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Post by axeldonia on Feb 4, 2018 17:03:53 GMT -5
”Of course, why wouldn’t we? It would be foolish to abandon our allies for hundreds of years to join some frozen tribes up north.” She chuckled, pouring up some wine in a shot-sized glass, downing it with a quick swig. “That said, while our money and mercenaries are at your disposal, we’ll refrain from fighting with our regular troops, for obvious reasons. It is not that we consider human lives lesser mind you, we just don’t have the numbers to be an effective fighting force.”
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Post by Lex Caledonia on Feb 4, 2018 17:16:47 GMT -5
Gone as quickly as it arrived, Blair's serious expression was replaced by a beaming smile. "Completely understandable. I thank you again Helena, no matter what happens up north, we'll both be nations to be reckoned with!" Taking a large gulp of wine, Blair paced himself and placed his cup down on the table, he didn't want to get shitfaced at a diplomatic event. Crowley'shoulders slumped as he relaxed into his chair, sighing in relief. "Our diplomat is Eimear Nola, one of the best in my court. I reckon right about now she's writing a letter to the Polar Dominion and requesting an audience with their leader." Blair explained as he picked up his wine, much to the dismay Crowley. "Anyway, enough politics, lets drink to our health Helena!"
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Post by axeldonia on Feb 4, 2018 17:38:26 GMT -5
”To our health!” Helena filled her glass with another shot, raising it into the air. After about half an hour of feasting and talking about things outside the political, the feast finally wound down as the plates where emptied and the sun continued slowly sliding over the horizon, bathing the hall in in a beautiful evening light. Helena yawned, getting up along with most of the other Squidspawn, about half of them assisting the kitchen staff with cleaning. “I dunno about you, but I think me and my compatriots will be retiring to our quarters. You and your retainers are free to roam the city if you please, provided you commit no crime of course”.Helena chuckled, taking the king’s hand. “Well, in any case, goodnight and see you tomorrow”.
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Post by Flynnvakia on Feb 7, 2018 14:28:37 GMT -5
Location: Losheim
It was a cold and snowy in the capital of Losheim but, this was the norm throughout all of Fyllia. There was no such thing as a day "too cold" for Fyllians with many seeing a day where the lakes do not contain the slightest bit of ice as unusual. As most of Fyllia works in their fields or fishes for food, a lone messenger races through the main street of Losheim with a note in his right hand. When he reached the gates of Carolus VI's Castle, a Bastion of Fyllia stopped him in his tracks. The guard questioned as to why this messenger was in such a hurry to reach the castle. In response, the messenger gave him the note from his hand and with a quick glance, the Bastion knew what this note was an where this messenger had come from. The guard apologized for making the messenger wait and quickly opened the inner gate into the castle. The messenger nodded in thanks and proceeded into the castle. When he reached the throne room, the messenger was about ready to collapse from exhaustion onto the pine floor. King Carolus was pondering many major affairs of the Kingdom when the messenger had come in and was taken aback when he had come in. The messenger gave King Carolus the note and bowed to the King and promptly left the room. King Carolus open the note and was surprised to see what it contained:
My Liege, I am writing this message on behalf of Commander Ekström. It is with great news that the expedition east has revealed to us the existence of a previously unknown island which we have discovered to contain major deposits of ores from which we had previously not known as well as an abandoned library with technology we have never heard of. I suggest we send a group of miners and some of our best scholars to claim this island for ourselves. We have sent of an outpost from which we can conduct operations and I hope that you may come see this place for yourself. Signed, Lt. Hysteros and Commander Ekström
King Carolus was more than excited of this new island filled with untold riches and immediately ordered a party of miners and scholars to head towards this island based upon a map skillfully drawn by the commander's artist/ documentarian. Based upon calculations, the journey will take 2-3 weeks to reach the island. Carolus saw this discovery as an opportunity for Fyllia to extend their grasp upon Calveria and secure a even brighter future for Fyllia.
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Post by axeldonia on Feb 7, 2018 16:41:04 GMT -5
Far away from the capital, deep in the bogs of the western island…
The boggy marshes where thick with smoke as the sun began to set, the darkness further blurring the silhouette of the marshes, fluid as it was already with hanging vines, deep viscous water coated with strange dark green foliage and filled with trees stretching their braches wherever they could fit them. A cold wind swept through the small path a group of Squidspawn where currently staking. They had forgone their more usual puffy attire for plain wool clothes that stuck close to their bodies as well as various amounts of armour. “It’s getting too dark to continue, not to mention spooky”. The leader of the five spoke up, stopping in her tracks and taking off her large backpack. “You sure?” “Yeah, too far from the beach camp to attempt returning in these bad conditions. Now spread out and get some firewood, I and Greta will set up the tent”.
