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Post by Unfallious on May 1, 2018 12:11:39 GMT -5
Rules: -OP is the God of Gods. You cannot comprehend the OP, but don’t worry he’s there. His apostles go by the name Co-OPs, they may act in the stead of the OP and may act independently or at the direction of his divine hand. Insulting the OP or the Co-Ops or going against their decisions is blasphemy. Blasphemy is punishable by having everything you’ve ever posted on the RP wiped out. Don’t do it. You may disagree with the decisions of the moderation so long as you do it civilly and in this thread. -No meta-gaming - Just don’t do it dudes. -No power-gaming - You’re not a God even if you do control the minds, hearts and souls of a Kingdom. You are still at the mercy of the land, the pantheon of Gods and of course the moderation. Acting as if you are a God is heresy, heresy will get you sternly shouted at. It will then get everything you’ve ever posted smited, so don’t do that. -Stick to the time period - We’re gonna be lenient here for the first few weeks of RP. I know some of you have never done medieval time period before and may have trouble adjusting, that’s fine. But if you continue to go against the period after you’ve been told that it’s incorrect I’ll direct you to the modern RP and tell you to piss off. We’ll go into what the period allows and does not allow later in this post. - No deal-making outside of the IC thread - This technically falls under meta-gaming, but many people don’t seem to see it that way. For those of you who took part in the ModernRP you will understand why this is a rule. I want an RP where we RP, not form alliances in OOC and then lightly threaten each other without RPing. I will deal with infractions of this rule on a case-by-case basis but I am prepared to take you off the map if you insist on acting in this way. If you want to build an alliance, make a deal or plan an attack you do it in the IC. If people try to meta-game because of the posts they read IC then we’ll deal with that separately and harshly. -Don’t RP outside of the established threads - The medieval RP is a strict closed RP where only those accepted by the moderation can take part and only posts made in threads sanctified by the moderation may go on to form the medieval canon. Please don’t form off-shoot threads unless you first run it by the moderation.
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Post by Unfallious on May 1, 2018 12:11:48 GMT -5
Reserved
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Post by Unfallious on May 1, 2018 12:20:14 GMT -5
Previously in Calveria.... (A summary of the events of Chapter 1) The Noble Kingdom of VeritiousVeritious had been woken from its slumber with a jolt. For years it had minded its own business, getting rich off trade whilst languishing in stagnation. This all changed when the monks of the Subterranium, an underground temple that interprets messages from Zypnac that ring out from a colossal beam of energy that flows from the heavens, recieved a warning. Then, for the first time in hundreds of years, the beam briefly went out. Shaken, King Petyr dispatched Jacobi Insignas, messenger, diplomat, and trusted aide to the Crown, to the Kyasii Dominion of Asil, defenders against the corruption that flowed through the Magna Tabes, to warn them of an incoming danger. However, once he got there, Insignas was led down a path of bureaucracy and delay, his message yet to reach the people who could do something. Meanwhile, Veritious continued to hear warnings and mysterious disruptions to the beam, culminating in its corruption and transformation at the hands of Yrutas into a portal through which his corruption and minions could flow freely into the Veritian capital of Amnest. Outnumbered and being overrun, Veritious is tumbling head first into a war with a god. The Kyasii Ahnsijnate of AsilFor the past 200 years the Asil have developed, colonized, and integrated their most recent addition to the country, the southern underriver* of Ahkmaur. Under the rule of the 315th Ahnsijn*, Ahkmeniid Xy’aīl Itmunhotaf, the Asil have pushed themselves decades forward in development; reforms to internal policing crushed what minor pockets of resistance existed in the newly incorporated south and recent advances in naval technology allowed for a rapid increase in internal stability. As the state price list* was reformatted, living standards and payment for the lower Caste* were standardized, and an immense amount of agrarian and aesthetic wealth poured in from these new southern territories, Alzeih is one such Lower-caste, a Servant Grade of the Laborer-Caste* marks her at the lowest possible point on the social hierarchy instituted by the Kyasii Faith*. Illiterate yet fit and in good health, she lived and worked in the Ixthenpijn* Western Farming Region. Her life would change dramatically when the Western Thaur-Gate* closed without warning, and the full extent of Ixthenpijns defenses were mobilized. The Ixthenpijn Farming Regions would be evacuated two weeks later, and thousands within the central cavern would be involuntarily forced into Quarantine as sickness raged throughout the central-cavern and surrounding territories of the Ixthenpijn-Thaur*. Mere days after the Quarantine went into affect, the remaining soldiers of Ixthenpijn, alongside several surrounding Thaur, arrived within the central-cavern and the Western Gate was lifted, marking the first expedition into the western frontier territories, whose position was left uncertain by the mysterious closing of the gate. Kosa, a Vvain Soldier* was on this expedition, being apart of the first wave of Asilic Soldiers sent to explore the Frontier Region*, now assumed to be under some form of attack. It was Kosa’s division that encountered the first of these rumored enemies, a black-scaled Yrutan horror, more neck and teeth than anything else, which attacked from the chopped waves of the Underrivers. Yet, despite their skill, the expedition was overwhelmed by Yrutan forces, and was pushed back to the City of Ixaleft*. Now on the defensive, a second expedition was organized when reinforcements from Ixthenpijn arrived in the city and Alchemical Fire was deployed against the enemy. However, an ill-prepared Army, weakened after almost 200 years of relative peace, was ravaged by a second onslaught of the Black Horde*. As a practical state of war poured into the far-south of Asil, Volthazaan* and the Authority* would be rocked by factionalism and instability following the disappearance of the Ahnsijnate’s Urcilāo*. With fingers pointing to the to the Fepâk, a selective society of progressives within the upper-ranks of the Hierarchy, a Vol’asur Agent* would be sent to find and retrieve the Urcilāo, and whose journeys would lead first to the surface, and then to a the increasingly invigorated state of Lexidus. From his findings, the agent would learn that the Urcilāo had escaped along with a Rohzai* Caravan sent to explore potential markets in the West, however by the time he arrived the party of refugee’s had already split off and’d disappeared. In Asil, as Yrutan forces pushed passed Ixaleft toward the central caverns of Ixthenpijn, the Authority would again be devastated by the sudden death of the Ahnsijn. Following this disaster of such a loss, Lawspeaker* Audiin O’pfax asserted herself as a legal temporary executive authority and ordered the implementation of a policy of Iylmirix* alongside the dispersal of Surveyors as temporary overseers of the Thaur. As if the air of danger couldn’t’ve become thicker, a formal ambassador arrived in the surface settlement of Shzahkt, claiming to represent a surface nation, Veritious, who themselves followed the word of God, if improperly. The Ambassador brought omens of warning regarding a growing Yrutan threat, catching the eye of Mipikaat Vykiaf Zaolnak, a Priest-Caste overseeing the city, who compared these omens with the news of armed struggle in the south, and his own recognition of a weakened holy presence. After being invited into the city, the Priest met the Ambassador. Yet, it was not long into the meeting before the floor began to shake, then the room, before the entire city rocked with waves of stone. Deep beneath Shzahkt in Ixthenpijn, one of the greatest tremors of the half-century went hand in hand with a renewed onslaught of Yrutan monstrosities as an amassment of enraged, blackened horrors pushed forward to the Western Gate, and cavalcades of purple lightning danced along its Seal. With the Tremors and a Roar, the Gate collapsed, and the siege on Ixthenpijn had begun. Index 1. Ahnsijn 1. The chief Legislative, Executive, and Theistic power in the Ahnsijn and Kyasii Faith; the Ahnsijn is appointed for life by the Curate and rules with absolute Authority. 2. The Authority 1. The Authority, aka the Kyasii Authority, is the central governing body of Asil; made entirely of Priest-Caste, the Authority wields near absolute power below the Ahnsijn. 3. Underriver 1. Connecting the underground region of Asil, the Underrivers are a series of often volcanically-active river systems. Known for the famous Xian, a glowing bacteria, the rivers illuminate, propagate, and nutrify the Underground. 4. Price List 1. Prices for almost all items in Asil are designated by either the State Authority or Local Government 5. The Caste System 1. Enforced by the Kyasii Faith and the Authority, the whole of Asilic society is divided into 8 Hereditary Caste’s and 32 pseudo-transient Social Grades. 6. Laborer-Caste 1. The Lowest Caste on the Hierarchy, Laborer-Caste perform menial labor and slave work 7. The Kyasii Faith 1. The central aspect of its culture, the Kyasii faith is the sole dominant and legal faith in Asil 8. Thaur 1. As opposed to Provinces or Princedoms, the Ahnsijnate is divided into a series of administrative divisions known as Thaur 9. Ixthenpijn 1. Ixthenpijn is a larger Thaur in the souther most regions of Asil, it borders the Frontier-Thaur of Abyan to the west named —like most Thaur— after its largest Settlement. 10. Thaur Gate 1. Located in strategic positions across the Ahnsijnate, Thaur-Gate are dam-like structures meant to completely block of river sections. 11. Warrior-Caste; the Vvain 1. Second Highest in the Hierarchy, Vvain-grade Warrior-Caste are often considered specialized foot soldiers 12. The Frontier Regions 1. Southwesternmost regions, Frontier Regions are classified as regions that have either yet to be fully incorporated or are in a period of mid-colonization. 13. Ixaleft 1. A minor grotto-town on the outskirts of Ixthenpijn 14. The Black Horde 1. A nickname given to the Yrutan Horde 15. Volthazaan 1. The Capitol of the Ahnsijnate, Volthazaan is the absolute center of Asilic Cultural, Political, Economic, Social, and Religious life. 16. Urcilāo 1. The heir to the acting Ahnsijn, Urcilāo are meant to replace the acting Ahnsijn upon their death 17. Warrior-Caste; the Vol’asur 1. Highest Social grade in their Caste, the Vol’asur act similarly to a Secret Police and tracking force within the Ahnsijnate 18. Rohzai 1. A catch-all term for the series of tribesman, guilders, and townsmen littering the barren landscapes of the Asilic Surface. 19. Lawspeaker 1. Vice-Executive power of the Kyasii Authority, the Lawspeaker is appointed by the Ahnsijn into a position similar to that of a weakened Prime-Minister 20. Iylmirix 1. A policy of Isolationism; in essence Iylmirix represents a “Closed-Country Edict” barring goods or peoples from entry or exit across the border. The Valleian OrderHaving been afflicted by the death of the Imperator subsequently followed by a global earthquake has left The Imperial Communion of The Valleian Orders in a precarious situation. The new Imperator Aparaius I has been selected by the College of Communes but has only just arrived in the Imperial Capital, Edinginia. As soon as he steps foot in the city, the horrific mess of things becomes apparent to him. One-third of the city’s buildings have collapsed, and reports telling of the great damages have already been sent in via Crystal by every single Order and See in the nation. There have been small, isolated revolts in the Various Orders, each of them being easily put down by the loyal Orders in relatively short amounts of time (~4 days). Aparaius has only been in the city for a day, attempting to assemble the vestiges of a Cabinet that will help him govern a nation in crisis. The Noble Kingdom of LexidusKing Blair de Brus is the current king of the Noble Kingdom of Lexidus, of which has been at peace for
over 500 years. He is well respected and loved by the peasantry due to his down to earth and friendly nature,
this rubs nobility up the wrong way however. Plans have been underway for quite sometime now to colonise what
was the Forgotten Isles, the city of Nola has been established. This however has brought Lexidus into contact
with its northern neighbours, narrowly avoiding conflict with the Fyllians and establishing friendly relations.
Concern planted itself as Asakorus expanded West; antagonising Fyllia. Whilst this occured, the long standing
friendship between Lexidus and Titenfisca was reaffirmed and Rohzai merchants of Asil made their first every trade with
Lexidus. Then a letter arrived, from the Polar Dominion of Asakor, a casus beli threatening war if Lexidus was
to intervene in the Asakorian conquest of Fyllia. King Blair de Brus, the first Monarch to do so in Lexidus'
history, declared war on a foreign country. The campaign was swift, the Asakii unaware that Lexidus would rise
to the challenge, Yola's Point was quickly established in Southern Asakor and Lexidus with 10,000 troops marched straight
Asakorus. With them were Titenfiscan Special Forces and Fyllians to the west, defending against Asakor, as the siege began
a terrible quake erupted across Calveria throwing many people into danger but putting the siege in Lexidus' favour.
With the capture of Asakorus and the High Master executed and Torvus, the deposed High Chief, reinstated as sole ruler.
