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Frontliner said
The way you portrayed it is actually better than how I described it. Thanks!


Thank you! And no problem, with the guild crash I had a lot of free time.

TheSovereignGrave said
Quick question, what season are we starting out in? In the Northern hemisphere that is.


I role played it as spring/summer though I don't have any authority on the matter.
I wasn't sure if you were accepted yet!
Within the Kamer van Macht; Afternoon, Veere, north-eastern Frisstreek

The idle noises of silence worked their way throughout the Kamer, the hall, the fire spitting and cracking as a servant placed another armload of wood into its flames before disappearing off through a close door. In the distance an echo of a clock’s pendulum kept a steady beat, but it was nearly drown out by the deep, steady breaths of Lord Ode, which kept a time of their own.

He’d been asleep for the better half of an hour now, but truthfully, he had not been awake for many years now. Every once in a while, his brilliance would spark up within him, a stubborn flame, and for a moment, Frisstreek would be reminded of the authority he commanded all those years ago, but as quickly as it was rekindled, his mind would snuff out, trailing off into bubbling nonsense, his purple lips trembling, as those half-blind, haze of eyes closed, and like a babe, he was soothed from the cold, terrible world, into the womb of ignorance his age had granted him.

Often he forgot he’d been talking at all, and all gathered around him, the court would wait, drawn in breath to hear would wisdom he might share. For many moments, they’d stand there, listening to his labored breathing, until Lord Ode would mention the weather, or ask, prideful and delighted, if anyone had met his new grandchild, Basilious’ baby boy, Ode the Younger. Ode the Younger now had children of his own, but every time the Lord regaled them with the wonder that was his first grandchild, the entire court humored him with their own smiles, and sympathetic nods.

Lord Ode’s wrinkled face bobbed down in his seat, Basilious, who sat at his right, reaching over to his elderly father, and adjusting the man, righting him with a look of suspicion at the other two Lordships, as if they had somehow cast his father into this stupor, as if they found his age amusing, once the most powerful man in all of Frisstreek, now a wrinkled, old child.

“I received a messenger from Middenveld, yesterday. He sent word that the farmer, Saar of Laren rides through the countryside with a group of yeoman, garnering support for expansion south.” Lord Henri finally spoke up after several terse moments, his green eyes flickering between the sleeping Lord, and the rain-pattered window lining the eastern wall. “There is claim that the Graafen of Laren, Edam, and Hoorn.”

Lady Sara scoffed softly, dressed still in morning, as she had been for a month now since they lay her brother to the fire. Henri shared no love for a de Vires, but Nys had been only a boy, and he knew Sara to have taken to him like a son of her own, “ Firstly,” The woman spoke, her once radiant blonde hair now without luster, threads of silver greyed out the gold, and her youth seemed drained from her, leaking from her pale pours as her ten years had exhausted her especially, and she craved a life unburdened, “Why were neither Lord Ode, or I, called when the Messenger arrived? Though, My Lord, you do make a grand relay yourself, it seems only fitting that we should have been present when this news was shared. Secondly, pray tell, what care do farmers have that our borders expand south? It would be a bloody war, and bloody wars are fought by farmer’s sons.”

“I agree with Lady Sara, at least on her first point, the second; forgivable ignorance.” Basilious spoke in turn of his father, a grin on his face, as if he thought himself to have shared something particularly funny.

“Excuse me?” Lady Sara’s eyes narrowed, “What of my ‘ignorance’ makes it so forgivable?”

“It’s only to be expected, M’lady.” He cooed back, that cocky grin never leaving his face. Across the table, Lord Henri, who had done well thus far in remaining neutral, began to smile as well, “Forgive me, all I mean is, that as a Lady, though fiercely intelligent as you are, blind spots in your vast knowledge are foreseeable. Especially in works of war and expansion. Not that I am not of fault! Surely if you were to quiz me on what-..I don’t know, silks and dyes were in fashion currently, I’d be clueless too. Don’t you agree, Lord Henri?”

“Most agreeable, Basilious.” The youngest Lord snickered, as they shared between them a bond of misogyny, two schoolboys within a club that she was excluded, and from their perceived betterment, they grinned down at the woman, who stared icily back.

To keep her face, Sara said nothing, having dealt long enough with their idiocy to know that it’d pass, a lasting storm, that one day would blow right back into their grinning faces.

