Vlath had awoke from the strange dream in somewhat confused shock,what had he just experienced? A vision from the God's themselves perhaps? It had felt too real to be a mere dream, perhaps activating that obelisk had started events he could not have foreseen. What were the creatures in his vision? Deep below the sea they were, were they puppets of the Young Gods? Or fellow children of the Great Trinity of the Void? He knew not but it would be something he should address soon. As he left the area his fellow Shadowclaw had used as a resting place (naturally it was close to the first reclaimed obelisk) he ordered a handful of his more knowledgeable Shadowclaw to meet him at the shoreline at noon.
Vlath had met with Goldtooth at the very river they were to discuss some time after he had awoken from his strange dream, Goldtooth explained there options and after a brief discussion they agreed a pontoon bridge is the best course of action for the moment. Once the bridge had been established and houses built they could consider a true bridge to allow larger loads to cross at a time, for now a pontoon would suffice- shelter must be provided as soon as possible after all. After their business was concluded, Vlath reminded Goldtooth "When the lumber is across the bridge you and your workers will begin constructing houses, for all tribes. Once that is done we will consider what else we may began construction of." with that final word Vlath made his way to meet with the other Shadowclaw members at the shoreline.
The Voidcaller had arrived some time earlier than the other four Lycan, who had arrived around noon. Vlath had watched the somewhat turbulent ocean and the stormy skies- nothing his people were not used to but it felt different now. He turned to those present and said "I have had a vision. Something lurks deep beneath the waves, I do not know what but the God's have deemed it necessary I know of their existence. I have gathered you here so we may discuss the meaning of this vision and a possible solution." and so the discussion began. Initially there were many suggestions that the Gods meant it as a warning about the creatures in the ocean until one of the older of the group (Vera,one of the more scholarly of the Shadowclaw clan and being accused of heresy at various points in his life- he always seemed to be one step ahead the tribe in terms of both theological ideas and in his evasion of those who would silence him. Vlath was fond of him despite his borderline heretical ideas.) said the Gods would of told them of such threats before the journey and therefore such a point was moot. Eventually the debate turned to the idea that these creatures were pointed out to them by the Gods as potential allies, surely a strange suggestion but the only solution the group could fully agree upon.
After a further period of debate Vlath finally decided "If they are true creations of the Gods then surely they will know their divine tongue! Come, we shall speak to the oceans themselves!" while Vlath himself was not entirely convinced such an idea would work and he was merely offering a solution that would allow him to return to the camps and oversee construction soon, he was somewhat curious if these beings from the deep had some connection with the Gods. After all, why else would the Gods show them to him? The Shadowclaw behind him began to line up and shout into the stormy ocean in a language known by all lycan but only understood by the Shadowclaw, the proclaimed language of the Gods. As their voices wrestled with the sounds of the waves crashing onto the beach Vlath pondered if it would be beneficial to find a way to store the language in some way, after all he doubted even 100 lycans knew the language at this point.
After several minutes the group of lycans fell to silence and turned to Vlath. Assuming nothing happened he nodded at each of those present "I thank you for being here, the Gods will surely be pleased with your dedication. Now, I must return to Wolfhelm and assemble a group for my pilgrimage to the next pillar for it's reclamation." he said before beginning the walk back to Wulfhelm.
On his return Vlath immediately set about on preparing for his next pilgrimage, requesting a representative from each clan aswell as a small group of his own personal zealots-not true warriors in any sense of the word but individuals truly dedicated to the Gods. Vlath allowed the other leaders to function as they wish while he prepared and went on his journey north to reclaim the second obelisk.
A pontoon bridge is decided to be built to allow lumber to be transported across quickly as shelter is urgently needed Vlath meet up with a handful of what could generously be called theologians of the Shadowclaw tribe to discuss the matter of his vision. Vlath eventually deemed no solution would be found despite some intriguing ideas and proposed they speak the language of the Gods into the ocean with hope of drawing the beings attention. On return Vlath began preparing a small group to travel to the next obelisk for reclamation.
A/C Improve food/Infrastructure. The edels begin digging a new well for their town. A sourse of fresh water is always good for drinking and improving quality of life.
The tranquility of this glen was like nothing the Aedel men had ever known before and was no doubt the key reason that none of them reached for their spears or ran for their lives in the face of the giant that seemed to rule over the forest. Indeed Eric had no doubt that there was some kind of magic afoot here that made him so calm yet found himself unable to shake its warm embrace, it was as if his head was muddled with the same warm smothering brought on by a flagon of mead.
A greater surprise would follow as the songs of Waebury actually managed to find their way to Eric and his ragged band, much to the approval of this forest giant. It was in quiet awe the Aedel men watched as the berry that had seemingly cast aside in disdain became one with the earth bloomed into a fully grown bush before their very eyes. Even though it was clear that words would never serve between these two groups there was something primal and unspoken that passed between the two groups this day. A simple understanding of each other so to speak. Eric and his brave huscarls sat upon the earth as a polite audience for the musical exchange between the stagman and the distant choir. Each time the winds shifted and the voices of his people rose to find him in glorious songs of worship Eric's heart lifted in kind. Yet he could not lose himself in this artistic exchange fully for he had seen what this strange creature was capable of and marveled at the work of this magic.
And like all men Eric wondered if it would be possible for him to claim such power for himself. If he could claim the power this creature used to will the forest to his will and to grow and weave trees together as they were here he could claim an unending supply of lumber and grow as many crops as the angels would allow. It would not do for him to take this power by force - if such a thing were even possible - the deerman had opened his house to them now and they had made peace together in a strange way. A king who wished to be remembered fondly did not turn on his allies like a barbarian and Eric would see this forest made an ally to him in this new world.
Eventually it was seen that the sun was beginning to set and all knew they would have to return before night fell. Offering a bow and words of civil thanks Eric took his leave of the strange lord of the forest and joined the bear that would lead them all out of the woods.
Back in Waebury
There was much rejoicing upon the return of the adventurous king and his band returned to Waebury and not just because Eric announced their arrival with a mighty roar of his own as he jumped for joy and grasped the hands of those he passed with a great hurrah! Behind his followed his new huscarls, each sporting a great wide grin as they embraced their families and womenfolk in the joy of returning from such a strange place with their lives.
Odder things yet would follow though. All they passed were eager to hear what had happened and kings are the kind to crave public attention, so it was not long before Eric declared a gathering on the hill he had claimed for his town center and future castle site. There he embraced their elderly priest as if they were kin and much to the shock of all around him he bowed to the old cleric, and with a bizarre mixture of energy and humility he turned and bowed upon bended knees to the gathered Aedelfaari below the hilltop.
"It was thanks to you, my brave subjects! We return triumphant because of you! It was just as I had thought, your voices flew upon the breeze as guided by the angels whose praises you sang. They found us in that lonely hour as well as the mage that claims dominion over the forest beyond our town and your voices did fill their heart with the light of Dow and the angels who watch over creation. We have made peace with our native neighbors and shall find friends in these wild places here. Each man and woman may call themselves a hero this day for each stood by their king's side as if in an army of faith this day. The better life you were promised is yours to be had!"
And a cheer went up around Waebury that night as each Aedel that called that place home would hold their head high for they had aided their king in a heroic act and the founding of their town. Though they did not have stores overflowing with food and their fine drinks were left far behind in the lands of their birth the people of Waebury made do and held a feast as only the Aedels could. One filled with raucous revelries and raised voices. Indeed the Aedelfaari did sing their songs late into the night, not just the songs of the angels that glorified their distant watchers but the sagas that glorified the heroes passed and the deeds of the Aedels they hoped to exemplify.
Then as inevitably as the tide came the morning after... and Waebury nursed its collective hangover. Except for the king of course who insisted that he would not be able to leave the longhouse, for he was busy collecting his thoughts and planning the future of their kingdom as one of his station should. Apparently Eric's thoughts required water to help their easy flow so he demanded that a well be dug.
Clearly thing king was wise, for many had noted a thirst hanging upon them after a hearty meal of smoked fish and the dwindling barrels of ale and mead after the night of frivolity. As ample as it was, no man could quench himself on sea water. So shovels were gathered and the earth was stuck in search of fresh water while idle hands were sent down to the bay to gather stones once again to form a lip for the future well and the few pieces of the long ships that had not been cannibalized for building materials were taken to make a rope so that any mother of the town might lower a bucket for water to drink, cook or clean with.
It was noted that these simple supplies were running low and it would not be long before the Aedels would have to range beyond their new home to find fresh resources.
X) Reconstruction With the war at an end, Tilaticantar goes through a period of reconstruction - new fields are irrigated, new fishing boats, and a new approach to storehouses. A communal welfare system is also established, and a nascent civic virtue emerges.
And Tilaticantar knew peace. Seated with his daughter and heir, Hiwcantar saw that. And though people continued to stream in, seeking refuge and the longed-for dream of the good life in the good place, there was now stability at last. It was not only Tilaticantar that knew peace, however - for in his heart, Hiwcantar knew it too. Peace and contentment at the thought that the town GREAT Cantar had decreed was now firmly established. It stood tall, proud, unconquerable and infallible. But the scars of the recent war, this baptism by fire, were not yet healed. The storehouse stood half-burned, the fishing fleet not properly organised, the fields far too small to support the influx of people.
And so Hiwcantar oversaw the reconstruction of the town and assigned to the new arrivals their roles. New fishing boats were constructed - calling on the expertise of every able boatbuilder, they were bigger and sturdier so that they could manoeuvre both the Tala and the sea. New fields were cleared and irrigated. And the re-erection of the storehouse was set to with zest. But the ap-Cantar had learned the dangers of one great storehouse, and so it was agreed that four smaller ones in disparate parts of the town would be better. It also meant that there was less traffic to and from any one storehouse. A watch of two was set-up to guard each storehouse against thievery or sabotage by day and night. Every six hours the watch changed, to ensure that the watchmen were always alert and well-rested.
The great town had been built on communal foundations, and so those who hunted and fished and worked the fields did not sell them, but delivered them freely to the storehouse. And wheat was taken and ground, and bread was baked. And everyday bread and meat (or fish) would be distributed that all may eat and prosper. The people of the town carried out their duties, ensuring the strength and stability of their home, and in turn that strength and stability ensured they were fed and protected. And such was the condition of early Tilaticantar.
Célebron was intrigued, and so were his people. The fact that these guardian spirits were once human was something of a let-down, but they still commanded respect for what they are, not what they once were. "Tell me, Kaebora, before your time is up... Where did you come from? How did you get this power? Is this the doing of some Godess?" asked Célebron. The two would converse for whatever amount of time Kaebora had left before his form was altered once again, and Célebron would ask many questions. (C) Ask about the history, age, religion, and/or powers of Kaebora and his kind.)
As the Levogh awoke upon a new morning after the night of the full moon, many were filled with a new sense of safety and security. The spirits were not evil, that much was clear, and although there was much to learn about them still, the elves were free to go about their lives in their new home. They would be worthy of this mighty forest. With the aid of a few builders and craftsmen, whatever rangers were left that hadn't been sent out to explore beyond the forest sought to uncover more of the ruins that the Levogh now settled in. They would leave the largest temple-like structure to last and attempt to systematically explore the ruined buildings and map out their locations. If they deemed it safe and useful, the structure would be repurposed as a dwelling or storage, or prepared to become a building of industry later on. Already the Levogh could feel the absense of a smithy, carpenter, woodworker and so on. Everyone could do basic leatherworking, but a truly skilled elf in those arts hadn't come along for many years. Once the rest of the scouts and rangers returned, the largest and possibly more dangerous ruined buildings could be explored.
Improve infrastructure and explore. Explore the ruins and turn them into dwellings. Other buildings would be prepared to be turned into an industrial or production building later. The largest buildings of the ruins are left alone for now until the scouts return.
"Where do we come from?" Kaebora seemed to contemplate the simple question for far longer than one would think necessary.
"We come from all places, all different tribes of peoples, for in times past our religion was a much larger movement and we wandered the lands. I was raised in a forest far, far away. My mother would cut into the trees and peel off strips of bark, then boil the softer inner part into her soups. Even after so long, I can still remember the taste," he reminisced with a wistful look. "There are others in my brotherhood who came from that place, but we are now just an ancient few. All of the others came to us over the centuries from other places, but it has now been many decades since we have had a new convert. Perhaps that is because we do not proselytize unto others; in my meditations, I long ago came to realize that it is best that we allow potential converts to come to us. There is no piety, wisdom, or peace in a mind that was forced into this life. And since you asked how we came to have our powers, I will tell you that there is a noble Path. The first among us walked it with the guidance of ancient elves, but now I can see that your folk have lost sight of the way, or perhaps yours is a tribe that never came to know the Moon.
The secrets of our power lies in the teachings of the Moon (a kinder and wiser goddess than any other!) which we believe is to lead a peaceful life of solemn meditation; though there are others in these lands that worship the moon, their ways are not that of the noble Path. I am aging and do not have long left; we are only timeless when we take the sacred shape of the owl, so upon the full moons we age as any other mortals. I have perhaps only one or two hundred years remaining upon this plane, but I have already come to understand the Moon and the lands beneath it, so there is nothing left for me but to guide the brotherhood and offer wisdom to any young ones that will have it. If any among you feel the calling of the true and noble Path, we would welcome you into our brotherhood. You would not be the only elves; others like you have lost their heritage, but some of them came to us to find their way back onto the noble Path. Perhaps I shall be able to convince some of them to meet and speak with you."
Kaebora spoke slowly and in a cryptic manner, but it didn't seem as though he was trying to be withholding. From what he'd said, he might have been a thousand years old. One could imagine that by this point it was probably challenging for him to even interact with mortals or truly comprehend small timespans.
"But now the Moon's power wanes, and with it will also fade my ability to take the sacred shape. I must go now, lest I be trapped in this body until the next moon, but I think that you shall see me again. Farewell, Célebron Blackeye, and farewell Levogh."
And with that, the Owl King slowly walked back into the forest and disappeared. A few days later, they saw him again in the tree branches. The other owls similarly returned from wherever they had been on the full moon, and all things in the forest were as they had previously been.
Not long after that strange meeting, Gwyneth and Kalorn returned with news of the tracks that they had seen. Moragh was still missing, but it was perhaps too early to assume that anything had gone amiss with the third ranging party. In any case, Gwyneth and Kalorn were able to join in the exploration of the ruins. As the Levogh had been dwelling upon the crumbling buildings for some time now, they had come to realize the general layout and had already seen the insides of many structures. It was easy to imagine that at one point the city had over a thousand inhabitants.
They gently cut through the drapes of moss and vines that wreathed some of the buildings, then crawled through what might have once been windows or doors. They dug the earth out of many a half-sunken room, and they sifted through the fallen debris. There was the occasional beautiful trinket or treasure that had survived the years. Those treasures of a lost civilization took many forms: pottery, jewelry of gold and silver and even more exotic metals, and a few pieces of carved amber. But there were no weapons and no bones, no signs of war nor famine or any other sort of collapse. It was as if all of the people had simply disappeared one day.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 146 men, 143 women, 75 children. Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to about 30% of adult population. Food level: Average; improving Resources: (Potentially magical) moon fungi Wealth: Nonexistent Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Low; impacted by racial traits. Morale: Average Foreign relations: Brotherhood of the Moon's Wise Children: Friendly
The Lycan Covenant
The pontoon bridge is assembled over the course of several days. Entire tree trunks were gathered by the dozen, woven together into square rafts, and then bound into a chain of such platforms stretching over the river. Throughout this time the rains continued to pour down. The grass everywhere was drowned and replaced by nothing but mud, and the runoff was eroding gulches and gulleys all across the landscape. Further breeding of the rabbits was hindered by the miserable conditions; it was all that they could do to keep what rabbits they already had from drowning.
At least the rainstorms were not getting steadily more violent as they'd been doing. It seemed to have reached its peak, and perhaps calmed a little bit. During that comparatively serene period of light rain, the covenant finished the bridge and used it to carry what remaining lumber they had back over to Wulfshelm. There, they built some hastily constructed longhouses and cottages upon the highest and most solid ground that they could find. It was impossible to find dry bedding and the earth floors of their houses were still damp enough to be more like mud than dirt, but it was better than nothing. Those that called out to the sea received no answer from any monsters that might have lurked within, but some of them rested content thinking that their actions had at least caused to storms to wane.
So it was that as Vlath gathered together his congregation and set out to reclaim the next obelisk, they left with good tidings. The journey was swift and only a light drizzle remained of the ferocious rainstorm that had plagued them for so many weeks. As they passed the first stone, they observed that it had now completely blackened and had been covered in cracks; the air around it radiated the faint but familiar power of their sleeping pantheon. Once they went a ways past that stone, the rain actually stopped and they were once more beneath a bright and warm sun that dried their fur. It was a welcome respite from the cold and rot that had defined their last few weeks.
Within sight of the sea, Vlath and his chosen zealots gathered about the standing stone. He placed a claw upon the rock and claimed it in the name of the Void Gods, but this time the effect was different. The moment that the Voidcaller laid his hands upon the stone, an insatiable void awakened within it. The stone ripped at their bodies and minds and souls; Vlath watched as the sharp outline of his own shadow suddenly twisted and was pulled into the obelisk. Massive fissures erupted across the surface, the stone crackled with power, and then it began to tear itself free from the ground. The entire obelisk levitated a few feet above the ground, still cracking and blackening, and then it suddenly exploded.
The zealots that had circled around all dove for cover and were far enough from the rock that they weren't struck by the scattered fragments of rock, or at least any pieces that were large enough to cause injury, but Vlath had been within an arm's reach. A great slab of rock had struck him upon the jaw and knocked him to the ground where he came to lay utterly motionless. Some wanted to step forward to help, but a great stream of magical energy erupted from the hole in the ground where the obelisk had been. It tore away the earth and soil to reveal some sort of massive, horned skeleton that had been buried beneath the obelisk; fearing for a demon and some sort of evil power, they stayed back.
But Vlath was not dead, merely knocked unconscious and delivered to the world of dreams. Detached from his own body, he saw himself laying on the ground comatose, and he saw the others gawking at him, and he also saw how the clear sky near instantly turned black and came alive with a thunderstorm so powerful that its thunder shook the earth.
And he heard whispers.
F̴̺̿o̶͍͒ơ̸͜l̴̠͠.̸̻̓. The word had a cold, mocking, vicious bite to it.
There was a sound to the whisper, and yet no voice. A cacophony of other words suddenly echoed to him, each one conveying more fury than the last.
IDIOT! HEATHEN! UNGRATEFUL FILTH!
There was a flash of lightning, and Vlath briefly saw the image of himself calling out to the ocean in some vain attempt at reasoning with the monsters that dwelled within.
It was the Void Gods, and they were beyond furious. Vlath could not imagine the exertion that it must have taken for them to shout with such force that their voices echoed out of their prisons and into his mind, but he knew that every maddening syllable of theirs was purchased by more pain than his mind could comprehend. He fell to his knees to grovel; he was completely at their mercy now. But they spared him the horror of hearing another word; instead they jerked at his spirit and threw him into the sea. Burning saltwater filled his eyes and rushed in to fill his surprised lungs, but in this ghostly form he had no need for breath, so he survived albeit in agony.
Down, down, until he was touching the sandy bottom of the ocean. They dragged him across the floor for what might have been only a few minutes, and then he saw the fish monsters. It was even more horrific to look upon them from an outside perspective; from inside the body of one, he had imagined how vile they must have been, but his imagination had failed to live up to reality. They were horrible, twisted abominations of teeth and primal fury.
And they were trying with all their might to clamber across the ocean floor towards the coast; Vlath didn't quite know how far off they were from the beaches, but it couldn't have been farther than a few miles. They scrambled forward upon the ocean floor with all the swiftness that they could, but the mighty storms that had just appeared overhead were now making the waters so choppy and turbulent that it was throwing the monsters back and forth like leaves upon the wind. From some dark crevice in the ocean floor, eldritch tentacles burst free and seized some of the nearest monsters. The things were dragged into the abyss flailing in rage and terror, and then they were dragged all the way down to the Void and devoured by shadows. But it didn't matter, from the murky depths there burst forth one, two, three, four more monsters trying to clamber to the coast. There were more, and more...
Vlath suddenly coughed water out of his lungs. He snapped awake once more, and though he wasn't fathoms beneath the sea, his head had nearly been submerged within a growing puddle beneath the torrential downpour. He stood up and looked to the rainclouds, and then he finally understood: though his people had begun to view the endless rain as a curse brought about by some Young God, the truth was that it was the Void Gods that had conjured those terrible storms, and the storms were the only thing holding back the horde of abyssal monsters. So it had been a terrible sign that the rains over Wulfshelm had begun to weaken and the storms slowly vanish; the Void Gods' power and influence over the world had been slipping after so many days, and if he had waited much longer to claim this second stone, perhaps the monsters would have been able to reach the shores.