Lexidus was victorius, with little dead or wounded when compared to their enemy. The Northern Alliance is now being discussed by Lexidus, Fyllia, Titenfisca and to bring stability to the region. The
connection to the Patron god of Lexidus, Myratnis is fading and Yrutas is causing havok with the Mages of Myratnis.
Eimear Nola, the Royal Ambassador, is in Titenfisca. Head Merchant Saoirse is helping people from the post-earthquake
rubble. The King sits with an injured soldier, Dunsley of Loness and a little girl. Of whom is on the run from
mysterious dwellings underground and has claimed herself as Princess Leanabth Yola Lexidus the true monarch of Lexidus. The Republic of Kyras sandstorms have been increasing in frequency and are exiting Western Kyras into the Kriegsfalden Sea, putting the capital at risk, the regional city of Velran was destroyed by one of said sandstorms, a rebellion has begun to form in the northwest by a guy named Atek, who's gone insane and believes that he's the representation of Rigma; meanwhile, an expedition was launched in the Kyran Underground to escort a tribe of Scorched Ones, only that ends with the Scorched Ones trapped in a cave-in near the Asil border while a Phylakitai (essentially a lesser noble) kills a Shard of Rigma, punishable by death: odds are he's going to invade the largest settlement in the Underground and start a campaign to carve out his own nation-state, and the state church has begun to receive visions about the rebellion and invasion, which will be used to spur government action against both. TL;DR secession all around and the Republic might undergo a regime change to fight off the rebels before stepping their game up and fighting the corruption, entering the political scene. TitenfiscaIn Titenfisca, things have remained fairly normal domestically save for a visit by King Blair from neighboring Lexidus and the marshalling of forces to take part in the war against Asakor. It is outside the island that most things have changed. Anicent partners such as the Frougen and Ganohito have been rediscovered during the Titenfiscan exploration and settlement of the north star isles. As previously mentioned, Titenfisca also participated with their mercenary forces during the war against Asakor. The waning power of Myratnis has been a great cause for concern across the land, with the secretive Wahfooe society recently voting to focus their shared resources on combatting this new threat. Surrounding this endeavour has been rumors of boats fishing up statues during the dawn hours, magical artifacts being utilized and most recently, some suspect their involvement in the release of an otherworldy beast of Yrutan corruption. The Arctic Federation of Aeisa'karNo one expected the Asakorian Insurrection... Until the Cold War happened. Torvus Delakarz was the High Chief of the Polar Dominion of Asakor, assisted by his longtime best mate, Mar'ar Ne'arzen. For decades, the position of High Chief has been that of a sleeping giant; though technically bestowed with near-unlimited authority, the heavily-decentralized nature of the nation meant the High Chiefs of yesteryear often ruled with a hands-off approach to governance; Delakarz was little different, until he decided to try his hand at colonization; he persuaded his High Council to oversee an expedition to colonize acres upon acres of unclaimed land to their west. However, the move caused concern in the other northern nations, especially Fyllia, who feared an outright invasion. In an attempted to avoid war (and possibly rekindle alliances long forgotten), Torvus and Mar'ar organized a diplomatic summit with Fyllia and Lexidus, Fyllia's great ally. However, to no one's knowledge, Mar'ar began plotting behind Torvus' back, becoming mentally unhinged with the distancing of the gods due to Yrutas' slow restrengthening. He manipulated the High Chief unto rescinding the summit and pushing forward with the colonization, causing anger in the north. When Delakarz came to his senses and confronted Mar'ar about his manipulation, he was attacked by Ne'arzen and deposed; Mar'ar then became "High Master" and openly declared war against Fyllia and Lexidus, with plans to take Titenfisca in the future. The war declaration resulted in both a successful Asakorian foothold on Fyllian territory and a massive invasion by Lexidus. Torvus, meanwhile, with the help of a deserter priest and a veteran Alkin captain, managed to escape bondage and ran into Lexidun forces, making his case to recapture the throne. Before long, Asakor had fallen, with Mar'ar taken into custody, and promptly seized by Delakarz, who had the former shaman brutally executed at his own hand. The next day, Torvus was recoronated, and he made sweeping reforms to the nation, appointing himself "Chief-Protector", renaming the nation the "Arctic Federation of Aeisa'kar", and joining the Northern Alliance as a part of a liberation deal struck with Lexidus (in addition to an annex on the southern coast, Yola's Landing).
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Post by Unfallious on May 1, 2018 12:20:50 GMT -5
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Post by Lex Caledonia on May 1, 2018 14:27:00 GMT -5
King Blair de Brus, Yola's Landing - Asakor
The sea was calm. Its waves lazily rolled into the coast, water meeting sand and then frost, before resting on rocks and wood placed by a dock. The coastline was marked with numerous ships, sailing in and out of the port, the waves gently pushing them in and out. The setting sun a brilliant orange as it settled into the sea and its blue horizon. The sight brought great calm to him, as he gazed into it from his balcony. The distant wail of seagulls and pottering of workers doing very little to tarnish this sense of calm. All was calm in Yola's Landing, mostly. For King Blair de Brus, scanning his people and the sight before him, he felt anxious and even worried. Leaning on the stone balcony, Blair surveyed Yola's Landing further. Ships were hauling materials constantly, like clockwork they would leave and another would take its place, bringing construction materials for the rebuilding of Asakorus and trade for Lexidus' new ally. All of this stemming from what was now Lexidun land, which stretched for miles and surrounded the crown jewel of this annexed land, Yola's Point. A grand fort that was quickly becoming a castle, its sandstone construction a light beige and contrasting against the snow white landscape. Basic roads and paths snaked out from its courtyard and port, passing stone and wooden gates into the white Asakorian expanse. It was quickly becoming a major trade port for them, Blair was shocked when he arrived yesterday to see how much Yola's Landing had grown since he disembarked from it one week ago.
What a week it had been, riding home with Dunsley Hovis, whom received a heroes welcome when they made it to Loness. The young laddie had confessed to Blair that he was more worried about how his own mother would react to his injuries as opposed to Dunsley himself worrying about them. It was, at least, one mother that did not receive Blair's letters. The letters meant for widows and family members who's boys never came back from the Cold War. 123 letters were mass produced and sent out, he signed everyone, his signature digging deep into the parchment. Desperately trying to portray his true sorrow that no mere letter could ever convey. He wanted to meet every recipient and tell them how truly sorry he was and how it weighed on him. But he couldn't. He had work to do, the quake had hit various cities hard and reports of fatalities and crumbling buildings were rampant. He mobilised a disaster relief force to all cities across Lexidus, to help the wounded, help the rebuilding process and compensate businesses and his affected people. Crowley had told him how he had prayed as he hid under a table, shielding a maid from loose rocks. Blair hugged the old man close and tight, the two of them in the ruined war room. He couldn't lose Crowley, not now, he had lost his father long ago and couldn't bare to lose another one.
Then there was the girl. The one which had fled to a war-zone and had to be protected by Dunsley of Loness. She had been at the forefront of the entire war, even saving the lad as it concluded. Leanabh. Princess Leanabh Yola Lexidus, daughter of Petre the Eternal and heir to the Lexidun throne. The girl had recited her full name, a mantra instilled upon her from a young age, Blair could tell; for he himself had mantra taught into him repeatedly growing up as a royal. At first, Blair laughed and was amused by her, asking that if she was a princess... where was her crown? The girl sheepishly replied she had no crown but rather had a piece of one, unveiling from her pocket a brilliant blue gem. Blair stopped laughing immediately and instantly recognised the jewel. Hundreds of years ago, King Petre the Eternal of the Kingdom of Camelon, disappeared one night; never to be found. All he left behind was his brilliant silver crown band, which featured three bright blue emeralds on the front, one of them being absent as the crown lay on the throne never to be worn again. Now a girl claiming to be the daughter of a 865 year old monarch from Lexidus' initial royal bloodline sat supposedly before him. A grand enigma but one that would have to wait. As he returned to Camelon and his castle, Blair had the girl make lodging there. Eimear, who had returned from Titenfisca after the quake had hit, was entrusted with the girls care along with Crowley.
A chill swiped Blair across his face as dusk encroached. Soon his guests would be arriving, the perpetrators of his anxiety, representatives of Titenfisca, Fyllia and the newly formed Aeisa'kar. They would be sat around a circular table and would sign the Treaty of Yola, bringing an official end to the war and bringing forth the terms associated with it. Then the Northern Alliance treaty was to be presented. Of which would result in the four countries making indefinite non-aggression packs against one another, with a pledge that if one of their number was attacked, the other three were under oath to assists them. As well, whomever would break the pact and attack another member, they would find themselves against the remaining members as well. The Northern Alliance would be a military and semi-political alliance, bringing peace and stability to the region, with their various military coming together if the situation would ever arise and trade being open and allowed to flourish between the countries. An elected or appointed person would become the representative of each member state, the four would then form the Northern Alliance Council, managing this pact.
Blair de Brus sighed deep and hard, hoping the Titenfiscans and Fyllians would accept the deal. True peace could be achieved and Lexidus could truly feel safe in its own region. Exiting his balcony and returning to his room, Blair began to dress appropriately for the upcoming guests. Placing his blue royal raiment on top of his black silk shirt and trousers, he then proceeded to lace up his ankle high dark leather boots, he could never stand fancy royal shoes made of fur and felt; he preferred practicality and comfort. Facing the mirror, he lazily glanced over the white lion emblem adorning his chest, its eye a brilliant blue... like an emerald. Shaking his head and rubbing his dark brown beard, Blair grabbed his crown, placing it on top of his curly dark hair. He was ready, well, as ready as he could be. With one final sigh he made his way out of his room and into the fort. He hoped Prime Minister Helena would show up to this signing, he could use a familiar and friendly face for what was to come.
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Post by Vista Major, MP on May 1, 2018 18:51:16 GMT -5
PART I Kata'var Harbour (Kata'varwasholen), Adkora, Aeisa'kar
The early morning brought with its peaceful sunrise a gentle, gelid breeze. Against the sails of the newly-christened cargo ships, the wind was more than welcomed by the merchants as they loaded their wares, the ambassadors as they boarded their cabins, and the Chief-Protector as he looked out on the productive scene before him.
Torvus Delakarz wore a thin, dark grey cloak with gold seams, his signature sapphire necklace still hanging from his snow white fur neck, and an axe buckled to his waist. His cobalt eyes scanned the makeshift Kata'var Harbour for any issues with the maiden voyages, but all seemed to be going smoothly; at least thing was. Ever since the siege ended and the Lexidun liberators left Adkora for Yola's Landing, progress has been slow for Aeisa'kar; the highway from the capital to the annex was only an ice gravel path, the eterice mines were working overtime to produce enough of the crystalline product to rebuild the once-venerable halls of the city, and the local chiefs were starting to resist Torvus' efforts to centralize power. One would think that he was moving too fast too quick, but the Chief-Protector would beg to differ.
"My Chief," said a voice from behind Torvus. When the Chief turned around, he came face to face with a young Alkin messenger with scarlet red fur and a checkerboard uniform; in their paws was a thick letter tied with coarse string. When Torvus took the mail, the messenger immediately knelt before turning back where he came from, running agily towards Adkora proper. With a small smile, Torvus cut the string with his index claw and started sifting through the many pages of the letter. With each word, the Chief-Protector's eyes seemed to widen and his heart started to race.
"Impossible." Chamber of the Governess (Chatasen Govornen), Grandara Falls, Svorand
"It's about time one of your kind came along."
Sitting behind a low, elegant, oakwood table was a creature with thin, smooth, tan fur and enormous bone-colored antlers that were shaped like the branches of a tree. They had golden eyes, were adorned in clothes make of silk and jewels, and had a facial expression that appeared to be a mix of amusement and discontent, as if pleasantly annoyed by the intrusion that was the Eastern Expedition.
On the other side of the ornate table awkwardly sat a pair of Alkin twins, a Hyarin, and two Barskins, flanked all sides by guards of the same race as the head kin, who stared at them intensely.
"If you had waited a couple weeks, we would have reached out ourselves. But, alas, your nation has moved faster than we expected. I believe it's called 'Aeisa'kar' now, no?"
There was a moment of tense stillness before the Aeisakarian party nodded stiffly.
"Well, at least our intelligence isn't that out of date. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Cassara Hrolend, Governess of this, the city of Grandara Falls. I am also a Yrutken; your people used to tell tales about us; they were right about a few things, but ignorant of many others, unfortunately."
Silence.
"I assume that you are Barskin, Alkin, and Hyarin. Such interesting kin you are: barbaric, yes, but you know how to survive in the arctic lands without freezing to death."
"If I may," spoke one of the Barskin at least after taking a gulp. "Would you mind explaining to me how in Yrutas' name we've never heard of you before?"
