New Bayheath

The colony sits on a peninsular part of the coast of Kasum, facing the continents great and uncharted jungle with the vast and equally dangerous ocean at its back and sides. It's plucky but hardworking population of ~500 are primarily human, though the occasional dwarf and elf can be seen from time to time. Facing the jungle, and stretching from one coast to the other is a wooden barricade that is almost constantly manned by the colonial militia, a small military composed of both the hired mercenaries and colonists alike. The colony is five months old, and has seen one wave of Malthese colonists since its founding. The main locations within New Bayheath are...

• The Governor General's Manor: A large building on the coast that serves as both office and private residence of the Governor General.
• The Lost Minstrel: New Bayheath's only form of recreation, a large mead hall.
• The Fields: New Bayheath's only farm is guarded 24/7 by a small coalition of its workers, as food is arguably the colony's greatest resource. The fields mainly grow wheat, which is often turned into large loaves of bread. Additionally, the colony has a small pasture populated with 20 sheep, 10 goats, and 10 cows.
• Housing: Near the farm is the colony's housing district, which consists of rows of cabins, all made from wood provided by Kasum's jungle. They typically fit two to five people each, and are of a reasonable quality.
• The Circle: In the centre of the colony is a small stage at the centre of a circular patch of dirt. Here the colonists meet at the command of the Governor General. It serves as a meeting location during times of crisis, or simply a landmark for individuals to gather at.
• Samuel's Tower: This 40ft high wooden tower rests near the colony's border, and is typically manned by a single scout.

Maps

Coming soon!

Compendium of Kasum

Encounter the natives, fauna, and flora to gain access to their details. Once details are added it is no longer meta to refer to them, as they'd be published by the Governor General for the betterment of the colony.

Mechanics

The goal of the roleplay is to turn New Bayheath into a functioning city, while simultaneously exploring Kasum. To do this, I've decided to incorporate some game-like mechanics to the roleplay. Every two months (in the roleplay), the mainland will decide whether the colony can accommodate a new shipment of migrants. If the players have successfully pushed back the jungle and colonised more of Kasum, then the population of New Bayheath will increase by 200. If however the colony retains the status quo, no new migrants will arrive. If the colony is attacked, suffers from an epidemic, or otherwise suffers, the population will decrease. Should the colony reach 0, which I doubt will happen but who knows, the roleplay will alter drastically. But let's just focus on the now.

Roleplay

The day comes to a close as the colonists pack up their tools and head to either the mead hall or their homes. The fields were partly harvested this morning, and so in celebration, light festivities have been arranged. In the mead hall, a jaunty tune plays, and even the Governor General has decided to grace the population with his presence. You currently have no duties until the colony goes to sleep. You may retire to your home, visit the mead hall, or explore New Bayheath.

Ignaescious takes a long breath after downing the third jug of mead he had today. Wiping his mouth with his handkerchief, he got up off the wooden bench and disposed of his coins on the side to be collected. Leaving the mead hall, he took a step outside and welcomed the fresh air. The weather here was . . . different. Different than home. The air around him was born of a different breed. It felt fresh. He strolled casually around the local area, taking in the beautiful view and viewing the moist air touch his skin. I should do this more often, he thought. The company of other men, Elves or Dwarves did not interest him. It was the sea that was truly calling him. Getting a good sea view, the Elf stood there for a good while, taking in the view. In the distance he could hear the odd sounds of cattle and sheep, but they were quaint and added to the atmosphere. This continent was entirely new, not tied down by the evils of the land before. He was home, now. Digging into his pocket he plucked a beautiful, red apple. It was all that was great in the world; natural, tame and with no absolutes. He bit into it. The sinking feeling of deliciousness ran through him like a preacher and his choir, singing songs of God and his grace. God. The thought made him almost gag. No, God was an insane thought, like he owned something to this omnipotent being. This apple, this sea view, the humid air, the rays of beautiful sunshine kissing his hair, was where true happiness could be found. This was home.