Vlath's thoughts raced to the scout's earlier report of a third obelisk further up the shore; claiming it would no doubt strengthen the Void Gods and give them the ability to buy some more time. But the Voidcaller hardly had time to register those thoughts before something emerged from the gaping pit where the obelisk he'd claimed for the gods had just been. The horned skeleton that had been buried down there was now animated by some power and wrapped in layers of writhing shadows. It climbed out of the pit, then clambered up onto its feet and straightened. It was some sort of monstrous giant no less than twice the size of any lycan, and it merely stared impassively at Vlath and waited. When Vlath finally moved, the void monster followed him.
What zealots hadn't fled the scene by then gathered around Vlath and looked at the hulking mass of shadows in awe; the Void Gods had delivered them a champion.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 130 men, 130 women, 59 pups. Livestock: Small number of rabbits Military: 1 void monster. Militia able to be conscripted up to about 30% of adult population. Food level: Slightly below average; being improved Resources: Lumber (low quantity; increasing) Wealth: Nonexistent Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Low; impacted from food level and morale. Morale: Low; due to endless rains Foreign relations: None
Attolia
When Caelis returned, there was a great deal of cheer at their new acquisition of treasure. The fate of that treasure remained to be seen; Caelis could keep it for himself, distribute it among everyone, or just keep it stowed away under the ownership of all of Attolia. But while such options were mulled over, time went by uneventfully. The next few months saw the wood elves see further progress in slowly domesticating the wild beasts, and equally fortunate was that there were no signs of the sailors that had buried the treasure; if they were around somewhere hunting down the ones that stole their gold and jewels, the trail would have long since vanished.
In the Communions that followed, several elves spoke out to report having seen spirits. Most of these spirits took the form of animals and seemed harmless if not benevolent. To some the animals manifested in dreams, whereas others claimed to have seen them in the waking world, and still a few others had seen them in both. None of these spirits manifested as obviously and deliberately as that one boar that led them to coast, but nonetheless all of these sightings contributed to the rise of a sort of shamanistic spiritualism. Most of the hunters now were careful to offer thanks and prayers to the spirits of the animals that they felled and took great care to use every part, lest they end up offending the goodly nature spirits. The only exception was an elf named Salvdal, who saw the whole exercise as pointless superstition and had loudly dismissed it as a waste of time. Nonetheless, Salvdal was a talented hunter, so even if he left behind the worst parts of the animal and never blessed the food, he was nonetheless tolerated by most if only because his singular efforts were enough to feed an entire family.
Yet there were also softly whispered tales of darker and more malevolent spiritual forces, shapeless and foreboding things that loomed over them like stormclouds. Perhaps it was superstitious, but some of the elves wanted to do something about those dark tidings. There was talk of exorcising the entire land with one great ritual, of crafting totems, dreamcatchers, and fetishes around their camp to ward off evil, of offering tribute to the foul spirits that they might look the other way and bring their evil elsewhere, to Salvdal's utter dismissal of the whole thing and proposal that they do nothing about any 'dark spirits'. The cacophony of differing ideas had thus far resulted in nothing major having been done; they would need to come to a consensus.
What was to be done?
A) Conduct a great ritual to bless the land and hopefully exorcise the evil lurking about, complete with incense, bonfires, chanting and then feasting. If nothing else, morale would be improved by the event. B) Go to great pains encircling the camp with salt, crafting totems, and all sorts of other things that might ward off the evil spirits permanently. This will take most of the Attolians' time and attention for at least 1 turn. C) Make an offering to the dark spirits, be it of food, prayer, or even some of the newfound gold. D) Do nothing about these evil spirits! With each passing day that Salvdal goes on as he does without facing any consequences, he looks more and more right. X) Other. Perhaps a new proposal is put forward at the next Communion?
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 128 men, 127 women, 68 children. Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Livestock: A herd of partially domesticated aurochs (1-2 more turns before they will be fully domesticated) Food level: Below Average; improving Resources: Horses (A small number) Wealth: 300 pounds of gold; some precious jewels Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Low; impacted by racial traits, low food level, and good morale. Morale: Above average (from treasure) Foreign relations: None
The ap-Cantar
The next few months saw the tribe mend its wounds and grow stronger yet, under Hiwcantar's steady gaze and guiding hand. The larger rafts and fields began to increase food yields to levels greater than this bend of the Tala had ever known before, and though the rate of Mewari deserters began to slow, still they kept trickling into the ranks of the ap-Cantar. There were numerous complaints about the new system; the best farmers and hunters and fishers seemed to also be the most niggardly, so it was not without some amount of disgust that they surrendered the fruits of their labors to be redistributed among those who owned and offered less. Others took some qualms at the amount of manpower wasted upon guarding all of the various storehouses at all times of the day, but in the wake of Mewar's sabotage such paranoia was not seen as entirely unreasonable.
Though there were those few rotting seeds of discontentment that might call for redress, the tribe was overall prosperous and content. All was well until the sky blackened and the earth shook.
The low rumbling sounded like thunder, and ominous clouds of black and grey indeed came to loom over Tilaticantar and all the riverlands. But even beneath those black clouds, there was no rain. And these clouds had been brought down from the mountain slopes to the north, not blown in from the Sea of Souls. As the sky settled there came a fine rain of volcanic ash, not so different from snow, though the soot and fine particles made their ways into the lungs of those outside and afflicted them with coughs.
So the ap-Cantar took shelter inside their homes of adobe, and they looked outside at the ill omens with wide eyes of fear. For two days the ashes fell down, and on the third there was no sign of it relenting. Even after so long they still heard a deep rumbling from the north; the children shivered for fear that giants were coming. The myths and legends of the riverpeople spoke of great fiery giants that dwelled in those northern mountains, horrible monstrosities that belched soot, kicked up dirt and dust into the air so high that it rained down all across the riverlands, and whose ravenous bellies rumbled so loudly that one could hear them from miles away.
The adult riverpeople were not so afraid of giants in the flesh so much as they were of the ill omen. They were a superstitious lot, and if it were not for the choking ashes, many of the riverpeople might have taken the phenomena for a sign and abandoned the ap-Cantar that they could rejoin the Mewari. And on that topic, some of the ap-Cantar suggested that this was the doings of Cantar himself, enraged that they had not finished their work by smiting what few wretched Mewari refused mercy and still dwelled in that camp upstream. Still one or two vocal others wanted to climb the mountains and find the source of the sounds and ashes, to see if there really were such things as giants, but most seemed to dismiss such speakers as madmen.
What was to be done?
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 155 men, 294 women, 116 children. Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 40% of adult population. Food level: Above average Resources: None Wealth: Nonexistent Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Slightly above average (influenced by food level and recent events) Morale: Average (increased from victory; taken back down from large casualties) Foreign relations: None
The Mustaqilun Tribe
The best hunters know that wild boars make for dangerous prey; boars are even riskier to hunt than bears. The beasts are large, fast, unpredictable, are aggressively territorial, and the males have tusks big enough to disembowel a victim. One moment a hunter can be following the boar's tracks, and in the next the beast will explode out of the underbrush and charge them from behind. For that reason, the efforts to observe the boars out in the wild turn out to be fruitless. In the process a few more boars were captured and a violent few had to be killed, but in turn a few hunters were gored as well. It's just too hard to observe the animals unseen for an extended duration, especially when the hunters are nervous about getting close for fear of being attacked. The boars kept in captivity are hardly any better than the wild ones; their slop gets dumped down into the feeding troughs from outside the pens, because nobody wants to risk venturing in. The most violent animals are of course be the first to get butchered, so in time perhaps the ferocity will be bred out of the captive boars and they'll become more like domestic pigs. But until then, handling them is likely to remain a good bit of trouble; there are some who suggest that if alternative sources of food become necessary, they could perhaps search the mountains for goats.
More interesting was what came of the unblocking of the one collapsed cavern. Behind all that rubble was indeed the beginning of a twisting cavern complex, complete with some more copper ores. The ones down here are different, and less pure. Native zinc and clusters of realgar are present. While neither of those ores would have been useful on their own, if given time and equipment, the metalsmiths could mix them with copper to create more useful alloys like brass and arsenic bronze. Deeper down, the wide cavern tunnels give way to smaller chambers and narrower passages, but then the miners come across several other areas that have collapsed. Oddly, in some of those lowermost sections of the cavern, they came across some blackened animal bones. Piecing the various fragments together, the skeletons seemed to resemble wolves, although ones much larger than any the orcs had ever seen before. In fact, the skeletons were so gigantic that the wolves might have been comparable to ponies in size. The bones were seemingly charred, but there were no ashes around and they hadn't been heated enough to crack open, which left the cause of death all the more mysterious. But aside from mild curiosity; they didn't pay the bones much mind and began trying to dig through the blocked sections.
Rukdug and his party finally returned to Riverforge as that work was being seen to, and just in time to hear a resounding boom: an ear-splintering crack echoed through the air, then gave way to an incessant, low rumble like that of thunder. The sound was coming from somewhere in the mountains and it didn't stop. After some time, they started to see clouds of ash looming upon the distant horizon. It was a volcanic eruption, likely a good ways to the southwest somewhere down the mountain chain.
Not long after that spectacle, some of the miners and prospectors came running to the surface. They heaved, gasping for breath between each word as they reported their findings. On their way back up, the distant eruption had of course shaken the earth and scared them more than a little bit, but that wasn't the only reason they'd been running; deep below, behind one of the blocked chambers, they'd found something.
There were several veins of the strange substance. Crystals of it jutted out of the walls; it also had an unnatural albeit faint glow about it, and also some gently stirring streaks of smoky black within, as if it were a petrified flame.
One of them had thought to touch one of the outcroppings, and to his peril he found that it was both warm and incredibly sharp. The tiniest edge of a crystal had broken the skin on his fingertip, but that was enough to taint his blood with some poison that seared him as though his own blood was boiling. The fiery sensation wouldn't stop, and it was so great that after a few hours of his incessant howling, the others amputated three of his fingers. As the volcanic eruption seemed to be calming and was distant enough to not threaten collapsing the orcs' reinforced tunnels, the prospectors led the curious down into the chamber where they'd found the strange substance. To the surprise of both the discoverers and the onlookers, the gems were glowing even brighter now with a hazy corona about them, and they radiated so much heat that the entire room had already been made noticeably hotter than the other clammy tunnels. Perhaps these firestones, as the miners took to calling them, were somehow linked to that volcanic activity.
What was to be done about it?
A) Harvest these crystals and give them to the master smiths; we'll craft them into weapons, or if they prove too brittle, infuse them into our metals. Our warriors will be unstoppable wielding these magical powers! B) Wait patiently seeing as these crystals seem dangerous and unstable, and in the meantime have the shamans examine the firestones. Perhaps they could utilize these things in their rituals, or find some sort of alchemical use. C) Collapse the tunnels once more and never go back down there anywhere near the crystals; these firestones seem foreboding and evil, and these tunnels might have been blocked for a reason. The charred skeletons are equally telling. X) Other.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 187 men, 189 women, 86 children. Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population. Livestock: Numerous untamed boars Food level: Below Average; improving Resources: River stones (moderate amount; being gradually depleted), Firestones (magical gem/ore), copper, zinc, and arsenic (none; not yet being mined and exploited) Wealth: Some semi-precious gemstones Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Low; impacted from low food level. Morale: Average Foreign relations: None
Orr'gavol: The Hammersworn
The construction went reasonably well. Infighting between the Unions was kept to a minimum, and all were happy to have additional space added to the longhouses. Even so, it took nearly as much manpower and time to add a few extra rooms for the brewing equipment than it had taken to build the entire longhouses only a few months ago; that was all thanks to the snows. They were beginning to come in earnest, and work was being done to shovel the walkways and sweep the snow off the roofs before it grew so heavy that it threatened to break the rafters. Moving the lumber was similarly growing harder by the day.
Meanwhile, Kadol and his partners were at the head of the small company, struggling through the snow as they tried to find the haunted mountain pass once again. Eventually they came upon what they thought was the right path; the gaping gulch to the side reaffirmed to them that this was the pass where they'd found the magnetite. By the time they'd reached the mountain pass, what had been a light dusting of snow upon the rocks had turned into several inches. Where before they had seen the countless jagged rock outcrops sticking up from the ground in that canyon below, they were now all covered beneath a sheet of white. That didn't do anything to ease their minds, though.
They cleared the path and followed the winding ledge, taking a slow pace both because of the hard conditions and the very real danger of slipping. Fortunately, mountaineering was in their blood and none of the dwarves tumbled down to meet an unseemly end. The hike took at least twice as long as it had the first time, and by the end it seemed as though some of the more bookish among the delegation were growing weary and irritable. Kadol nervously looked back to Qorr and Mehmel. "I could've sworn the magnetite was there, just after that bend. You think we passed it, or missed it in the snow?"
The voice that answered wasn't one that Kadol recognized, and in the past days he'd become familiar with all the others in his company.
"Steady lad, an' don't look back. Keep yer eyes where yer goin', it's a long ways down if ye slip!"
All of them came to a start and let out exclamations of surprise; it was the ghost that'd spoken, and he was right next to Kadol. Even while keeping vigilant for his faded form, with how well he blended into the snow, they'd nearly walked right through him without noticing.
"Ha! I scare ye? Call it payback; last time 'twas you lot that took me by surprise! By me beard, it'd been too long since any of ye came this way. I was startin' to think all my folk had left their hills an' holed up in some mountain!"
He seemed a friendly sort, so introductions were made. Joron, Qorr, and all the others gave him their names and he repeated them back, and so the introductions went until all the living fell silent and looked to him. He waited a few moments, then seemed to gather from their expectant gazes that they were waiting for him to offer his name in turn. "Ye can't be serious! You lot forget me name? The great Thunderhowler? Back in the day, I earned that title when I threw a dozen of 'em off the cliff meself, and yelled like a madman the whole time! My name was...uh..." he scratched his head for a moment. "Gah, I remember now! Godrim Thunderhowler. It's a forgettable name I suppose, Godrim. But Thunderhowler? How many Thunderhowlers've come since?"
The ghost snorted. "Come to think of it, I've been here a long time. Used to keep track of the years by countin' the winters, but 'tis been too many hundreds. Was startin' to wonder if it was worth it, if there was still anyone left to save. Now that I've seen ye I can at least rest that thought easy; long as there's someone to listen, I'll keep a-watchin' and stay ready to sound the alarm. But here you lot look like you didn't just forget the old watcher's name, but that ye don't 'ave a clue in the world what I'm speakin' of! Tell me it ain't so!"
Godrim witnessed their blank faces again and his dull, ghostly eyes shone a little bit as if tears were close to coming. "Then either my folk in the valleys south are all long gone, or yer their lot and yet you've grown idle and fat, forgot that there's evil in this world that could take everything you've got. Gather 'round, and listen close. My folk used to live in little hillside holes, up north of here. We were unawares, just like you, when the enemy came. In the dead of winter, when we were all snowed in and huddled about our hearths, they came from the icy north. They broke into our halls an' butchered us like pigs, young and old, men and women, 'twas all the same for those animals. We survivors fled south, over these mountains, and still they chased. We finally held 'em off here; must've hurled a thousand of 'em into that abyss. But we knew they might come back! The runesmiths used magic to bind me spirit here, so that I could always keep watch."
Then Thunderhowler reached to his waist and procured a massive ram's horn that had been hidden behind his buckler. "It's been a great many winters since last they came, but in the north our enemy never die; they only sleep. They could come back any one o' these years, and this winter is shaping to just maybe be nasty and cold enough to rouse 'em once again. If the enemy ever start tryin' to climb up this mountain again, I'll blow this horn to let the whole south know. And if ye ever hear the horn, ye'd best either send yer best warriors here to hold the pass, or run south as far as yer legs'll take you. Yer generation has growed soft; I can see it now. If the enemy make it over this mountain and fight you in the open, they'll slaughter you all."
One of the dwarves finally had the heart to ask Godrim just what this 'enemy' was, but the ghost only shook his head. "Could tell you, but you'd hardly believe me. There aren't words for it, anyways. Go. Go now. Go back to yer homes and tell yer folk all that ye've heard, but first, go into that canyon down there and look at 'em for yourself. See the dead enemy with yer own eyes; it'll scare some sense into ye."
So the delegation obeyed, and driven by a morbid curiosity they spent the better part of a day following the trail back down and then climbing over rugged slopes until they were in the canyon way below that mountain trail. The dwarves sifted through the snow, searching for any sign of the bodies that the ghost had spoken of hurling down. They didn't have to look for long; to their horror, the vast canyon pit was filled with bones and dead things too numerous to count.
It became apparent that the sharp, jagged stones that Kadol and his trio had previously seen down there were actually savage tusks extruding from countless gargantuan skulls buried beneath the snow. Now that they were close and able to dig through the snow, the dwarves witnessed just how massive the horrible skeletons were. The dwarves' ancient enemies must have stood three times as a tall as any dwarf; these were troll bones, but even by the standards of trolls, these monsters were huge.
By the week's end, the delegation had returned panting and visibly shaken. The spirit didn't seem the sort to stop them from excavating their iron mine, but perhaps they now had greater things to worry about. What was to be done?
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 220 men, 218 women, 101 children. Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Food level: Average; food stores decreasing Resources: Lignite coal (low grade; large amount, increasing), iron ore (none, has been discovered but not yet mined) Wealth: Nonexistent Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Average Morale: Average Foreign relations: None
The Aedelfaari
With Waebury so close to the sea's shore, the water table sits high and the Aedels didn't have to dig far before their well came upon water. The digger braced the sides of the pit with wooden boards in places, then used stones to build a circular rim around the top so that none would fall in by accident. The well of course sat a short distance away from the village and the lone hill that it rested upon, on the flat and grassy plain. If they ever tried to fortify their hill with a true motte and bailey fortress then another well would have to be dug inside the castle walls and atop that hill, and its construction would be made considerably more difficult for having to go all the way through the hill and then some. But for now, Waebury had its water.
And though their smokehouse and their fishing rafts had seen to the foodstores such that there was little hunger, the lack of variety in their diets might have eventually been cause for some unhappiness. But fortunately, on some mornings they would wake with the crack of dawn and find a few bushels of berries or nuts laid upon the ground halfway between Waebury and the treeline of the nearby forest. Curiosity made a few children wake up even before the sunrise and look to the fields outside, and they went on to tell tales of seeing deer emerge from the forest to leave behind the berries, and tiny creatures like squirrels and raccoons scurrying through the grass to leave behind the nuts. Out of respect for the arrangement there were no further foraging trips into the forest; it would have been greedy to pilfer the forest and its denizens out of more when they freely gave so much.
And though it wasn't often that they heard the Lord of the Forest play his songs for long, whenever they did hear such music, the land seemed to come alive to do something or another. They couldn't pretend to understand his machinations or the meaning and power behind his songs, at least not yet. It seemed as though the forest equally struggled to understand what they were doing, though; occasionally the familiar bear would venture out from the trees and look upon their works, but he always left seemingly more confused than he'd come. Though it might have been just them projecting their imaginations unto reality, most of the people were starting to believe that the bear was a noble of sorts among all the other forest creatures. The only animals certainly seemed to respect the bear and sometimes followed it around, and from how the bear behaved, it seemed almost as if the deerman had sent it to be an ambassador of sorts. Or a spy.
As they had dug the well, the bear had come somewhat close and watched them with mild interest. In particular it seemed as though his eyes were drawn towards the wooden planks that they'd reclaimed from the scuttled longships and brought over to brace the well, but nothing had come of it for several weeks. But then they remembered later, when they heard a more sharp and violent song than most emerge from the forest. The power of the music had seemingly conjured a great storm; the dark clouds brewed mostly out over sea, but great water spouts made for the shore and turned into tornados. It looked as though the vortexes might threaten Waebury, but none came too close; instead, the Aedels huddled inside and listened to the rains pound upon their thatch roofs and the distant sound of trees snapping in the raging winds.
The storm ended as abruptly as it had begun, and then there were several trees near the edge of the forest that had been blown over or outright snapped by the wind. It was as if they'd been gifted the lumber. The next morning some lumberjacks went out to test that notion, and they observed that there were already numerous saplings poking out from the still-muddied earth. The bear watched impassively as lumberjacks harvested the fallen trees, but if they sever ventured closer than his liking to the trees that yet lived, he would stare at them until the sheer discomfort made them shuffle away. It rarely took more than a few seconds for his irritated stare to cause such a reaction; for all his passiveness, he was still a hulking bear.