The Governess chuckled. "It was all a matter of deceit; centuries ago, we received a divine message that it was our time to leave the arctic. We took our entire civilization and moved it eastward towards our new dawn, as ordained by our beloved Father of Finality."
"Father of Finality?" the Alkin twins recited in unison.
"Most other nations know him by the name of 'Decidius'. We have no qualms with other referring to him that way, but we Yrutken usually default to 'Father'."
"And yet, you leave no trace of your civilization?" the Hyarin inquired. "That's impossible."
"Nothing is impossible with primordial guidance, Hyarin," the Governess countered. "It was our blessing and our curse to remove ourselves from the world beyond; we've been in no war, conducted no trade, and, as a result, have been in a state of stability ever since, at the expense, perhaps, of innovation and expansion. Our nation has changed little since the Exodus. Yours, however, has evolved many times throughout the eras. New gods, new wars, new leaders, even a genocide."
The other Barskin winced. Noticing, the Governess put on a solemn expression. "It was just history, Barskin. Painful history, yes, but history nonetheless."
"And you did nothing," the Barskin retorted. "You know everything that's ever happened to us, and you never intervened!"
"If we did, Decidius would have surely punished us. We were instructed by him, through our Seers of the Mist, that we were to stay apart until the time that a great power would come to threaten the world we know."
"And what is this 'great power' exactly?" one of the Alkin asked, perplexed. The Governess gently shook their head.
"I do not know," she said. "Even the Seers are having trouble seeing what is to come. There is not enough strong enough pure blood to power their visions, I would imagine.
The Hyarin widened their eyes. "Blood?!"
"Indeed. Now, before I go on explaining our faith to you, perhaps you should send word to your superior that there is an old nation on their horizon that wishes to come back into the light." The Governess stood up, and was easily the height of the Barskin, if not slightly taller. They walked over to a desk, rummaged around, and came back with a stack of parchment and an ink quill.
"I'll give you some time to write in peace. I'll be back when we are ready to receive you for dinner. The letter will be sent to your capital by bird afterwards."
Without another word, the Governess left along with her guards, and the expedition party was left to their own devices. Kat'ren River (Kat'renwaslanen), Aeisa'kar
"This Northern Alliance had better be good."
"Mira'den, please have some faith."
"Easy for you to say."
"It is."
"Jtkarus, don't you think this is a little suspicious?"
"I think it's fair. Besides, it's not our job to judge; we're supposed to sail to Lexidus, sign this treaty, and ensure that we are no longer in an internationally-vulnerable position. Besides, with the state of the world right now, we could use the allies."
"I don't think they will be too happy to see the people that tried to invade them."
"Well, luckily, we lost."
"Jtkarus!"
"Call me a pessimist about the whole affairs, but I doubt we could have sustained such an empire for long."
"I'd call you worse if I didn't fear divine retribution."
"It will all be okay by the Mother's grace, Mira'den. Think of all the good that could come of this Alliance."
"And the bad."
"Yes, and the bad. But it will outweigh the good."
"Are you sure?"
"Without a single doubt in my mind. Now, do something that isn't so down-in-the-dumps; we'll be at the end of the river by midday tomorrow, then it's another day's caravan to Yola on land."
"Fine."
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Post by axeldonia on May 2, 2018 13:40:49 GMT -5
Erika, Great Squid Cove and Hospital, Mündungshafen
Erika burst through the swing doors to the hospital with a panicked expression, running up to the counter. Without a word the receptionist pointed to the left, having probably led many others from the earthquake the same way. Erika continued her headlong rush down the corridors, coming upon a caretaker holding a stack of parchments. After exchanging a few words, Erika finally found her way to the small room where the girl she met in her vision now lay, facing away from her and seemingly clutching her stomach. “H-How are you doing?” Erika hesitantly placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder and she turned around with a moan. “Hey there.” The pair embraced for a moment, before Erika sat down gently at the edge of the bed. “Well, I’m not dead for starters. I have this weird headache and I’m constantly tired, but otherwise I’m fine. The caretakers say I should recover fine if I just rest and eat for a while.” “B-But what about the infection?” The girl smiled, lowering her head and revealing a pair of small punctures on her head, currently filled with a blue healing salve that clearly stood out against the vibrant red of her tentacles. “I don’t know why, but this apparently happened to all the other patients in this wing too. Woke up with a pair of puncture wounds and a small headache, but otherwise free from corruption.” Erika shrugged. Squidspawn where know to be resistant against diseases and regardless she had no formal education in medicine. “By the way, I never got to know your name. What is it?” “O-Oh, I don’t have one. Only humans get names.” “Nonsense! Tell you what, I’ll take you to the library and help you choose one!” The girl’s expression lit up in joy and disbelief. “Y-You’d do that for me?” ‘”Of course I would silly! Now, can you walk?” The pair began a slow stroll as they left the hospital, taking the time to familiarize the girl with some of the more important parts of the city. Almost everywhere they went there was some damage from the earthquake, with debris littering the water. Geography being what it was, the Titenfiscans where familiar with smaller quakes and built their structures to resist such, but something this scale was very unusal and caught the city unprepared. The library had escaped damage however and the two quickly made their way inside and began scouring through a wide range of books, oblivious to two pairs of eyes staring at them from the dark and dusty rafters.
Helena, Yola’s landing-Aeisa'kar
A small caravan of wagons flying the Titenfiscan flag pulled into the fort’s courtyard and let off their passengers, consisting of a diverse group of Squidspawn, Cobolds, Enekebe, Kouleva and even a few humans. Most of the Squidspawn wore cloaks made of thick wool and odd, mushroom-like hats that seemed to cover up all their Tentacles neatly. The Enekebe wore thick silken sweaters and hats, but their furs seemed to do the job fine in regards to their lower half. The Kobolds wore a thick layer of silk similar to the Enekebe, save for their oddly shaped boots stretching far up their feet. The Kouleva looked more like the rolls of wool ships used when transporting cargo than living things, covered from head to toe in clothing and looking altogether miserable, the reason for which soon became rather clear; Whilst the upper half of their tails where wrapped up as much as all the others, their lower half was completely exposed to the cold snowy ground, as covering out would prevent the friction they needed to move. Regardless, the assembled began moving toward the fort’s innards rather quickly and quickly found themselves inside with a collective sigh of relief. Hearing someone approach, Helena made her way to the front and pulled off her hat, revealing a golden coronet taking the shape of a pair of olive branches holding a single deep blue gem aloft in front. Hopefully this whole ordeal would go over smoothly. She hoped everyone back home could manage on their own after the earthquake and she’d love to be there helping them, but this was a matter of pressing concern. “Well then. Let’s get this over and done with.”
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Post by Vista Major, MP on May 3, 2018 20:25:57 GMT -5
PART II Yola's Landing (Yolandieren), Lexidun Annex
"What a feat of engineering."
Mira'den and Jtkarus stepped graciously out of their caravan upon reaching the gates of Yola's Landing, wearing opposite navy and silver cloaks whose hoods covered their faces and sleeves engulfed their arms. The sandstone that plastered each building of the port city stood out like an affluent blight against the Aeisakarian arctic - irresistible eyesores.
"They could have asked for eterice," Mira'den scowled as they walked through the walls and into the settlement. "This place looks absolutely atrocious."
"Well, Mira, they aren't like us," said Jtkarus. "Besides, it's their city - let them be."
"On our land."
"Land that we lost, let me remind you."
"Not for long, if the democrats have their way."
Jtkarus turned to stare confusingly at Mira'den. "Who are these 'democrats'?"
"They're upset that the Chief-Protector hasn't reinstated the High Council, and they don't like that he's trying to concentrate his power. Rumor has it they want to burn this city and try Delakarz with treason."
"But we can't let that happen!"
"I know, duator. I doubt they'll get very far, anyway."
"But you sympathize with their cause?"
Mira'den didn't respond.
"Mira!"
"Look, forget I brought it up. Let's just keep walking until we get where we need to be. Okay?"
Jtkarus paused for a moment, then nodded.
As the Alkin ambassadors traversed Yola's Landing, they came across a plethora of street merchants, mildly drunken sailors, fair maidens, and more humans than they could count. Though still foreign to them, Yolandieren was nothing short of a small marvel. Jtkarus, especially, secretly awaited the day that Yola's Landing was a major city - the possibilities for further partnership between Aeisa'kar and Lexidus grew each and every day, not the least of these being the Northern Alliance, one of the first of its kind. Mira'den, on the other hand, was perfectly content with Yola's Landing staying the size it was now, and simply wanted to appease the Lexidun, Titenfiscans, and Fyllians enough to get them off the Chief-Protector's back. She had little love for humanity, especially considering the jeers and sneers she heard as they walked the avenues of the port city. To Mira'den, Yolandieren was a monument to a disgraceful period that would be better left in the wastebin of history; to Jtkarus, however, Yola's Landing was an opportunity to rise above a short blimp in Aeisa'kar's otherwise great legacy.
"We're here."
Before the Alkin pair was a fortified palace with a small band of human soldiers standing guard out front. As they went to look at the ambassadors, Jtkarus and Mira'den let down their hoods, letting their pointed ears stand at attention. To the Chief-Protector,
The Eastern Expedition has taken an unexpected turn. To preface, we have been able to scout many hectares of land beyond our borders, and we believe that much of it is suitable for settlement. However, there is reason to believe that these vast expanses of land do not belong to us or any nation we have known prior to today. See, we are now witness, Chief-Protector, to a realm that we had once believed to be mere legend, or nonexistent at all.
These lands are claimed by the Eternal Republic of Svorand. The Svorandians are of a race we have never encountered: they appear to have branches made of polished boned jotting from the tops of their heads, and their fur is thin but fair; they call themselves "Yrutken". Their homes and establishments are made of the finest wood we've ever seen, and their fashion is most bright, outlandish, and colorful. And this is just in one of their cities: Grandara Falls. We have plans to travel to their capital, Sarandakar, within the week. Meantime, we are in the residence of the chieftess of Grandara Falls, the Governess Cassara Hrolend. She is a beautiful kin with an even more impressive mind.
We have also learned something of particular interest regarding these Yrutken: they worship Decidius, and call him the "Father of Finality". We know not how to make sense of this; all things considered, we should have been sacrificed for one of their blood rituals by now, but they seem to have no interest in keeping us captive. As a matter of fact, they treat us as honored guests, and the Governess herself anticipated our two nations making contact sooner rather than later, and they claim to have been observing us since our beginning. We admit, however, that we also seem to be children to the Yrutken: their civilization seems quite a few years ahead of ours, and their tribes are much different from our own, though they maintain that they haven't changed their society in many decades. That being said, perhaps we have much to learn from them. If we move rightly, we could unite Svorand and Aeisa'kar under our banner. We shall see...
We shall keep you informed of our progress as much as possible; the Governess has personally guaranteed that our messages will get to Adkora safe and sound by way of bird, which we still find strange; nevertheless, we digress.
May the Mother and Son bless you. And, perhaps, even the Father.
~The Eastern Expedition Force
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Post by Chiernarosa on May 5, 2018 2:46:35 GMT -5
Qorti tal-Gvern SuperjuriThe Grand Master sat in front of the 576th Falanx, flanked by katet of the L-ewwel Distakkament tad-Difiża tal-Monasteru*, their Long Bows holstered over their backs, instead wielding their shashka*. Across from them, the Falanx was flanked by the 1st Kotek Honor Guard*, their white cloaks kept down as they held their repeating crossbows close to them. The Falanx was looking over skin-scroll reports, or rather most of them were looking over it as two of the councilmen were arguing over a specific one with a map of the Republic stenciled in, a circle in particular over a part of the eastern territories.
"We must face facts, you ignorant child: the Phylakes in Nimir have failed to send their reports because a revolt is happening in their territories," the older of the two councilmen said, slamming against the table with his free fist as the sword was pointed at his younger contemporary, the shells and beads of the Ċinturini ta 'Marque* clinking together cheerfully as the councilman continue to speak, "I've seen it in the eyes of the peasants there: if the Phylakes aren't going to declare themselves independent of the Valdības un Savienības Pilnvaras, then those peasants will. By the Necrominus, I swear those peasants may even try to govern themselves, the very thought of it!"
"And I'm telling you, you wyrm-headed sycophant, the peasants are not in a position to revolt for political reasons: the reason why Nimir has failed to relay reports is that the peasants are protesting over the actions of the Phylakes," the younger councilman said, sword also drawn as the Ċinturini glittered in the candlelight, only four of them in comparison to the older man's seven Ċinturini, "Do not be blind to the complaints those peasants send: for the Warfather's sake, the most recent one, Azkalon, has had a history of conflict with the Temple of War even before his commanding Somatophylax nominated him as Phylakitai of the settlement. Besides, those peasants can't even read or recite the Reicat ag-Hadel - for you to think that they would take power themselves is going in violation of the Pilnvaras, you imbecile."