About half an hour later the group had reconvened without any misadventures and a small fire was now burning in the two-tent camp they’d set up. The five Squidspawn where huddled around the fire, watching as a large fish they’d caught in the swamp waters slowly rotated around a fire. “Hey, have you squids though about something?” The green-tentacles navigator suddenly spoke up, holding up her hand-drawn map. “If this island is supposedly uninhabited, why are there paths through the forest? They’re not regular grazing paths or something either, this is a real dirt path like back home”. A silent wind blew through the camp, making the fire flicker a little. The marsh was dead quiet, save for the crackling of the fire. “You’re sure no other expedition has been through here?” the leader of the group spoke up again, a noticeable tremble in her voice. “Y-Yeah… I wouldn’t have come with otherwise…”. One of the Squidspawn drew their shortsword close, staring nervously into the still black water of the small pond they’d set up camp at. Only it wasn’t still. A small trail of rings made it across the water, splashing silently against the shore. The Squidspawn’s eyes widened in panic as she stood up, drawing her shortsword in the direction of the lake. “S-Something’s in the lake!”.
Her companions all got up in a hurry, some grabbing their weapons and some simply staring out into the marsh as the five companions formed a circle around the fire. The forest remained dead quiet for a moment, followed by an odd, almost gooey sound and the clatter of metal. The startled Squids turned around, only to find nothing in place of the large fish and the skewer that was there just moments ago. A loud gulping sound came from above, as a large drop of what could only be saliva dropped down onto the fire with a sizzle. The red-haired leader of the group suddenly grabbed a piece of wood from the fire, holding up to shine some light on the trees above. The caused whatever was up there to disappear, as the rustling foliage and creaking of branches gave away. “Oh no you’re not” The leader muttered under her breath, using her tentacles to grab onto the branches and drag her up, soon setting after their mysterious visitor through the trees.
She followed the faint silhouette of something humanoid through the mist and darkness, using all her tentacles and acrobatics to stay in the chase, while the other creature seemed to move swiftly with little exertion on their part. After about a minute of chasing the Squidspawn heard a large crack, emerging to find a long, gooey tounge wrapped tightly around a broken twig. Getting down on her knees and scooting over, the Squidpawn yelped as she stared down at a large, black mass of tar, along with a greenish humanoid hanging on for dear life. She grit her teeth, grabbing at the stretched out tongue and pulled until her knuckles turned white, hearing a sound not unlike that of a tentacle’s suction cup connection to something, followed by the rapid retraction of the tongue and a faint pitter-patter up the tree. She gripped nervously at her dagger as the leaves parted in front of her, revealing a large humanoid about twice her size. Her upper body was a fairly bleak white with a green tint, but the rest of her was a deep green, with large spots littering her back and arms in a camouflage pattern.
She stared at the Squidspawn for a moment with her big yellow eyes, contemplating something before leaning over to give her a big sloppy kiss on the forehead. The Squidspawn blinked in surprise, but taking the kiss as a form of thanks she spoke up. ”My name is Katia. I’m a Squidspawn from the Republic of Titenfisca. Who are you?”. The frog-girl stared at her a moment before replying, speaking in an unknown tounge: “M’cest Madeliene Furtif, de partir bolan Greouille”. “Uh…” Katia realized she had no idea of what the woman had just said, apart from guessing her name was Madeleine. She shrugged, gesturing to her to climb down as she entered the foliage, quickly lowering herself to the ground. She was pleasantly surprised to discover that the woman indeed followed her, staring at her with an intrigued expression. After a few attempts at gesturing with mixed results, the girl managed to communicate that she wanted to return to camp, after which the woman obliged. It surprisingly only took a few minutes of wandering and they could soon spot the fire in the camp. The green-tentacled Greta was the first to notice her, rushing over with a squeal and catching her in a big hug. She was a little taken aback at the sight of her news visitor, the others quickly grouping up behind her. “Um… Who’s that behind you?” Katia smiled. “Her name’s Madeleine. I believe I’ve got to send a letter home.”
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Post by Vista Major, MP on Feb 8, 2018 20:21:16 GMT -5
The midday was clear and cold, a gelid wind sweeping in from the sea and rippling through the thick white fur of the High Chief and the charcoal grey wool of the High Shaman. The two lifelong companions stood upon the highest marble balcony of the Divine Cathedral. Inside the massive church, large crowds of Alkin and Hyarin priests from across Asakor gathered in communion to worship the Holy Mother, Myrtanis, within the Cathedral's many chambers, and small bands of their Barskin counterparts made scholarly pleas to the god Yrutas as they walked the winding halls of the holy grounds.
Neither the Shaman nor the Chief were particularly concerned with the religious affairs below them as they read the foreign letter in Torvus' steady paw.
"This is quite the letter, Torvus. How often do foreigners send us such communications?"
The High Chief chuckled. "Once in a decade, if we're lucky. And that's only because a few of their merchants would cause a ruckus over our trade policies. For the longest, we were almost all alone in our little frozen piece of the mortal universe. I almost miss it, Mar'ar."
"Trust me, my friend; I miss it very much. I never did like talking with foreigners much. They don't understand our cultures, or worship, or our ways of combat," replied Mar'ar with a sigh. "So, they want to meet with us?"
"It would seem so," Torvus said. "This 'Eimear Nola' is from some land called Lexidus. Quite frankly, I don't think I've heard the name before. I never expected our missions to the west would go undetected, but-"
"Lexidus?" the High Shaman said, a tinge of excitement in his voice. "Torvus, the Noble Kingdom of Lexidus worships Myratnis! And they're just to our south, last time I checked a world map!"