As the lumberjacks harvested the last of the gifted trees, a pack of wolves erupted from the underbrush and sprinted toward the bear. Between their baying and ragged panting, something was said, for the bear looked off into the distance and roared. The wolves and bear both looked to the Aedels, their eyes bidding them to follow, and so the lumberjacks were split. Some went the short distance back to Waebury to speak of what had just happened, whilst others followed the animals into the forest and stomped in the mud hard enough to leave a trail of footprints that would be easily followed by those behind.
The animals led them a few miles through the forest. The woodland was incredibly dense, but along the way it was as though the path cleared itself to allow them an easy passage. Eventually they emerged from the heart of the wood and were at a place near the sea, a relatively short way up the coast from Waebury, and right before them was the sight of a shipwreck. It was a mighty and huge ship, much larger and fatter than any of the narrow longships that had borne the Aedels to this new land, but its great mast was snapped and the ship itself had been beached and driven ashore.
On the beach there were throngs of what looked to be the former ship's sailors; there were at least thirty thirty, mostly humans but with a few unfamiliar-looking beings among the motley crew. They had lined up shoulder to shoulder on the beach, shouting brandishing cutlasses and other strange weapons. And even as they did all of that, an ever-growing crowd of bears, wolves, stags, and even birds were assembling themselves by the beach's shore and braying back. There was no sign of what might have caused the conflict, but the standoff seemed to only be escalating with each minute that passed.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 197 men, 196 women, 87 children. Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Food level: Average Resources: Lumber (small quantity) Wealth: Nonexistent Trade: Nonexistent Growth: Above Average; influenced by food and morale Morale: Above average; returning to normal Foreign relations:Lord of the Forest: Friendly
Oguurec Dekaan
BOOM! The ground shook and the deafening explosion sounded like thunder from miles away. From up as close as Joz was, it left his ears ringing. "Nice!" he called out, "That one had a good sound to it!"
He mentally made note of that young goblin mage's promise. He would prove to be worthy of joining the new Kooch Hor, given some more practice...but then Joz looked up to see that newest protege become buried beneath the landslide that his own explosion had triggered. One of the apprentice's arms stuck out from beneath a pile of heavy looking rocks, but fortunately his peers came to the rescue by blowing away the rocks (and that arm!) with more explosions. Maybe conducting the training exercises along the slopes of a mountain was a bad idea?
He shrugged off the notion and his sudden disappointment. "Next student!" he shouted. The young goblins continued to mill about over there in the near distance. He got their attention by conjuring an explosion of his own, then yelled once again, "Next student!"
That time, the next one in line scrambled to his place like a good little goblin.
In the days to come, the apprentices finally became good enough to not blow themselves up, so the time had come to practice on something a bit more difficult than rocks on a mountainside. They wandered about for a good half-day until they came upon a few mountain goats. These must have been the dumbest goats on the mountain, or perhaps deaf, because not even the numerous booms and incessant cackling that heralded an approaching group of goblins had scared the goats away. The Kooch Hor took their positions and blew the stupid creatures sky high. What scraps of the meat they managed to gather after the fact were singed quite badly, but it still made a welcome addition to the dwindling food stores.
Within a few fortnights, Joz felt confident enough in the goblins' abilities to present them to the mage-queen. There were only so many different ways to blow something up, after all. "Yer highness, here dey at! The Kooch Hor stand ready te blow things up! But uh, maybe first you should 'ave 'em catch us some more food or somethin'..."
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 190 men, 190 women, 75 children. Military: 15 Kooch Hor mages. Militia able to be conscripted up to 40% of adult population. Food level: Low Resources: None Wealth: Nonexistent Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Average; influenced by low food and racial traits Morale: Average Foreign relations:None
It was dusk, and there was silence in their small camp. They huddled around a small campfire to be in the smoke as much as the warmth; here by the river, there were plenty of biting insects. The smoke kept them away, and the crackling fire was mesmerizing enough to lull a tired wanderer to sleep.
But suddenly, there were the sounds of pounding footsteps and twigs breaking underfoot. There were things suddenly charging from the nearby treeline, breaking from a silent approach into a full sprint. Their huge shadows appeared in the campfire's light, and the rangers that had been huddled around it spun around in bewildered surprise.
There were three hulking figures that stood before them: one flourishing a spear, one clutching a club, and the final one holding up a mighty fist.
"You lil ones're dumb to come here! Need more than a few pipsqueaks like you to fight us!" the barehanded one called out.
"An' if you're sneaky sneaks, then not very smart to light a fire an' show us all you're here! An' not too smart to let us out-sneak you!" said another one that other two called Fromp; waving around the club made him lack sophistication, but at least he wasn't quite as hairy as his two friends.
Then even as the travelers scrambled to the other side of the fire, they tried to speak and talk down the three assailants.
But the ringleader, the one with the spear, would have none of it. "You are unwise to face your opponents unarmed!" he interrupted.
"Hey, you callin' me dumb too?!" demanded the one that had only his fists, but by then the elves had already drawn their weapons and the time for mocking them was over. Now they could play!
The one with the spear grinned. "We'll give you the fight you came for!"
When Caelis returned with his scouts, his people were amazed at the treasure that the boar spirit had led them to. It was something that he had to think about very carefully as this sudden influx of wealth would likely change the culture of the group as well. The group so far had largely been a communal people who relied on bartering for trade. Most things, they shared since survival in the steppes was a group effort. However, a currency would certainly be helpful... particularly so whenever they met with another civilization. That said, would they meet another group or a settlement anytime soon? These were hard questions and things to consider.
He ultimately came to decide that in order to facilitate some sort of economy/currency and private enterprise within the group, Caelis distributed 50 pounds of gold evenly among all the adults of the Attolians. It would give everyone some spending money so that they would no longer have to barter for things or services. In fact, that's what he had some of the more crafty elves among the Attolians start working on. He had a good portion of the tribe start turning those 50 pounds into standardized gold coins. It would hopefully lead to the birth of a small internal economy and encourage people to use their creativity and skills to start their own ventures that would benefit the Attolians, a cottage industry. The day that they met others in the world was something that they had to be ready for, and having a currency to use to trade would without a doubt be useful. The rest of the gold and jewels, would remain stowed away as a treasury for this fledgling civilization.
---
When it came to the communions, there were many disparate voices in regards to the spirits. On one side, there were those like Lady Saphira who saw these spirits in their meditations and fervently believed in them. On the other hand, Salvdal remained skeptical despite the sighting of the boar spirit and their discovery of the treasure chest. Caelis wasn't one to force others to believe in something. Thus, one night, Caelis gathered the Attolians together around the great central campfire where they all ate a communal dinner. He then began his speech:
"My fellow Attolians, our recent Communions have had some of us get in touch with the spirits that reside in these lands. While I am not one to completely worship them with blind devotion, I cannot deny that they do not exist... not after what the great boar spirit led to us."
Caelis then placed his hand on the treasure chest, which sat next to him and patted it.
"Thus, the word of both benevolent and malevolent spirits is... concerning and is an issue that should be addressed. As Salvdal mentioned, perhaps it is all a waste of time, but it pays to be careful. Thus, I ask those of you how have seen these spirits or have communicated with them, in this plane or in visions, to decide among those of you who is the most spiritually attuned to these spirits. Those who have the most innate natural abilities... I will personally ask to become shamans who communicate and placate these spirits... in essence, spiritual leaders of our community."
The Attolians began to mutter among themselves to the news. Most seemed to believe in the spirits to a certain degree, but those who were adamant in their influence in this world and had demonstrated natural spiritual ability soon stood up to walk before Caelis. In all, five of them stood with Lady Saphira taking lead. Caelis slightly bowed to them and said "We rest our trust on you to guide us through the matters of these spirits." They silently and solemnly nodded in acknowledgement.
The very next day, Caelis suddenly woke as he heard a female voice.
Here shall I prove your name Look, that is the light that will become life
Oh music of Paul that weaves time Eternally tell the story
Little ones that shine down in the darkness Again follow him, and me as well
Extol the light of life with prayers Until the day to come, let it be with you let it be with you
Caelis stepped out of his tent to see Lady Saphira and the shamans in the middle of the camp with some rudimentary instruments. They were practicing and preparing a ritual and based on the lyrics of the song... or was it a chant? Regardless, it appeared that she was attempting to pray and appeal to the benevolent spirits so that they could keep the darker spirits away from inflicting harm upon the Attolians. Caelis found himself staring. He was certainly entranced by the song, but caught himself a few seconds after it was over. He had to go help the others make coins and supervise the camp. He came to notice that some of the elves were helping the shamans with setting up for the ritual and a festival. With the matter of the spirits being delegated to the five new shamans, Caelis hoped that the spirits would continue to look upon the Attolians with good intentions.
---
Summary:
Action: Improve Culture and Technology Caelis designates 50 pounds of the gold to be turned into coins and distributed evenly among the Attolians while the rest of the gold is stowed away as part of the group's treasury. This will hopefully encourage Attolians to start adopting the new currency of the group and facilitate a small economy within the group.
Event: A/X 5 Spiritually attuned Attolians are chosen and asked to serve as the group's shamans in charge of Attolia's spiritual matters. They begin to put together a ritual and festival of lights to cast out the dark and invite benevolent spirits to watch over and guide the Attolians.
There were lesser ways to return home than to the sound and shaking of the ground beneath you as the fury of the land itself vented unleashed its fiery, toxic rage into the distant sky; Thankfully, it seemed to be far enough away that while it was something to note and maybe try to locate sometime down the road it wasn't an imminent threat to Riverforge.
After handing some of the spoils of the hunt over to the leather workers in order to properly treat the skin to forge a banner from, placing the two collections of 'children' bones somewhere safe for later use and offering Morog's remains to to claimed by whomever gave enough of a damn, Rukdug took his time in checking up on the statues of the fortress and the improvements that had been made in his absence.
While the boar pens were of interest (and the suggestion of gathering some goats as well was quickly given the go ahead), it was the mining efforts that had caught the Hunter's interest... the presence of the 'firestones' most of all. Back in the old country, the discovery of such a find would have resulted in immediate attempts at weaponize regardless of the cost... but witnessing the connection to the volcano as well as the remains of the wolves in the caves, Rukdug decided to air on the side of caution. Since the firestones were clearly magical in nature, he sent in the shamans to investigate them properly to get a better grasp on them...
For a moment he considered experimenting with one of the Firestones, attempting to infuse it with one of the smelters to see they could be used to enhance the heat of the smelters and thus help with melting down stronger ores, but the charred bones of the wolves and the howls of the orc who had touched one of them had caused him to...lean on the side of caution. Let the crazy magic men poke and prod the things first before trying to do anything with them...
Besides, his attention was going to be elsewhere. Melting down ore was going to be important in the days to come: With the ability to produce copper, brass and bronze at hand it was time to get mining operations started! Granted it wasn't as good as iron or steel, but industry was industry and bronze was better then nothing.
Rukdug is sending in the shamans to 'poke at the firestones' in order to get a better understanding of them.
Speaking of ores, it's time to start mining that copper, arsenic and zinc.
With her safety secured behind her royal guards, Uxu could focus on getting more food to fill those slowly dwindling stockpiles that would eventually lead to a peasant revolt. Unfortunately, a revolt of the size Uxu predicted would happen if they didn’t get food would be more than her and her merry band of guards. For a few days she went over Joz’s report of how he trained the Kooch Hor by making a bunch of goats blow up, and thinking about that, those goats would probably have made good for a herd of meat. Perhaps there were more.
Uxu summoned a Kooch Hor Mage that was on duty outside her tent, keeping her staff held up as the Mage bowed. Her order was clear and resolute, “Gets me a party of a buncha huntas will ya? I gots me an idea.” Without word the Kooch Hor Mage went to go gather a group of these goblin hunters.
When they arrived once more, a group of fifteen or so of the tribe’s hunters who had caught food for the day bowed to their Mage-Queen, probably not thinking of revolting any time soon as their were fine for the time being. “It seems to mes that we have a bit of a food shortage, it’s time to fix that. This Kooch Hor Mage will escort yous all to where he found the goats that hes blew up, I want yous to bring me back a herd of them goats. That way we cans breed em and eat em.” Uxu looked over the group for a moment, “If one of yas does remarkable I may just share my tent with ya for a night,” wanting to encourage the males to do a good job for their ruler.
Once the group of hunters went off to try and find the goats that the tribe would need, Uxu realized they would need a pin to keep these goats, which would probably very much needed simply for organizational purposes. The Mage-Queen rose from her seat and exited her tent, flanked by four of her mages, she strode to one of her friends, Stieq, who she had happened to appoint as one of the leading constructors.
“Eyy, Stieq, it’s been a while!” Uxu exclaimed with joy as she approached the goblin who stood about a foot lower than her, making him somewhat a dwarf in the goblin society.
“Eyy! It’s Uxu! Forget about it!” Stieq laughed, as he scratched the back side of his head at meeting his good friend. “What brings ya to my neck a da woods?,” he inquired, looking over at the guards who were merely laughing to each other about the shortness of the male in front of them.
“Well, I need ya to make me a pen to hold a bunch a goats. Somewhere on the outside of the camp, we’ll need it to keep em from runnin’ off after we catch him,” Uxu said pointing her staff away from the large goblin camp, a rather large explosion shaking the earth as a mushroom cloud to signify where the pen would be generally located would be. “Make sure they can’t jump out, I’m pretty sure goats like to jump, right?”
“I think so, but I’ll get right on it boss!”
A)Improve Food: Sending a team of hunters to gather a herd of goats so the tribe can breed them and use them as slaughter. D) Improve Infrastructure: Have Stieq and his boys build a pen to hold said goats so the tribe will have somewhere to put them if the hunters are successful.
B) The Unions of Copper, Phosphorous and Glass were given orders to begin researching simple runesmithing techniques from whatever clues they can find around the Hovel. C) In a fit of desperation, the Union of Stone was given command of dwarves from the Unions of Earth and Bronze to start construction of a mountain fortress to the west of the Hovel, even though spring has yet to come. Additionally, the Union of Silver was tasked with aiding the Union of Steel by planning out a road network between the planned iron mine to the west and the Hovel, one that would pass by said mountain fortress. F) The Union of Steel was tasked with building an iron excavation site in the mountains to the west, where they found Godrim Thunderhowler.
This was the first time the longhouse felt cold. The walls were as thick and tight as always - not even the whistles of the wind ran through the tar-filled cracks between the planks and stone. The coals in the central hearth glowed with heat and light as usual, yet the air was as chilling as the outdoors. Neither debate nor dispute rustled through it; merely frightened whispers dared venture out into the room. The full hall had never felt emptier. The silence remained even as Osman Slag came out from the back room. He scanned the faces of his people - they told different stories - some long, others short; some involving a family, others involving a life's work - but all had the same conclusion: Death. Osman sat down in his chair, ran a hand through his long, black beard, and cleared his throat.
"Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters. I, foreman Osman Slag of the Union of Steel, declare this meeting of Unions to be open. All mouths will speak, all ears will hear, all minds will think. Our agenda today is once again long and may very well decide the future of our people. Let us begin." Osman raised his fist in Steel Union salute. Each Union saluted back in their own way.
"I trust we have all heard Logmaster Joron Scroll's report. Against my better judgment, I let him take Kadol, Mehmel Flame and Qorr Coal to the western hills to investigate what many of us thought was but silly younglingspeak. I see now that I was in the wrong - let it be said once more: I was in the wrong. When even the world-eyes return with tales of ghosts, it is clear that we have strayed too far from reality. Our time in the mountain deep has made many of us blind to the world of the spirits - a world our ancestors knew well. While we can debate long and hard about whether we have angered the spirits, none can dispute one fact: We have forgotten them. This must change at this instant. I, foreman Osman Slag, lay the following suggestion before the council: The world-eyes movement is, from now on, banned." A sudden collective roar of fury shot out from the Union of Phosphorous and some members from nearly every other Union.
"Foreman, you are being irrational. Yes, we, too, were in the wrong and taunted our brothers and sisters needlessly even though they spoke nothing by truth - but there is no need to-" Erima Rock said desperately.
"You world-eyes often speak of others' reluctance to accept the alchemical truth. You shun those of your own who believe in all that cannot be seen with one's eyes. If spirits that can be seen exist, we must accept that spirits who cannot be seen, also may exist. Therefore, we can no longer allow the further existence of your movement," Osman replied. In the crowd, Joron Scroll and Daven Glint, representative from the Bronze Union, nodded in approval. Erima lowered her head and gestured for the rowdy world-eyes to calm down.
"Joron Scroll. Step forth. I asked you to take your wisest and discover for us the story of this Godrim Thunderhowler. Have you come to a discovery yet?"
Joron stepped forward. A pair of assistants each came bearing a small stack of copper disks, many of them green with age, and placed them down on the table. Afterwards, another pair each brought a bundle of parchment scrolls, one of them looking ripped and mouldy. Joron cleared his throat and runmaged through the documents and disks until he found the oldest disk and the oldest scroll. He gently removed the band keeping the scroll rolled neatly and calmly rolled it out, clearing his throat once more before reading:
"Mountain yonder, clad in snow; tell me why my city burns; Orr'gavol, the shadow spurns; taste for blood, eyes that glow."
Joron put the scroll down and reached for a moss-green copper disk. He rubbed it gently with a fold of his robe and began reading:
"When the Golumnara looked down and saw the Umnastarr, their hearts grew hot with fury and their minds black with rage. Disgusted with the arrogance of the Gol'ungyr, the Golumnara struck down the mountains in the west and in the north, unleashing a thousand days of ice and death upon the Valley of the Darr. Shards like tusks of beasts rained from the heavens on weary Gol'ungyr bodies, waves of snow and frost flushed through the valley like a tide - a tide fat with ravenous sharks."
Joron put down the disk. At this point, many of the dwarves around had leaned so far in they were figuratively lying on top of the tables. Osman drummed his fingers impatiently. Joron dug through the pile once again and pulled out a slightly newer, yet still rather green, disk from the pile. He brushed some dust off it and began reading:
"Popomel the First was right in his mission to undo the Umnastarr, but even the destruction of the stairway to the heavens could not soothe the fury on the Golumnar's peak. His line was snapped early for his ignorance - merely forbidding the sacrilege of surmounting Golumnar was a meagre attempt to please those ever-holy on high. Meagre, meagre, meagre. We saw, yes, we all felt the punishment of the Golumnara: A winter not only in the form of frost, but in fear. The demons came from the north and west - brought our every home to ruin. Eyes like kindling coals; tusks like spears of steel; mind set on naught but the flesh of us sinners."
Joron put down the second disk. He declared that there was one more document to present before he could share his conclusion. He picked up a final scroll, this one looking surprisingly new. He pulled the black ribbon sealing the scroll off and unrolled it.
"Six were chosen out of us; one of every folk; given axe, given shield; given all that they may wield; placed in hills, placed in caves; placed to guard us 'gainst the waves. Hark, the horn of death is blown; one for every guard; ancestors, holy gods - give us all that we may wield; fight in hills, fight in caves; here we die against the waves."
Joron put down the scroll. His assistants came over and began to clean the table of the documents and disks. Joron stepped closer to the centre of the room and looked around. Half the crowd looked very confused; the other half looked to have some fear mixed in with the confusion. Joron nodded at Osman, who looked somewhat confused himself. Joron sighed and lifted his hand.
"My fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, we have studied the few texts and logs we managed to salvage after the Calamity. Our research have brought us to the harrowing conclusion that our people's history with the gruesome winters of old here in the valley of the Darr, may not only have been characterised by ice and snow. With the words of Godrim Thunderhowler as an addition to our research and the discovery of the skulls below the mountains to the west, we propose the idea that our people never fell to merely the cold - there was something else out there. This scourge that the logs and scrolls keep mentioning. This wave of death, of sharks, of demons. We cannot say for now exactly what these are, but the gods know, we must prepare ourselves. Thunderhowler's spirit spoke of 'evils of this world', and we cannot go on pretending that these do not exist. Good foreman, history's truth is that the gods are cruel in their nature, and that is the way we must see them - cruel and very, very real. Foreman, I propose we begin sacrificise of food, craftsmanship and animals to the gods, as we did in ages past. Only then-..."
"We will do no such thing, Joron Scroll," Osman retorted curtly. "Our supplies are stretched thin already, even thinner if we add the potential threat of an invasion."
"What will we do then, good foreman?" Joron pleaded. "If we do not attempt to please the gods in hopes of a lighter punishment, then we must prepare for their icy wrath."
