Cruncher noted mentally with disgust, was about to speak out when the Queen abruptly spoke.

"We are not raiders any more, Calf Pineion. Our glory will not be secured through petty raids."

"Well, First Queen," Horn-Cruncher began in a fluster, in part because he had been distracted by the curve of the Queen's horns, "They have a castle."

"A castle...?"

"Yes... They have had the castle for many summers now. Whole generations worth. My great-sire lost his eye attempting to overrun it. I... did not mention it because it cannot be easily taken."

The room was silent and the Queen clearly pregnant with deliberation.

"I doubt it would be easy, Calf Pineion, but we shall see..."

And with that the First Matron left the room. She did not dismiss the Horned-Keepers and left to their own devices they would engage in more inter-tribal matters, but for the moment all eyes were on the retreating Queen's backside and their minds very much elsewhere.

 

[vruchten]

nice story

 

[erez87]

Camrol was walking nervously in his castle. He was nearly alone in the meeting hall of Stabila with only a few guards walking in and out on their job protecting the castle. Camrol was playing with his fingers, producing small balls of light and crashing them under his thumb as some sort of game to release nerves.
"Guard! Have news arrived?" he snorted out with much of his nervous self being shown. His eyes were burning in all sorts of colors, most likely a part of the game with the mana balls.
"No sir but watchers have reported seeing a messenger on his way. News should be here any moment." The guard stood in his spot and answered. Camrol nodded and the guard moved on.

Oh mother. Please bring good news from Portal! Have trade commenced with nearby villages? What news does the sea hold? It cannot be worse than my dead brethren! Oh my mother and mother of all. Are they Ok in the underworld? Can you tell if they are well? Is the god of the underworld a honorable one like you my mother? I tear for the lost I cry a day for every single one lost. Those filthy and unruly barbarians will pay dearly.

News of the barbarian castle reached just a few days ago. Camrol was not shocked but he smelled opportunity in the castle. A castle once honorable turned into a freakish monster raiding and destroying others. Camrol knew the actual residents of the city were religious barbarian folk following a mysterious force that gave them some magical abilities to enchant weapons and fight with great bravery. Camrol could only think that mother nature herself was the being that enchanted them when they were still honorable. Yet now they were ruled by outsiders who made their city into a bastion of villainy. Camrol will deliver them from the maniacal outsiders and towards the light of mother.

 

[Massive Attack]

The bodies floated in deep pools of pure blood, contained within large brass tubs. Bodies was a bit of a misnomer, for they were not the corpses of a single sentient. Instead Drael had to put these corpses together for the spell to work.

First of course, was the matter of finding fresh bodies. Drael, a Dark Elf, was not so cold-blooded to kill his own people; so, he had sent out a few of his men to find target bodies. They brought back four bodies, two Elven females and two Orcish males. Drael and the other Dark Elf warlock—a woman by the name of Karosa—then proceeded to play the part of butchers. They carefully drained and stored the blood. Then, then removed all of the innards, muscles and bones. The bones were discarded, the creatures being created wouldn't need such solidity. With only the skin left, they carefully cut the skins into half horizontally.

From there, Drael grafted the half-side of a female corpse to the opposite half-side of the orcish male corpse. While Drael was performing this exacting surgery, Karosa took the meat and organs and grinded them up into a fine gristle, much like a sausage. The gristle was then reinserted into the corpses and they were sewn so securely that water could not enter. The preserved blood, and a lot more, was put into the brass tubs sitting at the center of the arcane diagrams they had drawn according to the spells directions.

With the spell components prepared, Drael and his companion began the actual spell itself. Drael would do the spell for one of the tubs, while Karosa would do the other. Purple light began to eminate from the lines inscribed in the sand floors and the air became heavy with mana. As the spell proceeded, the corpses soaked in the blood in the tubs as if like giant sponges, until all of the blood in the tubs had been soaked up. At the same time the skin began to change and merge into one single skin, taking on a grayish hue. At the end of the spell, arcs of mana lightning cascaded through the brass tubs into the bodies, causing them to jump and hold in the air.