Torvus' pointed ears perked up. "Is that so...? Well then, if we both worship the same god, who are we to refuse them an audience?"
"Exactly what I was thinking!" Mar'ra slammed down his fist on the balcony railing, his green and blue robes ruffling from the movement. "We can use that abandoned World's Tower to host them - after cleaning it, of course."
"That's not a bad idea. But do you think they'll really want to have an acceptable dialogue with us? After all, if they're really allied with Fyllia, they will not look kindly upon our incursions near their territory."
"We shall see, my Chief. But, regardless of that matter, we must prepare immediately. Tell this 'Nola' to meet us here in the capital in a fortnight. Never mind that I have never been the most international of people; I'll make an exception this once."
"Of course, dear Shaman. I will send word at once. But what if the Council raises a fuss over this?"
"You can handle them, Torvus? You didn't become High Chief without stepping on someone's toes, after all. And I'll always be there to protect you."
Torvus looked down and smiled. "You are too good to me, Mar'."
"You are too good for this Dominion, Tor. Now, go on. We have work to do."
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Post by Lex Caledonia on Feb 9, 2018 9:13:55 GMT -5
The king awoke to the sound of Mündungshafen in the morning. Birds chirped, trees rustled from the gentle wind and the population in the city went about their morning routines with light commotion. Blair's accommodation was lavish, with Titenfiscan imagery and embroidery adorning every piece of fabric and adornment. Opening the window the king admired the site before him, a faint smell of baked bread floating towards him from a bakery nearby. The sun had just risen upon the horizon and with it was a sapphire blue sky, framing the painting that was the Mündungshafen skyline. He leaned on the windowsill for quite a while, basking in the glow of the image before him. A cool breeze lightly brushed against his face and he began to recall things, awaking proper from his post-sleep haze. I wonder how Eimear is getting along? He wondered this to himself, before dressing back into his royal raiment, placing his crown upon his head and heading out into the warmth that was the capitol city of Titenfisca.
Eimear Nola was freezing her arse off. She had made her way to a fledgling settlement at the northern-most part of the newly designated North Star Isles and the cold northern winds were fist clenching. Unlike the also newly denominated city of Nola, to which she had enjoyed a cosy night sleep the night before, the settlement before her was ramshackle in comparison. Wooden huts that numbered in the dozens were ill suited to the cold winds and heavy snowfall, the wooden structures were warped slightly at the base because of this and damp to the touch, mould and rot would surely set in she thought. She would have to inform her uncle in the city to the south that stone would be much more suited for this type of environment. The harsh sea air blew fiercely against her as she made her way towards the port, squinting through her tartan shawl she could barely make out a colossal white mass imposing itself on the north sea's horizon, the polar arm of Calveria Alternis. Fyllia to the west and Asakor to the east. A small fleet of the Royal Lexidun Navy had docked themselves outside the settlement, caked in snow, the various caravels and a few birlinns floated in preparation for the journey north. Royal Guard and sailors mingled, keeping themselves occupied and moving as to help counteract the cold engulfing them, their fur coats made of bear and wolf fur keeping them relatively warm. Approaching a smaller cog and its crew, the Royal Ambassador passed her letter to the messenger boat's captain before excusing herself to the nearest inn for shelter. The rather small letter, adorned with the blue wax seal of Lexidus, read as follows:
Hail High Chief Torvus,
I must thank you for your swift response to my previous letter. As a representative of the Noble Kingdom of Lexidus, I also thank you for agreeing to the meeting, our nations have had precious little interaction and I understand that most would be hesitant to even allow for dialogue at all. Let alone a diplomatic visit. It is our patron god Myratnis, Maither Kin'est, that we can thank for our upcoming conclave. May she guide us towards a reasonable understanding between our nations and our people. I will discuss further what has been requested of me by my liege King Blair de Brus in a fortnight's time as you have requested, me and my entourage will be with you then.
Regards, Royal Ambassador Eimear Nola of the Noble Kingdom of Lexidus
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Post by Flynnvakia on Feb 12, 2018 10:35:46 GMT -5
Location: Off the Coast of the Forgotten Isles
For as long as Fyllia has existed the Forgotten Isles have been considered nothing more than a place where Fyllian fisherman and whalers went to fish and whale. Although the isle is not considered to be under Fyllian control, most of Fyllia's neighbors respect their right to fish and whale off the coast. One such vessel was a wooden boat owned by Samuel Aberg: a notable fisher in the isles. The day started as a underwhelming catch with only five baskets full of Psut: a fish native to the isles. Aberg returned to the Fyllian fishing post on the isle and headed toward the tavern which he frequented. The tavern was filled with the talk of a Lexius fleet landing in the south of the isle at a Titenfiscan fishing post. Many in the tavern saw the Lexius as a nation who would dare come up this far north. A few sailors sat in the corner of the tavern making guesses at why Lexius was on the isle. One piped up and said, "They want this isle as a staging ground to invade further north!". The other sailors nodded in agreement and then turned to Aberg who was sitting at a table next to them. The sailors motioned him over to them and Aberg obliged. The sailors were a dingy group of men with torn tunics and worn boots with one of them lacking three fingers as a result of frostbite. The sailors spoke to Aberg, "You know, those Lexius are not here to exchange pleasantries, you know the king personally and you are our only hope of getting some form of military presence here before this isle is colonized by Lexius." Aberg hesitated for a moment and remembered that if he does not do something he will be to blame for the loss of this isle. He agreed and organized a crew and head back to Losheim following the Northern winds.
