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TerraNES: The Civil Experiment

Discussion in 'Never Ending Stories' started by Terrance888, Nov 13, 2011.

  1. Tycho

    Tycho AFK Forum Warrior

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    The Iron Lances; A Summary


    When the Iron Lances were first created by the First Iron Prophet, no one knew how they would do. The Faith’s former militias and military orders had been disbanded when the Faith had finally arrived in the Promised Lands, and had settled down in the central city that they deemed the new holy city until Sarkov could be returned to. In that time, with the Iron Prophet rising up in the city and becoming the biggest and the most powerful man within the Faith itself, the Iron Lances were born from the Iron Prophet’s words and his calls for a powerful force of the gods to rise up, take up the lance, and march forth into the night to deal out justice to those who would say that the Faith is bloodthirsty, and those who do not and shall not listen to the holy word as it has been set forth by the ancient prophets, and those who wrote the original Codex.

    But on the subject of the Iron Lances themselves… there are multiple offshoots, color corresponded to the color of the Faith that the members of the Iron Lances adhere to. Grey Lances are typically the more militant and more powerful ones, who are more vicious and ready for combat, while the Violet Lances are in support roles, and in officer positions to lead the men along with the Grey Lance commanders. Not only is that, but the Faith offshoots like the Martyr’s Faith in the Lances as well, so that they can seek holy death and destruction in battle that they seek.

    The Iron Lances do not go directly into combat, and are still primarily within the Faith itself as far as the militant wing goes, but the Iron Lances have replaced the Red Faith guards that were once so common back in the ancient homelands. The training of the Iron Lances is much similar to that of an Unsullied, but different in many aspects.

    At the age of five, children that go into the Iron Lances are trained up from the standard Adept level, to the Adherent, to the Lance holder, and up to the Elite level when they are older and they have had combat experience or have been promoted by the Iron Prophet or the head of the Faith. At the age of eight, the trainee receives an honorary scar, typically on their back, of a lark or a songbird, and when they become Lance holders, they receive a scar on their chest of a star with as many points as there are gods in the Faith’s pantheon. After that, upon the entrance into the Elite ranks, several other scars are engraved into the flesh of the Iron Lancers. Typically, these sigils are on the neck, and are of a raven, as well as runic symbols on either hand that read “Forever Strong, Unbent and Unbowed”.

    From the age of eight onwards, the Iron Lancers are given much combat training and lessons in the Faith to the point of becoming fanatical members of the Faith, bordering on the Fanatics of old who once flung themselves into the spear walls of the enemies on the difficult and trying March north. They are trained in the use of their Lance, which is actually a spear of eighteen feet long, made out of ash or oak wood, as well as training with dual wielding swords, knives and bows. Occasionally, Royal Guard soldiers are brought in to help train the new members of the Iron Lances, as well as the fact that the Royal Guard and the Iron Lances spar with each other on orders from both the King and the reigning Iron Prophet. Many Royal Guard and Iron Lances soldiers have received training and combat time with both sides and in many cases have served with the other unit before joining their current unit.

    For the officers of the Faith, they receive a higher education than the standard member in the Iron Lances, typically exceeding that of most middle class people as well. They are trained in the use of tactics, strategic and battlefield analysis, as well as the management of logistics and working with the logistical backbone of that of the army on the march. This is primarily to ensure that there is not a repeat in the army like there was during the Second Winter War, in which the Red Faith was born from ash and fire. Not only that, but each person in the officer corps is instructed to write and read poetry, books, scrolls, and other paper materials as well as literature and Faith Doctrine, as well as materials taken from the ruins of other civilizations in the old homelands. This is to ensure that the Iron Lances know their enemies, and know them well enough for the future prophecy to be fulfilled.