The older councilman growled in rage, jumping over the table as he attempted to stab at the younger man, the councilman in-between them, unfortunately, being smothered and kneed by his contemporary. In response, the younger councilman also lunged forward, only being stopped as the 1st Kotek guards stepped in, pulling both men away from the table. In the middle of all this, the Grand Master simply looked around at the surprisingly laconic fixtures inside the courtroom, the only significant decoration being the statue of the Warfather placed above and behind the table, the unmistakable grimace and roar of primal rage etched into the stone as he lunged forward, serrated ax pointed at those before him. Looking back, the Grand Master noticed the chairman of the Falanx standing up, a look of annoyance on his face as he spoke, "Selax, Rein'tan, must we go through another convention with the both of you tearing at each other's throats. Guards, please escort the two gentlemen from the room so we can properly discuss matters with our guest." The guards nodded, taking both men with them, the councilmen struggling to pull away and strike at each other.
The doors were shut as the Chairman slumped back into his seat with a loud sigh, followed by a quite utter, "I didn't pay and kill enough men just so I would have to deal with this shit," only to cough and adjust himself once more. Pulling a scroll out, he looked at the Grand Master before reading off, "Grand Master Vortex ka-T'Reinat, you submitted a request for audience in the Qorti on the 29th Cycle of Fructara 375 ARA*, or as the records indicate, last week, correct?" Vortex nodded as the Chairman continued to read, "Your request stated that you desired immediate assembly concerning the possibility of a threat to the Republic, particularly that the earthquake from last week served as a prelude to said threat, yes?"
"Correct, my Lord," Vortex said as he reached into his pouch, pulling out several scrolls from their fasteners, "Last week, the earthquake that struck Kyras had the side effect of granting me a vision of the west. As I recall, at the beginning of Fermat, this assembly issued orders for all formations of the Kyran Army within the Western Sea to gather at Velran awaiting additional orders, particularly concerning the matters of increasing Valnaran and the failure with the sacrifices for the Season of the Thirst, yes?" The Chairman nodded, gesturing for Vortex to continue, "Additionally, these units, although they had been confirmed to have moved out, they never sent out a notice concerning landfall in Velran, even with the distance of Velran to Kep'l Merta, right?" The Chairman nodded again, a look of impatience on his face as he gestured Vortex to finish, "What I saw concerned the events in Velran: the town fell to a Valnare, the men made landfall, and were slaughtered by the beasts of the forests. A few survived, but they were corrupted: their leader, when I first saw him, he was scarred, monstrous in appearance, but that was not the end of him. I saw him standing in Kástro Velran, and he was now declaring himself as a son of the Warfather, his skin coated in ash and metal. Anyone who opposed him were slaughtered, given as sacrifices to the Warfather. Whatever he is planning with those men, it will end with him sailing to Varan, to overthrow the Republic. I am telling all of you, we must stop this man before he allows the Corruption to spread from all the death he renders to Kyras: summon the Army, raise militias, anything to prevent a victory."
The room grew silent, the only sounds being the sounds of mock-battles between the Kotek guards outside, the Chairman staring at Vortex as he stood up, his voice lowered and silky, "I am to believe that you, a priest suffering from a head injury, had premonitions of an insane warlord that has not even been confirmed by the other Kástra or Kep'l Merta. Forgive more for my heretical statements, but that is the biggest pile of wyrmshit I have heard in my years serving on the Falanx." Walking away from the table, the Chairman gestured for the guards to escort Vortex out, only to hear frantic knocking on the door: letting out a frustrated growl, he gestured for the guards to open the door.
Suddenly, two figures tumbled into the room: one was a hertag courier, the gashes across his face and chest only now healing, while his companion was an Aegelse*, her robes torn to reveal a bare body covered in bruises and charred skin. Wincing, both of them stood to attention, the Kotek guards tearing their own cloaks to cover the two, the hertag nodding before pulling out a skin-scroll and reading, "General Xalkayr, we have urgent news regarding Velran and the forces that made landfall. If you will grant us a moment of time with he Falanx, we will give what we collected from Kástro Velran." Xalkayr looked back at Vortex, who only had a look of urgency and anxiousness, before giving them a motion to continue: the Aegelse reached into the pouch on her right side, wincing as she brushed her hand against the bruised flesh, pulling out several sketch imagery, including that of Kástro Velran, "Velran fell two weeks before landfall, based on the age of the corpses: a Valnare had struck it and dissipated after making landfall. The scavengers turned on the formations that arrived, but one of the men, Sergeant Atek den-Ten'saii, led a counterattack and kept enough men alive at dawn. Their commander, a kreigsaldr assigned to the 7th Foot Regiment, Detachment Krystan*, was killed and Atek took command, but he went insane from the violence. He convinced himself that he was leading a holy war to restore Rigma's worship and took Kástro Velran, which was damaged following the ax-fall*. From what we gathered, Atek had the support of mutinying forces that also reached Velran but never disembarked and subsequently captured the Kástro for himself. Before we fled, I learned he was planning on launching an assault upon Kástro Ronan, but I couldn't gather more before he began trying to 'break' us."
Xalkayr pondered for several seconds, digesting the information before suddenly going shock-still in horror as he whispered in a near-silent tone, "The Fog Splitter." Vortex looked at him in horror as well, realizing what he entailed, "The 13th Mariners are also stationed there as well, aren't they?" Xalkayr nodded as he looked at the map, already pulling up previous information of fire-water shipments and where the specialists were stationed at, "If this is the same man you predicted, Grand Master, then he really is aiming to march on Varan: if he gains the Fog Splitter, he'll be able to break through any defensive line," "And if he gets the weapons from the 13th Marines," Vortex said, "Then any defense on the island will be overcome."
Xalkayr turned as the Aegelse pulled out a final scroll, stating, "Atek asked for self-portraits as warnings to nearby communities that he would attack them: mine was rejected, but I recorded most of his physical details," displaying a man with metal coils embedded into his hairline, either hanging freely or also embedded into his neck, shoulders, or back, the few remaining burn scars blending into his scowling face. Turning to him, Vortex nodded as he stated, "That's him: if we move quickly, a defensive line can be developed at Ronan." Xalkayr returned to the Falanx's table, pulling a skin-scroll out and signing quickly, "Fellow members of the Falanx, we are at the precipice of war: a rebel, daring to call himself the son of our God, has threatened to wage a campaign of depraved bloodshed against all of us. Therefore, I move for deploying the Black Cohorts, Death Guard, White Arban, and the Red Marines to prepare the defence of Ronan and the Tidfadl Riverbank*. All in favor of this order, indicate support: all against, indicate opposition." The men stood up, removing their Ċinturini and unsheathing their swords: Xalkayr followed last, tapping the swords with his own blade before placing it back into the scabbard, "Order passes unanimously: Grand Master, you are free to take your leave if you desire, the Falanx still needs additional information from our guests," Standing up, Vortex nodded at Xalkayr, giving his thanks to the hertag and Aegelse before donning his cloak and exiting the courtroom.
1. L-ewwel Distakkament tad-Difiża tal-Monasteru - Translated as the 1st Monastery Defence Detachment, the unit was formed in an agreement between the Temple of War and the Falanx for 15 Ċinturin, collecting various tribal warriors and early Kyran militiamen for defending the Temple's lands and ecclesiarchy. Members of the Detachment are often sent to protect higher-ranking Temple priests during meetings with the Falanx, Concilium Unionis Reipublicae, and the Judicial Council, though conflicts between them and Kyran soldiers are few due to mutual understanding.
2. Shashka - A highly-refined sword, the shashka is a single-handed guardless sword with a curved single-edged blade, designed to meet both slashing and thrusting damage. While it lacks a hilt, most Kyran shashka swords utilize a large pommel, often curved but also capable of holding smaller blades, weighed clubs, or small daggers that serve as secondary weapons. When properly tempered, a shashka sword is capable of damaging and effortlessly penetrating through light armor, though the process requires months of smithing and high costs. Due to their specific construction, the shashka is only given to specialist units, katet, and the Arban.
3. 1st Kotek Honor Guard - One of the Republic's most highly-decorated units, the 1st Kotek is a tribal formation gathered from the Kotek tribe on the central-western coast of the Kreigsfalden Sea, most being descendants of the Kotek Defenders. The Defenders were members of the tribe who supported the collapsing Imperial Government of the Tekkan during the Great War, mounting successful defenses against the rival nobles and generals attempting to claim control of the Empire. Their high casualty rates soon led to a Kotek settlement being established in the northern parts of Varan Island, to maintain closeness to the capital and provide additional warriors to protect Varan. After the formation of the Republic, the 1st Falanx gave their appreciation by granting the Kotek government support and their own unit, honoring the dead Imperials and Kotek Defenders, now charged to defend Varan.
4. Ċinturin ta 'Marque - The ubiquitous currency of Kyras, the Ċinturin is a woven belt worn over the shoulder and decorated with painted shells, beads, and glass bulbs, which indicate the personal records of the Ċinturin's owner, along with social standing and wealth. The Ċinturini are produced at the Kyran Reserve Center in the villa of Xanakht, with bidders paying high amounts to obtain the belts. Other methods include being gifted one by a tribe or settlement, serving in a campaign, or buying a Ċinturin from a holder.
5. Kyran Dating System - Devised to chart the long history of the Kyran nation, the dating system is unique for having three calendar eras: Before Rigma's Ascension, Rigma's Ascension, and After Rigma's Ascension, with significant dates charted accordingly. Rigma's Ascension, marked as either 0 RA or simply RA, signifies the formation of the Republic and the Temple of War as the state religion, while Before Rigma's Ascension holding 75 BRA, or 5,400 years from the modern day, as the Great War, along with 8.3 BRA as the beginning of the religious movement in support of Rigma being 4,600 years previous. In contrast, the 1st Kotek was founded in 0.1 ARA, or 1.2 years after the Republic was formed, while the Battle of the Green Rivers, which allowed contact with the Temple of Nature in 150 ARA, or 2,700 years prior to the modern day. As noted, the Dating System sets 12 standard years as 1 year under the System, with 375 ARA signifying 4,500 years after the Republic's foundation.
6. Aegelse dan-Myratnis - Considered the most important role in the Kyran Forces, the Aegelse dan-Myratnis, or Shards of the Mother, are field doctors holding substantial healing and water powers used to assist the wounded and dying on the battleground. Unlike the savage Aven dan-Rigma, the Aegelse are wholly human and are not afflicted with the various mental disorders common in the Aven. The Aegelse do face a high chance of death in battle due to their status, along with them being attached to Aven units in an effort to rein them in from their berserker rampages, even at the risk of being killed by their charges. Unlike most units, the Aegelse wield only a buckler shield, a stiletto to deliver a coup de grâce for dying soldiers, and sand bombs as a bluff tactic against the enemy.
7. Ax-fall - The colloquial term for earthquakes, the name is steeped from the Tekkan mythology concerning the battle between Rigma and Vatardan, the second god of the pantheon and older son of Kreigsadar. During the battle in Western Kyras, both gods fought and delivered massive shifts to the earth, creating mountains and canyons from their blows. The name, however, came from Rigma's finishing blow to Vatardan: having worn down Vatardan, Rigma threw one of his serrated axes at Vatardan's head before striking his legs when Vatardan instinctively ducked, wounding him before tearing Vatardan's throat out. The ax reportedly landed in Eastern Kyras, creating powerful shockwaves that signaled to Kreigsadar that he was the last of the pantheon left alive.
8. Krystan - A border settlement between the forests and the Western Sea, Krystan serves as the checkpoint for entry and exiting the Sea, with a significant number of soldiers defending the territory. While it is not a Kástro like Velran and Arbat, Krystan has significance for its strategic location, though it soon became infamous for its 7th Foot Regiment, which was the former unit of the rebel leader Atek den-Ten'saii, self-proclaimed "Champion of Rigma" and the chief force responsible for the Ten'saii War.
9. Tidfadl River - A eastern-lying river, the Tidfadl is the seventh of 13 Kyran rivers surrounding the Kreigsfalden, with its delta being the location of Kástro Ronan, significant for housing the armored cog known as the "Fog Splitter" and the 13th Mariner Company, both famous for their actions in the War of the Two Councils and the War of the Grey Ravens, being a significant contributor to the collapse of both rival governments.