Location: Losheim It was several weeks since they set for Losheim when the finally docked at Losheim. The voyage was normal for the most part except for one crewman falling overboard and freezing to death. Aberg walked the streets of Losheim noting how clean the city was and how well kept it has been. He walked up to the gate of Carolus's Castle and requested entrance on the case that he was carrying important information for King Carolus. As he entered the throne room he admired the beautiful artwork along the otherwise gray and bland walls of the stone castle. Upon the throne was Carolus VI reading a book regarding the tales of a lone soldier separated from his company. Aberg approached Carolus and was greeting with a warm smile as Carolus set down his book. Carolus said to Aberg, "What a suprise Aberg, how is the fishing business?" Aberg replied, "Profitable, Psut are more common than ever. However, that is not what I am here for, we have reports from the Forgotten Isle of a Lexidus force who we believe may be seeking to colonize the isle." Carolus was shocked, he had never expected Lexidus to travel north much like many of his population. "Well if these reports are correct, I believe we must send in support to show that we mean business. I will send 2 thousand men to the fishing post to defend you and your colleagues from anything Lexidus tries." Aberg thanked Carolus profusely and returned to his boat and head back to the isle.
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Post by Lex Caledonia on Feb 12, 2018 12:55:03 GMT -5
"You what?" frowned Eimear as a nervous messenger began to read the parchment again.
"Erm... Chief Burke down in the city has received numerous complaints from Fyllian fishermen of Lexidus' involvement in the North Star Isles. He's worried things might escalate and was wondering if you could open a dialogue with the Kingdom of Fyllia?" The messenger shook slightly, mainly from the biting cold he had to endure racing his horse to the northern-most Lexidun settlement on the island but also slightly from the look Eimear was giving him. Her dull green eyes narrowed and her small mouth frowned, a face of sheer and utter annoyance.
She threw her arms in the air, palms outstretched and swore loudly. She began to pace around the sparsely populated tavern, her face becoming flush with frustration. She began to talk out loud to herself. "Since when have the bloody Fyllians been on this goddess-forsaken island?"
"For a while actually" piped an old sailor who was drinking in, the now broken, silence. "They're a good lot, ever since we started building our settlements here, we've had the odd couple of run ins with them. Good folk, hardy but keen for a good laugh aye." Eimear stared at the old sailor. His white beard was nearly waist length, he probably needed all the facial hair he could get in this environment mused Eimear.
"Did nobody think to inform the authorities to this, especially since we now have a newly established city here?" Eimear was now sitting opposite the old man who was downing a large tankard of ale.
"Didnae think it would be an issue, they've only got a couple of fishing posts near here. They don't own the land, never had." The sailor slammed his tankard on his table and shouted for another, Eimear stared at the table in dismay. Making her way back across towards the tavern's entrance to where a still shivering messenger stood, Eimear rubbed her eyes and calmed herself.
"Right. Inform Chief Burke that I'll get on it, also if you can sail back to the mainland and inform the King, he needs to know things might be getting complicated up here." With a dismissive wave of her hand, the messenger bolted back outside into the cold. The heavy wooden door slamming behind him. Silence befell the tavern and Eimear slumped on a stool, requesting a piece of parchment, a large inkwell and a strong ale. The hearthfire in the centre of the tavern gave a soft orange glow and flickered light across the room as Eimear's quill began to write:
To his majesty King Carolus VI of the Kingdom of Fyllia,
It has come to the attention of the Noble Kingdom of Lexidus that your people are irked by the presence of Lexidus and its forces. Firstly I would like to clarify things on behalf of the crown of which I represent. The Lexidun Forces currently at the isles are stationed here for the city of Nola's protection and my own. For I am making my way to a meeting with the leader of the Polar Dominion of Asakor, to clarify their position on their expansion and to exert caution. Secondly, the North Star Isles (formerly known as the Forgotten Isles) now fall under Lexidun jurisdiction as numerous settlements and even a city has been established on the Eastern Island, along with the Western Island. We were not made aware of your presence here and do apologise for any cause for concern. However, the western island contains Titenfiscan settlements as well and we allowed the Republic of Titenfisca to exert control over their own buildings. We would like to extend this offer to you too, we shall allow your various ports and fishing posts to remain and under your laws and direct control. This will allow them to trade with our settlements in the area and would benefit our nations both. Understand however, if your people leave your designated structures and go inland, they will be on Lexidun land and subject to her laws. Aggression against Lexidus and her people on this island will be counteracted with force if the situation arises. Despite this, I hope you can understand the circumstance surrounding the isles and hope we can have a positive and prosperous dialogue.