    Healers and medics within the Iron Lances have a primary job in peace time of coming up with new healing methods and materials so that in war time, all can be well. This stocking up on valuable medical material and on materials to make sure that the wounded can fight again if they are able is the largest of its kind, and it comes about after the disastrous southern campaigns during the First and Second Winter Wars, in which the Faith and the soldiers that were serving with them at the time were pushed back continuously time and time again, due to the lack of fighting soldiers that were not wounded to the extreme. The Faith would rather not see an event like that, which indirectly led to the founding of the Red Faith when they fed upon the flesh of the dead, happen once more.

    Iron Lances are typically grouped in groups of about fifty or so, of which there are ten in a unit, known as a Lancer brigade. Made up of five hundred Lancers, the Iron Lances are split into pairs inside of their groups, and they are supposed to guard their partners to the end, as necessary, and recover the bodies, tokens, swords, and the Lances themselves, as well as the standard flags and the banners, if the unit is an elite group. The Lances and the swords, as well as the bodies are very important in the teachings of the Iron Lances, which include the veneration of the dead, and the recovery of the Lances, which are to be passed down the line to new recruits and new trainees so that they can know that the Lance that they wield was held by people who gave their lives for the Faith.

    The standard of the Iron Lances is a white star, with as many points as there are gods in the Faith pantheon, with two Iron Lances behind, crossed together. This standard is wielded by the commanders on the battlefield, and by the Standard Holders on the battlefield. Standard Holders are in the elite units, and are essentially the morale boosters of the units and the leaders, and it is their job to keep the battle standard in good shape, and to make sure that it is well kept and make sure that it stays intact. A unit that cannot keep the standard and loses it has shame put on them all, and the unit is then disbanded, and the men are sent to training once again, for another decade. Many men would rather die than go back into the Iron Lance’s training program; so many units will toss themselves at the enemy in order to recover the battle standard, no matter what.

    Since the Iron Lances replaced the Red Faith guards, they guard the leader of the Faith himself, as well as the current Iron Prophet and the commanders and officers in both the Iron Lances and the army of the nation itself, to make sure that assassination attempts cannot occur. This was indeed a massive problem during the Winter Wars, when enemies would send assassins to slay the high commanders of both the Faith and the military, which ended with plenty of generals, commanders, and officers in the military’s dead, which was quite a hassle to work with, since a war was happening at that time.
     
  2. Tycho

    Tycho AFK Forum Warrior

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    The World Burns; Words of the Firebrand Prophet


    Please note, that the words of the Iron Prophet (as set down by him and several Violet Faith scribes), do not represent the majority of the opinion of the Faithful.

    They say that when the people of Sarkov left their homes, that they could take whatever they wanted from us, and what we had built in the place that we had once called the homeland of our fathers, and our father’s fathers, and the fathers that were before them, for hundreds and hundreds of years. We were beaten back, forced to retreat and forced to fall back, after we had fought, bled, and died. Valyria had been built on brick and blood and stone, on ash and fire and conquest, and on power and victory and upon honor. The ones that overthrew us, destroyed the pride that had been Valyria as a nation, Valyria that had been a power, Valyria that had been the ruler of the known world… they did none of that. We fought, died and bled in the name of forging a nation, a nation of iron and steel and blood. A nation that was forged in the fires of the sun, the fires of the gods of old that we had venerated for so long. Then the godless Zirilites stormed in, engaged us in the Winter Wars, as the Samnites that we had unshackled hundreds of years ago as we rebuilt brick by brick their destroyed cities rose up against us and turned out hospitality, our happiness, and our brotherhood and fraternity with them against us and smashed into us with fire and blood of the martyr’s on their hands, as Apulia and Liguria marched upon us and slaughtered people by the hundreds and the thousands, and as the Grey Dawn rose above the world…