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Post by Percyton on May 5, 2018 21:53:05 GMT -5
Village of Sudriey Meadows, Harron Island, Dual Kingdom of the Isles
King Godred The mysterious earthquake that occurred a little over a week ago had quite literally rocked the Dual Kingdom. While strong and solid construction had ensured most of the major structures in the big cities were spared from significant destruction, the smaller and more isolated villages weren’t so lucky. Whole towns had been reduced to rubble, burying people inside their own homes. Shops, temples, and local government buildings were all destroyed in the countryside areas, with the quake being indiscriminate: rich and poor, pious and heretics, human and Locomati were all affected.
This was the scene King Godred Crovan encountered when he toured the village of Sudriey Meadows, located on a small island near the tip of the Dual Kingdom. Against the counsel of his advisers, the King and a small entourage went out into the countryside to survey the damage and assist in rebuilding. Grand Duke Thomas of the Locomati sent a message saying he intended to join King Godred and to help his efforts as soon as possible.
King Godred wandered the village with his entourage, absolutely gobsmacked by the devastation he saw. “Good Myratnis,” the monarch said quietly. “I don’t think I’ve seen anything like this in my whole reign.”
One of Godred’s retinue, a man who had previously served under Erland and Paul before switching his allegiance, spoke up. “I don’t remember anything like this either. Erland and Paul never suffered such a misfortune. If this is divine punishment, Erland and Paul were far more worthy of it than you, my lord.”
“Let us not talk of the cause of this tragedy,” Godred replied. “Let us concentrate on the task at hand.” Godred squinted his eyes and looked ahead. “I think I see something.” The group came closer, spotting what looked to be a hand sticking out from the rubble of a building. Standing near the hand, trying desperately to free it from the rubble, was Grand Duke Thomas, who also had his own small entourage.
“Godred!” Thomas exclaimed when he saw the Dual king. “I’m glad you’re here! Help me remove this rubble so I can free this man!” Godred and his entourage quickly worked together to remove as much rubble as they could, until Godred and Thomas were able to pull the man out. Godred checked the man’s pulse.
“He’s gone,” Godred said mournfully. He and the others bowed their heads in respect for a minute. Then Godred, Thomas, and one of Thomas’ aides carried the body to the village central square. They lined the body up with the others, each one awaiting identification and proper burial by the next-of-kin.
“I’m sure he won’t be the last one we find,” Godred said sadly.
Peel Godred, Big Island, Dual Kingdom of the Isles
Burnett Stone
Wise. Mighty. Enchanter. Schemer. These were the words commonly used to describe Burnett Stone, the powerful Driver* who had served as Chief Driver** ever since King Godred Crovan’s ascension. Burnett, an older man who was recognizable by his brown jacket and his unusual lack of facial hair***, had moved from his small Locomati village to the human kingdom to spread the magic arts. Instead, Burnett was persecuted and tortured under orders by co-kings Erland and Paul, who were distrustful of Drivers and the Church. Then, Godred Crovan came ashore at Kellsthorpe, rocking the political world of the Isles. Burnett, having recently been pardoned and released from imprisonment, was one of the first men to join Godred Crovan’s retinue, serving as Godred’s chief adviser on magic and enchanting. Thus, when Godred Crovan achieved victory and declared himself King of the Isles, Burnett was the obvious choice for Chief Driver.
Burnett Stone was standing before a cauldron, experimenting with various potions and elixirs, when a shadowy figure in dark robes and a thick beard slumped into the room. “Hello, Burnett,” the figure said croakily. Burnett recognized that voice. It was the voice of Petrarch Tiberius Boomerius, otherwise known as P.T. Boomerius, or simply Boomerius.
“Hello, Boomerius,” Burnett said coldly to the crinkly figure. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Been busy with your dark sorcery?”
“It’s not dark,” Boomerius replied. “It’s Yrutas. His energy is channeled through me.” Boomerius had joined King Godred’s court nearly two years ago, and while Godred always saw Boomerius and his Yrutas magic as more of a novelty than a serious adviser, Boomerius had been quietly gaining a faction of supporters, who privately wished to see Godred removed in a favor of a king who might be more favorable to Yrutas. Burnett Stone, suspicious of Boomerius from the start, kept a close eye on the Yrutas mage, and while Boomerius never did anything to directly confirm Burnett’s suspicion, there was little doubt in the Chief Driver’s mind that Boomerius was a negative force at court.
“Yes, of course it is,” Burnett replied sarcastically. “And I’m the King of the Squidspawns.”
“Ah, Burnett. Always so snarky. Your wife’s death drained a lot of the joy out of you, didn’t it?”
Burnett looked toward a painting of his lost love on his table of potions nearby. He got teary-eyed remembering her curly, luscious brown hair, and her sweet and gentle stare when she looked into a younger Burnett’s eyes. “Don’t you dare mention her,” Burnett muttered.
“You mean Tasha?” Boomerius teased.
“DON’T YOU DARE MENTION HER NAME!” the Chief Driver shouted at the Yrutas mage. Burnett quickly regained his composure. “You wretched scum. You wouldn’t know anything of love. And the idea of loss thrills you rather than saddens you. You know nothing of what I feel.”
Boomerius chuckled. “It doesn’t take a mage of Yrutas to see I hit a nerve,” he snarled. “I’ll leave you be then.”
“Wait, why did you even come here?” Burnett asked.
“Oh, no reason,” Boomerius replied. “I just wanted to say ‘hello’.” The dark mage let out a sinister laugh as he slithered out of the room.
Later…
Later that day, Burnett Stone was still seething. In his private quarters, he said as much to Lady, a human-sized tree who had been enchanted and brought to life by Burnett shortly after Tasha’s death. Originally a replacement for his deceased wife, Burnett soon found that while Lady could never replace Tasha in his heart, Lady was still a capable assistant and valuable partner in all of Burnett’s efforts.
“That despicable fiend!” Burnett cried. “That demon! I’d like to see him ripped apart and fed to the wolves. In Aeisa'kar, so he’ll freeze to death too!”
“I know you’re upset, dear,” Lady consoled, sitting across from Burnett while he paced the floor.
“You think?”
“But you can’t let him get to you like that.”
“I have to, Lady. Boomerius isn’t just a fiend. He’s also an enemy of the state.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you see how he kisses up the King? Yet he’s constantly meeting with his fellow Yrutas mages and other seditious forces? Boomerius likes to claim he serves at the pleasure of the King, but he’s trying to depose the King. And now he’s trying to get to me, since he sees me as an obstacle to the King’s favor. I’m sure of it!”
“And what are you going to do about it?”
The Chief Driver pondered Lady’s question for a moment, then he spoke. “I shall stop him! I will dedicate myself to defeating his dastardly plans, and ensuring he never has enough influence at court to carry out his ambitions! If all goes well, Boomerius will have no choice but to admit defeat, and he will slither back to whatever Podunk village he came from in disgrace! This I promise!”
“Not so loud, dear,” Lady advised. “These doors and walls may not be as soundproof as you like.”
Burnett paused and took a deep breath. “You’re right, my dear. I can get a little too emotional sometimes.”
“I kinda like it when you’re emotional,” Lady soothed. “Shows you can vulnerable sometimes.” She got up from her seat and kissed Burnett on the cheek.
“Thank you, Lady,” Burnett said. “I always appreciate your support, and I’m going to need it now than ever.”
“You know you have it, Burnett.”
*Driver – the Locomati term for a high-level and professionally-trained magic user **Chief Driver – the leader of the Locomati and Dual Kingdom magic community ***While a clean-shaved face was common among younger Locomati, most Locomati started to grow out their beards around middle age
Ballahoo, South Locomati Island, Dual Kingdom of the Isles
Diesalion X
Diesalion of Vicarstown, tenth of his name, paced the main room of his small Ballahoo home. He thought back to the better years. When he was on top of the world, and the most feared ruler that the Northern Locomati (also known as the Vicarstown Locomati after their capital) had seen in recent history. Great wealth and power was his, and Diesalion’s subjects looked upon him with awe and terror. Just as it should be, Diesalion thought.
But then, Duke Adam and Grand Duke Thomas ruined everything. First, Duke Adam of the Southern Locomati (also known as the Norramby Locomati) allied with Godred Crovan in the latter’s attempt to gain the throne of the human kingdom. At first, Diesalion thought it a fool’s venture, and that a Locomati leader had no business interfering in the affairs of their human neighbors to the south. But then the unexpected happen: Godred Crovan not only won the throne, but he then conducted a campaign that removed his other enemies, making him the ‘King of the Isles’: ruler of all the human islands. This newly-empowered king then turned his attention north, toward the Locomati. With Adam serving as Godred’s ‘messenger’ (or ‘propagandist’, in Diesalion’s opinion) to the Locomati, the Locomati were convinced to join in a union with the humans, with Diesalion’s strident opposition being ignored.
While Diesalion saw Adam as merely a pawn of the over-mighty King Godred, Diesalion had a genuine hatred for Thomas, who was elected by the Locomati nobles as the first ‘Grand Duke of the Locomati’ after the union, marking the first time anyone could recall the Locomati being united under one leader. Thomas’ attempts to make peace with Diesalion and turn him into a loyal vassal king failed, and that, combined with Diesalion’s corrupt and tyrannical rule over the Northern Locomati, resulted in Grand Duke Thomas removing Diesalion from his position. Thomas subsequently exiled the Northern Locomati leader to the new Locomati capital at Ballahoo, so that Thomas’ secret police could keep a close eye on the deposed duke. It was an embarrassing fate for someone as powerful as Diesalion for sure, but it was not the end. Diesalion was a crafty one, and he knew there were still endless opportunities if he could just escape his de facto house arrest and the ever-present eye of security forces.
Diesalion had a plan. He was going to change his position. He was going to escape his imprisonment, start over somewhere new. He set his plan into motion that afternoon. He peeked his head out the door, where two guards were standing on patrol. “Just lying down for a little nap,” Diesalion said to them. “I’m a bit of a heavy sleeper, so don’t be surprised if I sleep through some stuff.” Diesalion chuckled a bit, both to show casualness to the guards, and to himself at his devious plan.
“Of course,” said one of the guards. “Thank you for the heads-up.”
“My pleasure,” Diesalion said with a smirk, as he went back inside.
Diesalion then went into a back room of the house, and pulled out a scarecrow dummy of straw and clothing that he had made over the past few weeks. Ostensibly, Diesalion had made the scarecrow for an old friend, and while the guards did make sure the scarecrow got to the old friend, the friend then gave the scarecrow back, hidden in a large sack of potatoes that were supposedly a thank-you for the scarecrow. Diesalion put his scarecrow body double in the bed, and even muttered a pre-sleep prayer to Myratnis to further the illusion.
After the bed ruse was set up, Diesalion sneaked over to his fireplace. Having put out the fire an hour ago, Diesalion removed the logs and took away the vent under the logs, revealing a hidden tunnel. The guards had let Diesalion have a shovel for gardening and to clean out the fireplace, and since many Ballahoo homes already had vents under the fireplace where ash could fall through, all Diesalion had to do was use the shovel to expand the pit beneath the vent and dig a makeshift tunnel for a short distance. Donning a black cloak for extra disguise, Diesalion grabbed his shovel and went into the tunnel, which by then was approximately ¾ completed. Diesalion then dug a little further, past the garden behind his house, until popping out of an unpaved alley.
“Flawless execution,” Diesalion whispered to himself. “My ancestors would be proud.” Diesalion than walked into the night, heading north. With that, Diesalion X’s comeback went into motion.