Sincerely, Royal Ambassador Eimear Nola of the Noble Kingdom of Lexidus
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Post by Flynnvakia on Feb 15, 2018 13:36:36 GMT -5
Location: Losheim " Sir the public is confused and worried about the current state of international relations with the reports of Lexidus colonizing North Star and the aggressive remarks as said by Askor to our East. I have gotten information to some upheaval over the lack of concise action in our foreign affairs. What should we do? "An advisor says whilst pacing side to side in Carolus' planning room. Carolus looks up from the message he received from Lexidus "Organize an assembly of the Losheim, I want to speak to them personally and I want it within 24 hours." The advisors nods and walks out of the room and Carolus takes a piece of parchment and begins writing.
Royal Ambassador Eimear Nola, Thank you for clarify the status of North Star island, our fishermen are not messengers as you may know and we are thankful for your willingness to allow our current fishing settlements to remain under Fyllian control. It is good to see that not all worshippers of Mytranis are uncompromising selfish barbarians like Askor. Indeed, I do believe this may led to proper talk about a peaceful coexistence upon the island. As a sign of peace, I have ordered an opening of Fyllian ports to all Lexidus vessels and I extend an invitation for Lexidus troops to train with some of my men in hopes of improving relations with our people. Signed, King Carolus VI of Fyllia
King Carolus rolled up the parchment and handed it to a messenger eager to travel a great many mile to deliver a message that may change history and Carolus returned to his chair and began writing his script for the upcoming assembly.
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Post by axeldonia on Feb 19, 2018 19:31:22 GMT -5
The group stood in front of the gaping darkness of the cave. Katia turned around and handed everyone a torch. She gestured for Madeleine to lead the way and the frog-woman obliged with a croak. The party didn’t get far before they encountered what could only be the skull of some sort of bird, only it was big enough to cover the entire cave path with its open beak. A shudder passed through the party as they ventured further inwards, finally exiting the skull to find the path ahead filled with luminescent crystals. The party put out their torches and followed the crystals nervously, soon hearing the low humming of what could only be a large crowd of beings.
After a few twists and turns they finally detected some sort of end to the tunnel, which was brightly lit and filled with beings going about their business, the sound of voices now combined with some sort of odd flapping noise. The group finally wandered through the entrance, stumbling right into what seemed like a town square. The cave walls where lined with holes and several hollow pillars where spread across the cave floor as well. There was commotion as the crowd finally discovered the new intruders, a pair of guards shouting and drawing their long curved swords, quickly being upon the group. Their colourful and elaborate armour seemed to be made of some sort of hardened fungi and they wore long masks resembling a bird’s beak.
The group quickly raised their hands in the air, whereupon the guards disarmed them and began escorting them through the crowd. The group received many odd glances from these moth-like beings, almost all of them clad in colourful and flowing garments. They were led up to a large, armoured worm-like creature, getting up into the small platform erected on top of it. With a shout from the driver in some sort of odd language, the worm began moving through the tunnels rapidly. The group sat silently for a while as the worm moved until of all people Madeleine spoke up, talking to the Moths in their own native tongue to Katia’s surprise. The frog-girl turned around, thinking for a moment before she began speaking with a thick accent. “Sorry for not speeking up earliuer, but ze guards would not ‘ave paid me any attetione anyhow. Zis is the realm of the Mozs, which ‘ave remained in isolation for ‘undreds of years ever since ze great wuar. We are on our way to zeir leader, the Shoutai, who wanted to speek wiz you personally.”
Katia nodded as a sudden flash of light caught everyone’s attention. The source of this light was a pair of spectacular blue crystal pillars flanking a large, circular door made by lacquered old wood and decorated with a large golden sigil of a four-pointed star. The group dismounted and the guards flanking the door pulled it open, followed by a spectacular sight greeting them. The room they entered was smooth and circular, a large chandelier making the polished white rock covering the walls shine. In the centre of the room was a high pillar of white rock, upon which sat a Moth with a pair of enormous red antennae, outmatched only by the large wings covering his back, featuring intricate patterns of red and gold swirling across the scales like brushstrokes from the pen of a master artist.
The guards sheathed their swords and bowed, Katia and the others quickly following. The Shoutai leaned forward and suddenly began to speak in perfect, if antiquated Mennsprach. “Greetings. I am Gano Shidosa VI of the Moth realm and I welcome thee to my court”. Katia took a moment to close her mouth before getting up, taking off her hat and replying. “I am Katia, explorer and official emissary from the Republic of Titenfisca. If I may ask one question, how do you know our language?”. The moth chuckled, shifting a little on his throne.
“We were not always the solitary realm we are today. Once we had contact with your kind and your language remains preserved in our books, taught to those of great rank even today. Now, may you tell us the reason for your visit?”. Katia tugged at her shirt nervously, hoping not to trigger an international incident. “We have been sent to your island to establish a trade port, a right granted to us by the Kingdom of Lexidus which formally controls this island. Gano’s eyes widened, and he slammed one of his four fists into his throne. “The nerve! The Lexiduns dare assume sovereignty over my realm though no man has set foot in it for a thousand years? That savage race has not changed in the slightest”. Helena grew startled, interrupting the Shoutai in the middle of his outburst. “Nothing of the sort your highness! Our knowledge of your islands have simply not stood the tests of time as well as yours, leading us to believe the islands uninhabited. A simple letter will resolve the issue faster than hundreds of your finest warriors, I assure you”. The Shoutai sat back down with a sigh, tapping his hand idly against the throne. “I see. Very well then. If foreign powers once again have decided to visit our island, I believe it is high time we break our isolation”.