“Anyhow…” Henri cleared his throat, and straightened himself, “The farmers want land, Lady Sara, with our population swelling, there is very little land to split among them. A system of master and serf has begun to arise, with the wealthier men buying great tracks of land, and allowing the peasant-farmer to work them, allowing that they give a hefty percentage of their crop in payment to the ‘Master’. Before such a rigid system be emplaced, many of the aforementioned ‘serf’ have begun an outcry for more land. Already, stories circulate that families have moved independently south, and rumor is that the soil is remarkably fertile.”

Lady Sara nodded, her eyes narrowed slightly, “Our Heode is already stretched thin as it is, should we expand, it would require recruitment, militia’s created, food, weapon, and armor supplied, a new tax would be implemented, and since it is these yeomen who cry out for this expansion, which only benefits them, this tax-burden should fall upon their shoulders.”

“Squeezing coin from the already poor?” Basilious remarked, “I know you are cold, Sara, but that uncaring?”

Her eyes narrowed fiercely as she already saw an alliance budding against her, enemies forming as she sat up, “Then who would you suggest we take it from? Everyone ails, Vorst.”

That confident smile sparked once more across Basilious’ face. He was of the same age as Sara, late into his thirties, but there was a boyish arrogance still in his eyes, the eyes of a Prince, who has wanted nothing in his life but to inherent that great power his father has culled in life, and waste it frivolously in his boyish way. “ North and South, East and West. The world is filled with bounty and lushness, we’ve only to reach out, and take it. Our people are great conquerors, it is in our blood. Han the Glorious, Dedrick the Deathless, and even Adaja, Maiden of the Gods. They did not raise an army from the taxes of their poor for expansion, they saw the wealth of the world around them, and they took it, for it is rightfully theirs.”

Lady Sara stared at him, drawing in a deep breath so that her fur cloaked shoulders raised high, eyes unwavering, “Fine, we shall have a vote.”

“I am glad that you see reason, My Lady.” Basilious glanced to Henri, who though looked deep in thought, he knew craved the same status as he did; to be cast among the legends, as the Lords who returned Frisstreek her glory.

“Wake Lord Ode, you are not yet a Lordship, Basilious, and though you may think yourself one, until your father is gone, bless his soul, the vote is unopened to you, a Vorst, no matter his status as heir.”

Wickedly, the man glared toward Sara, You bitch, he thought, a hand coming to gently wake his father. Perhaps if they vote quickly, the man will still be in too much of a stupor to understand, and follow Basilious’ advice on the vote.

But before the old man’s eyes had fully opened, Lady Sara’s voice rung out across the hall, “Lord Ode, we are voting upon the suggestion of your son, Basilious, if we should raise an army, and wage war with out neighbors; the very ones you spent your lifetime creating a friendship with, so that we shall gain the wealth to expand south. What do you think of that, Hm?” Though she spoke slowly so the old man might understand, her words were loud, and the silence that followed them was a short snip before Lord Ode’s voice rang out.

“What?!” He shouted, enraged, spit still running down his lip as he spoke, “Not until I am in the grave will Frisstreek become a nation of pillagers, [b]Never[/e]!” His voice, though slurred with his jowls shaking, held remnants of his past strength, the passion alit behind those hazed eyes for only a second, the man already beginning to drift into his madness however, repeating himself, “Never, Never, Never…” Over and Over again until only an airy whisper, a passing breeze of ‘nevers’ exhaled through his slack lips, and the old man hunched backwards, staring stonily at the ceiling, as if an apparition of a life lost floated there, his mind and his body gone to hell, but up in heaven, he saw his spirit there, floating free from years of bondage, a brilliant mind shrunken and caged behind all that madness.

Now it was Lady Sara smiling, looking across the Lord Henri, “ M’lord, your vote?”

Rather than vote, the man stood, adjusting the buttons of his tunic, and marching off, for no matter what he said, the vote was decided. Lady Sara then looked toward Basilious, it was his turn for ridicule, though the woman only smiled, seeing the rage behind his eye, “ I assume the meeting is adjourned, Vorst, a pleasure as always.” She stood, and too was disappeared out the door, the Lordship disbanded, and off to do the other duties that concerned their days.
Sure thing!
Feigling said #Accepted
Can I rely on you to update the map as new nations are accepted?