    They blamed us, for creating the Red Light, the Red Light that was our salvation and our victory to free ourselves from the shackles of our situation, the shackles of a nation that collapsed and died all around us as we fought on and on and on, despite what happened. They blamed us, the blasted Ctyrians did, about the Red Faith and what they wanted to do so badly when they came into power, what they wanted to do because they starved when the Ctyrian aid did not come and the soldiers of the Red Faith were forced to feed on the flesh of the dead. They blamed us, when the Red Faith sought the death and destruction of those who would destroy us, when they had done more to harm us than any others. The Zirilites despised us, and they feared us for what the Red Faith had done, as they should have. The Samnites had what came to them at the Immolation of Kora-Torr, and they deserved every drop of blood, every blow that they received for the destruction of what we had wrought for them long before. And the people of Liguria marched upon us, no matter what we could do, even as they condemned what we did. They blamed us, but they are the ones that led to the creation of the Grey Death and the Red Death, as we left them to deal with what they had created and wrought from our wrath upon the world. The fires that consumed Valyria and laid the land that had been so prosperous to waste were deserved, as we created the Ashlands and made sure that nothing could claim what had once been ours.

    We had been fools once, bloody fools, and bloody fools indeed. We had trusted others, we had helped others, we were planning on peaceful expansion after our conquests… and yet they laid it to waste. The pride of Valyria was gone, and what came after we heard was horrifying. The Green Death, sweeping in from the East, decimated many people who had once been there, and swept forth to claim all that had escaped the wrath that had not claimed them by our hands… and yet we wished to be there, we wished to know that it was us, our wrath and our rage that had destroyed all that had ever existed and had been built by ourselves, we wanted to show the world that we were not fools to be messed with, that every drop of blood spilt on our march, spent in our wrath, and our rage, spent in the name of our gods and the others was for the death of Valyria that we meted out to all who were there. We wanted it to be us that dealt those blows and let the enemies suffer and die in massive amounts for what they had done to us, what they had turned us into, and what they had forced our hands to do. We released the Longbeards from their slumber and their tribes to the north, and they had to compete with the others to scrabble in the ash of what had once been great and mighty, and let them know that Valyria does not die quietly. We had dealt out the punishment of the gods to all, to all of them. The Toras-North dogs lost their leader, the Apulians were destroyed, the Ligurians laid to waste, the Free Samnites killed off and annihilated, the Ctyrians cracked open and forced to watch as the western half of their Empire crumbled into ash and fire, that consumed it all in the name of the suffering that had been forced upon our people by their so called peaceful democratic order, the very same order that betrayed us all… and yet they cried out for mercy at the end, some of them did. There was none. Not for the women, the children, or the men or the elderly, nor the crippled and the wounded. They deserved it all.

    And yet… our thirst for the bloodshed, our thirst for the destruction, our thirst for the utter annihilation of them all has not been quenched yet. No. It has only expanded and grown even more. We lost a hundred and eighty thousand good people on the Exodus march, and we will be damned if we do not make our enemies pay that price back, the price of blood of many people that they killed, elderly, the infirm and the sick, children as well, we are damned if we do not pay them all back thousand-fold for all that they did to us. When we broke through the passes north and slashed our way out, we started the payback that they so deserved and we meted out the punishment as we deemed it necessary, even as our enemies screamed at us from the walls of their capital to stop doing what we did. Fools. There is no mercy when what you have done to us carried on for years, despite our want and our need for peace with them, when we laid ourselves low so that we could have good deals and agreements with them, when we trusted them and opened our ports to them, when we wished to form an alliance with them. The winds of change are harsh and cold, and we showed them all.

    But we will return one day… one day, we shall return to our ancient homeland, and reclaim it as ours. It may not be in one year, or ten years, or a century, or a millennia, or five thousand years, or eons in the future, but it will happen one day. And upon those days, we shall be the people who judges who lives, and who is sent screaming into the hells that wait with the doors open for the enemies to fall in and become torture souls forever.

    Our wrath, our blood, our fury, will not be quenched. We will carve out our new empire, our promised empire, and once we do, the world will burn, like it has not before. The Iron Prophet has foretold it, and we shall listen to him, and we shall listen to all of the Iron Prophets that lead us forward into the new dawn, into the brave new world that we will march on before it is consumed by flame and war, consumed and enraptured as it burns with the fury and the rage of millions of people, millions of people who cry out at once, calling for bloodshed and ruin. And who are we to argue with them.