The next morning, a letter stamped with a golden star where sent to all neighboring kingdoms.
By decree of Gano Shidosa VI of the Ganohito, foreign traders are now allowed to again purchase goods from his realm, including silk, tea and fungal spices. The Shoutai has for the time being granted the Republic of Titenfisca a monopoly on internal trade, meaning that only they get to purchase goods from the internal markets of the Ganohito. While foreigners may visit our lands and take part of our culture, our wares will only be sold at the Titendfiscan ports in the area. This decree may be subject to change following subsequent contacts with foreign entities.
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Post by Andromitus on Feb 21, 2018 12:26:34 GMT -5
6 Days prior The taste of acid filled his mouth as Kosa leapt back, sword in hand, to strike at one of the beasts; It’d managed to get its main body, a squat, cylindrical morass of flesh and scales, caught on the metal spines lined across the side of the boat. Already his muscles ached and his lungs burned as they inhaled the smoke fuming from the river, still burning from the vials of Ikorr Oil dropped at the start of the battle. It was all he could do not to turn ‘round as another column of fire erupted from the River and a vial of Ikorr shattered onto another of the beasts, its high pitched screams echoing around the cavern. His sword-blade, a long piercing-weapon, plunged into the monsters hide, its head, nothing more than a vertical maw of teeth built into a continuation of its long, tentacular neck, whirled around toward him, releasing a bone jarring scream. It was knocked back slightly, two crossbow bolts cutting deep into its maw, then continued falling forward and collapsed onto the deck as he ducked out of the way; behind him one of the other Hanzain fired another volley of Bolts onto another beast across the river;
“We have to pull back!” “I know,” Kosa replied, coughing from the fumes, “How many vials do you have left? I’m out” “I’m playing doubles, catch!” He tossed a vial of a green substance at him, catching it Kosa hurled it off the bough of the ship, three shapes in the distance erupted into fire. “It won’t be long before the boats catch in all this heat! Where the hell is the Comman…” He was cut short as a long horn call sounded over the boats, the Hanzain that’d saved him a second ago rushed into the bowels of this ship, probably to give the order to pull back. Mere seconds later, the boat lurched back and spun left, the flames of the river licking over the sides of the vessel as it turned to retreat, cries of enraged horrors rising in falling as they pushed downriver. They continued to push downward, fire turned back into river water, the taste of oil stinging his mouth as vapor splashed from the waves. The beasts, although their numbers had thinned, continued to chase onwards, waves cutting and churning as they surged forward in pursuit. Kosa turned back just as a sole, burning arrow soared over the last row of boats, a slight silence hung over the Squadron before final drops of oil in the river erupted, the screams of the terrors being drowned by the roar of fire. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 2 Days prior To the delight of the Curate, the flood of Soldiers funneling into Ixthenpijn left no shortage of work for the increasingly restless Lower-Caste. Workers and Farmers took to transports, Herders and Masons turned to building fortifications. Perhaps however, this delight was more of a sigh of relief as with few working the fields, Ixthenpijn and her many surrounding territories were now surviving off of opened temple food stores, with grain being distributed from other Thaur under the Ahkmaur-Authority. As the most recent harvests was being prepared for further expeditions West, word had already begun to spread amongst the Caste’s, from the Priesthood to the Artisans, the Scribes to the Masons. Hushed Speakers with soft-spoken words, yet spoken nonetheless. Should we expect a shortage? Are we still safe? The axe blade gleamed as it swung down and a sharp intake of breath swept over the crowd, the stone head-block shone red with blood. Some of these speakers had spoken too loudly; “We are a society built on the foundation of Law, and as trying times attempt to bleed into our Holy Land, we must all stand vigilant in the face of Conspiracy and Plight.” The Priests voice boomed over the crowd. “Good, holy folk of Asil, do not look upon this filth as man, look at him as one of Sin, who even when confronted yet refused our aid. The axe blade swung again, blood continuing to pour down over the Head-block, shutters continued over the crowd with each blow. The previous time there had been five, now there were almost 12; Ahnsei grimaced again as the crowd began to slowly disperse, there had been executions and lashings in the Southern-Farming Region, yes, but never for absolute Heresy. How could people let themselves go like that? “Good people, come unto our embrace with your trouble, for God cannot save those who are too far gone.” The executions went on for another few minutes before the crowd was finally dispersed, Lower-Caste’s such as herself being ordered to their duties by the Priesthood; as a Servant-caste, she’d been assigned to the Artisan-Districts for her skill in Oils, but until proper materials could be allocated, she’d spent most of her time traveling across Jodenhaur gathering minor supplies, this time getting caught in one of the Temple’s demonstrations. It seemed even the Priests were put on edge by the happenings of late. “Did you hear about the M’kaein Urbanate? 