When the spell receded, Drael slumped from exhaustion, sweat across his brow and most of his bodies. He only had to wait a few moments when the two bodies, almost as if liquid, slowly moved to an upright stance and took a humanoid form. The gray body was long and skinny, with arms that reached down almost to its knees. The eyes, which had been removed and the lids sealed shut before the spell, were so black that they seemed to have the absence of existance. The creatures had no mouths and were sexless. But seeing the dark elves, one of them fashioned a small mouth and spoke.

“You are my master?” It said very slowly, as if practicing the concept of speaking.

“No.” Drael responded. “Your master is the lord of this citadel. His name is Juukeshi. Now, if you would take a suitable form, we can discuss our lord's plans for you.”

 

[vruchten]

To the goblins of thuggee
Dearr, grroblinsh of the rraimore rrhange. We send grreetings frrom ouhoower leadrr, Ng'graa Akh'rrr. Do you have anhy business on the norclove steppes? If so thrrough us. And we could trrrade!

To Haru Gom
Dearr, fancy elven girrls, stay in yourr frorrests. Than there might be peace and trrade.

To Gwynedd
Dearrrh, men frrhom the south. Your realm ends at palinan in the north-east. Do not claim land beyond palinan. Anthing elsshe would be seen as an invasioon.

 

[Immaculate]

Hi Starlife. I want to replace my fifth circle knights with these. I realize I need heavier infantry so I made up some with plate armor. I know it takes 1 turn to replace a design. That’s cool with me.

Gwemwins

Spoiler :

200 mechanical infantry
Trained (4)
Shortsword (or mace?) x2 (0)
Crossbows (0)
Plate (16)
20 gold
10 gold to maintain

Gwemwins are the heavy infantry manufactured en-masse from the bowels of Thuggee iron foundries. Typically they appear as mechanical golems of comical or adorable appearance such as small walking teddy-bears or a pig-tailed children’s doll but despite their appearance they are in fact weapons of war. Each is made from magically hardened bronze (hence the plate) and typically fires tension-mounted projectiles similar to arrows (hence the crossbow)- typically from the mouth or forearm. Though many have hands, these are typically wickedly clawed or conceal long scythe-like blades or are weighted for use as clubs (hence the shortsword (or mace?) weapons). Gwemwins are magical constructs and can obey a variety of fairly complex commands including guard this area, patrol here, attack, defend, put on an adorable parade, etc.

Because they are mechanical constructs, they never tire, never age, and never need food or sleep. They do however need to have their parts repaired or replaced after battle or injury.

Diplo

• A group of 12 armed Thuggee (mostly goblin but also human and dwarf) arrive at the Coratoth Stronghold. They are led by a goblin in a long gold and crimson robe who wears an intricate cowl to cover his face. While the escorts are Thuggee guards, the masked goblin is a member of the secretive Circle Society though his rank or role within it are unknown.
  
  Greetings to the denizens of the windy Hawekmire Steppe, the hunters and ranchers of Coratoth,
  From the machinists and miners of the people of Thuggee,
  
  Behold the power of the secrets that lay beyond the veil, of the whispers within whispers, of the shadow cast by thine shadow, the Many Circle Society. We have come in peace that we might forms bonds of trade and mutual cooperation. We understand you to be hunters, ranchers and leather-workers and we have need of goods that you might provide, of solid meats and supple hides. We in turn might provide you with the finest cast iron-wares, salts from the great sea beyond the southern mountains, of charcoal and timber
  
  Will you accept our caravans to your city to do trade with you?
  