    Our time will come. And when it does, the world shall tremble and shake.

    There will be no safety, no hope, and no light if you are not with us. You will only die and be consumed by the fires of rage, the burning fires inside of us all, that need only a spark to be ignited and to be brought forth from the womb of peace, and screaming out into the world so that only destruction and chaos reigns. For we have realized that there is no hope for any of us… we will take as many down with us as possible, and have a merry good time at it as well. A merry good time, that will see the death of more people than will ever walk this Earth.

    For as we have said, the fires shall consume the world… forests in the west that give way to dunes of ash, deserts in the south that turn to glass, wasteland in the east that burns with the fury of hell, and ice in the north that melts and gives way for waves of icy hatred to wash over the world and drown all that are left.

    The world shall burn.

    And we will be the ones who are the catalysts, bringing about its end and the destruction of everything you hold dear.

    The prophecy has foretold it.

    Vi Shaah Sallah.
     
  3. Terrance888

    Terrance888 Discord Reigns

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    ---------------------------------------------
    Raas, Hunter of Horus, watched carefully through the Papyrus reeds...

    King Raas, Lord of Upper Egypt, shifted carefully through the Papyrus scroll...

    For beyond laid the great enemy, one he must overcome alone...

    For wherein laid a great enemy, one he must seek aid to over come...

    Suddenly, there is a rustling in the reeds, and a horrible, fanged head lunged...

    And now, there is a shifting in the balance of power. Heads will roll...

    Raas, Hunter of Horus, gasped as he looked upon the crocodile he had slain in single combat. A lance had lain through its throat, and two daggers had been stabbed into the back before he could smash his battle ax into its hideous heart.

    Raas, King of Damietta and Lord of Upper Egypt dropped the scroll.

    "Raise the Guards! We must launch our planned campaign, now!"

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

    The Mountain King growled as the parchment piled up infront of him. An empire requires an Emperor, and an Emperor apparently requires a good strong hand for signing documents.

    Buying a few thousand spears there, authorizing the assassination of a general there. The Archaic structure of the Mountain Kingdom could not support an empire as his father has conquered.

    So he has sent his sons across the Central seas, to learn of a better way to govern such a vast land. To Sardinia, to Toras-Noth, to Ctesiphod, as well as Damietta, Katan and the Levantine League. One by one, he sent them, with and without approval, to learn, to find, and to eventually teach.

    He snapped out of his thoughts as another pile of papers came to be verified. As Emperor, he needed to know what was going on, but how can he trust anyone else to be his advisor?

    He sighed and scanned the next scroll.

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

    Karov watched as his army assembled. His son Karlov will do well practicing his royal duties by taking care of the state while he goes off to war. The Ostavan trading towns were eager to accept his rule, but their leaders were obstinate mules who refused to join his growing kingdom.

    Under the unfurling banner of the many pointed star, the symbol of the Faith, he marched before the many regiments. They come from the fishermen far to the north, all the way to the mining Frenks to the south. There too, were many stout and loyal regiments closer to his home, who are truly Faithful to the last.

    He raised his axe, and a great cheer rose behind him. Ostava must be unified, for the world is becoming an ever more dangerous place.

    One must break a few skulls to make a drinking cup, after all.
     
  4. Optical

    Optical The Fall of the Eleventh

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    Help me. I don't know where I am.
    To Zhou
    Our diplomats have been sent to negotiate further with you.

    To Kudoba
    In the future, perhaps. Resources are scarce as of now, but a few years should leave our resources open to donate to whomever we see fit. Your clan will be kept in mind at that time.
     
  5. Gem Hound

    Gem Hound Deity

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    In the dark
    King Cernyd sat at the head of the long table as the celebration commenced. Many poets and musicians entertained the guests. King Cernyd was only truly interested in one story however.
    Spoiler :

    After the story was finished, King Cernyd stood up at the table. "I would like to have everyone's attention!" he shouted. The boisterous noise lowered enough for everyone to be able to hear King Cernyd. "To mark this occasion, I will begin the construction of a massive man made island. It will house temples of all the known gods and goddesses in the style that they prefer. I would also like to state, in honour of all the peoples in our territory, I would rename our Kingdom Armorica!" He was answered with roaring noise that sounded like as if they liked his idea.
     