Osman nodded. He pointed to the last of the scrolls and disks that the assistants were busy carrying back to the house of the Union of Copper.
"Runesmithing. You will take our finest scholars and you will find some way to unlock the ancient arts of runesmithing. That is sure to give us an edge in a coming conflict." Joron looked dumbfounded, uncharacteristically so. Some dwarves in the crowd began discussing whether the foreman had lost his mind, some even laughed.
"Good foreman, correct me if I heard wrong - you commanded me to uncover the secrets of runesmithing?" Joron repeated.
"And by your fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, you shall complete this mission," Osman affirmed, looking as serious as he always did, if not a little stern. Joron's brow rose in disbelief.
"Foreman, I am not certain if you understand - runesmithing has not been practiced since the time of Popomel the Second, and even then, most of the techniques of the ancient times were forgotten. Even if we had all the scrolls and logs in Gol'kharumm, we would likely never uncover anything!"
"You have been given your command, Logmaster. You shall take the Union of Phosphorous and the Union of Glass with you. Together, the three Unions will uncover the secret to saving our people. Now go." Joron Scroll of the Copper, Erima Rock of the Phosphorous Union, and Herim Ore of the Glass Union all looked equially unwilling to do as commanded, but a certain hint of curiousity glinted all their eyes. Just maybe, they thought. They said their oath aloud and left the hall with their respective unions. Osman fell back into his chair and scratched his arm. Khyber Tin of the Mithril Union stood up with some difficulty and looked at Osman.
"That was foolish, foreman. Runesmithing has been a myth for centuries, and now you set nearly a third of our people and nearly all of our greatest minds on the task of chasing a legend. I pray to the Heaven Smith and all the Forge-Saints that this produces the results you hope for. Otherwise, you have wasted the valuable time we do not have." He gave an angry grunt before he got up and left the hall, along with the rest of the Mithril Union. Osman felt beads of sweat form on his forehead. Was the stress finally getting to him? He pushed the thought away when Quana Forge stood up.
"Foreman, there is still the issue of the magnatite in the western mountains. The spirit, while bearing ill news, is a friend to our people. We can therefore finally begin mining the iron we need. However, with the snows having settled, travel there will be hard. We must plan proper, efficient routes and get that iron as soon as possible."
Osman pondered this for a second and gave an agreeing nod. "I approve of your proposal, Quana. You shall command the Union of Silver to help you plan an efficient network of paths until spring comes and we can begin constructing roads. Until then, use wooden roads and bridges where the snow gets too deep or too treacherous. Igura Water of the Union of Silver. You have heard your task. You and your union will aid Quana Forge and the Union of Steel in constructing the road to the new western mine, and by your fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, you shall complete this mission."
Igura Water, a young, fair-haired dwarf of a thin, slim build, stepped forward and courtesied in the Silver Union style. Her fingers were armoured with gold and silver rings; her neck was heavy with necklaces; her robes were wrapped in pristine pelts. "By my fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, I shall complete this mission," she repeated, flashing a grin of golden teeth, and left with Quana Forge and their Unions. The dwarves that remained looked at Osman in disbelief. Ra'ol Cave stepped forward and looked ready to give Osman a piece of his mind, but Osman was quicker.
"Ah, Ra'ol, just the dwarf I wanted to call up next. You will take your Union, along with the Unions of Earth and Bronze, and begin constructing a mountain fortress in the great cracks to the west. We must strengthen the defenses of the new iron route post-haste." Ra'ol lowered his fist, looking dumbfounded.
"Now? As winter begins? Even if we had the tools to do that, we would still be short on all kinds of supplies!" Ra'ol retorted switfly and loudly. Osman waved a dismissive hand.
"This fortress will act as an outpost for rest and warmth in the winter months to come. It will also provide protection against this new threat that may come from the west."
"But-!" Ra'ol pleaded. Osman, looking unusually vexed, waved his hand dismissively once more.
"You shall have all the resources and help you may need, Ra'ol. Now get to it. This meeting is adjourned." Osman stood up and walked into the backroom in a storm. Outside, he heard outrage and disbelief at the foreman's orders. Osman grunted quietly in pain and looked down at his arm.
H) Expand military: Eric rallies a militia and brings them to join the gathering forces of the forest.
I) Take diplomatic action - Attempt to talk down the sailors and start negotiations if possible.
Slow and steady was the pace set by the Aedels of Waebury it would seem. Their shelter was basic and their food roughly won. With rugged work and blunt tools they plied the earth for easy water that would no longer see them spending half their day trekking to one stream or another just to quench the thirst brought on by the salty taste of smoked fish. This was not a glamorous way of living, nor could one say that these same people were showing a creative brand of thinking that would give them a unique effect on the world that would spawn stories and legends as of yet. The Aedelfaari were simple humans going about their simple lives as far as an outside observer would see.
Eric ap Edrin did not see things that way. Like many minor kings before him his ambition outreached his ability but his mind was still at work and it found itself hungrily awakened by the music of the forest that he had seen work impossible wonders of magic. Surely their landing here and his choosing of this landing spot was another sign of divine providence. The angels themselves had guided his eyes to this forest and the strange creature within. The lord of the forest might be a wild creature that lacked the civilized airs of men but it had heard the songs of praise in the name of the divine and welcomed them. Perhaps it had been forgotten by the faithful or raised up from beasthood by some angel of the wilds but their encounter had shown Eric that there was a chance for an alliance between them and even hope that the creature might be brought into the fold of the faithful.
Relations were already proving fruitful between the village and the forest. Quite literally as of some mornings when they would awake to offerings of fruits and nuts and rambling stories from their children claiming to have seen animals emerging from the treeline with gifts. Then the storm came. The bear that had first met them upon their arrival in the lands of Aedelfaar had become a regular sight around the outskirts of Waebury and the intelligence that lurked behind its eyes was something Eric had first seen when he had met it again in the forest. Its watching of the well's construction and the sudden arrival of the storm that had smote several trees to the ground were too close to be a coincidence. This creature was the messanger and possible right hand of the Deerman. Some were distrustful of its coming and going but for now Eric gave the animals the benefit of the doubt. They had mostly kept to themselves and behaved amicably to them since first meeting, he would not sour the waters between their peoples over a matter of paranoia.
In fact he was considering ways of making them feel more welcome. Perhaps in the form of carving plaques similar to the carvings they had seen in the trees that announced who was welcome in the forest. If their was a way for them to cement this bond properly then Eric could beseech the Deerman to share the magic he used to encourage such verdant growth so that the Aedels might use it for themselves. It made perfect sense to Eric. This way they would be able to tend their own crops and patches of forestry without the need for the forest to deplete its own holdings.
Eric was just thinking on what to do with the lumber they had gained and how best to approach this diplomatic issue when a loud issue arose in the heart of Waebury. A messenger had come running from the workmen that had been sent out to gather up the fallen trees, panting and ragged with breath.
"The bear and wolves were roaring as if for battle! They looked on us as they did to the king and bid to follow. My kinsmen did so but I do believe they head for a fight!"
This was absolutely perfect. The chance ahead of them was clear as day to Eric. If they could muster a force fast enough and join with the forces of the wild then they would have earned the respect of battle brothers. The way ahead was clear.
With his golden hair flowing in the breeze, Eric ap Edrin descended from the hilltop with his sword raised high and his voice bellowing in a demand to be heard. The Aedelfaari had come from a land that was forged in war and the Grass Dog clan from which they descended had earned its name not just for farming but for the hounds they had bred for generations to serve as companions in peace and war. Sadly none could be brought along with the immigrants that would name themselves Aedelfaar but these old loyalties would be honored this day Eric told them as the men of his kingdom would once again rally their blades to stand before the wolves that had welcomed them here and Eric himself vowed that he would display a strength that would rival a bear.
The forest of Woodhenge (as they had taken to calling it) had welcomed them into the new lands of Aedelfaar and had even fed them in these early days when their future was so uncertain. Honor demanded they offer their aid in facing whatever threat had riled up the warrior animals of the forest. "Lest we shame ourselves and our ancestors before the eyes of the angels. With blade in hand and faith in heart I shall step forward into this battle and call out to all men strong enough to raise arms to join me!" Cried Eric to those assembled.
A Mighty cheer went up in Waebury as a militia was hastily assembled. The newly name Huscarls that had followed their king into the woods were quick to join, as was their station in life now. After them followed strong armed workmen and youthful lads who thirsted for their first taste of adventure and glory. Hunting spears were taken up, along with hammers and axes, any tool that could serve as a weapon was swept up in the mad rush to meet whatever this unknown threat might be. By the time the militia was assembled and was marching for the forest it looked as if some iron hungry specter had swept through Waebury with the storm and stolen off with all that it could carry.
Arriving at the forest
The path made for them was easy enough to follow and the Aedels marched up the coastal path as swiftly as their legs would allow. When they finally found the place where their lumberjacks had followed to they did not find what Eric had expected. He had thought to find some massive animal that had stepped out of line or another animal person that was seeking to lay claim to the current lord's seat... perhaps a wolfman of some kind.
He did not expect to find the animals forming battle lines against a windswept group of angry looking sailors. Suddenly the picture was becoming clear to him. The storm the deer had summoned to knock down the gift of trees must have caught this ship unawares and wrecked them here on the shore. Eric couldn't honestly say that he might not have drawn his sword and rallied his troops as well if he found himself shipwrecked and surrounded by wolves.
Growls and howls to one side of him and battle cries and rattling sabers to the other. Yet the gutted giant of a ship that lay beyond. Once again his sense of avarice was awakened with the knowledge that today he could solidify his alliance with the forest lord and claim the remains of this ship and whatever else these sailors had in their hold for his own. Or he could have even more. These sailors were stranded here and would owe him their lives if Eric could get them out of this mess they found themselves in and his future legacy as a wise and noble king would be even further secured.
With a wave of his hand Eric set his men to forming their own battle lines mixed in with the assembled packs and lone beasts of the forest, ready should battle be joined. Yet as he stepped forward he found the noble bear and since language was beyond them he could only ask with hand movements and with his eyes for it to stay its rage for now. With their force assembled Eric stepped forward, down the slope in order to separate himself from the crowd but not so far as to be beyond their help.
Striking his most kingly pose Eric shouted across the divide between the two groups, calling to the new arrivals. "I am Eric ap Edrin! King of Aedelfaar and neighbor to these lands! It seems you have found yourselves stranded here and the lord of this forest fears you to be reavers. I bid thee, lower your weapons and speak the words of peace. Blood need not win out this day and you have my word of honor, before the watching angels of the divine that if you lay down your steel and you may yet repair your ship and find friends in our lands. Should you refuse and choose violence then know that you will found yourselves outnumbered and swept into the unforgiving sea."
As Vlath stood their, half in awe of the great champion the Gods had delivered to them and half terrified of his own foolishness he turned to the remaining zealots and snapped at them "Return to the village at once! Find Vera and remove his foul tongue from his mouth and have him kept captive until my return! Tell the Bloodfangs to be on guard around the coast until the storms return in full strength! They are a blessing from the God's themselves!" after waving the zealots on with their task he turned to the great creature the Gods had placed before him. With a wail he said [color=DarkGray]"Great champion of the Gods! I beg the God's forgiveness for my foolishness! I will have myself punished for my misdeeds once the God's power is assured! Please, escort me to the final stone so I may reclaim it in their name!" assuming the void beast allowed him to continue Vlath continued his pilgrimage to the third and final stone in the hopes of keeping the threat from the deep at bay and securing the power of the Gods.
Vlath orders his zealots to return to the village to prepare the covenant for any potential attacks and to cut out Vera's tongue for being the one to suggest a heretical idea to him. Vlath attempts to make his way to the final stone after asking for forgiveness from the Gods
X) Survive Miksuin and Furrayn mobilise their warriors to keep the storehouse stocked with food, encouraging the people to return to their activities despite the ash.
Hiwcantar sets out with a group to see what's going on up in the mountains.
And when five days and five nights had passed, the ash showed no sign of abating. Soon even a big man like Hiwcantar found himself wading knee-deep in the ash, having to lift Tara onto his shoulder to prevent her from sinking in up to her chest. On his shoulder, Tara lifted a shield above her head to keep the ash at bay. The fields were buried in the stuff and the fishermen, full of fear and doubt, no longer rode the waters. Some of the smaller boats had sunk due to the weight of ash, and so Hiwcantar had ordered all boats be brought ashore and turned over. Though some brave souls were nonchalant in the face of this strange rain, covering their faces in cloth and going out to hunt and seek their livelihoods, these were but a few, and so the months spent storing food now proved a boon for there was enough food to sustain the populace for some time yet.
But not forever.
For some time Hiwcantar made his way through the ash before suddenly stopping as a violent wave of coughing and spluttering shook his frame. Tara patted his back gently and brought the wickerwork shield down to keep the ash from him. 'Keep it over your head, sweetest. Don't you worry yourself about me.' He managed, but she did not move the shield and her response was short and impassive. 'I'm alright, da.' With the coughing over, he continued onward towards the meeting house where many of the Tilaticantar elders and military men were gathered. A large number of riverfolk who enjoyed authority and status before had been, through a process of consultation, inducted into the council of elders. Those who saw Hiwcantar hailed him through the ash, and he quickly dusted himself off before entering the building. They all rose as the great chief entered, and they sat as he sat. Tara seated herself beside him, and her deep brown eyes surveyed all present.
'It is two days since last we met, and the ash yet falls and shows no sign of dying down.' The elders were silent as the chief spoke. 'Our stores sustain us yet, and though some homes have collapsed under the weight of the ash none have been harmed. I have visited the people and have ordered men who have no fear in their hearts to clear away the ash where it is dangerous - from rooftops and from entrances. I have not found enough people to clear the fields as well, and so they are buried beneath the stuff. The ash is not punishment from GREAT Cantar as some seem to think, but we will most certainly be punished for our cowardliness in the face of tribulation. Only those who dare are worthy, and only the worthy will be found deserving of GREAT Cantar's good graces. Remember these my words.' Opening his palms to those gathered, he then invited them to speak. 'I am seeking your counsel before a decision is made, so how do you advise?' 'There were three voices when last we met, Hiwcantar,' said Virimdantar, one of the chief's uncles, 'Oiqulm proposed that all the riverfolk return to their home villages and remain there, as that is the manifest will of Cantar, and that "those who came from the Great Yellow Scourge should return to it". Old Howandar suggested this is a sign that we should not sit on our laurels - the Mewaris remain and GREAT Cantar clearly wants us to depart from here and fight them one final time. That is the source of this brief discomfort. Our brother, Ingantir, called out the foolishness of those who seek to speak for GREAT Cantar when you are his word and he has said naught. And that son of Fuldondar there, in whose eye is the very same battle-crazy as shone in his father's eye, wishes to scale the distant mountains and face whatever blazing hulks may be.' Hiwcantar nodded. 'Yes, and I have thought long on what was suggested to me before. As for Olquim's notion that all riverfolk return to their villages of origin so as to regain the favour of GREAT Cantar, that is the essence of foolishness. As for old Howandar's suggestion that this ash is GREAT Cantar's sign that he wishes us to destroy the remaining Mewari utterly, I am with my uncle Ingantir - those who seek to speak for GREAT Cantar when I, his vessel, am amongst you are better off remaining silent. GREAT Cantar has not spoken and has given no sigh of anger or displeasure. He is not one who punishes without warning or reason. That this is not punishment is clear, and those who seek to speak for the god speak best by retaining their silence. There will be no return to what was before, and there will be no needless assault on the Mewaris. It may surprise the weak-hearted amongst you, but I find myself leaning towards the words of that made-eyed son of Fuldondar there. In the words of Guldandar, though he is driven by nothing other than the battle-crazy, is some wisdom. I would climb the distant mountains where these fire giants are said to dwell, and there seek communion with GREAT Cantar. His advice and guidance is best of all, and so shall all suffering be lifted from us once more.' Hiwcantar made to rise, but then the voice of Oiqulm rang out.
'You speak and promise much, Hiwcantar! You promised us before that brotherhood would bring us prosperity - it brought us war and strife! You promised that victory would bring peace and glory - it has now brought us nothing but divine fury and punishment! You promised courage that courage would bring the grace of GREAT Cantar - but were we not promised that grace aforetime? Are you not his chosen? Where are his words and assurances and promises now? Or has he abandoned you? And you promise now that you shall go and commune with GREAT Cantar and seek his guidance - but did you not promise aforetime that he guides you always and will be pleased with us forever if we are obedient and worthy? Have we been anything but?! This is the truth Hiwcantar: we tasted suffering before your coming and we have tasted it since. And so your promises are fallen flat. We have given and not been niggardly in giving, but there is only so much you can ask of us, so much suffering we can bear for empty promises and words. Leave us be, man!' And cries of anger rose up at Olquim's repugnant words, though here and there were what seemed to be murmurs of agreement.
'Why, miserable wretch!' Hiwcantar declared, and Tara turned her eyes on old Olquim and surveyed him with cool disinterest. 'Your words reveal little more than your lack of gratitude, old man. What suffering is there now compared to what was before? Have the three thrice-blessed months not been kind since our victory? Has there not been food in abundance? Why, you have known more prosperity and abundance in these thrice-blessed months than in the entirety of your miserable life - yet you dare speak of suffering and of sacrifice? You speak of my broken promises - yet what but the fulfilment of those very promises keeps you fed even now? Even now that fishermen do not fish and the fields are suffocated by ash, what feeds you, old man, but the prosperity of these bygone months? Have some shame! Why, you are one who causes the shoe to cry out, should it strike your face, "for what sin am I struck?" Away with you and your words of poison. Leave us be says he who has little power or strength! - I can leave you be, old man, in the Great Yellow Scourge or in the midst of the Sea of Souls; what use will your viper's tongue be then? If you can speak no good then say nothing, I have only so much patience - and though your tongue may be as the viper, know that mine is as the cobra snake-eater!' Olquim seemed more irritated than afraid, however, and his scowl spoke as much - but his tongue, for all the old man's scowling and huffing, remained silent. 'Then to the mountain I shall go, if none object.' And none spoke out against this, though a number looked to Hiwcantar with no small degree of astonishment and fear.
And so with the decision made that the great chief would travel to the mountains, preparations were made. Hiwcantar gathered ten of Tilaticantar's finest warriors to him, the mad-eyed Guldandar amongst them. Tara - who adamantly refused to be separated from her father - was part of the company also, despite Hiwcantar's sincere attempts to have her remain. Miksuin and Furrayn were left in charge of the great town's defence and ensuring peace and order until Hiwcantar's return. And so, their faces covered, spears and wicker shields at hand, and long cloaks trailing in the ash, they crossed the Tala and set out along it towards the Tala's source and the distant mountains north.
For their part, Furrayn and Miksuin would endeavour to keep order and, increasingly, would have their warriors - wearing their shields as wide-brimmed hats to keep the ash away and covering their faces with cloth to avoid breathing the foul stuff - venture out to the Tala and further down the river in search of fish and other river creatures for their storehouses. The ash could continue for a long time, and they had to be absolutely prepared for that. Hiwcantar's defiance in the face of the strange rain encouraged these warriors to be both brave and worthy in the face of the unknown - to live on despite the storm. And both Miksuin and Furrayn would see to it that the people came to exhibit such bravery also, for themselves, for the people, and for the good place Tilaticantar.
((No turn 5 post; your stuff is frozen until you post again.))
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 146 men, 143 women, 75 children. Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to about 30% of adult population. Food level: Average; improving Resources: (Potentially magical) moon fungi Wealth: Nonexistent Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Low; impacted by racial traits. Morale: Average Foreign relations: Brotherhood of the Moon's Wise Children: Friendly
The Lycan Covenant
The zealots around Vlath nodded at his command and raced off to seize Vera. On their way back to the village, they came across the shattered remnants of the first obelisk. A nearby hunter claimed to have witnessed what happened, and he described near exactly what the zealots had seen earlier when Vlath claimed the second stone: a skeleton buried beneath the monument had erupted from the ground and taken form as a void monster, but this one had immediately made its way to the sea and trudged into the depths with purpose. Doubtless the gods had sent that champion to help stall the advancing tide of monsters out there. But in any case, the zealots quickly told the hunter of their orders to arrest Vera, and he joined them on journey back to Wulfshelm.
As in for Vlath, the formless black visage of the void monster fixated upon his face. Its empty eyes stared with an impassiveness that betrayed nothing, and even as Vlath tried to beg it for forgiveness and offer explanation, it said nothing. It equally offered no answer when he asked for its assistance in going to the next stone, but when Vlath finally broke eye contact with the monster and set out, he turned to see the champion following about five paces back. It remained utterly silent, its steps producing neither sound nor footprints. So the strange duo traveled for several hours until they came upon the third stone, and then Vlath began his work claiming this one as well.