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Post by Andromitus on May 6, 2018 12:03:26 GMT -5
Yuln, Ixthenpijn
The morass of black-red flesh collapsed into the water, 6 legs floundering to get a hold of solid ground. It’s head, split four ways like a flower, bellowed out a roar as the gaping hole in the gate widened, the damned forces of Yrutas rushing forward. Chopped water began to burst forward from cracks in the gate before the lower-mid section burst seconds later, black, chopped waves rushing forward, the snake-like necks of the first creatures to arrive just visible beneath the waves. The Black Horde had arrived. They were lined across the bay, some having marched in weeks ago, others having just arrived in the early-cycle — almost 6,600 in total. Heavily armed, the first of many Warrior-Caste Independencies from the Pre-Frontier thaur —Ixthenpijn, Tzypet, Zykaumin, Yrahn, Vomāurefn— standing at the ready, a line of Bronze-Steel Kotchn’malyixt, Firebreathers, alongside a row of Salt and Oil Casters, conscripted Bowmen, and another 4,000 Light Conscripts all too prepared to die for their country. Hundreds of boats in the bay and Canals surrounding the small port-city of Yuln began to aim their armaments, waiting for the order to fire. A sound like thunder cracked through the cavern as as the first barrage came hurtling onto the enemy, Oilcasters —a catapult like structure— launched their loads in a wide-range attack on the the opening in the Gate; The row of canon-like Firebreathers buckled under the stress of their own munitions firing. Their was a moment of wait, then water across the bay erupted, pellets of Steel sliding through the hides of the smaller creatures, the larger Red-Horror buckling after the barrage. Before the enemy could even respond the gap in the Thaur-Gate erupted into fire, lines blue and red flames ran across the waves, the long-necked creatures began to scream their famous blood curdling scream, tumbling, burning, over the corpses of their fallen comrades as the first barrage of Asilic War-Alchemy was truly put to the test after 200 years of misuse. The burning water sloshed again as the Red Horror stabilized itself, its head splitting like a flower as it bellowed through the inferno. It’s once smooth back began to shape, long spines puncturing forward, vibrating. Flashes of colored light flew along its lower back, snapping across the spines before a sound like distant cry shattered all other noise, and arcs of purple lighting returned fire on Yuln.
Volthazaan, Arcthaur
• • • • • • • • One Week Later • • • • • • • •
The clashed voices of the Curate echoed from the white-stone amphitheater, although the wide gardens surrounding it did well to muffle the sound with that of running water and the soft sounds of fauna; the sweet aroma of the gardens mixing with that of the smell of burning alms from the brazier in the center of the structure. “I’m calling order,” the stern voice of the Lawspeaker called out over the other Curate members, “I will remind all of you that, regardless of their being an Ahnsijn or not, none of you have the right to disobey the custom and law of this house,” there was slight mumbling of discontent from the riled-up Priests, “now, from what I understand we have received as series of messages regarding our exploits and orders produced at our first meeting a month ago.” The law speaker gestured toward a small man opposing him at the archway into the meeting hall, “speak.” The man cleared his through,”Y-yes, theres word from the surface settlements, Akt’azall and Ibur’natehp, several tons of metals, spices, unrefined alchemical ingredients, and other goods were seized from outsiders using the cities interior as a storage basin. We’ve yet to receive word from the other Cities but we can assume a similar event has taken place and…” He was cut short by the raised hand of a priest to his right. “Are we not under siege boy?! What of the south?” the woman yelled The boy stood stunned for a second before recompiling himself, “Er-yes, I was about to get to that. From what we know the first expedition sent has failed, and secondary forced was dispatched before word of that reached the Ixthenpjin governance. We believe that a counterattack is going on as we speak, but no word from the front has reached Ixthenpijn yet.” There was mumbling throughout the building, this was bad news in deed; a failed offensive followed by a counterattack? “A counterattack in the south?” the Lawspeaker spoke hesitantly. “Yes, they know little of their enemy though; strange black substance clogs their water, and a sickness has reached Ixthenpijn…” Voices mumbled no longer and began to shout questions, “Sickness? What Sickness? What are they doing about this aquatic attack? Is the region still stable?” “Silence!” The lawspeaker bellowed, if she kept this up her voice would get hoarse. “Boy,” she leaned forward in her seat,”What are they trying against the substance in the water?” “Their efforts have been limited…They’re trying to burn it.” A shocked silence prevailed this time as several Curators leant back, stunned. “And no word from our surface operation.” the Lawspeaker spoke with a sight; her first month in control was proving grim. “Was there not word from the southern settlements?” A lone priest spoke out, “I mean, have we not received word from the Surface-City of Shzahkt? What of their exploits.” “Oh, w-well,” the messenger began shuffling through different scrolls for the report,”yes they did; their most recent message wasn’t regarding the edict thought, I believe that has only recently reached them within the past few days; but the Shzahkt Settlement claims to have received an Ambassador from a surface-nation known as… Veshus?” Mumbling again broke out through the Curate, Veshus? “The Governance reported that this stranger’s land held some belief in God, yet..” “It is of no importance.” The lawspeaker stated flatly, “No surfaceworld can understand the word, and their efforts to supplant what the don’t understand is insult enough. Regardless, word of the Edict should be reaching the southern territories as we speak. We won’t have to worry about an ‘Ambassador from Veshus’, for much longer.”
Scribe-hall, Shzahkt
The three of them had been discussing for almost an hour since then; the Priest continuing to ask this strange outsider a barrage of questions. Where was his homeland? How did they follow their faiths edicts? What could they offer in a fight against Yrutas? The mans questions ran endlessly, each answer leading to another barrage only interrupted slightly by the growing clamor of metal and voices outside. They continued onward, the Priest pestering the Ambassador for more information, quickly becoming enthralled with this strange land abroad. He was cut short by a slight knock on the door. The sound of clanging metal and voices outside had become much louder, and the Priest glared at the girl beside the Ambassador, the Scrawl he’d met first, motioning to see what was going on outside. She had left for only a moment, clenched teeth ready to less-than-politely inform whoever the most rude of people outside as to what was transgressing within the small room. The sound of a sliding door opening, the sound of screams then catching the attention of everyone else in the room, the Priest and Scribe looking confused and anxious toward the door. But it wasn’t the Asilic tongue that now rang on the Veritious Ambassador’s ear; it was much more guttural and even slurred. Pleading, crying in surprise and anger. The scrawl rushed back in, her face grave and spoke quickly too the Priest and Scribe. Both of their faces paled. The Scribe told the foreigner to wait there before both of them moved toward whoever was standing outside. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • When the Priest reached the doorway he was greeted with 4 Soldiers, saluting him; behind them he could barely understand whatever chaos had taken the city. “What is,” he started with a growl, “ the meaning of this!” His voice raced and the guards stiffened. “They say they bring word from…” scrawl started to explain before a single hand motion silenced her. “Speak.” the Priest said, anger burning in his eyes. One of the soldiers pulled out a parchment and the Priests anger vanished as he saw the insignia on it. A message from the Curate? • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • Neither three of the Asil returned, instead they were quickly replaced with four guardsmen, fully armored with a mix of what looked like enlarged Chitin and Steel. Four of them marched into the room; two moved forward, grabbing Insignas’s arm and pulled him, dragged really, toward the entrance before he could even say a word. They barked at him to grab his shoes before he was marched, dazed and confused into the city. The original entourage was nowhere to be found as he exited, but the sight that greeted him only added to his confusion. It was like the city was at war with itself, Soldiers breaking down thin fibrous and metal doors, dark-red skinned peoples he’d seen outside and in trade with their blue-skinned counterparts were being dragged, like him toward the exit. Cries of surprise and anger rang bereft of answers as crates of spices and other substances were set alight in ever expanding bonfires. He was marched and jolted toward the entrance, the barking orders of other soldiers attempting to drive these red-skinned peoples in a long line out of the city audible over the assorted cries of protest, fear, and anger. Trying to even get a semblance of what was going he craned his neck back seeing one of the men shove a Guard in retaliation. The man was standing only for a moment before he was grabbed out of the crowed and shoved to the ground, Insignas saw the Guard in question raising his Khapēz, a sickle-sword, before his arm was grabbed by one of the soldiers forcing him toward the entrance.
Kahmpet, Kfam’brum Thaur, Vitesk River
• • • • • • • • One Week Prior, Kyran-Asilic Border • • • • • • • •
They were serious this time, Dijn thought to herself. Warm air circulated around her as she stepped out onto the balcony, Chitin-Steel armor clinking with every step, 6 other Warrior-Caste accompanying her out. Ever since word from the Curate had reached them, the entire Border guard had been on alert. The cavern here was thin, cramped even; a low water level meant that canals had to be dug through the rocky marsh of an underriver. In fact, could it even be called a river? The region as a whole was marshland, highly acidic, and barely anything could grow this far north. Dijn stood along the rim of the balcony, a wide guard-tower carved into the right-hand wall of the cavern. behind her, the rest of the Fortress stood, carved and built as to block any unwanted visitors from trying to pass. It’s metal gates glinting slightly in the low bio-light coming from the Canal — even the river itself up here barely produced enough light to see; instead, it was supplanted with a series of Braziers and intensive use of Veimarran echolocation. She looked around suddenly why was the…the ground began to shake with a fury. The first tremor subsided before a second, third, and fourth one hit; collapsing to the ground the world around her spun. The stones began to crack above her; Cave-in. “Run! Get inside! Cave-in!” She yelled to the other Warrior-Caste that’d just came out alongside her. All 6 of them clambering into the stone structure, hoping the familiar Asilic architecture could ride out the devastation. The group of them held there for several moments, disoriented, before the tremor finally subsided and the group of them dared to step back outside. From their vantage the situation was bad all around, parts of their structure had suffered damage, the roadway was completely shattered, and large boulders and fallen into the canal blocking passage; so not all bad, it certainly made upholding the Iylmirix —Closed-Country— Edict that much easier. “Send word back to Kahmpet, we need a team out here now!” A voice, the commander, began barking orders to them. They had to regain control of the situation. “Dijn, Iylder, Kayhan, Tūhm, head upriver, see the damage of the forward structures. Without waiting for a response the General turned back around to assess the situation and the three of them got to work. Going through the fort, more of a glorified guard-tower, they reached the patches of broken cobblestone and dirt that was the remnants of the pathway. Running parallel to the Canal, they began to make there way up; if the Forward most towers were damaged…hmph she’d have to rescind her comment about an easier job earlier. Continuing up the broken path, she was relieved to find the guard tower still intact. it’s entrance was block with rubble however, then she saw it. Rubble had fallen on the forward most gateway; leaving the entire fortress interior open. “Tūhm or Kayhan, go send word back to the General that the forward most gateway has been compromised, everything else seems intact.” Dijn started, Tūhm nodded his head and started heading back. With that, the remaining three went into the guard tower, going through the motions of checks, observing structural integrity, damage, stores. Perfect timing for a Cave-In, right during the switching of the Guards. Continuing too like around, she heard shouting from the Level above her. Rushing up, she saw what Iylder was pointing at. Several dark shapes were moving along the marshland beyond the ruined Gate. She swore, outsiders, just what they need “Iylder, you stay here, prepare to light the braziers; Kayahn!” she yelled down, the Warrior in question rushing up to meet her, “Come with me, we’re the forward line now. The two of them took their steps out, reaching the now broken forward gate right as the group of people reached them Hailing them, Dijn moved over, hoping she knew enough of whatever these people spoke to tell them to turn back.