17 put in quarantine…” “No! I’m more worried about the Western Farming region, they’re saying the deep-soil fungi is dying, th’soils toxic now.” Trying her best to ignore the mumbles of gossip from the higher Caste, she pushed down one of the side roads near a minor Canal cutting through the city, thoughts of the execution still fresh in her mind. Where there more soldiers than before? she thought too herself as she continued down the roadway, the mix of Luminescent vegetation and Fires painting dazzling arrays of light across the buildings of the Asil. It was impossible to tell, but she could feel as if there were more stationed across the city. The stone pathway sloped downward and below the surface floor, buildings on either side of the Canal being carved right into the cliff-face of the rocky foundation of the upper districts. This mimicked most Asilic city-planning, with the Artisan district being carved directly from the ravine left behind from the soil excavated by redirected irrigation water. As most construction projects, the topsoil and soft earth was dug away from building sites down to the rock, the ensuing ravine was then carved into whatever facilities were needed, the rest being built on top of what’d yet to be dug out. She slowed as the formal district-archway came into view, a wide structure with the seal of an Anvil on the Keystone. A flood of people stood along the riverbank, huge jars and crates of Oils, Salts, glasses, ores, and ingots were being pulled off of boats along the canal, armies of Scribes lay at each dock marking every Vial of Oil, every crate of Ore; webs of interlocking bronze pipes rooted the ground to the carved Clifface, the muffled sound of water growing louder as Ahnsei was pushed away from the Canal toward them. Unlike in the Southern Farming Region and Housing Columns of the Dominion, the Artisan-Districts such as this one weren’t heated by natural volcanics; the heat of the various forges and equipment were used directly to hold back the cool air of the Thaur. None of it was to be spared, with sets of pipes such as these pumping heated air and water around the Urbanate. Apart from maintaining a majority of the cities heating, the Artisan’s District produced a wide variety materials, from metal wares such as construction materials and jewelry, to Alchemical products like Oils, Salts, and Powders; In total producing almost a third of the Thaur’s material wealth. She was pulled from her thoughts as the army of Worker and Scribe-Caste’s began to part; all across the roadway people scattered to either the Canal or the Wall. All but one, his garb betrayed his place as a repurposed Farming-Caste, but something was wrong. He lurched forward as he stumbled down the road, unable to stand up straight, and a hush began to flow over the crowd of people. The man started coughing voraciously before he collapsed onto the stone-brick pathway, attempting to stand he convulsed and a black substance was spat onto the stone bricks of the Road. A roar erupted from the crowd, Ahnsei herself being pushed up against the district wall, as people scattered away from the sight. He lay there for several minutes, the stones in front of him stained black, as people scattered. Moments later a group of four Soldiers, Hanzain, broke through the crowd toward him. Two of them were mounted on Ai’zaan, large six legged beasts not unlike wingless moths with long, silky-white fur, large compound eyes, and flat, feathery antenna. The soldiers themselves were dressed in a mix of leather and metal plates. The man, now convulsing violently, was forced inside a leather sack, a crowd of the few people unable to flee slowly moved forward to get a look at the spectacle; the Mounted Hanzain ordered the crowd back before drawing their blades, long Steel Khopesh, and forming a small perimeter around the diseased man, their mounts standing tall, almost equine-like, over the crowd of Mid and Lower-Caste. The sack was flung over the back of one of the Ai’zaan before group began to move toward the gate into the Artisans District. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • It was only a few hours later when the Great bells of the Artisan District began to clang; They could be distinguished from the calls of districts due to the order, three short gongs followed by one low and high tone in that order. Looking up from her position around of the desks, having been mixing an oil concoction for a batch of Swords set for the military, one of the Artisan’s ordered her to look outside to what was occurring. She was a lone Servant in a sea of people racing along the streets outside the building at which she worked. The crowd, unlike earlier, wasn’t just streaming by her, it was a torrent of bodies running down. Cries of horror and yelling could be heard everywhere before the threat could be seen in the distance, a group of Soldiers were hurling down the pathway, dragging people off the streets and forcing them into buildings. Hordes of lower-Caste attempted to flee into the canal, being shot by arrows from mounted Vvain soldiers. “What on the tabes is going on out here….” one of the Artisans pushing out into the torrent he was grabbed by the color by one of the soldiers, mounted on a rather large Ai’zaan. “Return to your workplace, Artisan, the district is under Quarantine.”
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Post by Unfallious on Feb 22, 2018 15:58:22 GMT -5
Insignas had time to think as he followed the Kyasii back to what they had called their 'holding'. Jacobi had, in his time, had contacted with the Dominion before, of course, but never in any real official capacity. What little he knew of them suggested a society of great rigidity, which was only reinforced when he arrived at what he presumed to be the place where he'd finally get to told to someone of authority. He was informed of what he must do, the obedient nature to which he must observe and abide by. Insignas was well aware that acting in an intentionally defiant manner was a great way to get off on the wrong foot which would make the delivering of such a pressing message all the more difficult. However, to be totally submissive was to misrepresent the Verition people. He was an agent of the Crown & Throne, and though he would show respect to the foreign lord, he would let them know that he was no commoner. Thus, as the Kyasii dignitary entered and the guards around him dropped to one knee with their heads bowed, Jacobi followed them. However, he kept his head raised, meeting the Scrawl's gaze. He believed this was a gesture of both respect, in recognition of both the Dominion's authority and the position of this foreign lord, but also a show of force in representation of the Verition monarchy. He remained silent as he did so, allowing the Kyasii to have the first word.