  
  
  
• Via private messenger to King King Soan, of Palinan
  
  Greetings to the king of the sea-merchants of the great southern city of Palinan,
  From the machinists and miners of the people of Thuggee,
  
  King Soan, your merchants no doubt know of the Raimore forest as a dark and quiet place, full of brackish bogs and small enclaves of men eager for trade but with few goods to offer. All that has changed with the coming of the veil of veils, the secrets of the Raimore mountains, the Circle. Now the twin rivers of North and South Saltmere have become highways of trade, trade we invite you to take advantage of. In the coming spring season we envision the opening of harbors upon the Saltmere rivers and barges that might carry the goods of our great foundries to the markets beyond our lands, to your markets. In return we are open to your goods.
  
  Come, trade with us that we might both grow fat and prosperous. What say you, will you send your ships to the Saltmere rivers of the Raimore forest?
  
  
• Via private messenger leaders of the Knighted city of Senda
  
  Greetings to the brave knights who man the walls of Senda
  From the machinists and miners of the people of Thuggee,
  
  You have need of our iron-wares, our armor and swords for they are the most finely crafted the world has yet seen. Open your harbors to our barges that we might trade with you and bring you the trade goods your army requires.
  
  
• A group of 12 armed Thuggee (mostly goblin but also human and dwarf) arrive at Choras. They are led by a goblin in a long gold and crimson robe who wears an intricate cowl to cover his face. While the escorts are Thuggee guards, the masked goblin is a member of the secretive Circle Society though his rank or role within it are unknown.
  
  Greetings to the wild men of Choras,
  From the machinists and miners of the people of Thuggee,
  
  Know that your people and ours can live in peace for as long as you remember that the forests and mountains are ours. If you forget this, we will bring the wrath of the one wrapped in secrets to your humble steppe city and remind you.
  
• via messenger
  
  Greetings to gnolls of the Akhoowoo pack
  From the machinists and miners of the people of Thuggee,
  
  We accept the borders you have suggested. We will respect your claim to the steppe lands if you remember that the forests and mountains and a small perimeter area surrounding them (30-50 miles) are ours. In any battle you engage with the men of Senda, Palinan, or Gwynned, know that you will not have our blessing or support but neither will we raise arms against you.

 

[vruchten]

Greetings to gnolls of the Akhoowoo pack
From the machinists and miners of the people of Thuggee,

We accept the borders you have suggested. We will respect your claim to the steppe lands if you remember that the forests and mountains and a small perimeter area surrounding them (30-50 miles) are ours. In any battle you engage with the men of Senda, Palinan, or Gwynned, know that you will not have our blessing or support but neither will we raise arms against you.

This is verry agrrreable for us. And be noticed that we offers mercherary services if you want to.

 

[Starlife]

Hi Starlife. I want to replace my fifth circle knights with these. I realize I need heavier infantry so I made up some with plate armor. I know it takes 1 turn to replace a design. That’s cool with me.

Gwemwins

Spoiler :

200 mechanical infantry
Trained (4)
Shortsword (or mace?) x2 (0)
Crossbows (0)
Plate (16)
20 gold
10 gold to maintain

Gwemwins are the heavy infantry manufactured en-masse from the bowels of Thuggee iron foundries. Typically they appear as mechanical golems of comical or adorable appearance such as small walking teddy-bears or a pig-tailed children’s doll but despite their appearance they are in fact weapons of war. Each is made from magically hardened bronze (hence the plate) and typically fires tension-mounted projectiles similar to arrows (hence the crossbow)- typically from the mouth or forearm. Though many have hands, these are typically wickedly clawed or conceal long scythe-like blades or are weighted for use as clubs (hence the shortsword (or mace?) weapons). Gwemwins are magical constructs and can obey a variety of fairly complex commands including guard this area, patrol here, attack, defend, put on an adorable parade, etc.

Because they are mechanical constructs, they never tire, never age, and never need food or sleep. They do however need to have their parts repaired or replaced after battle or injury.

OOC: Looks good. I will replace your unit on the main page.