Much like before, the black cracks spread like wildfire across the obelisk's surface while a fount of eldritch power surged out from within. The Voidcaller was ready this time when the stone exploded, but even as he took cover from the flying bits of stone and the worst of the magical fallout, the power of the gods dragged him once more into the plane of dreams. The Void Gods spoke to him yet again, every word wracking his mind and shaking his sanity.
Ẇ̵͓̳̈́E̵̙͙͗ ̷̨̺̅̏D̴̡̍Ô̷̭ ̵̢̗̐̊F̶̧͈̀O̷̡͑R̷͓̜͂͌G̴̛̭͊I̸̠̒V̸̖͍͌Ē̵̟ howled one of their deafening whispers. Ö̷͕̝́̏R̶͓̽ ̴̨͕̆̈F̵̟͖͘O̸͎̓̾R̸̞̠̿͌G̷̘͝Ĕ̴̢T̸̫͖͂
The throbbing of his head intensified until it came to a climax and he could feel the icy shards of each syllable piercing him with utter clarity.
AND YOU WILL EARN OUR GRACE ONCE MORE, OR YOU WILL COME TO KNOW THE TRUE MEANING OF DESPAIR.
YOU ARE SURROUNDED BY ENEMIES, AND WE ONLY GUARD YOU FROM WHAT STIRS BELOW THE SEA; UPON THE LAND WE SEE THOSE WHO BUILT THESE STONES, AND WHEN THEY LEARN OF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO THEIR WRETCHED STONES, THEIR RAGE SHALL BE TERRIBLE.
BY THEIR HANDS WILL YOU COME TO KNOW PAIN AND SUFFERING AND DEATH, AND IF YOU SURVIVE THIS TRIAL, YOU WILL BE STRONGER. PROVEN. MADE WORTHY ONCE MORE.
Vlath was banished from the dream. The thunderous voices of his gods gave way to the sensations of true thunder and his own drenched fur, and as he came to his senses he saw that the storms had grown even more powerful. This third stone had seen his gods empowered once more. As he rose to his feet, he saw that there now stood two void monsters before him, the new one having crawled out from beneath this third stone. From what the gods had just told him of yet another enemy, it seemed as though the covenant would need the two champions. This path of faithful worship had granted them great power, but it was coming at a considerable cost. But now it was far too late to change their path, so they would have to steel their resolve and make preparations.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 134 men, 133 women, 61 pups. Livestock: Small number of rabbits Military: 2 void monsters. Militia able to be conscripted up to about 30% of adult population. Food level: Slightly below average; being improved Resources: Lumber (low quantity; increasing) Wealth: Nonexistent Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Low; impacted from food level and morale. Morale: Low; due to endless rains Foreign relations: None
Attolia
After much effort, the aurochs had finally been domesticated to a point that they could be called cattle rather than wild beasts. The cows had become docile enough to allow the Attolians to take their excess milk (though it was still almost exclusively wood elves that were brave enough to do this) and the bulls no longer attacked unless truly provoked. Their food situation was now considerably better, and if that wasn't cause enough for celebration, distributing the fifty pounds of gold had been met with much happiness as well. It seemed as though things were now truly going well for the Attolians in this new home. Salvdal did not seem much perturbed by the greater society's rejection of his mentality regarding the spirits, and now the only true debate was what was to be done with the cattle. Many among the Attolians wanted to use the gold bestowed upon them to buy some of the animals, and some of the especially skilled craftsmen (and hunters, like Salvdal) had already earned considerable amounts of money and stood to be able to purchase a large portion of the cattle. Others thought that the cattle would be best kept as a communal resource owned by the entire tribe, and some of the wood elves meanwhile argued that since they had been the ones to domesticate the animals, they should be the ones to the own them. All of these disputes would have to be sorted out in the next Communion.
But then there was the festival of lights. Lady Saphira and the other shamans put on a display so great that even some of the animal spirits came as an audience, and as all had hoped, some of the animals seemed so enthralled that they chose to stay as guardian spirits. They walked day and night, unseen by most, but a discerning and faithful eye could draw comfort from the occasional glimpse. With such success, it was not long before an even more grandiose performance was requested, but this time there was a different outcome. There were not just animals drawn from the spirit world, but even some lonely shades that took the shapes of elves. Some looked among the spirits and claimed to recognize their own ancestors, and almost all immediately fell to their knees in reverence...all except for Lady Saphira. She reached out to one of the shady spirits, and it reached back with a spindly finger...
Caelis had only a split second to react.
A) Stop her immediately; you don't know what forces you're dealing with, and this could be dangerous. B) Trust in Lady Saphira, it looks as though she's about to become one with the spirits of her ancestors! X) Other.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 132 men, 132 women, 71 children. Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Livestock: A large herd of cattle Food level: Above Average Resources: Horses (A small number) Wealth: 250 pounds of gold; some precious jewels Trade: Some internal trade, facilitated by currency Growth:Average; impacted by racial traits, good food level, and good morale. Morale: Above average (from treasure) Foreign relations: None
The ap-Cantar
The company of eleven, and Tara, travelled for long. With their faces covered and the wicker shields providing cover, the ash was not too troublesome, and so long as they followed the Tala they knew they were heading slowly but surely towards the mountains. And when they passed by the ruins of the village of Sit, Hiwcantar declared that on their return he would see to it that the town was restored and its fields sown and its waters filled with fishermen again. Not long thereafter they crossed town of the Mewaris, though the great River Tala was between them and the ash rain too thick for its inhabitants to see ten travellers and a child. And Hiwcantar declared that the ultimate fate of the Mewaris was destruction, though they knew it little.
They continued upriver for many days, and the more they travelled the deeper the ash became. They pressed on, trudging through the ash and passing the occasional cluster of adobe hovels and other small villages. Even with the ash rain they could sense the change in their surroundings as the land grew rockier, less fertile, less populated and more savage. This far up the Tala, the great floodplains and rolling hills of Tilaticantar gave way to plateaus and crags. Their progress was slow due to the ash and the rugged terrain that they traveled, and their journey would be a long one for it was said that it took many days to follow the river all the way to its head at the center of the world.
In these sparse lands, some of the lone dwellings and villages were abandoned. The inhabitants had perhaps been among those that joined the Mewari so long ago, or had perhaps succumbed to disease or hunger and died alone for living without any neighbors or community. To the living it mattered little; Hiwcantar and his men took shelter in the abandoned homes that they came across and were grateful for the respite. Here, closer to the mountains, the ash was significantly deeper than in distant Tilaticantar. Though the low rumbling had ceased by the end of a fortnight and the rains of ash began to dwindle, the land here was still buried and suffocated. It had been well over a week's hard journeying, and yet they were still not even close to the Tala's head or to the heart of those mountains where the fire giants dwelled and from whence the ash spewed. The land was bare of animals of any kind, and the ash buried even the hope of vegetation, and so they subsisted largely on what good the ever-giving Tala offered them. When the group made camp after a long day's travelling - and the ap-Cantar were masters of such things - three men would immediately take rods and nets and begin fishing. There were more dead and withered trees here due to the hotter ash, their branches broke easily and made good firewood. Some nights they ate fish, other nights they found themselves chewing on lizards or frogs. On one particular occasion the tall lithe warrior called Sruga managed to bring in a monitor of truly monstrous proportions, and they feasted on that. The Tala was indeed a kindly and giving mother, worthy of veneration were it not so that GREAT Cantar alone was worthy of such things.
No one had ever reached the Tala's head and returned, of this salient fact the riverfolk had many evidences and proofs and tales - tales of the foolishness and arrogance of those who thought to challenge the river and the giants at the mountaintops. But Hiwcantar had no fear of such things - his heart flowed with the blood of the mighty, destiny marched in step with him, and wherever he turned his gaze surely - surely - the world itself would give way and surrender its secrets and allow him what it allowed none before. He would reached the head of the Tala and the 'centre of the world' that the riverfolk spoke of, and the world would yield willingly to him...
So it was that they eventually came upon Qidra, the last of the Tala's riverside villages. Beyond Qidra there were only great waterfalls, jagged mountains, and (if the riverfolk's legends were to be believed) a great cave whose bowels were the underworld and whose mouth was the source of the Tala. From a crag in whose shadow the village lay, Hiwcantar and his company observed Qidra for some time. There was very little ash falling now - the odd piece floated here or there like a lost sheep, and so the village could be seen clearly. Hiwcantar sent one of his companions, the tall riverfolk warrior named Sruga, to observe the village up close and make contact with its people. And so the lithe warrior descended, spear in hand and wicker shield atop his head. The people of Tilaticantar had taken more and more to wearing these shield upon their heads to protect against the ash, but Sruga had so grown to like it that he continued to wear it now even though there was no great amount of ash rain. As he approached the village he brought his flowing garments tighter about him and hailed a group of women busy washing clothes in the Tala. 'You there by the river!' he called out from a distance.
They turned and eyed him suspiciously, for these were dire straits and even in normal times it was not often that Qidra saw visitors. At least they did not run from the lone stranger, though. "Who are you, and what has brought you here?" an elderly woman answered. 'I am Sruga of Tilati, the final town before the Sea of Souls swallows the earth. I am travelling to the head of the Tala with my friends. We wish to know what has caused this black scourge,' and he gestured to the ash that even now suffocated the earth.
"You know as well as I that the giants are rousing; but we have offered them prayer and left tribute for them on the mountain slopes, and now their anger seems to have subsided." Sruga looked to the mountains and then back to the old woman. 'But if they are waking, as you say, surely this tribute you have given them will not calm them for long. We must travel and speak with them and see what it is that they want truly - for if they are displeased with you, all the people of the Tala will suffer when they descend with fire and fury. Are there any among you who know the mountains well and can mayhaps guide us?'
The girls and younger women looked to the older one that had spoken, but she only shook her head. "That is the talk of madness. Never before have the giants brought forth so much ash. This time it will not be one or two that have roused, but perhaps all of them! The wise will flee down the river; we shall abandon our homes and do so as soon as it is safe." Sruga frowned at this. 'Lady, you seem to be the authority in this here town. On the mountain there is the master of the people of the Tala. If you will walk with me a while he would speak with you. He is a man in communion with the greatest god, surely he will have wisdom for those who seek it.'
"It is my husband who rules," she answered with a scoff. "And he can be found in the largest hut." With that she gathered up the bundle of clothes that she had been washing. And the others did likewise, and then they all returned to their village. Sruga watched them go and, satisfied that this village posed no danger, rushed back up the crag and informed Hiwcantar of what the old lady had said. The ten men, and Tara, descended to the village and came before the great hut. The denizens of Qidra looked at Hiwcantar and a few of the other ap-Cantars with astonishment - not in living memory had they seen people whose skin was not as the mud of the Tala! 'This is Hiwcantar,' Sruga declared, 'lord of Tilaticantar, the town of GREAT Cantar. He is the great chieftain of the ap-Cantar, the one who forged the great union 'twixt the riverfolk and the ap-Cantar. He is the destroyer of Mewar the traitor, and he is master of the Tala and all who call it home. Whom he protects need fear naught, and whom he condemns have all to fear. He travels to the source of the Tala and to the the fire giants - if he finds them worthy he will speak with them, and if they are an enemy then he shall smite them utterly. He would speak with you and assure your fearful hearts.' Tara on his shoulder, Hiwcantar stepped forward and raised his hand in greeting to the man who now stood at the entrance of the great hut.
'I salute you - what are you called, chieftain?'
"Dawuut!" declared the elderly man. "And I know nothing of Cantar, nor Tilaticantar, and neither of this Mewar. But I do know that yours is a doomed mission, for you could never defeat the giants. Already we have overstayed our welcome, for their mercy cannot be bought forever."
'Know this, chief Dawuut: I have travelled far. I have travelled from where the great Tala spills out into the Sea of Souls; travelled from where the Tala herself ceases to be. Even there did ash descend from on high. Our suffering was surely nothing as to yours, but running will not save you from it. But here - if you are determined to flee, then make Tilaticantar your destination. There is food to be found and safety - only tell my people when you arrive that my journey continues and that I will return victorious. And do this for me also: grant me a brave child of this town - man or woman - who knows the mountains well and can be our guide. Do this for me and I will prove to you that he is not doomed who has GREAT Cantar at his back and in his heart.'
"I shall consider Tilaticantar, then. But we have no guide for you; I would not send one of my sons or daughters to their doom, and none know the mountains anyways. Already they call us mad for dwelling so close to the giants and underworld; those who have ventured farther than this have rarely returned. It is not a land fit for the living, much less for man." Hiwcantar looked around at the gathered denizens of Qidra and wondered if there truly was no adventuring and worthy soul that had dared climb the mountains and explore all they offered. 'Very well, chief Dawuut. Know that my request for a brave guide stands until the morrow. We shall make camp by the Tala and continue our journey at dawn. May GREAT Cantar protect you and guide you to safety - and if your hearts are bent on leaving, then do not delay; it is indeed the corruption of a judgement to delay.' And with that Hiwcantar and his companions turned and departed. Tara, seated on her father's shoulder, scanned the villagers with her dark brown eyes, her face betraying little emotion.
They ate silently and eventually the men went to sleep. Hiwcantar stayed by the fire and stoked it, glancing at the village from time to time. Tara slept peacefully beside him, his cloak around her. When the sun rose in the distant east, no guide had offered their services, and so the company ate and began the journey into the mountains and what the riverfolk thought was the underworld. Hiwcantar had no fear of this purported underworld, however. The only underworld was that ruled by GREAT Cantar, and that was the Sea of Souls. All would soon come unveiled, and the truth would manifest itself...
They went on for a day, hiking up the increasingly rugged slopes. At least some parts were so steep that the ash had rolled down before it could settle in very deep. There was a waterfall not far from Qidra, but without any knowledge of the land, it took half a day to simply find the remnants of a goat path and climb their way to the top. When they did, they prepared their night's camp on a bluff that seemed to overlook the entire world to their south. Or at least far enough to see the diminutive huts of Qidra down below. They rested when the sun fell, but then a glow roused their attention and they looked down to see the settlement aflame. Sruga looked to Hiwcantar with a degree of worry. 'Should we... go back?' The tall warrior asked. Hiwcantar frowned down at the sight, but it was Tara who spoke. 'They were cowards and unworthy.' It was a simple statement, and the damning indictment in it hung between them in the cold night mountain air for a few moments. Hiwcantar shook his head. 'We heard nothing and saw nothing. There was no attack by fire giants. The village was normal, and suddenly it was aflame. The only reason that comes to my mind is that the villagers burned it to the ground themselves because they are departing. It may be something else of course, but it certainly was not fire giants. We will rest as planned and continue our journey in the morning.' And so the others went back to sleep and Hiwcantar and Tara sat watching the burning settlement far below.
Their trek continued after dawn, the plateaus and crags giving way to true mountains, and wooded ones at that. Two nights later they saw numerous distant lights farther down the mountain pass, back where they had been on the previous night. Puzzled by this, for they had seen no lights at all in the nights before this, Hiwcantar sat and thought over what to do. As he watched, it looked as though the lights were moving. They steadily came closer, as if more or less following the very same path that the ap-Cantar had taken. Looking around, he gestured for the others to bring a great amount of wood and build a great fire. Once the fire was built he ordered them to disperse in the crevices and woods around, where they could see but not be seen. Though he attempted to make Tara go with Sruga, she adamantly refused to leave his side. And so, with his daughter at his side, feeding the great fire, Hiwcantar sat and waited for the lights and their people to arrive.
Throughout the night, the lights steadily came closer, though their pace indeed seemed to quicken once Hiwcantar had made a show of creating such a blazing beacon along the trail. As the lights came nearer, they could discern each individual one and recognize them as torches. They looked down the slope and Tara counted the torches: ten, twenty, thirty. Hefting his spear, Hiwcantar rose and looked at the approaching torches. Under normal circumstances he would have stood and waited, but his Tara was with him and the idea that those coming up may wish her harm caused him no small degree of consternation. He lifted Tara to his shoulder and walked a few steps up the mountain and lodged his spear beneath a large rock. If these fire-wielding people coming up did indeed mean them harm, he would lever the rock down into the blaze and escape upward. The others, watching from safety, would surely understand and do likewise. And the darkness of the mountain woodlands would grant them an advantage - to hunt at their leisure to hide for as long as they needed to. Breathing deeply, the chief steadied himself and did not allow his fear to show before his daughter.
They waited and watched as the approaching figures drew ever closer, and soon enough the faint silhouette of humanoid figures could be seen below, illuminated by torchlight. For every one that held a torch, there were two or three others around him; almost all seemed to carry a spear or bow upon their back or some smaller weapon at their side, and there was surely more than a hundred of these strange men climbing the mountain, more than the entire population of that hamlet called Qidra. And even with all the night's darkness, they could discern that in the middle of the line there were a great number of riverfolk bound to one another; their dark flesh in sharp contrast to the paler faces of they who carried the torches and weapons. But Hiwcantar on his high ground did not have the luxury of watching for long, as he quickly heard the sound of footsteps. A smaller group of the men were sneaking ahead of the rest with only the moonlight showing them where to step, and without the torches to betray their presence from afar, they had managed to nearly make it to Hiwcantar's fire before being detected. It was Tara who spotted them, for Hiwcantar was distracted by the great numbers he saw. 'Da, they're on us.' The girl whispered. Hiwcantar's eyes registered the prowlers in the darkness, and with a burst of power he heaved. The rock hurtled into the flame, sending out huge sparks and burning wood. It gave him a much needed distraction; without waiting, Hiwcantar turned and disappeared into the gloom above. Even as he quietly shifted directions now left and now right, now back to where he had been and then elsewhere, his quick mind thought on how to make the best of this grim situation. It was very likely that these - what, slavers? - knew how many were in his company - they had not made a great effort to cover their trail after all -, so there was little chance of tricking them into thinking there were more in his company than there truly were.
He ran up the mountain then doubled back and more carefully made his way in an easterly direction. Finding a crevice, he lay in it and listened, gripping his spear and ready to fight. There was shouting and cursing; he could tell now that these humanoid figures were indeed men, though they had a strange and foreign accent. The small group that had crept up to the fire under cover of darkness seemed to search the area for any hiding enemies, but none of the ap-Cantar were caught and the men didn't seem to look particularly hard. The main body soon caught up and came to stop for a few moments. From their hiding positions, some of the ap-Cantar could recognize the captive riverfolk as being the former inhabitants of Qidra. Some of the ragged and despondent people fell to their knees when their march was brought to a halt, where they wailed or panted or just rested in broken silence. But soon enough there was the sound of more shouting mixed with cries of pain, and then the army was on the march once more. It seemed as if they hadn't even taken the fire or the ap-Cantar ambushers as worth pursuing or as a serious threat. As they passed by where Tara and Hiwcantar were hidden, the two carefully looked up and watched the marching force.
A long procession of rugged-looking men walked by. Most had at least some sort of mismatched metal armor, though in many cases the pieces were visibly rusted or damaged. They had probably slain some enemies and looted the equipment for themselves. Others wore only the sort of light-colored and lightly weighed robes that desert wanderers favored. Near the middle of the procession, just a short ways ahead of the line of captive riverfolk, there was one man that stood out, if he even was a man. He wore a sort of garb that none of the ap-Cantar had ever before seen; it was a heavy black robe complete with a cloak and hood, though that hood was lowered and bunched up by his neck. He had a beard of long, scraggly white and grey hairs that might have betrayed him for a man of fifty or sixty, but his gait somehow seemed to have a youthful vigor and strength to it even after such an arduous hike. And from the way that all the others gave him a wide berth and the riverfolk seemed too terrified to even look at his back, Hiwcantar and Tara knew that this strange man was the leader of these bandits.
His forward pacing suddenly came to a halt when he felt their eyes upon him. He turned to look into the woods, gazing right for Hiwcantar and Tara, and they caught but a glimpse of his eyes before they ducked out of sight. The two baleful orbs had glowed red like dying coals. The mere sight of the man caused an immediate sense of dread to well up within Hiwcantar. There was no doubt in his mind that those two red eyes had a great deal to do with the burning of Qidra, and he had little desire to burn tonight. Grabbing Tara, he leapt into the undergrowth and made a swift escape from the crevice. He had the strange feeling that at any moment now the woodland and rocks around them would burst aflame - though perhaps that was simply the effect of seeing those two strange eyes.