  6. spaceman98

    spaceman98 Plotting something

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    3,639
    To Aden: Into the desert.
    To Kartoros: Good, do not leak this to the Severi and remember, 4IC from you when the war ends.
    To Severi: We would not attack you without provocation.
     
  7. spaceman98

    spaceman98 Plotting something

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    20 Ships set out from the docks of Axum, the wind in their sails and brimming with goods. This was not some minor enterprise, this was an expedition financed from the coffers of Axum, to go as far as it can to the east and bring back what they found. Past the new cities of Aden and Etrika the fleet sailed, and to the straits of Hormus, filled with trade. Up the strait they came to the cities of Southern Mesopotamia. This was the farthest most traders went, but not this fleet, for they were ordered to go east until they had to turn back. Here they heard strange tales from local merchants, of a supperpower in North Mesopotamia known as the Hayaks, of a drydock, the design for which interested them beyond belief. The locals also spoke of manny other things far and wide. It seems the world is bigger than we thought. Far bigger. An expedition like this would do little to reveal most of it. Many goods from foregin lands, unknown in Axum were cheap here. Marble from a western land, known as Greece, was of extremely high quality. And yet this was not their best marble. This was stuff that had been sold and resold many times, through nations even the most adventurous merchants only heard stories of. There were strange animals here, and bizzare plants such as the apple, from lands to the North. But these were known things, compared to what lay ahead. Now they were to go east, into the rising sun, and lands unknown even to the bravest of Axum.

    Gaffar was in charge of understanding the concept of a "drydock" they had heard of this ingenious device from a Levantine Merchant. Since then, he had been trying to find more. He had gathered that it was suppose to be a pool, that filled with water when a gate opened, but little more. Few merchants came here from those parts as there was war to the west. Nontheless, he had compiled what he believed to be a working blueprint. These would be sent back to Axum. Perhaps the kings engeneers knew better, or perhaps he really had grasped this amazing invention.




    A month had passed since South Mesopotamia. The trip had become rather, dissapointing. There were few people on the coasts of the land called Persia. Those few that were here were sheep hearders and bandits at the same time, who would sooner steal your goods than trade for them. Worse yet, many had nothing to trade, so there was little point in coming ashore for more than water. THey had been lucky today to find a tribe of locals that were more friendly. They traded and spoke of many things, but strangest of all, these people told stories of another land east of here with cities and towns of its own. Who knows what may await?
     
  8. Milarqui

    Milarqui Deity

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    Granada, Andalucía, España, Europa
    After some guilt-tripping by Terrance, I am going to take the reigns of the Kingdom of Leon.

    Cadilar Leoneo (Kingdom of Leon)

    Etymology
    The word Cadilar comes from the Leonese word for king, Cadil, who, in prehistoric times, was just a tribe's chief or Cad, with the suffix -il meaning great and the suffix -ar meaning possession, property, so Cadilar would mean property of the king.
    Leoneo comes from the word leon, who, in ancient mythology, was an animal with dark brown skin, two green eyes and four legs, all of which end in powerful claws that could rip apart any of its enemies (it is thought that this may have come from sightings of the Tarteo Lynce), and whose name evokes bravery and intelligence. The suffix -eo means origin.

    History
    Caudilar Leoneo has its origins in the colony of Nova Sarkov in eastern Tarte (OOC: Name for Iberia in this NES, just like Valyria is Italy's name), which would become isolated when war started in Valyria. For some years, the colony would remain independent, trying to mingle with the Tartes people, but would soon be absorbed by the Sardican Empire, causing a split off between tribes. With some investment on part of the Sardicans, who wished to have an ally in Tartes, many tribes met in what was before the town of Criza, which would be renamed León after a legendary animal whose bravery and greatness they hoped would be gained by the new kingdom. Soon, they established themselves as the main political entity in Tarte, supported by the Sardican Empire, and strive to join all the people of Tarte under the crown of Leon.