Sure thing! I worked on some of the flags that were described, they're not great, but not awful either, at least I don't think.

Here's an update.

Map:


Adjutor Isle:



The Kingdom of Osterlaind: (I tried to find an eagle with four swords, but I had to do some overlay to get two swords as it was!)



Edit: Introed! YAY!
Wohhhooo we're back baby!
My app is finished! #TotallyNotHolland.
Position on Map:

--

Name: Frisstreek
Flag:
Capital: Veere
Other Major Settlements:

Middenveld- Centrally located, most populated city, serving as a cultural way port within Frisstreek, and former capitol. The most fortified city within Frisstreek, it has walls meant to withstand the most brutal of sieges, and most of the countries grain supplies end up within her granaries. In the case of an invasion, the government and military would draw back into Middenveld, with high walls, and a natural defense of mountains. On the other side of those mountains, who’s center is only accessible by two passes, the great farmlands of Frisstreek expand.

Zeehaven- Major trading port, on the north-western most tip, renowned worldwide for ship builders, and colorful women.

The Hoede dan Zuidgrens- A series of fortified towns relaying across Frisstreek’s southern border. Every twenty-five league a Hoede dan Zuidgren lies. Their garrison is light in most, with a city-guard, of perhaps ten, but the four largest forts hold a thousand men a piece, serving active duty within Frissteek’s army. With no natural barrier with her south, only a expanse of plains, Frisstreek relies on their intricate system of beacon’s to warn of impending dangers. The light of these giant torches is rumored to be seen for a hundred leagues, and allow for swift defense from within and the other border-patrols.

--

Population: About 1,000,000.

Races: Frisstreek is an extremely exclusive culture, scant of immigrants, especially those of races which are not human, or at least humanoid. Hanarth Elves make up the largest minority, and even then, they only equal <2% of the population. Most Frisians are Anglo-Saxon to Greco-Roman in skin tone. However, in the ports it is not uncommon to see those of a dark hue, but within central-Frisstreek, a stronger bias is bred.

Culture: Holding a very Nordic culture, Frisstreek is a mix of the lowland countries of Europe, and Viking-style customs of Norway and Denmark. More traditional values are really shown in the center of the country, however along the ports where it is more diverse, the varying influences of others shows through, especially in regions such as Zeehaven. There is no major religion, but rather small sects of spiritualism within the country, the less modernized villages especially hold regard for the forces of nature more so than a deity itself. Word-of-mouth tales, as well as great heroes of old hold major influence within the country, with many statues, and great banners created to depict these half-story, half-truth legends that every Frisian child knows. Oddly enough, it is the older generations who hold more regard for women, with the newer ones seeming to be more nationalistic, believing in the fierce blood of Frisian men, and that the roles between the genders is stagnant. A hundred years ago, Ladys within the Lordship were not uncommon, the first born child inheriting the title regardless of gender, however, with time, politics has become a man's game, and the daughters of Lords were excluded from their right.

Crimes: The basic principles of a society exist, with an intricate system of law. However, there is no trial of peers, rather a judge, who oversees all three judicial duties. Crimes are dealt with rather harshly, with prison camps forming a sort of labor-force, where inmates help in building roads, clearing farmlands, among other things to regain their role in society.

Government type: Oligarchy

People in power:

As an Oligarchy, the power within Frisstreek lines in the hands of a few, explicitly, three major families control the inner politics of Frisstreek, suposedly with equal say, but think of them as a triangle, with each point stretching and pulling in their direction. Should they all have the same amount of power, the triangle would be equilateral, however, so often, one family gains the edge, and so the triangle stretches. In theory, they are meant to work together to rule, but so often they work against each other, each family pursuing the betterment of their name more often than the benefit of their country.

The de Koning family- Headed by Lord Ode, a man well into his seventies, and crippled by dementia. In his day, he was known for his unwavering pacifism. For the forty years of his reign, Frisstreek was at peace. However, all of that could change with his son Basilius preparing for his self-proclaimed Godhood, once his father passes into the next world.