Tristan stretched his arms over his head as he walked, relishing in the pleasant burn in his muscles. Today had been quite eventful, what with the fields being harvested and the subsequent merry-making that was now taking place. He found it all very interesting and amusing, as he'd only ever witnessed similar events from afar before. The fields and among the commoners wasn't a place for a prince, after all. But here there were no servants, advisors or family members to tell him what he could or couldn't do, so he was enjoying this new found freedom to the fullest. Sure, he hadn't really been able to help much with the harvesting, as his knowledge of such things were few and purely theoretical, but he'd still had a good time just observing and occasionally offering to help with simpler tasks. Many gave his more expensive clothing a skeptical look, to which Tristan smiled sheepishly and gave a slight shrug. So it was with light feet and a grin on his face that Tristan entered The Lost Minstrel, intent on drinking and socializing as long as he could keep his eyes open - or until the mead hall emptied of people willing to keep him company. Whatever came first. Tristan passed an elf on his way in, but didn't pay him much mind except nodding his head once as he went by.

The atmosphere in the mead hall is one of triumph and fraternity, as men hold each other close by their sides and swing, singing old songs in celebration of the successful harvest. Dwarves, elves, and humans alike forgive past grudges and racial differences to rejoice on this evening, knowing in the back of their minds that come dawn they will all have to return to the drudgery of work. As the mead flows from keg after keg the crowd begin to clap as a small dwarven band commandeer a table as their stage. They begin a melody which all enjoy, despite the lyrics being dwarvish and difficult for the men and elves to understand. At the far end of the mead hall, on an elevated platform sits the Governor General with his loyal guard standing vigil behind him. He sips from a wooden cup and smiles as one of the band members slips off the table, causing an uproar of laughter that just about shakes the foundations of the building.

The noise was hard to ignore. Uproar, shouting in a tongue he couldn't understand. He despised Dwarves and their drinking habits. While they had come here seeking new riches, they had still kept to their old ways of being loud and disturbing. When would they learn? The Elf thundered in the mead hall, quite suspicious to see where the audacious sound had come from. A dwarf, of course, acting like a drunkard once again. He sat down not too far from the group and donned his hood, hiding his face. If things got out of hand, he would make sure that there would be no more misfortune for other residents of this quite town. Such a beautiful place, such a beautiful landscape, and they still insist on drinking indoors? Such unruly children. They will soon see the truth.

"So...let's say she had the body of an elf, the face of a human and the rack of a dwarf." "Well in which case I would have to plough her more times than you could count." This response was met with vigorous laughter from the small group of men, hunched round a small camp fire, just on the outskirts of the colony, overlooking the fields. There was a slight cling as plate slapped plate, the men's heaving stomachs being the only real noise in the desolate quiet of this new world. It was a strange contract, but a well paid one that would reap many rewards. The men hadn't been faced by too much hassle, and maintaining the borders and some police work was all they had been tasked with as of yet. Jack Sullam, Commander and Chief of the Red Coat Mercenary Company's Colonial Venture, was doing the rounds for a final time. Checking up on his posts and patrols he seemed happy with the work that had been done. Their numbers would be stretched thin is the colony expanded much further but by then he could put in a request for more men. Finally content with the security Jack decided to make his way to the mead hall. He had no plans to drink himself, it clouded his judgement, but he had to make the appearance that the company was part of the colony and not just their walls. Stepping into the crowded building he was almost suffocated by the stench of ale and smoke. It was almost too dark and rancid to maneuver in, though as his eyes adjusted he finally made his way through the labyrinth of people. Making his way to the head of the hall he stood, close enough to the governor so his presence was known but far enough away so as not to instigate any problems with the governors own guards. A strange decision to send them, the company had been clear on working with the colony. It was bad business to hold anything ulterior over an employer.

The Governor General's eyes flicked down at the man who now appeared before him. Sullam's red and silver armour contrasted him starkly against the grubby habits of the peasants who populated the tables. Setting down his cup, the Governor General crossed one leg over the other, leaning on one elbow. "It's quite a show isn't it?" he asked, his voice loud so that he might be heard over the festivities, but strangely withheld, as though refraining from expressing emotion. "You're of that company we've hired, the err.. Heavens, how have I forgotten.." he said, bringing a finger to his bottom lip in thought. Then it dawned on him. Snapping a finger, he raises his hand in the air as a gesture of realisation. "The Red Coats!" he exclaimed with a grin, noting how foolish it was of him to forget, given that Sullam's uniform provided an obvious clue.