They remained hidden until morning, and when the sun rose Hiwcantar and Tara slowly and carefully made their way back to where their camp had been. The others were waiting there. 'By GREAT Cantar,' Sruga said, 'who were those?' 'Looked like slavers to me,' Guldandar said, and the others murmured their agreement. Tara mentioned the strange man and spoke of a nightmare. She had been in an utterly dark place, but it was stiflingly hot rather than cold, and damp like some cave. But then in the dark, there had been two great, burning red eyes that had appeared. They had scared her even more than the robed man's, but by instinct she had laid utterly still and silent. In her dream the eyes could not see her, and eventually morning had come and she had awoken. And to give her story credence, Hiwcantar had indeed noticed that his sleeping daughter had appeared nearly comatose until the moment that she had suddenly snapped awake once more. He questioned her on these eyes - to what kind of creature did they belong? Did she know where these eyes were? Were they a thing of the spirit or the physical world? Tara shrugged.
'I don't know da. They were big. Big as a man's head. They were... more monstrous than the man's eyes.' Frowning Hiwcantar sat down and wondered at the meaning of all this. The Qidra chieftain had told him that few had ever returned from these mountains, that the mission was doomed. Then that monstrous being and his army had sacked the village (though Cantar only knew from where they had emerged). And now Tara was having visions of a monster with eyes the size of men's heads. Were anymore signs needed that only danger lay ahead? His eyes hardened and he gripped his spear. 'We are not a coward race. GREAT Cantar looks with favour only on the worthy.' And so lifting Tara to his shoulder, he gestured his men forth. The journey to the heart of the mountains would go on, and GREAT Cantar would find them worthy and guide them.
Aware of the danger the mountains offered, the group now progressed more carefully. The great trail left by the marching army ensured that their own trail was hidden, but despite this Hiwcantar had the group take extra precautions so that their presence was nigh imperceivable. Tara continued to have the visions of the eyes, and Hiwcantar would hold her close every night, whispering prayers and words of comfort. When she awoke, however, her eyes were steely and she did not let show her fear. As they went farther into the ranges, the mountains themselves seemed to grow more primal and savage. The flora and fauna were more vicious and so the ap-Cantar band stuck together out of an abundance of caution. Food and water were beginning to grow scarcer as well.
After several more days of travel, it seemed as though their luck was being tested once more. During the night they heard a distant shuffling, and soon their ears could discern the sound of sniffing. Heavy footsteps approached their camp, and in the moonlight they could see a hideous beast.
Hiwcantar stood and put the deathly, still dreaming Tara behind him. He gestured for the others to fan out and stand at the ready. 'Hail, you who walks in the moonlight,' Hiwcantar called out, 'friend be ye or foe?' His grip on his spear tightened, and he prepared for the worst.
"Hwagh!" the red beast roared as it leaped closer and brandished its crude weapon. Hiwcantar flinched and almost struck out, but the creature then said something he understood. "Little humans!"
The beast's burning eyes found its way to Tara, even as she lay on the shadowy ground in her deep slumber. "She has His mark, I smell it," he grunted, "but the rest of you look like good meat!" Hiwcantar's nostrils flared and he scowled. 'Our meat is good for one thing alone, demon - choking your ilk!' And so saying he leapt forth and struck out, and his ten warriors likewise advanced. Hiwcantar's first lunge missed, as the pot-bellied beast moved quickly for all its bulk. Then even as it used a few wild swings of its club to fend off Hiwcantar, the beast suddenly curled its empty hand into a ball. Fire instantly took form in its palm, and from the gaps in its fist there were were a few glowing embers. That brief glimpse was the only warning that Hiwcantar's men had before they too tried to strike, but the demon was ready. It hurled flames as a child hurled fistfuls of sand, but these flames were a deadlier thing and fended off his assailants.
Yet even though they had put it on the defensive by striking first and with their greater numbers, the monster hardly seemed afraid of the ap-Cantar. It broke into some savage fit of what seemed to be hissing and coughing, but to their horror, the ap-Cantar soon realized it to be laughter. "You put up a good fight when one wild oni comes! But what would you do against ten of His warriors?"
'You gloat much about this "Him", demon, but it is clear you are little more than a rogue. Pray tell, what would this "Him" do to the likes of you if you were brought before it?' Hiwcantar and his warriors circled the oni even as the chief spoke, ready to dodge anymore of the flames and strike again if the creature showed anymore signs of aggression. To its credit, it didn't let any circle around to its back, and it held the many humans at bay with a few wide swings of its club. "He might try to make me join his army, cut me up into little bits if I run away. But I wouldn't stay dead! Not like soft humans!" 'Ah! So this "Him" is not a friend of yours I see - an enemy perhaps? A tyrant? Why do you not serve this "Him" as the other warriors do?'
The questions seemed to be quickly irritating the boorish creature. "Not fight for kings! Not share with others!" Hiwcantar realized that the creature wasn't even looking straight at him, more over his shoulder. He followed the gaze and found the beast's stare directed upon Tara's deathly still form. But then all the noise seemed to do something, and she shifted over in her sleep.
The burning red eyes still flitted back and forth, peering through the darkness. Tara endured his nightmare silently and as fearlessly as she could, willing herself to remain deathly still and hardly even breathe lest the great monster's eyes find her. She had to shut her eyes and wait just as she had done for the past nights, waiting until she felt morning's sun and knew that she was once again in the world of the awake. Only then was she safe from Him.
So she waited, but in the back of her mind, she could hear the voice of Hiwcantar. There was a din, and...shouting...
"Da'," she murmured just barely loud enough to be heard. She instantly realized her mistake and brought her hands to cover her mouth, but by then it was too late. She didn't need to open her eyes to see the two blazing coals staring into her; their glower was bright enough that she could see and feel it even as she brought her hands up from her mouth and tried to cover her eyes.
"There you are," she heard. The words were only whispers, but even in that low voice she could discern the tone of a diabolical rumble. She was still for a few moments, her hand trembling and her lip quivering, and she remembered with sudden clarity the mind-numbing fear that had gripped her when the man she had killed stepped into the adobe home. Clenching her fist and pursing her lips, she opened her now-hardened eyes and stared into the demon's eyes. 'I am not afraid,' she said simply, and the words gave her conviction even though her heart was hammering and she could barely stop her hands from trembling again. 'I am not afraid of you!'
"Good," the voice purred back, no longer so quiet. The darkness had impeded her perception and she hadn't quite realized just how far away the monster had been, but as the eyes grew larger she could tell that it was coming much closer. Its heavy footsteps echoed upon the hard floor as it kept coming closer. "You have a fiery spirit about you that I like. There is potential in you, and I can help you find it. What is your name, child?" She resisted the voice at the back of her mind that screamed at her to turn and flee, to find anywhere, any rock or stone under which to hide. But she culled her fear and stood steadfast as her father had taught her. 'My name is Tara, daughter to Hiwcantar. GREAT Cantar protects my people and me. And what is yours?' "This 'Cantar' that you esteem is nothing but a departed memory, his protection imaginary. But I am real, and mine endless! I have become the Kunshu, king of kings, and my former name means nothing now. But you, Tara, have a name with power. And now there is a bit more power to it! So return to the one that you called father; we shall meet again soon." 'If your name means nothing, then that is all you are and all you'll ever be. You say GREAT Cantar is merely a departed memory, but how can you be anything without memory? And can you have power if you are nothing?' His echoing laughter shook the dark hall with such force that it roused her back into the waking world.
Tara opened her eyes. She was still for a few moments, noting the cold ground... and the lack of her father near. 'Da?' She cried out and sat up, and she saw the large demon and the eleven warriors fanned out about it. 'I'm here sweetest. Are... are you alright? You moved.' She jumped up and closed the distance between Hiwcantar and her, grabbing a fistful of his clothes with a hand. 'I'm alright da. Is this a fire giant?' She gestured to the oni, and he flinched just a little bit from it as if afraid of some power behind the motion. His gaze had been following her unblinkingly until that moment, and he let out a sudden growl. It was the only warning Hiwcantar had before the creature grabbed him from behind and threw him to the side. He approached her and said, "Little namanari, He's gonna want to see you. He might reward me if I take you to him, so come with me! I serve the oni kings again just this once!" Tara scowled and backed away. 'No, I already saw him.' She turned and ran to Hiwcantar, who was already rising to his feet. With Tara at his side again, he hefted his spear and threw it at the oni with all his might, and it buried itself in the beast's shoulder. It twisted its head to face Hiwcantar then, and roared, and charged as a wounded beast was wont to do. Hiwcantar saw his warriors react, but he feared the beast's tremendous form would crush Tara if he allowed it to come too close, and so he let loose a great cry and charged at it also. It swept him off his feet with ease even as spears rained down on its back, and it fell upon him with tooth and claw even as Sruga and Guldandar leapt on it and speared its neck and the back of its head. After suffering what would have been enough injuries to slay five men, it finally let out a dying howl and fell upon Hiwcantar. But even as the unconscious chief was pinned and crushed beneath the body, the oni's blood began to coagulate and crystallize into sickly red pebbles, and its flesh and the organs that cascaded from its wound all began to slowly disintegrate into dust and ash. Still, the others pulled the unnatural abomination off their chief and looked to him.
The great chief was battered and bloodied and still, and Tara cried out in fear and great alarm as she came to him and tried to wake him. His shield, which had been covering his head, was torn to shreds and there were clear gashes on his bearded face and atop his head where the demon had torn into him with abandon. His shoulders and chest had been shorn by razor talons, though as luck would have it his neck was free of major wounds due to Hiwcantar having brought his arms up to protect it. When Sruga felt for a pulse, he found that it was weak but defiantly there. They swiftly got to wiping the blood away from the unconscious chief and stitching up the wounds. Tara stayed by him throughout, her lips pursed and her brown eyes wide - they would from time to time glisten with the promise of tears, but before any could blossom her eyes would harden and any nascent tears would shrivel away. The night was dark and there was no fire, and the ap-Cantar sat around their chief and prayed that he would awaken.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 161 men, 304 women, 124 children. Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 40% of adult population. Food level: Above average Resources: None Wealth: Nonexistent Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Average (influenced by food level and recent events) Morale: Below Average (Discontent due to ashfall) Foreign relations: None
The Mustaqilun Tribe
For several days the shamans prodded at the firestones and examined the properties of the mysterious gems. The things weren't especially conductive to any sort of magic that they shamans tried to cast, but they nonetheless began to grow aware of a dark aura that the things gave off just as much as they radiated heat. It was something dark and twisted, and it brought back memories of the Dark One that they had once served and of some of the horrible cursed weapons that been wrought from his forges. The gems were especially brittle and seemed to break and crumble into a dust if one tried to simply mine them or pry them from the cavern walls. Heating the dust (or the gems themselves) seemed to have little effect, though in all fairness they could hardly heat the gems. Lacking any true furnace and any fuel that burned hotter than firewood, the orcs had no means of smelting their newly mined copper, zinc, and arsenic; nor or experimenting with exposing these firestones to a high temperature. Some wanted to fell trees and then turn the lumber into great amounts of charcoal using large kilns.
But perhaps there was something else to be done...the shamans had noted that when the miner had cut himself upon one of the firestones and lost his fingers, a few drops of his blood had been smeared onto the stone. It was hardly enough to even see, yet that particular stone still glowed brighter than any of the others. So the shamans had one of the pigs slaughtered and poured a great deal of its blood upon the firestones, and lo and behold, they glowed a bright red and exuded an infernal heat that no coal brazier could ever hope to match. In that fiery state, the firestones also became malleable and nearly gooey. Eager to experiment further, one of the shamans cut his own hand and poured his blood upon the stones, and they glowed even brighter. It seemed as though the magical stones had a hunger for blood, but that they had their preferences and were not nearly as satiated by the essence of mere animals. Something in the back of the shamans' minds made them suspect that the blood of innocents would create an even more potent reaction.
But in any case, this strange reaction to blood had all but confirmed their suspicions that the stones were of a dark and possibly demonic nature. How they had come to be down there was an intriguing and somewhat worrying question, but brushing that aside, perhaps these firestones could be put to use fueling furnaces, or even worked themselves. Several of the smiths were eager to try working the strange substance into weapons, but they of course awaited permission from Rukdug and the shamans before attempting any such feat. One of the shamans returned to the surface to report his findings to Rukdug. He then quickly led the chief down into the depths of the cavern to demonstrate the power of the firestones, but lo and behold, they returned to the chamber to find...nobody. All of the other shamans that had been down there were gone, and all of the great crystalline firestones had been brutally smashed. The dust upon the floor was probably still usable now that they knew the secret of how it could be worked using blood, but the disappearance of the shamans was extremely alarming. There was no sign whatsoever of any struggle, and none of the miners in the tunnels above reported having heard any shouting.
Over the course of the next few days, there were two hunting parties that similarly seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth. After the incident with Morog, the tribe had been careful to stay in sizable groups and remain alert for any predators, so that so many could disappear so quickly was beyond alarming. Between the hunters and the shamans, there were fifteen missing orcs. Riverforge nearly immediately went on lockdown with none venturing far from the cave-dwelling or cliffside hovels and extra guards posted on the riverside walls. By night, the occasional howling of wolves could be heard; that was strange, since in all this time the hunters had neither seen nor heard many wolves in these parts of the mountains.
Some of the watchers even felt like they were being observed when they stood out there at night. Some whispered that this might be the work of demons, and other suspected it might be the vengeful ghosts of those child-like skeletons Rukdug had found, or perhaps the living kin of those creatures. After a few days there was one sign; near the walls, on the inside of Riverforge, a shiny metal object was spotted gleaming in the morning sun as the guards switched shifts. It was a small iron disc with a few sharp, symmetric protrusions on the sides. Was it an insignia? A warning?
And what was to be done?
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 178 men, 192 women, 89 children. Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 60% of adult population. Livestock: Numerous untamed boars Food level: Below Average; improving Resources: River stones (small amount; being gradually depleted), Firestones (magical gem/ore) (small quantity), copper, zinc, and arsenic (decent amount; not yet being worked or smelted into alloys) Wealth: Some semi-precious gemstones Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Low; impacted from low food level. Morale: Low; impacted by 15 missing people Foreign relations: None
Orr'gavol: The Hammersworn
Even in the dead of winter when the snows piled waist high, dwarven determination was a force to be reckoned with. On makeshift sleds they slow began to haul lumber and stone to the chosen site at the base of the mountain pass, and there the master masons and builders toiled to clear away the snows and begin to lay the foundations of a fortification. Rations were stretched and inordinate amounts of manpower were put into the project, but a steely resolve gave them the drive to work on. The Union of Silver were faced with an equally arduous task. If it was of any consolation, at least the iron mine had been a quick success. Large volumes of the ore were there in the mountain wall, but without the finished road there had been only small volumes of ore transported back to the hovel, and they still lacked the infrastructure to smelt and forge it into anything of use.
Construction of both the road and the mountain fortress was going painfully slowly and was drawn out for weeks, and then disaster struck. There was a shrill shriek that echoed from the mountain slopes above and recoiled upon the flats. The dwarves looked up and saw nothing more than dreary gray clouds bringing in snows and the faint silhouette of some sort of gargantuan bird. But as they looked closer, they realized that the bird was flying at an incredible height, and even still it looked huge. It circled high above their fortress just once, leering down with an ominous gaze that made some quiver. And then with a second shriek, it suddenly went into a dive, and as it neared them they could see that it was an eagle of ungodly proportions.
It moved so fast that it was nearly a blur, and in its first swoop its seized up one of the masons in its cruel talons. Then, completely unhindered by his weight, the bird soared back up and then dove down once again.
The proud dwarves were reduced to mere animals, to prey; they screamed and scattered like insects, taking shelter beneath trees or trying to lie flat and bury themselves in the snow to hide from the beast. One heroic lumberjack, brave to the point of stupidity, tried to hurl and axe at it. The bird buffeted the flying thing away with one mighty flap of its wing, and then it was suddenly upon that warrior skewering him upon its beak and hurling the dwarf's disemboweled carcass through the air. It seized another two, then began to fly away towards the gap in the mountains. There no less than five of the miners had heard the bird's cries and climbed out of the mine's tunnels to see the commotion. Left exposed on the narrow path, they had nowhere to run when it flew straight for them. It grabbed yet another in one of its talons, then used its wings to batter the other four off the cliffside and down into the ravine below. Then there was suddenly another unnatural sound growing in intensity.
From within the grips of the beast's cruel talons, young Kadol writhed and struggled to no avail. He and the other three dwarves looked down in terror and despair, thinking this their end, but then the strange sound grew so loud that it shook the sky. The bird shrieked in pain; Kadol looked down to the path, and sure enough, he saw the faint outline of Godrim Thunderhowler. The wraith was living up to his name by bellowing like an enraged bear. He didn't stop to catch his breath nor seem to fear the great bird; instead, the bird seemed to fear him. Godrim's deafening and ghostly battlecry made every living being upon that mountain shiver to their bones as it conjured a cold worse than the harshest blizzard. The bird shrieked once again, this time in pain, and its grip loosened just enough for Kadol's thin body to wriggle free. As he fell down, time slowed to a crawl and he shut his eyes and prayed, and then he struck a snow-covered slope and began tumbling down the mountain. Somewhere along the way his head struck the forlorn bone of some long-dead troll and he lost consciousness, but he didn't stop rolling until he came to the very bottom of that canyon full of trolls. There he lay for many hours, until he finally was found and shaken awake by those surviving miners that had stayed within the shaft. And sure enough, Godrim was walking down there with him. The ghost looked especially faded and almost as ragged as Kadol himself, but he still had a jovial tone to his shaky voice.
"Aye, you ever try goin' to the mountain creeks and pannin' for gold, lad? With luck like that ye'd find a nugget the size of your hand!"
But Kadol of course wanted answers, so Godrim told him what he had already told the others. "Aye, 'twas no bird that grabbed you back there. I tried to save your friends, but my roar's maybe not so harrowing as it once was...least I managed to drive it away for now, but it'll be back. In my day it struck too, usually kidnapping women and children, but it's not too picky about what it kills. We called it the Abductor; the enemy seem to worship it. Always figured it's some kind of dark spirit that they worship as a god. No stopping the thing, 'cept with powerful magic. Its return is a bad omen indeed; if it stirs after all these years, I can only imagine that so too do the ice trolls...And now the Abductor has seen you, so they'll know."
Tirelessly, the historians pored over every ancient scroll, tablet, and disc that they could find. By the gloomy light of day or by the light of their hearths at night, they read on and on with a wild fervor. They sifted through every bit of esoteric knowledge and pointless history that was to be found, but there was nothing that told the secrets of runesmithing! Nothing of any use! Joron's hands were shaking; he now felt an even greater desperation and despair than when the foreman had confined him to that miserable cage. But then, among the very bottom of the pile, he found one ancient disc. He read it silently, then gasped, and then stood up and read it aloud with all the force that his voice could muster.
"To the sorcerer-king of those hills the howling winds called In grasping greed he crossed the mountains and found his doom. Lured by promises of might, by the ice king's deceit he was enthralled and so the greatest runesmith was forever bound in an icy tomb."
Some jumped to their feet immediately and proposed the unthinkable--an expedition over the mountain pass guarded by Godrim, into the lands beyond, in search of this legendary runesmith's final resting place. It was risky, for sure; they had no knowledge of what could possibly be on the other side, and if this ancient "ice king" had exploited a sorcerer-king's greed and to his doom, perhaps their greed would lead them to a similar fate. After all, if they were afraid of some ancient race of trolls that lurked beyond the mountain, was it really wise to range into the heart of the enemy's territory? Others grew pale as they saw an eerie similarity between that 'king' and the wraith that had called himself Godrim Thunderhowler; the disc said that the runesmith had been enthralled by the ice king, so was Godrim truly who he claimed to be? Or was he merely a pawn of the enemy that he claimed to hate? Still others were most intrigued by the mention of a "king of those hills". Perhaps if they had built their hovel atop the ruins of some long-gone kingdom of runesmithing hill dwarves, there would be some sort of ruins to excavate. If they searched their lands thoroughly enough, perhaps they would uncover something of use.
What was to be done? In the wake of the Abductor's attack, morale was low and they were growing increasingly desperate; should they continue mining and building by the mountain? And should they try to find more information from Godrim, or leave the wraith out of it, or perhaps even declare Godrim an enemy and try to banish him from the mountain pass?