Jodenhaur, Ixthenpijn
The bronze gates buckled with a crack as the the rock swung down again; out of the way and relatively unseen in a thin corridor running laterally to the rest of the Artisan District that was built along the central canal that cut through the city. Alzeih swung again, hard, the sound of stone-on-metal crackling through the air; the cries in the distance keeping her alert. She swung again; and again; and again, each swing breaking the gates lock closer and closer to…The locking mechanism shattered and the gate swung open. Starting off with in a sprint, she started to head toward the main road, the huge, rectangular buildings of the inner-city towered over her faded red, green, and yellow styles giving them a feeling of dominance and serenity. The sound of people were the first to gain her attention as she turned onto the main road; it was a sea of people, hundreds of not thousands packed together. A boom echoed through the chamber and all of them look west, outside the city. There was another boom, the ground shaking with each impact, before she realized it wasn’t an impact. The entire world around her rocked with a fury, the sound of collapsing air-bubbles streaming out of crevices in the cavern walls deafened everything else, the land around them only shaking stronger. Collapsing to her knees, she managed to open her eyes west as another boom broke through the sound of screeching air and in the distance she saw it. A single line of black in the pale white structure, like a curtain draped over the cavern’s side — the Thaur Gate was cracked. As the tremor subsided some people managed to get back on their feet. There was another boom, several people crying out as they saw the impossible. Within moments a mid-section of the Gate burst forward, a dark morass in the distance crashing out. Moments later, the lower section burst as well, forming a cracked arch in the once-grand structure. She took a step back in shot before the sounds of explosions and surprised screams ripped her from her thoughts; the distant opening flashed with light as she could only assume the Warrior-Caste began their assault on Yrutas’s Black Horde, and a wall of fire climbed up the shattered Gate. With the sound of horns she looked back to the main street in front of her, guardsmen were starting to break up the crowd, ordering all of them to evacuate toward the Eastern edge of the city. She heard the sound of footsteps behind her, “Out of the way girl,” a man growled, a group of what she could consider mid-caste pushed her aside followed by Guardsmen, who ordered her to move with the rest of the group. Turning right onto the main road, a screaming in the distance caught her attention. Surprised she world around, a flash of blinding purple arched in the distance. There were more screams, this time from the people around her, accompanying the sound of a devilish crackling in the distance, like static. From there it was a whirl of activity, a stream of thousands marching end-to-end through the streets of Jodenhaur, the groans of war, sounds of fire and static, growing louder in the distance. Flashes of red and purple hounded them as some broke into a run before they finally reached the edge of the city, only to be accompanied by another sound of cracking, the Southern Gate, one of each size and stature to the Western, was closing in the distance, thus leaving only the Eastern open for their escape. “That’s why they brought us this far,” Alzeih thought in horror, “They’re evacuating the Thaur!” The sound of water on her right caught her attention, the group had reached the edge of Jodenhaur, running along the main road parallel to one of the larger Canals; above the echoing sounds of combat, and the surprised yelps of children, the water had elevated and was rushing white as if someone had dropped boulders into it. A single line of black broke through the waves before the yelps of children turned into screams. The entire side of the Canal exploded as dark, whip-like shapes broke through the water, vertical maw trapping people in vice-like grips before dragging them into the waves. Formation broke, Soldiers moved to the right to combat the enemy, and people began to break into a run. Allzeit was nocked left, breaking stride; losing her balance she tumbled into the rushing of the crowd several people knocking her down before one desperate man simply kicked her to the side to escape the slaughter. Her ears went deaf from some high-pitched scream, was it the beasts, was she delirious. She tried to stand before she was again knocked to the side, her ankle catching the side of the road and she fell to the side; letting out a slight yelp she tumbled down the hill opposite the pathway. Dazed and confused she tried to stand, tumbling on who knows what direction, only one thought burned in her mind. Run. Her hands grappled a boulder, reaching out onto the limbs of the Xychept grove —A tree-like Lichen harvested for its fibers— now enveloping her. Her feet touched water and she collapsed, soaking into a thin stream lined with spongy earth. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • She lay still for a moment, trying to orient herself, the warm water engulfing her for only a moment before she sat up to try and gauge where she was. Trying to stand, she slipped, grasping at the water before finally realizing her surroundings. She was surrounded by Xychept, was this the…Eastern Farming Region? If so then this wasn’t a stream, it was a overflooded irrigation canal; and she was already close to her destination. Trying to stand again, she took a deep breath to steady herself, her hands raked along her scalp —Clean shaven, as Lower-Caste were forbidden from dawning hair. Stepping onto the spongy ground, she craned her neck to see which direction was South, if nothing else she had to reach the Gate, to get out before the battle expanded, or worse. There! In the distance, the grand Ihlmekt —The Diamond symbol found throughout Asil and on its banner— glinted powerfully, easily betraying the location of the Gate. With a breath in, she set off with a slight prayer. With any luck, and God on her side, she’d make it, that was for certain She broke into a sprint, tripping several times over the difficult terrain, the white stones of the Gate glimmering, just out of reach. A loud crack echoed throughout the cavern and she froze. A second crack, then accompanied by an all to familiar sound, the screeching of metal-rimming. No. No they can’t close it. Her mind panicked, she was still in here they couldn’t leave her! She started to run again, she could still make it! She had to! The ground began to get more difficult, circular, 6-toed prints in the ground made it difficult to run. What in Gods name could’ve made them? Gah! There was no time to worry about that! A glinting caught her attention before she collapsed to the ground, whirling around her eyes widened. Her foot was caught, tangled by a strange glinting shape. It was a Soldier, her breastplate shorn off, her corpse practically disemboweled. She clasped her hand to her mouth before letting out a scream. She breathed in, shaking, trying to free her leg before she froze. She glanced to her right, nothing. So, then, what was making that shadow? Her eyes slowly turned left and she saw it; black scales. Four, three jointed, 6-toed legs; a thick, squat, barrel like body; a downward curving tale; But it’s neck was thin and long; headless. Her breathing quickened, was this how she was going to go? “God. Please.” The beasts neck arched above the tree-line; releasing a bloodcurdling scream. She instinctually clasped her ears, curling over in shock. The Creatures neck whipped around toward her, the top splitting vertically, rows of hooked teeth spreading out like fingers. It screamed again, and lunged down, snake-like and with lighting speed. She rolled forward, the wind behind her growing razor-sharp. In her panic she freed her leg from the corpse and bolted forward, hand grappling at one of the Xychept stalks, whirling her around as the beast struck again, hissing violently, looking for its prey. Crouching down Alzeih began to move left, the beast stepping forward, it’s thick body hanging directly over the Soldiers corpse. Thats when she saw it. A thin, curved blade, a sickle-sword; the Soldiers unsheathed Khapez. Leap of faith, she thought too herself, circling left. She stayed low to the ground, using the floral cover to hide her location; the creature screamed again, furious at it’s missed meal. Leap of faith. Now in position she froze again, eyes on the Khapez, on the base of the creatures neck. Leap of faith. Leap. Of. Faith! She bolted forward, breaking into a sprint, wet feet gripping at the soft soil beneath her. She kept her head low, the creatures neck whipping down, missing her by a quarter of a second. Shouts in the distance made her stumble but she kept pushing, arm stretching out. She rolled to a stop, hand grasping the swords hilt; the clomp of boots growing nearer. Her arm arched up, steel touched flesh, and with all her might and weight, she pulled the blade across, it’s hooked edge catching the shape of the beasts neck, and flung herself forward, the blade following suit. She continued to roll forward before spinning around, the beasts severed neck collapsing to the ground. Patches of purple, blood perhaps, covered her body. Standing up, she tried to steady her breathing before the sound of voices made her turn around. 6 people came into view, Soldiers, 2 were wielding bows, 2 thick, saber like blades and shields, and 2 wielded Khapez like the one she held. One of them, his headpiece marking him as the leader, froze when he saw her. A hand motion and his comrades stopped; He sheathed his Khapez and began to move toward her, slowly. “Did-did you do this?” He asked hesitantly; his accent showed he was from somewhere south of Ixthenpijn, Tzypet perhaps; The shapes of other soldiers began to stream into view behind him, 15 maybe? 20? Azleih glanced down at her arm, the Khapez glinting reddish-purple with the beasts blood. “Yes.”
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Post by Lex Caledonia on May 7, 2018 8:29:08 GMT -5
King Blair de Brus, Yola's Landing - Aeisa'kar
Blair stood at the head of a massive round birch table. Draped over the sizeable surface was a linen cover, emblazoned with the white lion of Lexidus, orientated to greet face to face who ever would open the grand doors leading into the room. The King stood stiffly as he rubbed his hands anxiously, waiting for his guests to walk through the grand fort doors in front of him and the table. Royal staff prepared parchment and documents for the encroaching meeting, at each 90 degree angle of the table were seats to accommodate the Titenfiscans, Fyllians and the Aeisa'kar. Cracking his knuckles, Blair noticed distant chattering and mumbling emanating from behind the grand doors, it was almost time. Time to end this war and ensure peace in the Northern Realms for good. Taking a deep breathe, Blair put on his best smile and motioned for his staff to open the doors to his guests. The doors in question, despite their considerable size and stature, swung open with ease and barely any noise. The congregation entering the room was certainly a sizeable and diverse one, that was for sure.
The Fyllian ambassador and his guard entered with nary a word and took their place to the right of Blair. The familiar face of Helena and her diverse entourage brought great calm to the king as they sat in front of him, Blair giving an affable nod to the prime minister. Then there was the Asakorian... wait no Aeisakarian representatives, whom sat to Blair's left, the organisers had the sensible idea of keeping the Aeisa'karians and Fyllians out of arms reach. Raising his arms in greeting Blair stood before them all. "Northerners! What a pleasure it is to see you all here today. As you are all surely aware, you have been called here to sign the Treaty of Yola, which will end the hostilities between our nations." Lowering his arms, Blair made sure to not linger on the Aeisakarians and to instead jump his gaze to each of his guests equally. "This will serve to make the agreements between our nations official, such as the ceasing of military operations on Aeisakar and the annexation of Yola's Landing to Lexidus." A servant holding a pristine white piece of parchment, with countless words inscribed upon it, made their way around the table awaiting a signature from each respective party. "Before we continue onto the more pressing matter at hand, if anyone would like to speak and or declare anything, you may certainly do so now."
Crowley Pentagress, Camelon Castle - Lexidus
The old Royal Steward was experiencing deja-vu. The child had barely touched her supper and not spoken a word since Blair left. He remembered a young royal lad who would barely talk and sit silently as he ate at the table, raising that boy was a pain but at least he grew up to be a damn good king. With the girl sat beside him however, Crowley began to dread the thought that he would have to now try and raise this one too.
"Leana honey. If you're not hungry you can be excused." To the right of the mousy girl was Eimear, speaking gently to the nervous princess as she patted her head. The girl responded by leaving the table in a rush, with her head down. Eimear could only sigh as the girl made her way back to her room swiftly, a distant door slam echoing throughout the quiet castle residence wing.
Crowley rubbed his face and groaned, his old age feeling more apparent to him now than ever. "Goddess above, what do you think is wrong with her now?"
Eimear's face was furrowed in a mixture of frustration and sympathy. "If her stories are anything to go by, she's been through hell from birth. A girl born underground in the web of tunnels between the ruins of the undercities? A girl who, somehow is the granddaughter of an ancient Lexidun king? A girl who's also being hunted and fled through a battlefield just to escape from her pursuers?"
Crowley scoffed and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Allegedly. It is a very good story."
Eimear frowned at him. "There's nothing alleged about the jewel though old man. That jewel IS the missing piece from Petre the Eternal's crown."
The Royal Steward turned her and raised an eyebrow. "True, the jewel is important and how this little one obtained it is curious. It however does not prove that she is this alleged heir of a person who would have, at best, died hundreds upon hundreds of years ago."
The Royal Ambassador in turn crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, refusing to lift her gaze from Crowley's. "We'll see about that when the Mages of Myrtanis show up tomorrow to see if her bloodline truly is that of Lexidus. In the mean time, you need to humour this and prepare for the ramifications this could have for us all if she truly is royalty."