    Government
    Currently, the Caudilar Leoneo is led by the Cadil. The Cadil is the king and theoretically holds great power over the whole nation, but this power is tempered by the Sejo Claneo (Council of Tribes), which is formed by the Clan Cades, the tribes' chiefs, or their representatives, who are usually members of the chiefs' families. The council's task is to make sure that the Cadil's actions do not overstep the boundaries.

    Language
    Language in Tarte holds several differences from one part to other, but someone from northern Tarte could meet with someone from southern Tarte and understand each other with some work. However, Leonese is slowly becoming the de facto language of Leon, as it is the language at the seat of government, as well as that of many traders.

    Religion
    The people of Leon are mostly followers of The Faith, which came to Tarte through Nova Sarkov. About 85% of the population of Leon have converted to The Faith, and follow orthodox Faith, there there is a slowly growing current of a reformed Faith, which mostly worships Odane, Lyra, Masgard, Slysius and The Judge.
     
  9. SouthernKing

    SouthernKing crickety cricket

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    To: The Nations and Exaltations of Levea
    From: The Daksina Rajdom (and I might be speaking for Daretoki as well)


    We have knowledge of one another. It would do nothing but good if our regions had closer contact, trade, and relations with each other.
     
  10. Terrance888

    Terrance888 Discord Reigns

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    From Hormun
    Err.... sure. Keep paying them tolls.
    From Danae
    Oh shut up Hormun. Anyway, we're the most prestigious merchant state
    From Parusha
    AHEM?
    From Danae
    NAVAL merchant state
    From Boukae
    AHEM?
    From Danae
    Damnit, but I assure you we're the most prestigious remant of Aramya
    From Viziers
    Ahem?
    From Danae
    Will you all shut up! I'm trying to negotiate something here!
    From Others
    You shut up and stop messing with the negotiations!
    From Hormun
    Yeah... you should leave the politicing to me, or come with a specific idea of what you want, with whom, and when in mind.
     
  11. Eltain

    Eltain Emperor

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    ROC, NY, US
    Santhor stared uneasily into the maw. On a good day, you could almost see the peaks of Greece, black dots on the horizon. On a good nights, you could see dots of lights floating on anchored ships. But today, when it should be mid-day, he could barely see the water lapping noisily a dozen feet below him.

    A sudden fog had weaved tendril-like from Naffas-Noth and blanketed the sea and shore (at least what he could see) with a bleachd glare. It made all the sailors nervous, and the port traders even more so. Surely this was the work of some distant dead ancestor, calling warnings for them?

    He scratched his nose. His brow furrowed. He resentfully sent a prayer to Ziril to burn the fogs away. They made him nervous.

    "Santhor, old chum, why do you stand so rigidly at the water's edge?"

    The old master's voice startled him. He received a sharp slap on the back. It left him stinging, though he would not speak it aloud.

    "This dayfog unnerves me, Sanpio. I barely dare to speak it, but I have never seen such as this on the hot waters of the western or eastern seas, in all my sailings."

    In truth, Santhor was no great sailor, nor had he ever been past Katan. He had done the transport routes all the way to Sarica and Provence; never any cross-ocean sailing as to Africa.

    He could hear the terrified skreeching of seabirds flying blindly above the water. He could only imagine what it was like to be blinded in the sea like that.

    "Nor I, but you don't see me squinting dumbly at nothing."

    The old man chuckled. He was old, and wrinkled, and tan beyond his 60 years. He had spent more than half of his life sailing to Phoenice and back, working for Thlorynite or Ziril traemaesters.

    "In fact, you see me enjoying the bright morning. Not a cloud in the sky, no shadows below us, not a lick of work to be done. The shadows have fled, now that the clouds have reached the shore, eh?"

    He always had fancied himself a jester, too.