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Post by Lex Caledonia on Feb 22, 2018 17:51:12 GMT -5
Eimear's face was flushed, alcohol had that effect on her, she could drink with the best of them. However her hand began to stray slightly as she wrote and she was now straddling the line between controllable tipsiness and abject drunkenness. She had wrote back to King Carolus VI of Fyllia, thanking him for his understanding and confirming that training of their respective armies on the isles would be allowed and prosperous for both of them. The same messenger from before, who's name later she learned was Thomas, had delivered her yet another letter. This letter revealed the presence of another undeclared state in the isles, this time underground, she almost fainted at the prospect of having yet to deal with another complication when the previous one was narrowly avoided. She was overwhelmed with relief when she learned that the Titenfiscans were dealing with them and that Blair had made a smart decision of giving them co-ownership of the western island, letting them deal with the humanoid frogs and moths.
She finished the dregs of beer in her tankard, waving farewell to the old sailor whom she had become acquainted with up in this northern-most settlement on the eastern island. Wetwood they called it, for the ill suited housing materials that would become waterlogged and warped under the constant wet sea air and frequent snow. She had one letter to write, the progress report to her King. Blair de Brus. Despite her initial internal compliment to her liege, she had come to realise his decision to hand over some control of the western isle to the Titenfiscan was purely down to the un-colonisable land to the Lexidun people. No masterful stroke of strategic power playing nor realising how much pressure that would put on her and deciding to give her a break. No, he just couldn't be arsed. She mused to herself, now a greatly annoyed and drunk person with a quill in one hand. Her hand now began to write to the best of its ability but her annoyance began to slip through onto the parchment. She surmised that the King was probably back home in the capitol by now, laughing and talking about her as she was imprisoned here up in limbo. The arse, the utter buffoon, she thought. I'll show him, I'll show that stupid grinning cun-
Blair's lips were pursed, his face sheepish as Crowley scanned Eimear's letter. Crowley's eyes betrayed his deadpan expression, he couldn't help but widen them at the colourful language on display, he was impressed really. As he finished reading the parchment the two of them sat down, Blair on his throne and Crowley behind his desk by the king's side. They sat in silence as a gentle wind blew through the stony hall, the White Lion banners fluttering ever so slightly on both sides. Blair was the first to break the silence.
"...I'm thinking of giving her a holiday when she gets back."
"Yes, yes. That would be wise Blair, maybe get her some Aberian wine too... actually scratch that thought, I don't wan't to be on the same continent as that women when she's drunk and angry..."
"Aye..." both of the men's voices were meek. "...do you really think she'd seriously take a boot the next time she saw me and ram it up my ars-"
"I don't...!" quickly replied Crowley. "...think she would but its best if you don't find out. She's the best ambassador we have and you've been pushing her hard with this North Star Isles fiasco. Might be best if you go easy on her and stop taking her for granted."
Blair shifted in his throne, slightly flustered. "I didn't know she'd blow up like this! ...I'll make it up to her. I'll send up some flowers! Women like flowers correct?"
Crowley raised an eyebrow. "You know she despises flowers right?"
"Eh.. Aye! Aye I knew that." They both sat in silence for moment, Blair twirling his thumbs around one another, before Crowley brought up a large piece of parchment.
"...so shall we discuss the planned expedition towards the centre of Calveria Alternis, the Magma Tabes and the surrounding land?"
"Oh goddess yes. Lets talk about that right now instead."
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Post by Andromitus on Feb 22, 2018 19:17:50 GMT -5
Iyan Veil Amur, a Scribe-Caste under the Ahkmaur Authority, had been assigned to work in Shzahkt no less then 5 years ago. Since then, as a mere Scrawl with no true Caste authority to her name, she’d gotten quite a fill for the Surface-worlders. As an economist and a translator, she couldn’t help but feel a vested interest in them; Apart from the basic physical differences they often had a different world view and their tongue while simple and guttural —primitive is the how other Scribes would put it— was nonetheless alien and fascinating; not to mention the goods they usually brought into the city.
She saw none of the awe brought by traders in the man in front of her. None of the interest spurred in her by the Guildmasters, nor the worry brought by the Mercenaries. He was, in brutal honesty, rather plain in comparison to some of the outsiders she’d conversed with, not to mention the members of the Higher-Caste. When his eyes met hers it was all she could do to stay still, her blood boiling; She may be just a Scrawl but she still deserved the respect of her Caste.
“They say you’ve brought us a message.” she spoke plainly, her common-tongue holding a distinct accent. Her eyes narrowed as she continued, “I take it you’re a formal diplomat if you claim to represent the…Veritious.” She paused again, making slight gestures with her head, the other Guards within the room stood and left to return to their duties, leaving only the two beside Insignas, themselves moving to stand.
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