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Post by Lex Caledonia on May 10, 2018 8:04:04 GMT -5
King Blair de Brus, Yola's Landing - Aeisa'karThe silence was palpable, the ambassadors and representatives sat at their respective positions and uttered nothing, scribbling their signatures into the treaty being passed around. As the large piece of parchment made its way to Blair, he signed it with a the typical flair, the grip of the quill and the stroke imbued upon him from a young age. He had Crowley to thank for that. Handing the signed treaty to the servant to his left, a great blue seal with the mark of Lexidus was stamped on the right hand corner of the pale white document. The war was officially over. A small clapping of hands erupted from the Lexidun side, followed by others from the other sides, Blair sat down and leaned forward whilst cupping his hands. "...Right, so now onto the previously mentioned pressing matter." Speaking clearly and staunchly King Blair de Brus' voice echoed across the chamber. "I sit here before you all today with an opportunity. As you are all, no doubt, aware... we are a peaceful realm us Northerners. We sat in our homes and galloped across our lands with nary a worry for the other states around us; instead focusing inwards and feeling safe and stable. However, with stability comes confidence, to which comes ambition. High Master Mar'ar betrayed Asakor and thus betrayed peace in the realm. Despite its brief length, the Cold War plunged our nations into war, our peace gone." Blair stopped and scanned the people before him, his stalwart gaze meeting the eyes of all those before him. "This peace has now returned but now, we must ensure that peace. That is why I stand before you today. I propose an alliance between the 4 of our nations. The Northern Alliance. This will be a semi-political and military alliance of which will secure peace in the Northern Realms. This alliance will allow for heavily reduced tariffs in trade between our nations, open borders for travel, the opportunity for workers to work where they please and military collaboration between our countries if the Northern Realms were ever threatened from foreign influence or aggression." Blair paused to catch his breath and continued to scan the room, holding the gaze of the main representatives before him. "You will each appoint or elect a representative of what is to be known as the Northern Council, there our nations will discuss Northern Realm matters and take action when needed. However, I must state emphatically, your rulers and leaders can make the final decisions if need be. This council will take no power away from the head or heads of government, merely guide them and help them make the right decision." As Blair spoke, a flag was placed upon the table before them, a sea of blue covering the albino lion below it. "This will be the flag and banner of the alliance." Blair nodded and smiled at Helena. "The flag was designed by a commissioned squidspawn, their work was sublime. Blair stood up and raised his hand. "Those of you before us today, raise yourself, your hand and proclaim AYE if you would be a part of this alliance." Eimear Nola, Camelon Castle - Lexidus
The girl was shaking slightly, her frilly blue and white dress was ill fitting, she was malnourished and infirm; her tartan rags having been discarded for something more befitting of a potential princess. Eimear held her hand, Leanabh held back limply, her head looking down at all times. Her mousy face had been cleaned of dirt and her greasy dark blonde hair washed, tied into a bun. She looked extremely uncomfortable and scared, Eimear couldn't do anything but feel sorry for her. An arch-mage from the Mages of Myratnis had come and drawn blood from the girl, a pin prick on her finger, it was quick and the girl barely reacted. Despite her shivers and awkwardness, she was tougher than she looked, mused Eimear. The arch-mage would compare the blood to that of another royal in the Lexidus line. For this test, they would use the Death Cloth of Yola II, a rag which was placed over the bloodied face of Queen Yola II after she fell at the Siege of Selkirk hundreds of years ago. The arch-mage would cast a spell that would compare the two blood samples, if a glowing aura emerged around the sample, it was royal blood. Blood of the descendants of Lexidus himself. Eimear tapped her foot impatiently, they had been sat in an adjacent room for over 5 minutes now, what was taking so long? Letting go of Leana's hand she opened the door leading into the other room where the test was being performed. Suddenly, a bright light bled out from the room, basking Eimear in such a violent white glow that she had to shield her eyes. The arch-mage staring, wide-eyed into the shining aura, unblinking as he turned towards the door. Eimear retreated a few steps back and turned towards Leana as the arch-mage made his way into their room, closing the door behind them and shielding them from the light. His eyes unblinking, he prostrated himself towards Leanabh, mumbling and babbling to himself. Eimear in astonishment looked at Leana, the girl tilted her head up and gave a small, sheepish smile. Ruby Hollins, Redan Port - Lexidus
The deckhands were all aboard, another thing to check off the list. Supplies? Check. Instruments? Check. Mages? Check. Spare parts? Check. Personal belongings? Check, check and check! The Kilted Hare was ready for the expedition ahead, the 10 island plan was ready to be enacted. Ruby Hollins, recently promoted and chosen to be leader of the Lexidun Expeditionary Company, was ready to set sail! Mere weeks ago she was just a representative of the Merchant Association of Lexidus, the Redan division but now she was to set sail to find the Southern Passage! She made sure to bid farewell to her partner and friends, she promised them all she would return in a couple of months time. "Awrite Ruby, that you square to go aye?" proclaimed a gruff and chuckling voice, Ruby turned to meet it, clutching her checklist towards her chest. The voice belonged to Captain Kevin Andross. The finest and toughest ship captain in the Southus Sea and despite his scarred, grizzled face, an honest to god gentleman. Ruby had struggled with the Redan accent for quite some time whilst working here, she was originally from Deen, a very posh city with a prominently clear accent. She picked up the Redan dialect quickly however and could understand even the saltiest of Southus sailors. "Correct! That's us all ready to set sail captain, let us make haste south to our first island!" Ruby proclaimed with bubbling enthusiasm. Captain Andross gave a bow and went towards bridge, yelling at the top of his lungs. "SET SAIL BOYS AND GIRLS, WE'RE AFF. LETS FIND THIS PASSAGE, FOR THE KING, FOR LEXIDUS!" A cheer erupted from the crew, to which even Ruby couldn't help but cheer along with. The Kilted Hare sailed briskly away from the city of Redan's port. Sailing off down south into the beckoning unknown. Attachments:
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Post by Flynnvakia on May 10, 2018 10:55:23 GMT -5
Gierland (A city in the Fyllian Frontier)
A week after the end of the Cold War Fyllia stands shaken but not broken but at the cost of 1/5 of Fyllia's army and swathes of land pillaged by Asakor's army. A notably hard-hit city known as Gierland was reduced to near rubble from consistent bombardment. On the road leading to Gierland is Carolus VI on horseback along with his heir Carolus VII and accompanied by an attachment of Bastions of Fyllia and several companies of Fyllian troops. Carolus gazes upon Gierland with regret knowing full-well this could have been prevented had he been ready for such a war. He son was also astonished by the ruins of the once thriving settlement now reduced to a few homes and the barracks meant to protect the city. Carolus then turned to his son and said: You have witnessed my mistakes and I hope that you learn from them for I am too old now to learn from my own. I made a promise to protect this land but alas, I have failed them and all that is left for me is to rebuild what we have lost. His son nodded acknowledging the meaning of their journey to here. Just then, a hail of arrows rains upon Carolus, his son, and his men. Several men were killed instantly and many more wounded but the Bastions surrounded the King and his son and ordered the rest of the troops scan for where the arrows came from. Then, a shout and 100 - 150 men on horseback emerged from the treeline to the left of the formation and slammed into the formation killing several. During the commotion, Carolus made a rash decision to flee from combat with his son. The captain shouted: My Liege stay here! We do not know the strength of these rebels! Carolus ignored the captain's warning and with his son began their escape. In that instant, 10 arrows were shot towards Carolus and his only heir. The arrows skewered the King and his son with both dying instantly. The captain saw what happened and ordered the men to break ranks and reformed on the fallen King and ordered a few to search for the rebels but by then, they had already disappeared. Now the captain had 20 dead men, a dead heir and a dead King to deal with. The captain ordered his men: Collect the bodies, we make for Losheim. We will not stop until we reach the gates of the capital.
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Post by thevalleianorders on May 11, 2018 6:58:32 GMT -5
Book II: Circumstance Calveria Alternis RP Part One Edinginia, the Imperial Capital: The hulk that Aparaius rode on had circled the walled, island city of Edinginia. Her walls, as high as jagged cliffs and as wide as a city’s street surrounded the city. The roofs of buildings peek out from the high walls and the spires of Belfries stand in defiance against the sky and the earth that had tried to shake them down. It had taken three hours to get close enough to one of the city’s watergates; ships filled with timber and stone tried to force their way into the city. Only after the Imperial tone was played from the ships horn were they able to enter the port of the city. There goes any hope of arriving discreetly, thought Aparaius as he heard from the lower decks of the ship. The past week of journeying had passed by fast, thanks to the Communal Canal System. They had only to reach the southernmost lake of the Northern Territories to connect to this vast superhighway. It is by this network that so many settlements and metropoles of the Empire are already rebuilding at a rapid rate. “How long do you think that it will take us to fully rebuild, Gabb?” asked Aparaius. “I do certainly hope that it will be swift.” “I’d wager that at this rate, most buildings will take around eight months to a year to be repaired or rebuilt,” the Aide Gabriel replied. “But certainly, I could find a more acc-” “No need for that yet,” interrupted Aparaius. “I still need to appoint you as an advisor; don’t get ahead of yourself. The boat then thudded to a halt, having come into contact with the docks of the Imperial Capital as the two boys laughed off their conversation. They then packed up the few personal belongings they had left and started to make their way updeck. “Wait, you two!” the Grandmaster Sylias scalded as they were about to make their way up deck. “Change into these new togas.” The new togas were, in fact, new. The crimson red fabric shone bright even in the dark, for every square inch of it was embroidered with gold thread. Aparaius’s toga has three white stripes around the perimeter of his. The Grandmaster’s toga had two, and Gabriel’s had none. The three of them wore the garments of their class underneath: the crimson robe of the Prytyryt, the short tunic and trousers of the Protetyryt, and the long, belted tunic and red-striped, short, black cape of the Adyt. Over all of this, they wore red bands over their right shoulders. “Now we can make our way up deck.” the Grandmaster said, and then they made their way up the deck. The above deck of the ship was medium sized, and made of wood. The main mast of the ship was moderate in height, and was topped by the naval standard of the Empire. In fact, most of everything on that ship was of moderate design, for these ships must manage to travel on canals and on the coast efficiently. Waiting on top of the deck was the boy that had saved them, dressed also in a much more modest red toga. Underneath he wore the clothes of the commoners. During their week-long journey, the three had found out that the boy was actually on the dawn of becoming fourteen. He was a heavily malnourished Welakian teenager, a middle child of a large family of thirteen children. He had testified that his father had recently died of stroke, and that their family’s small trading firm had been struck hard and almost fell to bankruptcy. He stood there, smiling, for the Imperator Select Aparaius had chosen him to accompany him and his now forming entourage. His name was Grygorie. Grygorie said, “How do you do, your high Protetyr, your holy Prysmytr, and your, uhm, abl-” “We do fine, Gryg,” interrupted Gabriel, hating to see the boy struggle. “You needn’t call us these things right now. They are only to be said in the presence of the public.” Grygorie smiled at his new nickname. “Speaking of the public,” said Aparaius, “We ought to make our way to the citycenter before the crowds get to thick.” The quartet then looked out into the docks, which were starting to fill up with people. The docks were filled with boat and ship; the land was filled with people, a sea of red togas against the gray cobbles of the city. Piles of materials and supplies litter the dock and the city, scaffolding is rampant, and workers try to walk through the dense crowds to continue their work and peer at Aparaius, the Imperator. The four then walked off the ship, and were surrounded by two dozen guards as they slowly made their ways out of the docks, and into the great, holy, Imperial Capital of Edinginia. They walked up South Main Boulevard, one of the main eight spokes of the Central Plaza. On each side of the road were piles of rubble mixed in with standing buildings and wooden scaffolding. It had only been a week since the Great Quake, as it was styled, but many of the damaged buildings had already initiated repairs. The number of buildings that had completely crumbled were being cleared off to make space for reconstruction, and plaster, stone, mortar, nails, and wood were littered in piles on the sides of the road. Then, the entourage collided with a crowd, no, another guard! “Brother, is that you?” a voice broke through the crowd. It was Alexiana, sister to the Imperator. “Sister, could it be?” Aparaius replied. The two then promptly ran to each other an held a long embrace. “You have ought to have sent the Capital more news of your safety,” the diplomat said angrily to her brother, the Imperator. “Did you miss me?” he taunted back. “No, of course not! It’s not like you’re of upmost importance to the state,” Alexiana replied. She saw Grygorie and pointed to him, and asked, “Who’s this?” “Grygorie,” Gabriel replied, smiling at the diplomat. “Next Protetyr or Nurthshur?” she asked coldly. She promptly smiled and began to laugh after seeing the confused looks on all of their faces. “Sure, if Gabb here doesn’t get the title.” Aparaius replied as he laughed. “But seriously, we must find a title for the child that saved our lives.” “Saved your lives?” Alexiana replied, and the newly formed quintet continued to make their way up the boulevard. --------------------------
It had been three hours since they had arrived in the Capital, but that didn’t stop the coronation from happening. Aparaius wore a much more extravagant, crimson red toga, emblazoned with so much gold that the toga shone with more gold than red. He wore a red band over his left shoulder instead of his white.
Everyone else in the Palace of Colleges were also wearing the crimson red togas of the state and the red bands, but theirs were over their right shoulder. Red pervaded the room; it was everywhere. “We Submit our sword to you, great Imperator,” said the representative of the Communal See of the Calenian Order as he humbly set a ceremonial sword at the feet of the Imperator. “Take it, so that you may go forth and further the realm in the name of Life and Death, Myrat yt Decidyi,” Aparaius replied. “ Yt Concordiat,” the Communal See replied, taking the sword back, and walking away. “We Submit our dagger to you, great Imperator,” said the representative of the Communal See of the Lingenic Order as he set a ceremonial dagger at the feet of the Imperator. “Take it, so that Vytyye may be dedicated to further the realm in the name of Life and Death, Myrat yt Decidyi,” Aparaius replied. “ Yt Concordiat,” the Communal See replied, taking the dagger back, and walking away. “We Submit our coin to you, great Imperator,” said the representative of the Communal See of the Welakian Order as he humbly set ceremonial coin at the feet of the Imperator. “Take it, so that merchants may be able to go forth and further the realm in the name of Life and Death, Myrat yt Decidyi,” Aparaius replied. “ Yt Concordiat,” the Communal See replied, taking the coin back, and walking away. Such was done for every Order in the entirety of the Empire. Over 90 Orders lined up to submit themselves before the Imperator, and the Imperator sent them forth in the name of the Great Concordiat, of Vytyylysm and of Myrat yt Decidyi. Afterwards, he took a crown with nine sides, and placed it upon his own head. The crown was of pure silver imbued with 99 red Rubies that sat on its nine arches. Gems of every color were scattered amongst the 99 red Rubies, and a single Diamond hung where the nine arches joined into one. “Your Imperator, Aparaius I, the Edinginian of Nyrthshur, Elected by the Colleges, selected by the Imperator Alexios XI, Edinginian of Nyrthshur, and Blessed by Life and Death, Myrat yt Decidyi. Yt Concordiat!” “ Yt Concordiat! YT Concordiat! YT CONCORDIAT!!!”
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