    "I suppose so, Sanpio."

    A low horn sounded from the sea, somewhere off to his left. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooo. A second answered behind from, twice, thrice, four times, from the hills high behind him, lost and dreary behind curtains of glaringly bright white fog.

    A warning call. An oars-ship stranded at sea, with no way of knowing where it was heaed.

    Santhor jogged off the wooden pier with Sanpio, and just in time, too; a dragon-faced Curragh from beyond the fallen sea emerged from the fog, smashing into the pier, splintering it and collapsing the shipward half.

    "Damn this weather," panted Sanpio. The sweat clung to his tunic as though he had emerged from the sea. His breathing was raspy from the liquid air in his lungs. They both ran to the ship, boarding through a narrow hole in the deck facing caused by the impact.

    The deckhands spoke neither Cytrian nor Greek. He pushed past a burly confused looking oaf and unlatched the grate leading to the lower decks. He meant to rescue the slaves chained to the oars, if the ship was to sink. Which it might.

    Sanpio jumped down first, Santhor second, landing knee-deep in water. He took the keys hanging by the ladder they had ignored and unlatched the first oarsmen. His biceps and shoulders were huge and red from a lifetime of pulling a ship that weighed 40 stone through the sea with his arms. He said something unintelligable to Santhor and grabbed one of the keys, getting started on the men further down, where the water had almost reached up to their necks. The curragh had tilted very badly by now.

    All of the 40 oarsmen had made it to the pier, and the deckhands too. By the time they emerged from the ship, the fog had begun to burn away, curling like shadows from the heat of the mid-day sun. He could see his shadow again, thank the ancestors.

    A finely clad, broadly smiling gentleman he presumed to be the ship's owner took him by the arm and embraced him, Sark style, leaving a square-shaped golden coin in his palm.

    He and his old master Sanpio strode back towards the port town, mildly appreciating what they had just done.

    "Damn this weather."
     
  12. Terrance888

    Terrance888 Discord Reigns

    Joined:
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    Location:
    Workwork Workshop
    Orders Recieved
    Eltain
    Milarqui
    Spaceman
    Gemhound
    General Olaf
    Stockholme
    Tycho
    Moldath
    Skillord
    Luckymoose
    Lord Iggy
    Boundless
    Lord of Elves
    southernking
    Erez

    Regions Able to Be Updated, and Order
    Regions Done Updating will be Bolded
    China, Levea, Nile, Eastern Seas, Western Seas, Keltia, India, America

    Notes
    I will start by doing all research, then all spending, before resolving any actions.
    Lord of Elves, southernking and Erez -1 initiative for late orders so far.
     
  13. Luckymoose

    Luckymoose The World is Mine

    Joined:
    Jan 15, 2006
    Messages:
    18,355
    Location:
    Get Back
    My name isn't worthy of your orders?
     
  14. Gem Hound

    Gem Hound Deity

    Joined:
    Aug 24, 2011
    Messages:
    2,597
    Location:
    In the dark
    Ignore this post!
     
  15. Optical

    Optical The Fall of the Eleventh

    Joined:
    Sep 16, 2010
    Messages:
    5,734
    Location:
    Help me. I don't know where I am.
    Clarify?
     
  16. SKILORD

    SKILORD Insurgent

    Joined:
    Jan 14, 2002
    Messages:
    5,295
    Location:
    Behind you!
    Orders sent.
     
  17. SouthernKing

    SouthernKing crickety cricket

    Joined:
    Dec 29, 2010
    Messages:
    6,914
    Location:
    Deva Loka
    I'll send orders tomorrow.
    (no, not being lazy, I just have other things I have to take care of today)
     
  18. Lord_Iggy

    Lord_Iggy Tsesk'ihe

    Joined:
    Jun 7, 2005
    Messages:
    24,565
    Location:
    Yukon
    To: Exaltation of Viria
    From: High Kingdom of Hyak


    Our proposal is as such: The Viziers shall deliver 4 EP to the coffers of the High King Naran-sar, and shall ensure that Hyakkid forces are provided with the necessary supplies of food and drink. Our army to be dispatched to wage war alongside Aramyan forces against Boukae shall be comprised of 6 Curraghs, 1 Unit of Ox Chariots, 3 Units of Spearmen, 3 Units of Archers, and 2 of our Qurabu Kalbanatu Units.