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 216 men, 219 women, 104 children. (10 casualties suffered from the Abductor) Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Food level: Average; food stores decreasing Resources: Lignite coal (low grade; large amount, increasing), iron ore (none, has been discovered but not yet mined) Wealth: Nonexistent Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Average Morale: Shaken, due to Abductor's attack Foreign relations: None
The Aedelfaari
The sudden arrival of the Aedels certainly caught the attention of the sailors; they looked even more bewildered now, seeing the army of animals assembling with some ordinary-enough looking humans mixed in. When Eric approached, they brandished their cutlasses a little higher and a few leveled some sort of sticks at him; the king didn't worry much, taking the queer weapons for some sort of strangely designed spears or clubs. One of the sailors lined up on the beach stepped a short ways forward from his fellows, many of which had already begun to nervously back closer to the lapping waves. "I'm first mate Fairhair!" he called out, and this was met by some laughter from the Aedels who looked at the man's bald and tattooed head.
"Aye, we sail under Fusebeard's flag, an' he's the most fearsome reaver to sail the seas! You don't know who you're dealin' wit' if you think we'll lay down our arms and be robbed or captured by the likes of you! The Cap'n'll give you this one chance to scurry off with your beasts and leave us in peace; we've done nothin' to provoke you, but if you come lookin' for a fight, we'll shoot and hack 'til the sands are red!"
As if in rebuttal to the man's claims of peaceful intent, one of the bears roared, and the nearest of the Aedels looked to it only to find a wounded deer besides a mauled pirate that had no doubt been trying to hunt the beast.
And then the trees shook. Thud. Thud.
Something massive was approaching from within the forest, but the animals didn't seem disturbed as they opened a hole in the middle of their ranks. The pirates, meanwhile, were shouting and cursing in panicked confusion.
The men, Aedel and corsair alike, looked up and beheld a massive oak as it marched out of the forest with war glowering in its emerald eyes. Trapped in a web of twisting and gnarled branches that had tightened into a sort of fist, there was a man howling and struggling. The ent lifted that man high to slow him to all those assembled, but as it did so, the ent's grip slackened just enough for the man to free one of his trapped arms and hack at the ent's hand with a small hatchet. The tree itself roared; it made the deep sound of splintering wood, carried more rage than pain, and was loud enough that those all the way back in Waebury heard its echo. With a mighty heave the ent hurled the man forward into the spiked ram of the wrecked ship, and the pirate lumberjack flew with such force that he was completely skewered upon the huge spear-like protrusion. The animals started braying and advancing onto the beach, but atop the deck of the wrecked ship there was suddenly movement. A half dozen of the pirates rose from where they had been hiding, and they suddenly began to push forward a great iron tube to the prow of the deck.
Fairhair turned to the deck and yelled, "Cap'n Tusks! Whadda we do?"
A redskinned troll leaned over the edge of the deck and shouted back, "Keep 'em away from the ship! We'll deal wit' dat heap o' sticks!"
Things were going very poorly, and if Eric was to miraculously solve this with diplomacy, it would probably take more than some words. Throughout all of this he had heard no music nor seen any sign of the Lord of the Forest; the idea suddenly came to him to run, as fast as he could, to the center of the Woodhenge where that spirit made its home. Perhaps if he spoke to that spirit and pleaded on behalf of the ignorant pirates that knew not their transgression, something could be done. But on the other hand, if he fled now, he might look like a coward or a traitor...
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 206 men, 204 women, 91 children. Military: No standing military. Militia able to be conscripted up to 30% of adult population. Food level: Average Resources: Lumber (small quantity) Wealth: Nonexistent Trade: Nonexistent Growth: Above Average; influenced by food and morale Morale: Above average; returning to normal Foreign relations: Lord of the Forest: Friendly Fusebeard's Freebooters: Wary
Oguurec Dekaan
Joz scratched his head as he looked over at a distant goat. The dumb thing was eating some tuft of grass, oblivious to the mortal peril posed by the approaching goblins. "Now how are we gonna get that thing back over to those pens Stieq is building..." Joz murmured to himself.
"Don't worry boss, I got it!" one of the Kooch Hor called out. Apparently Joz had spoken a little bit louder than he'd intended. The young wizard raised his hands, and Joz's eyes opened wide. "What! No-"
BOOM!
The goblins cackled as they conjured explosions on the other side of the goat. The terrified animal fled from the deafening bangs and from the scattering rocks as fast as it could, charging straight towards the goblins. Joz barely jumped out of the way in time; the dumb animal nearly trampled him and gored him at the same time! But of course, the dumb plan had worked...while two of the mages chased that poor goat all the way back to the pens, Joz took the rest farther up the mountains to round up more of the animals. Naturally, when all was done and they'd gathered together a small herd, he made sure to tell the queen that it had all been his idea and his doing.
Now the issue was that the goats were incredibly scared of goblins and the occasional sound of explosions from their makeshift camp always sent the animals into a bleating panic. The goats kept trying to escape, and the goblins could forget about trying to milk the animals or butcher them through conventional means. The only thing that worked was blasting them to bits from a safe range, but that wasted a lot of the meat and didn't cook them very evenly. So it was probably a good idea to try domesticating the animals, but Joz had yet to devise any good ideas for how that might be possible. Explosion therapy wasn't working very well; rather than becoming acclimated to the booms, the goat test subjects seemed to be going deaf.
A) Improve food B) Improve military technology C) Improve infrastructure D) Improve culture E) Explore F) Improve resources/technology G) Prospect the land H) Expand military I) Take diplomatic action X) Other
Population: 198 men, 197 women, 78 children. Livestock: Small herd of untamed goats Military: 15 Kooch Hor mages. Militia able to be conscripted up to 40% of adult population. Food level: Below Average Resources: None Wealth: Nonexistent Trade: Nonexistent Growth:Average; influenced by low food and racial traits Morale: Average Foreign relations:None
Within a frigid fortress hewn into a rocky fjord and built from great slabs of stone and ice alike, there was a chamber heated by volcanic vents. The soil was just warm enough to sustain the life of nightshades and fungi and all the other plants that the witch found useful in her brews and rituals. Beyond mere reagents, the plants served another purpose. The presence of that small amount of life in such a desolate place was paramount, for the magic that she worked required the essence of living things. The Seith was a powerful magic, so to maintain the balance of the universe it of course demanded a great cost.
The hag looked up from her work as someone barged into her chambers. She already knew who it was; there was only one that was foolish and brave enough to intrude upon the chambers of a hag so powerful--her wretched husband. Their marriage had been one of practicality rather than love, but of course he had his uses.
"Tjatse," she croaked. The ice king regarded her with his cold eyes, then hefted two pitiful creatures down before her. "Angerboda."
"In my scrying, I saw three. So be it; three would be enough, but not two. Did you eat the third, fool?"
The massive troll let out a low growl that would have been terrifying to any mere mortal, but this was a giantess, a witch, and the daughter of a horrible sea god. She knew nothing of fear. So he fixed the eagle pelt upon his back and spat back, "You are not the only one that practices the Seith. I require the third for my own rituals."
To that, she laughed. "Still trying to awaken them? You should know by now that mine is the only way; your people are long gone. Accept it. They mean nothing; there are others to lord over."
B) The Union of Mithril, the Union of Copper and the Union of Phosphorous united to start development on the "Thunderhorn", a new weapon inspired by Thunderhowler's tactics to counter the threat of the Abductor. C) Half of the Union of Steel was called back from the mines to start work on improving the forges and smithies so that iron may be worked there in the near future. They were assisted by the Union of Gold. The other half of the Union of Steel, supported by the Union of Silver, would keep working on the road network to the western iron mine. H) The of Union of Bronze who were not working on the mountain fortress proposed a new law to force all adult dwarves of the Hammersworn to attend combat practice once every week. While this will slow production over time, the sudden appearance of such a colossal threat called for immediate response.
In the mountains to the west:
Kadol reached for his forehead and wiped it clean of sweat, leaving behind a trail of rapidly melting ice crystals that had formed on his raggedy goat-wool gloves. Despite the storm carving at the stones outside the mine and the freezing air inside it, the labour kept the young dwarf warmer than any hearth could make him. His mining helmet sat crooked upon his head due to the bandage on his head - one hastily tied after he was found unconscious by the troll skull. While the trauma was minimal, it would be best to keep the small wound out of the sharp wind. He shrugged some weariness out of his shoulders and picked up his pickaxe again.
"Kadol, our son." Kadol turned his head slowly and saw Qorr Coal's broad, rounded shadow in the tunnel behind him. The dwarf crouched low under the cave ceiling and waddled over. He handed Kadol a waterskin and a loaf of bark bread. The young dwarf gave a quite mutter at the ration, but a sharp snort and a stern nod from Qorr prevented it from becoming anything more.
Qorr nodded in approval. "I didn't just bring the bread, you see. Godrim Thunderhowler called for you. It seems he has taken an interest in you, son. Now, eat up and come along. He's waiting outside." Kadol raised a fair brow and gobbled the stale, boring bread up to the best of his ability. At least the waterskin held ale. He joined the larger dwarf and crawled out into the icy storm. While eyes saw no further than ten metres in this storm, Godrim's ethereal presence seemed to almost exist in a plane far more diverse than what mere eyes could see - even the blind could sense his presence. The dwarf flashed a ghostly grin of teeth, a few of whose neighbours had disappeared over the years.
"Ye're no whelp, lad, I'll give ye that. Lucky or no', that was a loooong fall - and 'ere ye're right back at work. How do you do it?"
Kadol was taken aback by the statement. It was uncertain whether it was the cold or the ghost he was talking to, but he felt his body tense up. He tried to formulate a sentence. In the meanwhile, Qorr dropped a low, "I'll leave you two be," and stepped back into the mine, pickaxe resting on his colossal right shoulder.
"Did ye freeze already? I swear, I've truly lost me concept of time..." the old ghost mumbled.
Kadol snapped to. "Of course not. I'm just a little tired, is all." The ghost waited patiently. "There is no secret. I wasn't that hurt by the fall, and so I could get back to work. Nothing much, our father." Godrim chuckled to himself. "Our father," he snickered. Kadol raised an eyebrow.
"What first made me realise ye was of me own kind was ye lot callin' me that very word. It made me realise the east never really did give up on ol' king Holek's faith in the ancestor gods. That's a relief. The days grew gray and sad in the hills when those rumours reached us, aye..." Thunderhowler's eyes turned to the storm and seemed to stare beyond the veil of snow on the wind. Kadol looked dumbfounded and stepped closer, raising his voice a little.
"No, you've misunderstood. Not even the Union of Copper believes in these... Ancestor gods. No one does. The gods -and- ancestors on the Golumnar, yes, but... It's merely a title we use out of respect for-..."
"Misunderstood, have I?" Godrim gave out an echoing cackle that Kadol could've sworn shook the mountain somewhat. "Nae, this ol' man has walked this world longer than any livin' dwarf, and I know clanspeak when I hear it." Kadol stuttered, "Clanspeak, our father?"
Godrim nodded. "Aye, laddie. Let me tell ye a bit about the Golumnar Clan..."
Back in the Hovel, in the House of the Union of Bronze:
The last of the dwarves were forcing themselves through the crack in the doorway, which door was blocked by snow. They popped into the room one by one, occasionally leaving behind strands of beard and hair hanging in the wooden splinters along the planks of the door and its doorframe. The reports of the recent affairs had just been presented, and that familiar sense of impending doom hung over the crowd like a blinding blanket, resulting in a cacophony of incoherent ramblings and arguments disguised as poor debate. Osman Slag attempted to quell the cacophony, but his words were mere puffs of air against the wall of panic in front of him. Khyber Tin was absent - the old dwarf had come down with a terrible fever in the cold. In his place was a young, bark-haired dwarf, a third of Khyber's age: the Hammermaster's assistant and personal apprentice, Roka. She looked utterly stunned at the moment, incapable of silencing the ruckus as her master could. In the end, it was Quana Forge of the Union of Steel who brought the room to silence by breaking one of the longtables in half with the strike of her gavel. She had been called back, along with a group of her unionists, for a purpose she still did not know - and she grew furious at the thought of leaving her people behind at the mercy of the Abductor.
"Be silent, you oafs!" she roared. "A little bad news and you panic like sheep before slaughter. What has happened to you all? Winter is barely here, but you've grown soft like old carrots. What happened to the skin of the Hammersworn, huh?!" She struck at the table once more. A dwarf sitting by her gave a low whimper. "Let's not forget that, no matter the harshness the gods have thrown at us, we've always persevered. Time and time again, we've stood against challenges like this one, perhaps worse than this one, and succeeded. We've-...!"
"Oh, shut up with your empty words, Quana. We've had bad winters, yes, but this Abductor is a whole new factor in the ever-decreasing chance we have for survival," Erima Rock of the Union of Phosphorous hissed. "Unless the Union of Copper has been keeping secrets from the rest of us, and they certainly have..." A collective snarl came from the Copper Union. "... We've never had to face this terror before. We've no records on how to defeat it, nor any weapons with which to do so, either. We must simply pull back all our miners and try to come up with a solution here."
"Can you not see that we need iron to -make- those weapons, Magister?" Quana snarled back and struck her hammer into a poor, splintered plank of what was once the fine table. Erima's lips carved a smirk on her aging face, and she took off her appraisal goggles, giving the glass lenses a gentle polish with the hem of her azure robe.
"But, dear sister, it appears I was wrong. The solution is right there - you'd slay the beast in but a mere strike! I mean, look at the mess you made of the table!" Quana's skin grew visibly red and her teeth could have ground gravel into sand. Osman lifted a hand, but could not say anything before Daven Glint of the Bronze Union stepped forward.
"The Magister may have a point," the grey-bearded, white-robed dwarf said. Quana would have tackled him to the ground had not her fellow Steel unionists held her back, but Daven lifted a palm of peace. "I did not mean her attitude, which, to be perfectly honest, Magister Erima Rock, is quite unbecoming of you." Erima Rock turned away with a huff. Daven continued. "I did, however, notice the strength in your blows, our daughter Quana Forge. As you all know, dear fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, the scale has tipped - and not in our favour. We all feel it; we all see it. The Duality has been off balance since the Calamity, and it is time to pull luck closer to us once more." He snapped his fingers and two other dwarves, both robed in white, came forward with a thick stack of paper held together by woolen thread, forming a coverless manuscript. They set it down on the central table, which was thankfully still intact.
"I assume that you are all familiar with our Lawscript." There came a collective sigh from the crowd. Daven chuckled. "Good. Good foreman Osman Slag, we beseech you." Osman rubbed his temples and looked up. Seeing all the eyes glaring his way made beads of sweat form on his face. He started his talking, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Yes?" he voiced. Daven nodded.
"Good foreman. As scholars and debaters of the philosophies and the laws of our people, we have come with a proposal to, if not handle, at least better reinforce ourselves against the Abductor menace. We propose a change to chapter on war and military activities in times of peace's paragraph ten." Osman groaned and waved a hand. "Which regards what?" he muttered loudly. "Regarding laws of conscription, good foreman," Daven said patiently. Osman leaned forward and rested his chin on his fists, his fat nose laying on top of his dirty knuckles like a potato on rugged soil.
"Very well. What would you like to change it to?" he finally said. Daven opened the manuscript and flipped through the pages until he reached the one he wanted. He snapped his fingers again and once of his assistants brought an inkwell and a pointy stick.
"We propose to add forced military training for all adults once every week. A day shall be chosen when no hammer strikes hot metal, but instead strikes shield and hauberk. Let every father, mother, sister and brother learn how to toss a javelin or swing an axe. We're used to banging at rocks that will never move unless we make them - we must broaden our skills and use them to better defend ourselves. Such is our proposal, foreman. What say you?" There was a long silence. Golaq Gold of the Union of Gold seized the moment and stepped forth, placing his lean, toned stature next to Daven's older, frailer one. He ran a hand through his golden beard and flashed Osman a grin of teeth engraved with beautiful markings and runes.
"Good foreman. While I absolutely agree with the Great Thinker's proposal to make us do all that running in the woods and stabbing at dummies and yadda-yadda-yadda, I must raise an important point. Halting all production for one day will severely damage production speed - which already is at an all time low for our people. Of course, defense is important, but what's there to defend if not our lives' works?" He shrugged and looked around the hall. There were occasional nods among the heads in the crowd. "I propose we find a different solution," he added. Daven nodded patiently and thanked Golaq for bringing his argument into the debate, to which Golaq smirked and bowed low, almost mockingly low, before the older dwarf.
"No, I prefer the Great Thinker's idea, Golaq. We can delay the production a little. It's not as if we have tons of ore to be worked at the moment. We can resume full scale production once the menace has been dealt with," Osman declared. Golaq, turning red with a mix of fury and embarrassment, merely straightened himself up, nodded and stomped back to his union. Daven Glint bowed before Osman and thanked him dearly. He made some corrections in the manuscript before dusting the ink with fine sand and closing the manuscript. He returned back to his union afterwards, followed by the two assistants who carried the Lawscript.
"However," Osman added, "I still agree that we must find an additional solution. Joron Scroll of the Copper Union, step forward." The old, white-bearded dwarf stepped forward and bowed before the foreman. He had a joyous look in his eyes that fit none of his usual characteristics. Osman motioned for him to speak and the Logmaster took out a newly written scroll.
"Firstly, good foreman, we would like to congratulate you. We have, indeed, found a clue about how to unlock the ancient art of runesmithing. In the long run, that may be a way to defeat the cruel Abductor. This 'sorcerer-king' may be our salvation, one to bring runesmithing back into this world and usher in our next great age. However, we must first thoroughly research the 'ice king'..."
"Ice king?" Osman inquired. "Is that some cryptic character your disks keep mentioning?" Joron cleared his throat and took out the disk from which his team and he had made their discovery. He read the verse aloud and clearly for all to hear. The reception was mixed, some nodding and cheering in approval, others getting very uncertain after hearing about the ice king's deceptive nature. Joron looked up at Osman, who seemed to be leaning more towards uncertainity.
"As I was saying, more research is required before we can trace the path of the sorcerer-king. There is, however, one more solution." Joron rolled out the scroll he had pulled forth earlier and revealed a drawing - or more specifically, a diagram of some sort of instrument. He beckoned over Erima Rock, who reluctantly shuffled over to stand by Joron's tall, skinny stature, and Roka, assistant to Khyber Tin, who had gathered herself somewhat from earlier and strode over with her head held high. She placed herself on the opposite side from Erima. Joron put the schematic down on the table in front of Osman and the foreman examined it thoroughly.
"We call it the Thunderhorn, good foreman. Modeled and shaped to produce the loudest possible sound any instrument can make, we shall use it in the same way as Godrim Thunderhowler shouts to keep the Abductor away from our miners. The Union of Mithril's mastery of craftsmanship will ensure that the schematic the Phosphorous Union in collaboration with us of the Union of Copper drafted, will be followed to the most miniscule detail. However, in order to work the metals required for it, we will need better forges and smithies - good foreman, we beseech you-..." Joron's proposal was interrupted by a guffaw from Osman. The Logmaster and his companions were left somewhat deflated, but Osman waved and wiped a tear. "No, no, I love it, Logmaster. It's just that your plan could not have fit my own any better. Quana Forge, Golaq Gold, get up here." The two dwarves stepped out from the crowd in a hurry - both looking to have calmed down from earlier fits of rage, at least enough that it wasn't visible anymore. Quana Forge raised her fist in greeting and Golaq Gold punched his fists together and bowed in Gold Union fashion.
"Your assignment, Quana and Golaq, will be to expand the smithies and improve the forges post-haste. Made the forges bigger so they can burn more brown coal at the same time - make the blowers three times bigger. The coals shall not have any shade redder than orange when burning, is that clear? We shall make the lignite smelt iron even if we'll have to blow on it with our own mouths." Quana's face lit up with joy. She gave a loud and honest salute and swore that she would complete her task post-haste; Golaq did not seem as eager, but he still swore his oath properly. Joron, Erima and Roka also appeared to be satisfied.
"We will get to preparing the materials, our father Logmaster," Roka said. She pulled her hammer out of her belt and raised it in Mithril Union salute and shouted, "Glory to the Heaven Smith and the Forge-Saints - and their blessings upon the Hammersworn." Her shout was met with cheers from the crowd. Joron and Erima both seemed pleased and gave each other a nod characterised by something that could almost be called respect. They said their oaths and walked out with their respective Unions.
The remaining dwarves debated and talked for a while before the rations were divided up and each went about their business once more. Every Hammersworn dwarf did, however, feel a charge in the air. This new threat in the west had everyone on edge - within everyone's heart lurked a prayer that spring would come sooner rather than later.
Rukdug sat on the 'throne' that had been made for the Warchief with a thoughtful look so deep that it was dark, the only sign of movement being that of his hand; Without even looking towards it, his fingers fiddled with the strange iron disk that was so far the only hint of an outside presence...