The Prins family- Lord Henri Prins is the youngest of the three Lordships, as was his father, and his father before him. For the last four generations, Prins lords have died before the eve of their thirtieth birthday, and Henri, at twenty-nine, hopes to disprove the rumors, and outlive his ancestors. Though, among the common people the great curse that plagues them is seen as a great scandal. Though disbelieving of the superstition, Henri has tried to ease them by bearing a son. His wife has yet to birth him a living child, and with his thirtieth birthday approaching, a pressure to produce an heir grows.

The de Vries family- Lady Sara de Vries has served her time within the Lordship under much scrutiny. Though Lord Ode has found her more agreeable than other de Vries, Lord Herni and Basilius have formed a strong bound in hoping to kick a link from the chain of power. But in her ten years as Lady, Sara has held face, unmarried and childless. Though none of that mattered, as she was only a placeholder, meant to keep the power to the de Vries while her child brother, Nys, grew to age. He was a year from gaining his seat when fever took him. It had come quick, and it had come terribly, but now Lady Sara finds the burden of power thrust solely onto her shoulders, when she had hoped to escape. The expectation for marriage arises, and the most eligible bachelor seems to be her very Uncle, Ferre, who had been denied the throne firstly based on his infamous temperament, and the protest of Lord Ode, the most influential of them, calling Ferre a warmonger, and a cheat. But with Lord Ode growing iller every day, and hardly remembering his own grandchildren, let alone his enemies of old, Basilius and Henri push for Lady Sara to marry, and her duties be handed over to Ferre, a man with more agreeable ideals then that of the lady.

Industry: Frisstreeks major industries include:
- Shipbuilding
- Brewing
- Fishing
- Trapping
- Dye-making
- Textile-making
- Agriculture; Hops, Grains, Potatoes, Apples, and Corn.

Frisstreek relies heavily on trade to gain much of its lumber, stone, precious metal, and manufactured goods. Keeping good relations with most countries is vital to her survival, though in the past, instead of a peaceful coexistance, Frisstreek was known more so for its raiders, and territorial aggression. Recently, imperialist sentiment has risen up, especially in the region around Middenveld, where many nationalists have gained influence, and numbers among the common people. Their call go unanswered by the Lords.

Military: Frisstreek's military is only large enough for personal defense of the homeland. In times of peace, 10,000 men patrol the land, and 2,500 patrol the seas. 5,000 soldiers are stationed along the southern border of Fristreek, the other 5,000 are scattered between central-Frisstreek, and the North. Each City is expected to garrison enough men of its own for its own defense, whose ranks can called upon by the authority of their Lordships at any time, and a quick bolster of the military, without recruitment, can bring her numbers to a lofty 23,000, including seamen.

Landscape/Terrain: The landscape of Frisstreek varies according to region, however it is predominantly temperate, with mild summers, and long winters. The coastal region is flat, as is much of the country, with only a strand of unremarkably average mountains and hills within central Fristreak. Cold, fresh water streams and rivers divide the country, and thusly soil is rich, and lush evergreen forests span in a crescent in the north. South Fristreek is where much of the farmland lies, with endless boroughs of farmland, with few expanses of forest between them.

History:

In the beginning, Frisstreek was moreso of a village than a country at all, warring with the other villages around it until with passing time, its dominion spread far past the walls of its lowly village. With most of the Frisians situated in the north, ship-building and navigating became essential to their survival, venturing north, east, and west in search of villages to raids, and riches to recover. That time of barbarism passed when a King from the south came north, and conquered the tribal bands. He however allowed for their Chieftain to remain, forming a dual-head of state.

The third leader of their Oligarchy did not come for a few hundred years, when Frisstreek was reaped with revolution, the dual-Kings being uprooted, and in place, the Families of de Vires, Prins, and de Koning came into powder, de Vires from the North, Prins from the center, and de Koning from the South. Since then, Frisstreek has varried from times of peace, and times of war, expanding and contracting south, but now their borders have been solid for nearly a half-century with the pacifist-rule of Lord Odes. But Odes is old, and on his deathbed. Both Lord Henri and Basilius, young, ambitious men, are beginning to see the world in shades of red, and the years of peace Frisstreek has thrived under reach their close, a push for expansion has begun, craving farmland to house and feed Frisstreeks growing population.
Heyo!
I'm sorry everyone, I've been super ultra-busy with finals and work, but I hope to be more active.

Both are accepted.
Dododo
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