    If our proposition strikes you as too much for even your widely-renowned wealth to cover, then Takarzi's Avatar may deign to speak with the Viziers further on this matter.
     
  19. Lord_Iggy

    Lord_Iggy Tsesk'ihe

    Joined:
    Jun 7, 2005
    Messages:
    24,565
    Location:
    Yukon
    He Who Brings Annihilation

    Know this, dear reader, for to deny it is to invite bloody destruction upon yourself.

    The Avatar of The Bloody-Handed God bows to no man, no king, and no deity but Takarzi himself. In the past, the Zargashids strayed from this tenet, and were undone. But what has fallen has now risen once again, electrified by faith. For I am Naran, son of Baragan, and I alone am the elect of the War-God.

    Who is this War-God, you ask? To know not is ignorance.

    The men of Egypt know him as Horus. Kitabilist Aramyans know him as Tarias. Each of these disparate races fail to recognize his position upon the greatest throne, and for this they are doomed to see their greatest efforts all collapse to inevitable ruin, until such time as they have recognized the primacy of the Bloody-Handed one. To us of Hyak, he is Takarzi, he who exalts in the rending of his enemies. It is he who sees fit that our land shall be his temple on the earth.
     
  20. SKILORD

    SKILORD Insurgent

    Joined:
    Jan 14, 2002
    Messages:
    5,295
    Location:
    Behind you!
    And so they drilled.

    Day in and day out the army drilled, and the Administrator knew it was the way it must be. He brought guests from the other cities and showed them the soldiers on the field, practicing spear thrusts, shooting arrows at targets.

    "The League exists for a reason, my friends," he would tell each visitor, "To protect it's cities."

    And so they drilled.

    The guests need not be reminded of the war gods, although sometimes they would ask the Administrator about his stance on such things, with a cool smile he brushed away their concerns, "The business of the League is business. I am familiar with the war god and I hold nothing against his worship, it is legal in our cities. But these men know well that they are not warriors of Tarias. They are the warriors of the League."

    Spear thrusts parries, sometimes the Administrator would ask his guest to try their hand at a bow, take some shots at a target. Perhaps don the armor and fight a friendly practice duel. The merchants would often decline but on occasions when their low rank entitled them to certain insecurities they might just fight with the Administrator of the League himself and after he had thoroughly thrashed them he would pick them up and embrace them, "Gods smile on your bravery friend, but do not forget that the cities need an army to defend them."

    And so they drilled, day in and out. Each spearman and archer, even sailors were forced to plan and practice drills in the event of danger, evacuations, attacks, anything to defend the League.

    "Where did you learn to fight like that?" sometimes a vanquished guest might ask to which the Administrator smiled.

    "When I was selected for this position, you see, the League members knew what they wanted. They knew what they were afraid of. I've been training men like this since your mother wiped your nose. I know my methods and more importantly I know who I serve, sir."

    And with another drink and a pat on the back the guest would be returned to his city and the Administrator hoped that they took with them at least a certain confidence.

    -

    The Government of the Levantine League

    There are certain things that independent merchants and city states just cannot accomplish, there are threats they cannot handle and possibilities that they miss out on without some sort of union. But that doesn't really do much to make the idea appealing.

    And so the Relevant People distribute this task to an administrator, chosen by the leaders of the cities and granted near absolute authority, except for the threat of impeachment by those relevant persons should he be seen as a problem.

    The administrator is not the leader of the League. The League has no leader. There are no laws that bind the citizens of each city save the ones they agree upon themselves and the League is not to say. But the league facilitates and protects them, and it is the administrator's duty to ensure that the cities are facilitated and defended.
     

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