The fact that the item was made of iron in and of itself confirmed that there was iron somewhere in this land, as well as a people who could mine and work it. But this was just a minor distraction; A mere attempt to find some kind of bright side to a situation that seemed to be getting worse by the moment.
Fifteen orcs, just... gone. No signs of struggle, no witnesses to anything strange... it was just as if something had snapped its fingers and fifteen living, breathing orcs had ceased to exist silently while no one was looking. Wolves that no one had been able to find any evidence for apart from the burnt bones located down in the tunnels and theories spreading about how this whole turn of events came about. The suggestion that it was his decision to bring back the bones of the two child like creatures had caught his interest; He doubted it, but out of frustration and a desire to try and cross it off the list just in case, he had ended up yelling at the stupid things to knock it off if they actually were haunting them because he had plans to send people out to try and find where they originally came from and hopefully make a good first impression by returning their bones to 'em.
While his thoughts ran deep and drew most of the Warchief's attention, he occasionally focused on the matters that were being discussed around him; Orcs who didn't know what was happening who were just talking loudly, fearful orcs panicking about the disappearances... some of the craftsmen asking for permission to use the firestones once again. Even as he continued to fiddle with the iron disc, Rukdug couldn't help but feel his thoughts drift back to those bloody stones...
Only to stop playing with the disc as an idea poked its head out of the depths of his mind; He remained deathly still as he followed the thought completely, carefully investigating branching paths in order to ensure it was a sound idea without any flaws that could be uncovered with a small amount of logical thinking. The volcano had erupted around the same time as the stones were found... and tasted the blood of one of the prospectors. Before they disappeared, the shamans had thrown around the theory that the stones were of a demonic nature...
The caves of the mountains hadn't caved in on their own... Someone had intentionally sealed them in order to try and lock these things away. If the stones were demonic (and there was strong evidence that this was the case), they likely were connected to the demon that made them... a demon who's awaking was announced by the eruption of a volcano... and the people who originally sealed the caves were trying to stop it from getting stronger because some stupid outsiders had dug up the demonic stones and started feeding them blood...
Several plans rose in his mind with how to use this information... through several were quickly either discarded or simply put on hold; As much as he would had wanted to gather as many troops as he could together to go and visit the volcano to try and locate the being connected to the firestones and destroy it, Riverforge wasn't in a position where he could do that... his people weren't in a position where he could do that.
That needed to change.
Taking a deep breath, Rukdug silenced his 'court' by raising from his chair to his feet, silencing the current speakers as he looked around to see who was actually present. Spying one of the better builders and one of the more veteran miners, he quickly gestured for them to come forward as he started his announcement loud enough for all present to hear. "Ever since we unearthed those demonic, blood loving fraking gems they've been nothing but trouble. The fact that a volcano went off when we found the stupid things should have been enough of a omen, but we allowed ourselves to be blinded by the promise of power. We've paid enough for this mistake... now it's time to correct it."
"Get a couple of miners and builders together, take some guards with you and go down to the firestone tunnels... I want you to collapse them. Not just the entrance either, I want those wretched bloody gems to be crushed and shattered under a literally shrak ton of rock. Once it's done, wall the entrance to that tunnel off. Engrave a freaking warning for all I care, but I want it clear that those damn things remain buried."
He knew that there were going to be orcs who would object to his announcement to destroy and seal away the firestones. Even as they objected, he drew his sword from his side to make it clear just how serious this decision was. If anyone failed to get the hint and back down, he was going to kill them; Better to execute them now than let them undermine his authority and risk them doing something stupid like trying to unearth the firestones again. Fate would tell if he needed to spill orcish blood today... and if so, how much of it.
Even as teams went down to collapse the firestone tunnel, Rukdug moved on to other matters that Riverforge needed done to strengthen their position. Since the disappearances had began because of the Firestone, hopefully sealing those tunnels and making it clear that there was no intention of messing with them again would make them stop. As much as he wanted to get several things done at once, until they learned one way or the other that whatever was making them disappear wasn't doing it anymore he couldn't risk spreading out his people to work several projects at once.
Gathering all his remaining hunters together, he split them up into groups of ten and gave them a clear command. "I want you to go out there and gather us a herd of goats. The boars are a pain in the ass to tame and I want us to have a second, hopefully easier to work with source of meat and milk. Hell, having a steady supply of wool alone would be worth it. Gear up and and don't do something stupid like wander off alone."
With orders given and the course set, Rukdug did the only thing that he could do. Taking one of the larger, more agressive boars that was selected for slaughter, he had it brought before the totem of the Rut Unuabu (Silent Skullcrusher) before having some of his militant orcs hold the boar steady as he raised a club to cave its skull in, much like the large feline beast might have attempted to do. The offering made, Rukdug respectfully knelt before the totem that he had ordered made: Designed as a banner made from the hide of the Rut Unuabu, the beast's skull sat at the top, while the crushed skulls of both the bear in its cave and Morog's own dangled from its lower arms.
In complete silence, he asked the spirit of the Rut Unuabu for insight into finding those who stalked his people so that he could stalk them in turn in the event that sealing the tunnels wasn't enough... and simply to be a better hunter in general.
Rukdug is sick and tired of all the bullshit that's happened since the firestone was uncovered. He has ordered the tunnels housing the stones collapsed than walled off in the hopes that crushing them under a mountain of rock and sealing them off better then just caving in the entrance of a tunnel will make whatever is making his people disappear stop it.
He has also organized his hunters into teams of ten and sent them out to gather a herd of goats. He's sick of having to ration out boar.
He has also made an offering to the newly constructed totem of the Rut Unuabu, the name of the giant feline that he and his group of hunters had found and slain, as well as asking the spirit of one of the greatest predators he has ever seen for insight and guidance to being a better hunter.
Prior to the events of the festival, Caelis sat with the several parties who had various ideas and claims to the newly domesticated cattle. Some wanted the cattle to be privatized and available to be purchased. Others believed that those who worked to domesticate them should keep them. Finally, the last voice believed that the herd should be kept as communal property. These three ideas seemed contradictory at first glance, but Caelis came to realize that there was a way to make everyone happy. They just had to wait a bit, which was something that elves were certainly capable of. They were among the most patient races in the world after all, what was waiting a year or two to an elf?
Caelis said "What we are discussing about is not finite. Nay, the cattle herd can be grown to the benefit of all. Would the wealthy of you want to spend 20 gold coins for one cow when in a year you can purchase two for the same amount of gold? Would you brothers of the woods want to deny your fellow brothers who ensured that you and your family were fed while you worked to domesticate the herd? Would those who advocate for communal ownership deny those whose merits are deserving of praise and reward? There is a simple solution to this. I ask you all to allow the herd to stay together, under no one's ownership, for two years so that it may grow. After those two year, we shall distribute the cattle much like the gold. A large portion will be given to all for private ownership, but the rest will be reserved for use by all. Thus, all I ask of you is a mere two years. Unlike us, the cattle mate much quicker and produce many offspring. In that short time span, I am sure all will be happy with the resolution."
With that meeting over, Caelis met with the horsemen once more and spoke to them. "With the herd now domesticated, we can continue our journey to more fertile lands. I ask you all to ride north and explore the area and try to find a place best for our people and our new herd. May the spirits guide and protect you."
---
Caelis stood with awe at the sight of the shady and sinewy figures of spirits that had appeared before them. Before, they were blessed by the presence of the animal spirits who now protected them, but now these strange figures had appeared. Were they truly ancestors? Or were they malicious spirits, luring the Attolians into a false sense of comfort and familiarity? He couldn't tell, but Caelis bet that the animal spirits would be able to tell if these spirits were malicious or not. Thus, to draw the attention of the spirits and away from Lady Saphira, Caelis loudly called out and bowed "Welcome! Esteemed guests! Please, come and join us in our feast!" as he held his arms openly out and indicated towards the plentiful feast that they had for this festival.
With that, Caelis began to look around for the animal spirits and silently prayed that they would come and guide him through this confusing and uncertain time.
---
Summary: Events:
1. The Elves are asked to wait a mere two years to allow the herd to grow and breed, which will then partially given to individuals for private ownership while the rest will be kept communally just like the gold. After all, to an elf, what's a short two years of waiting when for the cattle, two years is a lot of time to mate and breed unlike Elves?
2. Caelis attempts to draw attention from the spirits and buy time to see how the animal spirits act. He prays that the guardian animal spirits would help them if they were malicious spirits, but if they are not, then the spirits would be allowed to properly join the festival and feast as esteemed guests.
Action:
Caelis asks the horsemen to take the horses once more and to go scout/explore the north for a proper place for the Attolians to begin settling now that the herd is domesticated.
It was a nice morning, the air was crisp and the goats were silenced for once, though that probably just meant that they were going deaf which was not too much of problem since they were just food for the goblin that inhabited the valley. However, there were barely anything that could be called homes, mostly still tents which housed many of the goblins while a few had what functioned as little shanty houses. Not because of their own laziness, but because of disputes between goblin families often ending in an explosive duel which would cause much collateral damage and set back many construction efforts by individual families. This was not something that was often thought about since it was just a way of life for these blue-skins, but someone had made the mistake of catching the tent of Uxu Amberheart, tearing it asunder and leaving her scorched and blackened. Nevertheless she was heavily angered over this, demanding the culprits of the duel be brought to her so that she may exact revenge.
Revenge she wrought from the two, conjuring an explosion massive enough to send the two back to their own tents without having to worry about the traffic of other goblins or the twists and turns of the tent-town. Granted there was still the problem of the duels that Uxu would have to further deal with. For many hours she consulted with her close friends and the her Kooch Hor mages about a solution to this problem, yet her consultants had nothing to offer as disagreements flared during the meeting and led to even further violence, which Uxu dealt with simply and deliberately.
It was at the dawn of the next day that she sent for someone to fetch her some mud-tablets so that she may write into effect, a new law to govern their society and allow them to actually build permanent homes for once in their lives. Upon the tablet was written so, the Dueling Law
Daan Drol'dec Kal
-There shan't be any gits who duel in a heavily populated settlement under the control of the Mage-leader with explosive magic or anything that may cause heavy collateral damage. Even if it is more fun with heavy destruction. -Any git who violates this law shall be punished with cleaning the goat pin and being blown sky high to the goat pin. -Any git who dares question this law will politely be blown back to their home by the Kooch Hor. -If a git causes damage to my home again then you best be ready for what happens next. -All of ya are dumb gits, take your duels somewhere else. -Don't scare the goats. -Lunch rations this week will be goat meet with grass and tree bark, please consult ya neighborhood cook if ya have any special requests. Wait don't write that last one down.
D) Improve culture: Force duels involving explosive magic to be taken outside the settlement so that true construction of permanent homes can begin. Also duels outside the settlement can be done at full power. FUUUUUUUN.
To Battle! The Aedels enter the fight between the forest and the pirates. Tactics include: Eric enters the battle line with his men, blowing a horn in an attempt to gain the attention and musical aid of the deerman. An attempt to communicate with the lead bear so that the birds of the forest can fly ahead to the ship to attack and distract the pirates manning their strange tube weapon in order to buy the ent time to close the distance. The Aedels form a spread out battle line to take advantage of their superior numbers flank past the pirate battle line.
Order at Waebury. F) Improve technology (Healing items) - The civilians of Waebury begin preparing for the wounded. Cleaning and boiling bandages with the new clean water of the well, scavanging on the edge of the forest for barks and herbs that could make poultices ect.
Events were spiraling out of Eric's control with each passing moment. He only had short amount of time to take in the chaotic scene that was unfolding before him and to try and make sense of all of it. This would prove to be a challenge in its own right for this day would confront Eric with an array of things for him to discover for the first time. The most shocking among them possibly being the tree that walked. Over the past few days Eric had congratulated himself over taking the strange encounter with the Deerman in stride and turning it to the advantage of his kingdom, now he saw that there was so much more for him to learn about this forest and just how over his head he had found himself. He could only thank the angels above for granting him enough wisdom and humility to offer the hand of peace to these creatures and to make of them an ally.
It was a shame the same could not be so easily done for these new comers but perhaps that was for the best. For these were no windswept traders or explorers but self proclaimed reavers! Any pans of peace talks or desperate measures to deescalate this matter faded from Eric's mind. For one could never have peace with corsairs and raiders. As a man descended from such types himself Eric knew this better than anyone. To scavengers and honorless hounds such as these safety could only be bought through tribute, for to give a pirate and inch was to give them a mile.
This was not just luck, this was an act of divine providence proving to Eric yet again that the angels had guided them here to meet the lord of this forest who had wrecked these bandits of the waves so that the Aedels could meet them with an advantage before falling prey to their vile appetites. With his heart steeled for what was to come Eric could look upon the shifting battle lines with a calm eye and take in his foe and troops with a leader's eye. The Aedels outnumbered the pirates two-to-one and that was before he counted the writhing army of wolves and bears that was amassing by their side. He had no doubt these pirates were a hardy band but they would be hard pressed to beat such odds.
Yet these strange weapons they menaced at the tree line were reason for him to pause. Eric had never seen such strange inventions but they seemed to embolden the pirates more than simple clubs should. The worst of all being this tube of iron that was being shoved to the edge of the ship by the repulsive troll that was hailed as their leader. Eric had to assume there was some arcane magic at work within if they were confident that it would allow them to do battle with the oaken giant that had emerged from the woods to throw one of their crew as if he were a skipping stone on a pond. Ad still through all of this the lord of Woodhenge whose music had once acted in defence of the woods and had summoned the storms that had brought this about. Surely if he could be reached then the winds and storms could come to their aid again or something to that effect!
"So be it." Intones Eric in all solemnity as turned from the sailors gathered below him to swiftly rejoin the ranks of his men and animal allies.
It was with an agitated stride that he found the bear that had so often acted as a mediator between the two groups. "I know not if you can truly understand me, but you seem a knowledgeable fellow so I can only hope my point is clear enough. Send your birds! Send your birds and your fastest climbers to those on the ship. Their weapon will kill your champion, we must stop them until we can reach the ship." And like a mad man Eric went on to wave his hands back and forth between the trees and the beached ship, the red skinned troll in particular. Upon mentioning their champion he spared on wave of his hand for the walking oak tree but only once in case he confused the message.
There was only a short amount of time left to him to explain, as both forces were becoming impatient and readying themselves for the attack. The time for grand plans was done. Eric had time left for one last gambit. He had no doubt that the forest lord had heard the mighty roar of his tree champion and had still been silent but he could still hope that if he sounded off a war horn of his own then the deer would know that his ally had joined the battle and would respond with a stirring war song of their own.
And thus did Eric ap Edrin, King of Aedelfaar, raised his sword to the heavens and a horn to his lips.
AAAAAHHHHUUUU! AAAAHHHUU AAHHUU!
"CHAAAAARGE!" Rang out the cry of the king and a wordless battle cry rose up around him as the Aedel men waved their weapons with vigorous intent. "For Aedelfaar and the Angels!"
And like a stampeding horde the Aedels ran from the treeline, weapons held high and numbers mixed up with packs of wolves and charging bears. As they ran Eric let his voice roar until he was hoarse, all the while he waved with his short sword to usher his men on and to see them spread out where their greater numbers would show their worth. For if they were to range further to the sides (much like the wolves that ran at their sides) then any archers hidden among the pirates would have a harder time finding targets. Better yet, once the two groups met the Aedels who spread furthest could lap around the sides of the smaller line, leaving the brigands to fight on two fronts.
Eric could only hope his message for the birds had gotten through to the bear. Until then he ran among his men, raising the war call and readying his sword arm.
Back in Waebury
The people of Waebury were not deaf to the growing confrontation if nothing else. The roars of the unseen tree monster reached them in their humble huts and the shrill cry of Eric's horn soon followed it. All while the shouts of the assembled men and beasts carried across the small field like a distant rumble. The Aedel women and children were not strangers to the sights and sounds of war but these strange sounds that came out of the forest each day were enough to put even the sternest soul on edge.
As one of the learned men of the town and self made pillars of the community alongside Eric it was the place of Priest Ecgberht to find a way to busy the dread filled minds of his flock in this dark time. In rough-spun robes he walked out among the people, his shaved head and beak like nose making him look very much the stern servant of the angels.
"Come now, are we to be found cowering and mewling away when our men return? We have not been made so weak by the shrinking of our clan as to be made useless I think. Remember the words of the Elder Angel Sauriel; Dow hast given thee hands so that you might work, and Dow hast given thee a world rich with pieces to be turned to purpose. To lose ourselves to worry is to squander the tools given to us by Dow and their angels so that we might forge our freedoms through our own strengths. So I say to you brave Aedel women to remember your hands and to put yourselves and your children to work so that their victorious fathers might return to a proper welcome."
And so it was with a heavy hearted energy that the women of Waebury went to work. Fresh water was taken from the well and ragged clothing was torn into strips so that it might be washed as the water boiled to ready bandages for the wounded. There was some talk of fetching fresh supplies, since much of the medicines the wise women had brought had either been used or spoiled on the voyage over. In the end it was agreed that some of the women would brave the forest edge to gather tree barks and plants that would be of use in making poultices and mixtures that would ease the coming pain.
These brave mothers would bring their sons who had been too young to go with the king to battle so that their energy could be put to work and they might act as escorts as a man should. It was agreed by the village elders that such peoples would seem less threatening to the spirit of the forest and might be welcomed by it in this troubled time. Stories had spread how it had heard Eric's voice when he had spoken to it plainly from afar and had been pleased by their songs praising the angels. So they would go protected in faith it was said and would make sure to speak their intentions clear before entering the forest and to softly speak the prayers of their people so as not to disturb the woods while still garnering the favor of the all hearing divine.
Such it was that Waebury did not wait still in dread as her people hoped for the best.
And so it was was peace was made and trade established. And for many decades little else but trade was their interaction with ogres. These decades were many, near becoming centuries, but nothing lasts forever.
In the wake of a war between this empire of man and elf, The Empire of Gilden, against one calling himself the dark lord, fear spread along the empire's borders. Fear towards anything not human or elf. This fear gave way to actions that bread hate and revulsion. Soon many ogre kin went missing, though in our blindness and ignorance we did not know the cause and did not suspect the empire. It wasn't until some seasons later that they were found, but...
We were given the choice, either lose our captured kin's lives and fight to the end, or leave our lands... our homes. Upon learning that they were ready and willing to end our way of life, we chose the only path we could.
Survival.
And so it was that we were lead and loaded aboard great, wide, wooden vessels on which we all fell into a deep slumber...
It was dark and stormy as they woke, the only light coming from what little sunshine made it through the storm clouds. The ogres were shaken to consciousness when the enchantment of the boats wore off just as they beached. Once the grogginess of such a deep sleep went away, they looked around to find many of their number were not here. There were many boats that they were loaded onto, and it seemed that a lot of them had gone missing.
Once all were ashore, the decision was soon made to head further inland, dragging what boats they could behind them. It wasn't until they reached the base of some mountains and found a spot next to a small river that they stopped. Thankfully the storms had stopped.
Vlath returned to the village with great haste,flanked by the two void champions on his return he shouted to all near by "Brothers and Sisters! The Gods have gifted upon us their champions today! Not only this but they have gifted us with purpose! Know that even now our Gods fight a foe deep beneath the waves to defend us while we settle on this new land! In their mercy not only have they provided us with these great defenders and the storms to hold off the beasts below but they have informed me of the enemy on the land!The We must find these vile creatures and eradicate them! We have already claimed their obelisks from their pathetic gods but next we will take their land and their lives in the name of the TRUE Gods! All of those who would wish to fight these foul heathens must seek out Grash Bloodfang and prepare to train under him until he deems you are prepared for the coming battle! The Silentpaws will seek them out and any resources that may be of worth to us so that the Goldtooth may bend it to our will! They will search farther and harder! Every week I decree a scouting party must be sent out until this foe is found! Once they are located they shall return and our glorious crusade shall begin!" Vlath spoke to all who would listen in the village, ensuring the Silentpaws were prepared for the long scouting missions and ordering the Goldtooths to begin producing what weapons they could from the lumber-whether that be clubs for Bloodfang or javelins for Silentpaw the Covenant would have weapons ready for war soon.
Vlath then began to seek out Vera and those who had captured him,assuming he did and his zealots had not done it already, Vlath would personally rip the heretics tongue out before proceeding to hear anything fro his zealots.
Vlath makes a speech as he arrives in the village flanked by the Void beasts and tells the lycans to prepare for war against the enemies the Gods had told him about. Vlath sought out Vera and ripped out his tongue.
