Jotunn Draugr

Time's a Changing - a Steampunk NRP set in a Psuedo-Earth

I'm also interested.

@Malphaestus

Sweet. If you've got a country in mind, run it by me and I'll tell you if it's taken or anything. Then post away!

Justice League: Futures End

@Jotunn Draugr She might get along pretty well with Shay. Maybe. If she enjoys getting drunk and potentially picking bar fights or the like.

@Double

Haha sounds right up her alley.

Chinese beer only, though. She's a lady of class:

Justice League: Futures End

@Jotunn Draugr

Thanks for that. Yeah, my guy is a pretentious ass, and will be played as such until he's spent more time around people. He's a good wartime companion to have, but that bedside manner... not so much.

@Sigil

Alright, and my girl's a nihilistic gun-nut. Looks like we'll get along great ;)

Spoiler

No we won't.

American Dream: A Shattered Union

East Koniginsberg, Northern Manitoba, Gottesland

The filthiest slum in Gottesland, stretching as far as the eye could see, lay beneath a bleak, cloudy sky. In the centre of town, thousands of agitated citizens shuffled around, amassing around a small wooden stage, with a sole figure standing on it.

"Dear President Koln, and Prime Minister Steinmann. It is the ongoing wish of the British people, whom you continually trample upon with your barbaric restrictions and customs, to be given full sovereignty over their own lands. Segregated and self sustaining as we are, your continued violent law enforcement betrays your regime for what it really is. You are nothing short of a foreign, imperial dictatorship, and my people will not stand for it. The British people are as stalwart as they are ancient. Our unbroken lineage has been synonymous with independence and distinction for millennia, dating back to the establishment of the oldest, and most enduring kingdom in the history of the world. To deny the potency and perfection of the English language in your parliament, and to suppress the free expression of individuality that our ancestors gifted to humanity, is to spit in the face of a lion!"

Victoria Albertasdottir, clad in a flowing, bright red cotton dress, polished jewelry hanging from each limb, spoke with an unwavering confidence, upon her rickety wooden platform. The massive crowd of unwashed peasants stood before her, in complete silence. It was unlikely they understood half of what she was saying, but they nonetheless hung on her every word. She was a figure of authority, and a strikingly beautiful one at that. As her speech continued, the only other audible sound was her scribe, typing away on a rusty typewriter. This was to be her sternest declaration yet. With any luck, it would incite further heavy-handedness from the government, increasing her popularity even further.

"It is with this understanding, of our own innate superiority, that we, the British people, demand equal representation in Parliament."

She paused, to emphasize the importance of this demand to her uneducated audience. Gracefully brushing a few strands of long, blond hair from her face, she continued.

"It is with this understanding, of our countless invaluable gifts to humanity, that we, the British people, demand complete self-governance over our cities."

Again she paused, taking a moment to bask in the look of incredulous awe that sat on the faces of her followers.

"It is with this understanding, of the purity of our language and culture, that we, the British people, demand freedom!"

With this, she thrust one fair, slender fist into the air. The crowd exploded in applause, roaring with enthusiasm. She gave a bow, as her guards, clad in red wool jackets, swiftly escorted her from the stage. The masses parted like the Red Sea as her entourage moved toward them. She smirked as a wave of ecstatic self-adoration surged through her. The dust-covered masses shrieked and bellowed with joy as she blew kisses at them.

Coming up from behind her, and hopping into the circle of red-clad guards, Sir James Painter joined the briskly marching celebrity.

"Your best speech yet, m'lady."

"Well I should hope so", she responded quietly. "It's about damn time we took this to Argyllsberg."

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Prime Minister's Office, Parliament, Argyllsberg

A middle-aged, suspendered man, sporting a greasy beard and a sizable bald spot, frantically rifled through hand-written letters on his large, oak desk.

"Verdammt", the Prime Minister hissed, before grabbing hold of a faded note, tucked near the bottom of the stack. "Aha!", he exclaimed.

"So which one is this?", asked a stern, red-headed man sitting across from him.

"Zis is zie vun frhom Vest Koniginsberg", Steinmann responded through his thick Germanic accent, skimming over the page. "Two dead, sree voonded. Zey haf fallen bek to zie Koniginsberg military base."

The Prime Minister's guest furrowed his brow. "May I?", he asked, gesturing toward the letter.

"Ja, ja", Steinmann nodded, passing it across the table. "Vut do you sink?"

"I think...", the man responded, his eyes darting across the page, "that it's time for a blitz. The longer we leave this alone, the worse it's going to get. We need to stamp the whole thing out, and fast."

"You know zis will be a hard sell to zie Gutteslander leut. Zey von't put up wit zie violence."

"This is an easy story to tell, Lukas. They've already killed two officers. Any action we take, from now on, is a defensive action. Let's use this excuse to end this problem right now."

"Yes, yes, I will put zie vord out. Ve'll get posters up, send out vhornings und notices."