Tristan stood by the bar, clapping along to the music and mimicking the few parts he'd caught on to - mostly the part going 'yup, yup, yup!'. But what he lacked in knowledge, he made up for in enthusiasm. The bar keeper came over with the second tankard of mead he'd ordered that night, and Tristan took a large mouthful of it before handing over a few coins. He surveyed the hall, looking for a suitable table to sit down. As he'd only been at the colony for no more than a month, and most of that time had been spent indoors unpacking, writing letters and doing all sorts of paper work, he hadn't had the time to socialize much. He squinted, spotting the Governor General himself farther into the room. Tristan had made sure to introduce himself to the man the moment he arrived, and had had the chance to talk briefly to him a few times since then. Smiling broadly, he made his way closer to the platform. When he was close enough, he rose his tankard in greeting, unaware the man was already occupied in another conversation. "A very good evening to you, Governor!", Tristan had to almost scream to be heard over music and cheering, and he had no idea if the Governor would even recognize him. Not that it really mattered; he was just being polite. He then laughs as his attention was pulled to the dwarf drunkenly crawling onto the table again, almost tipping over the other musicians in the process. In a fit of euphoria and intoxication, Tristan then climbed onto the table next to the dwarves and rose his arms in the air, spilling mead this way and that, "And a very good evening to every last one of you all fine folks!" His exclamation was met with more cheering. Oh Atal, if his father could see him now, Tristan though. Despite only being on his second tankard, he was well on his way to becoming thoroughly wasted. The fine wines he was accustomed to was nowhere near as strong as the stuff they served here.

Jack smiled and leaned in too the conversation with the governor. "Aye governor, we're the company. My men, and I, have been ordered to act towards benefiting the colony in any way we can. Right now it seems policing and monitoring borders is how we are best suited, and so thats what my men are doing." Walking over he made it so that to governor no longer had to shout or contort his body to hear. "Governor right now the company is doing just fine, however I am sure there are plans to expand and I have a number of requests to make. Firstly I wish to be present in any, and all, planning in what directions the colony should take. As well as that I wish to have your permission to make a request for more men to be sent from the company. The homeland will soon be requesting a profit of sorts and that means expansion. Expansion means more settlers and more ground to cover. I will need the men to keep the people safe. I don't want to go over your head with this which is why I am putting the request to you first."

The Governor General eyed Tristan briefly, chuckling lightly as the noble climbed onto a table and cheered, much to the huzzah of the crowd. After that lapse in focus, the Governor General's weary eyes once more landed on the Red Coat. The aged leader listened dutifully and sincerely, suggesting that despite the location, he was paying absolute attention to the suggestions of the mercenary. Once the man Jack had concluded his proposal, the Governor General took a small sip from his cup, licking his dry lips curtly. "What you suggest is very reasonable" he responded, his eyes looking over the hall for a moment before catching Jack's own gaze again. "You represent a powerful faction in this colony, and thus, I shall bid one of my guards fetch you should I ever need council regarding the position New Bayheath takes. In regards to the issue of more men, well, more are always welcome, the only real issue is whether or not we can afford to keep them. We've a few houses spare, but you are right, we need to expand, and soon. Our cartographer is currently working on drafting a plan, but until then, I say keep up the good work. Let us discuss this in the morning, enjoy yourself, Captain" the man finished, clapping the mercenary on the shoulder, giving him a jovial shake.

Jack smiled and nodded his thanks to the governor, it was a good start that the two men could hold a peaceful and reasonable conversation. The Red Coats would be influential on policy to come, he just didn't want there to be a lack of communication. Right now he wanted exactly what the governor wanted. "I'm glad we can work together on this Governor. I assure you, until the colony can maintain more men, I will not bring more in. I don't want to stretch our resources further than needed. Anyway, as you said now is the time for merriment. I am not going to drink myself, but enjoy yourself Governor." With that Jack left the governors side. Making his way over to the door he decided he would spend some time outside, just enjoying the fresh air. Before he retired for the night.