IC:

Greetings to the denizens of the windy Hawekmire Steppe, the hunters and ranchers of Coratoth,
From the machinists and miners of the people of Thuggee,

Behold the power of the secrets that lay beyond the veil, of the whispers within whispers, of the shadow cast by thine shadow, the Many Circle Society. We have come in peace that we might forms bonds of trade and mutual cooperation. We understand you to be hunters, ranchers and leather-workers and we have need of goods that you might provide, of solid meats and supple hides. We in turn might provide you with the finest cast iron-wares, salts from the great sea beyond the southern mountains, of charcoal and timber

Will you accept our caravans to your city to do trade with you?

The Gnolls of Coratoth of the Hawkmire Steppe agree to these terms of trade. Will roads be constructed to make our route easier to travel? This would be most beneficial for both of our realms. We look forward to once again seeing foreign goods grace the steppes and our halls. Our leather is tough and our meat is delicious. I think you will be pleased with this agreement.

[*]Via private messenger to King King Soan, of Palinan

Greetings to the king of the sea-merchants of the great southern city of Palinan,
From the machinists and miners of the people of Thuggee,

King Soan, your merchants no doubt know of the Raimore forest as a dark and quiet place, full of brackish bogs and small enclaves of men eager for trade but with few goods to offer. All that has changed with the coming of the veil of veils, the secrets of the Raimore mountains, the Circle. Now the twin rivers of North and South Saltmere have become highways of trade, trade we invite you to take advantage of. In the coming spring season we envision the opening of harbors upon the Saltmere rivers and barges that might carry the goods of our great foundries to the markets beyond our lands, to your markets. In return we are open to your goods.

Come, trade with us that we might both grow fat and prosperous. What say you, will you send your ships to the Saltmere rivers of the Raimore forest?

Our fair city has become prosperous as of late due to trade with the realm of Gwynedd to our south. If you trade with us, you also trade with the Wizard who rules that realm.

[*]Via private messenger leaders of the Knighted city of Senda

Greetings to the brave knights who man the walls of Senda
From the machinists and miners of the people of Thuggee,

You have need of our iron-wares, our armor and swords for they are the most finely crafted the world has yet seen. Open your harbors to our barges that we might trade with you and bring you the trade goods your army requires.

We hardly see the benefit of trading with a horde of Goblin bandits who wish to ransack the Raimore and enslave innocent Dwarven villages. We will not contribute to Thuggee's war machine.

[*]A group of 12 armed Thuggee (mostly goblin but also human and dwarf) arrive at Choras. They are led by a goblin in a long gold and crimson robe who wears an intricate cowl to cover his face. While the escorts are Thuggee guards, the masked goblin is a member of the secretive Circle Society though his rank or role within it are unknown.

Greetings to the wild men of Choras,
From the machinists and miners of the people of Thuggee,

Know that your people and ours can live in peace for as long as you remember that the forests and mountains are ours. If you forget this, we will bring the wrath of the one wrapped in secrets to your humble steppe city and remind you.

We have no business in your realm and have no wish to incur your wrath.

 

[thomas.berubeg]

To: All Prospective Trade Partners (Lord Wendell The Tall, Envoy Lucius, Lord Arenoir, Orcs of Yalek)

These are the goods Available for trade.


The Industries of the Realm of Hadhodrond

The Hadhodrond Citadel Region:
The Dwarves toiling in the Area of the Citadel produce the traditional stereotypical Dwarven goods, wrought from the Silver, Stone, Iron, and Gems extracted from within the Hearts of the Goldtier Mountains themselves, and Wool shorn from Mountain goats and sheep.
While some income is produced from the export of these raw materials, It is with finished goods that the Dwarves of Hadhodrond have made their mark on the trade networks of the region.
These Include:
Finished and Cut Gems. (Mounted or Not)
Statues (Stone or Silver)
Silver Cloth (Wool and Silver)
Toys (any and all resources) – Note: these have a reputation, likely because of the ambient mana, of being very realistic and lifelike automaton.
Weapons (Iron, Gems, Silver, dependent on Quality)


The Erebor Regions
The City of Erebor is Situated in prime Agricultural land, and so many of the trade goods are produced from agricultural products.
The Industries include:
Some Wheat (Imported from the Halfling Lands) – Bread, Straw, Wheat Beer
Apple Orchards in the Hills – Cider, Apples
Grape Vines in the Hills – Wine, Grapes
Sheep/Goats – Meat, Wool, Milk, Cheese
Honey – Honey, Mead (and Variants thereof: Cyser, Melomel, etc) Wax
Various Berries – Berry Liquors.


(Yes, agricultural products are heavily weighted towards various alcohols, but that IS intentional: Alcohol is much safer to drink than anything else in an age before water purification plants.)



Are Any of you opposed to the Initiation of Trade?

 

[Northen Wolf]

Spoiler My view of a wizard tower :

 

[LDiCesare]

To Gwynedd
Dearrrh, men frrhom the south. Your realm ends at palinan in the north-east. Do not claim land beyond palinan. Anthing elsshe would be seen as an invasioon.

A bird is seen over Akhoowoo, of gold and red and blue feathers. It flies high, dropping small but smelly feces as it flies to the citadel. To the gnolls it meets, it sings, before fllying away as soon as the gnolls make gestures towards it:

O furry ones, listen to us.
Your threats sound like barks in the night.
You cannot claim land without right.
If we move north, you'll make no fuss.
You'll stay far away from our walls
Wherever we build them, you dogs,
Or being turned into hedgehogs
Will be your fate, as it befalls.

 

[vruchten]

A bird is seen over Akhoowoo, of gold and red and blue feathers. It flies high, dropping small but smelly feces as it flies to the citadel. To the gnolls it meets, it sings, before fllying away as soon as the gnolls make gestures towards it:

O furry ones, listen to us.
Your threats sound like barks in the night.
You cannot claim land without right.
If we move north, you'll make no fuss.
You'll stay far away from our walls
Wherever we build them, you dogs,
Or being turned into hedgehogs
Will be your fate, as it befalls.

The northern norclove belongs to the gnolls inherently. But we are not arguing rights, we are just stating terms and conditions. It is up to you if you follow them or if you decide to life with the consequences.

 

[Terrance888]

A scream rent the air. Wrentas, in the middle of a speech to his Thanes, suddenly sat up straight, listening to the wind.

The scream repeated again, and the growls and hoots of orcs can be heard in the distance. The Thanes looked at Wrentas hesitantly as he slowly pinpointed the location of the cries. “They are in Goodburrow… They are in good burrows darn it! Gregore!” he called.

“Yes sir!” cried the plump Halfling.

“I want you to gather your hurlers and push them out! We need to save the Halflings of Goodburrow. You! Civic Thanes! You call up your militia and wait by Thorton Creek! By Wendell they won’t escape after raiding us!” Breathless, he gave out more commands as the various thanes scrambled away to sound the alarm. Halfling cries can be heard all around how, some from the encampment near the growing city and some near the ravaged villages. Orc voices rose upon the wind. Wrentas cursed and ran towards Goodburrows. Then he stopped. “Mage of Horace’s Point! What are you doing here?”

The blue-cloaked and hooded Halflings stood in a rough circle. A square marked between four of them, while the fifth stood upon a small triangle. A forked like from the tip of the triangle bisected the square. They rose heir staffs and swaying, chanted to the air. “We are calling the powers of Our Goddess.” Spoke the leader, “She will lead our magic against the bandits.”

“How long will it take you?”

“She is not our slave… slight one.” Spoke the leader. The voice was flat, yet hid deep undertones and currents. “Her power is her own to give to those who ask.”