Hirion was still at work, his men he left, his assistants gone. Yet he continued planning and counting resources, this project would take more than just one work day at a time. The walls needed improvement and more house's had to be built and then he had to find time and resources to begin creating firearms. Currently he had only a few sword and three pistols in stock, however with no bullet and powder they were nothing but fancy clubs. He sighed and looked oer the workshop once more. It had been the first thing he ordered built, it was warmer and drier than the rest as it served as there weapons stockpile as well. Tomorrow he get a force up and running then he would work on clock. They could start enforcing a curfew if they could get clock with bell chime working. Lonely was the work of a genius.

While being encouraged by a few nearby villagers with cheers and whistles, Tristan downed what was left of his mead in one go. His head was spinning afterwards, and the world around him had gained a funny tilt. Turning his head, he suddenly spotted a hooded figure sitting all by their self, away from the rest of the people in the hall. Tristan frowned. That just wouldn't do! With all the grace and agility of a three legged rhino, Tristan jumped down from the table. After being steadied by a helpful woman and thanking her, he made his way over to the hooded figure. "Why, this is no time for sitting alone, my gloomy friend!" he stated, standing in front of the other, then offered his empty tankard, "Here! Drink, Drink! Or...no, wait, this's empty." Tristan frowned down into the tankard, as if noticing this for the first time. He then burst out laughing, "No matter! How'bout this; you come with me over to the bar, and I'll buy you a drink!" Tristan gestured to the bar, smiling expectantly.

One week: a new record. Chris Din's first time staying a full week out in the jungles of Kasum. He'd already landed here, on this new land for about 5 months now, and finally was he beginning to feel confident in his new surroundings; well, at least for now. Chris knew that sooner or later the weather would turn on them, and he would have to re-adapt to the forces of nature once again. The sun was setting now as he approached the outlying tower of the colony of New Bayhearth, Samuel's Tower. He saw a torch flicker as he approached. Chris waved at the scout atop the tower, and he waved back. "Glad to see you're fit and alive!" Shouted the scout. "This colony as well!" Chris shouted back. He thought he heard a chuckle as Chris strolled past the tower. He knew it was only a matter of time that the colony would need to expand. Finding resources, new places to settle, and pretty well anything useful for the colony from out in that thicket was his job here. On his back he carried a string of unnamed forest rodents. Their meat was stringy and bland, however it was the only fresh meat that they had. Otherwise, Chris carried a bow and arrow, a skinning knife, a machete, a torch, a small pack that contained his mobile shelter, his canteen, rations, rope, as well as oils for his torch. After a little while longer, Chris passed a patrolling Red Coat. "Well Chris, you've made it back from one of your adventures hum? Oh and more of those critters?", greeted the guard. "Indeed I have, Kiln. And yes, would you like one?", replied Chris with a smile on his face. "Drop one off at the wife's if you would please, of course we'll pay." Kiln waved and started to part ways when he turned around. "Ah yes, the harvest celebration is tonight! You should go! You've been here for five months already and I think you've gotten to know that damn jungle better than the people in this colony." "I'll try!" replied Chris without turning around, waving as he went. He was nearly at the town now, and he could see the torchlight outlining the buildings of New Bayhearth in the distance. Chris entered his small cabin that only he occupied. He set down his equipment in his trunk, and lit a fire and put on a kettle. After he had some hot water, he did what he could do clean himself up from his week in the wild. He put on his town garb and left for The Lost Minstrel. As he approached the tavern he could smell the alcohol, smoke, and he could feel the energy of the festivities. As much as he wanted to turn around and collapse in his bed, he marched on. As he approached the tavern he saw the leader of the Red Coats here walk out.