“Good,” grumbled Wrentas as he ran away the magical circle towards the growing sounds of battle “Won’t be much of a Goddess otherwise.” The leader now resumed chanting, his staff stabbed into the earth and now glowing blue like his own cloak.

----------------------

“Gregor do this, Gregor do that” muttered the thickset Halfling, “Doesn’t appreciate how I have to manage more Prefects than he as Thanes. Garth! Go around behind those woods and pelt them! I want their arms broken and bleeding!” The other Halfling bowed, and with a wave of his arm, lead a dozen others down the slope to a wooded area near the river.

The battle was not going well. The Orcs Towered over the Halfling skirmish line, and although they had repelled their first charge with a volley of well-aimed stones and let the survivors escape, they are regrouping to charge again.

However, as they ran towards the thin line, gaps appeared in their mob. Stones, slung and thrown, pelted their lines and downed orcs: a broken arm here, a pierced eye there. From the sides came a volley of stones that surprised the orcish band. Their shields on their left hand didn’t block the stones from the right side. At the same time, small tendrils of water seeped through the ground and began to entangle their feet.

With a cry of dismay, they broke in front of the Halfling line, and began to retreat. Retreat became rout as they fell. Wounded were left to hobble on their hurt limbs as they tried to escape the victorious Halflings.

As they entered the flood plain, a large wave of the Blue Bane came upon them. Shrieks of pain sounded, and suddenly stopped as they were frozen in their tracks. The wounded that caught up to them also faced the same fate. The frozen sculptures of orcish faces showing immense fear and pain would last for another week into the spring.

Gregor walked up and help deliver the coup de grace to the wounded orcs still alive. They growled at him and many killed themselves to save the secret of their homes, while others are too wounded, and were put out of their misery. No prisoners were taken, because no one was fit to be taken.

From above the hill, Wrentas nodded with satisfaction. Gregor is learning, and so was he.

 

[thomas.berubeg]

To the City of Yalek:

It is said that beauty draws all of life together, and that an exchange of knowledge is the most fertile soil for a long friendship. I am Lord Arenoir, and I seek to enter into friendship with the people of Yalek. While Orcs and Dwarves are not inherint enemies, nor are we fast traditional friends. I intend to change this with your help. I see no easier, nor more pleasureful manner to do this than to initiate an equal trade between our people, bringing us ever closer. Do you wish to initiate trade with us?

 

[Starlife]

To the City of Yalek:

It is said that beauty draws all of life together, and that an exchange of knowledge is the most fertile soil for a long friendship. I am Lord Arenoir, and I seek to enter into friendship with the people of Yalek. While Orcs and Dwarves are not inherint enemies, nor are we fast traditional friends. I intend to change this with your help. I see no easier, nor more pleasureful manner to do this than to initiate an equal trade between our people, bringing us ever closer. Do you wish to initiate trade with us?

A group of cloaked Orcs arrive at the Citadel of Hadhodrond, carrying chests filled with various trinkets.

Lord Arthurdin,

We have brought these goods to you to show what we have to offer. We are makers of highly detailed stone engravings. For a long time, the Canas Hills have admired our workings in this medium. As such, we are mostly artisans, working in a fine tradition that has been passed down to us for centuries. Our city was once part of the great Orcish kingdom that merged the Goldtier with the Sul. Of course, this was thousands of years ago, yet those stories still intrigue us. We often make carvings of those tales, with recurring heroes and certain themes we hold dear.

Does your realm have something equally special to offer us? Keep in mind our engravings are in high demand. They decorate the sides of villages and castles throughout the land, including the facade of Horace's Point. For the most part, our city has everything it needs. Certain special items, though, are always curious to us.

- The artisan Gilg Alaman

OOC: Geez, I know I gave bonuses for "trade" - but is there nothing else to talk about right now? If you guys are all sincerely wanting to create trade kingdoms, go for it - but if you are just trying to take advantage of a bonus next Update... merh. There are other ways to get bonuses. I give bonuses for originality and clarity.