"I've had my fair share for today," grunted the Elf. He still kept his hood on, hiding his facial features. "A very nice offer, albeit." He felt he should say something, but that would go against everything he stood for. The mass of flesh in front of him was a slobbering, drunk mess. His bladder and metabolism could only sustain so much; he knew this, yet the man kept drinking. Disgusting. "I do have an even better offer," Ignaescious chuckled, appearing friendly. "I run a butchers' only a few moments away. You should come by." He tried to act as courteous and generous as he could, to hide his sinister intention. This babbling wreck would learn what would happen to drunkards in this beautiful, peaceful haven.

For just a second, Tristan's expression turned blank. Then, as if it had never been, it was replaced with a pout, "What, right now? But the music and all the people are here!" he protested, leaning his hip against the table, "Leaving would be a terrible shame! I'll have to save that offer for some other time. Because - no offence - I fail to see what a butchers' got to offer that's better than, well, being here." unnecessarily, he gestured to the rest of the hall where quite a few still kept up the celebrations despite the late hour, then offered the same hand to the hooded stranger, "I'm Tristan Trivillan, by the way. Pleasure to meet you, sir...?"

Jack was had a dry smile on his face as he left the tavern, however it turned into a sour frown as he spotted the 'explorer'. He had always despised the man's being here. Was it brave to pick a direction and just walk in it? No. Bravery was holding your ground, and fighting no matter what the cost. True discipline and loyalty in the face of the enemy was what made a man, not mindlessly wandering and hoping to find something of value. And yet this man seemed to have some authority and respect? Despite the fact that he hadn't once manned a post or taken a watch. Sighing he slumped down onto a small stool outside the the tavern and waited for the scout to come forward. As he did the Red Coat greeted the man. "Din! Get your arse in there, the merriment cannot begin until our most important man is in there." Jack spat down on the ground in front of the explorer. "Out of my sight Din, some of us have duties that are needed in the morning." With that Jack got up and slowly sauntered back to his bunk. He chose to bunk with his men and made sure not to wake the slumbering form of a few off duty men. The other off duties were drinking and the rest were working.

Chris watched as the Red Coat Leader trudged away into the darkness. Funnily enough that was perhaps the most pleasant encounter he had with the man yet. Usually the words of Jack Sullam stung a bit more, and was at least a couple sentences longer. Chris was even toying with the idea that he was warming up to him. Shrugging off the words of the mercenary leader he walked into the busy tavern. The singing and music was deafening. The stench of alcohol and smoke was nauseous. The taste of the air was stale. But the life. Chris loved all forms of life. The quiet, stirring life of the wilderness, the busybody everyday life in the larger cities, and even this, a rowdy crowd of almost every shape of people he had ever seen. He couldn't help but breathe in and enjoy the life, especially after his little encounter outside. Looking around the room he saw some of the notable people he knew here, namely the Governer-General, as well as the new arrival, Tristan. He was off in a corner but it was no matter to Chris. Chris didn't mind spending some time alone here, watching and soaking in the festivities. He found himself an empty stool at the bar and settled in. His feet ached as he lifted them off the floor. Ordering a pint from the bartender, he swung around and rested his elbows on the bar. Taking a sip of his mead, he watched on.

The Elf took a look at this, disgusting, man. Who did he think he was, asking his name? What right did he have to ask him his name? He only came here for one thing; to teach a lesson. A lesson is what he would teach. Ignaescious rose from the table, took off his hood, and replied, "I'm Ignaescious," he spoke clearly and kindly. The tall figure, draped in a green cloak, put forward his arm, offering a handshake.

Tristan accepted the hand, shaking it maybe slightly more vigorously than what was necessary, "Wow, that really is a mouthful! Can I call you Iggy? I think I'll call you Iggy." he nodded to himself, decision made, "Oh, and you're an elf! That's wonderful! You'now, I met an elf once...or well, I've met several, but this one in particular was really nice and had these elvish confection that was really good. They were small, like this-" he held up his hand, indicating his the size with his thumb and forefinger, "-and really sweet! D'you know of them?" A voice in the back of his head warned him that rambling like this was a clear sign that a nasty hangover was waiting for him in the morning, but as it was he ignored it. Who knew when he'd get to just relax and enjoy himself next? Life was fickle that way, after all.