"Good man. Now if you'll excuse me, I think it's time I checked in on our dear neighbours."

"Goot luck, Mister President", Steinmann proclaimed with a wave.

"Likewise", MacFearghus-Koln grunted, as he let himself out.

To Michigan

Dear Mister Governor General,

I am writing to you regarding our increasingly militaristic neighbours to the south. It is the belief of the Hutterish people, that a nation is most prosperous when it is secure. When money need not be spent of fighting off invading savages, the nation's infrastructure can be expanded, and society as a whole can prosper.
As such, I am proposing a military pact of mutual security and prosperity. In the event that either of us is on the defending side of an armed conflict, internal or external, we would be obligated to come to one another's aid. Coupled with this agreement, I propose a prohibition be placed on tariffs between our two nations, and a formalized trade rout be established. We are both prosperous, growing nations. Let's benefit from each other's prosperity, and share in our mutual bounty of food and resources.
With this letter, I am sending one of our finest bilingual emissaries, Jacob Fritz. He is prepared to clarify any questions you have about our nation, and to return with the utmost haste with your response.

Regards,
-Pat MacFearghus-Koln,
President, Gottesland

To The League of First Peoples

Mister Secretary,

I am writing to you on this occasion with regard to our vastly expanding neighbours to the east. A great many of them are increasingly militarized and imperialistic, and could pose a major threat to our nations.
For the sake of mutual security and prosperity, I propose a defensive military pact between our two great nations. In the event of armed conflict, our military might will be unified against the aggressor. Coupled with this, I further recommend the establishment of a formalized trade network between our two nations. Not only will we find security in the face of our neighbours, but we can advance and prosper ahead of them. Our country, which has an excess of non-perishable, would very much like to exchange this bounty for some of your mineral and metal stockpile. Surely, such an agreement would aid us both greatly.
With this letter, I am sending one of my best emissaries, Frank Houk, to clarify any questions you may have about our nation, and to ferry your response back to Gottesland.

Regards,
Pat MacFearghus-Koln
President, Gottesland

Time's a Changing - a Steampunk NRP set in a Psuedo-Earth

I was thinking of going with an industrialized Not - Russian Tsardom, where the Tsar realized the only way to stop the foreseeable proletariat revolution was to industrialize and create a middle class. I'll get on posting a sheet and maybe even my first post sometime tonight.

@Smoke With Me

That sounds like an awesome addition to the scenario! Looking forward to it.

Justice League: Futures End

@Jotunn Draugr

If you would, what are the specifics on the rifle you've got your girl aiming at Maxus? If you decide off of general principle to shoot him because he's an ass (wouldn't blame you), I'd like to figure if it'll get past his force field or merely knock his head back.

Kinda like this...

@Sigil

Haha good to know you won't hold it against me. I'll keep the option on the table ;)

She's using a modified AMR-2, that fires .50 BMG rounds.

The Huskarls of Jotunn Draugr

Name: Forseti Bjornson


Race: Haugbui/Draugr
-Magical Norse zombie, able to use dark magic to shapeshift and increase or decrease in size. His magical abilities are strengthened near graveyards and oceans, especially on cloudy days, but weakened the further he goes inland. Like other zombies, he is filled with a deep hunger for human flesh, but he also retains most of his human personality, allowing him to resist this desire.

Age: Chronologically 56, Physically 29

Appearance:
Forseti is a thin, gaunt man. His eyes are darkly outlined, giving the appearance of having not slept in many days. His skin is grey and lifeless, but his face is largely obscured by a thick beard. His body is likewise hidden by a thick navy-blue pea coat, leather gloves, formal pants, and tall, heeled leather boots. He stands with a stiff posture, and walks with a limp. His pockets are filled with herbs and tobacco, and a lit pipe is constantly hanging from his mouth. He carries a strong aroma of various burnt plants and alcohol. When on land, he waxes his beard and greases back his hair, giving the appearance of a proper sea-fairing gentleman. At sea, his hair blows free, and a primal energy radiates from his expression.

Personality:
Forseti is a very stiff, and heavily self-restrained individual. He upholds flawless posture, and strides with the utmost authority. Joy doesn't come naturally to him anymore, but he makes the effort to smile and play along with his comrades, for the sake of the group. He savours every opportunity to sit down, as though it relieves a great weight from his entire being, not just his legs. He's also a deeply spiritual man, who observes several pagan religious practices before going to bed. Over all, while he appears as a fairly young man, he displays the personae of someone far older.

Bio

Bio:
Forseti was a fisherman who lived and worked off the northern coast of Norway. His village had, of course, sworn itself to Njord, God of Storms, and patron of the fishmongers. Njord, however, recognized the strength of the Aesir, Norse gods of war, who rivaled Njord and the other peaceful gods. He erected several hidden shrines outside the village, honouring Aesir like Odin and Thor, and even devious Jotunn (giants) like Loki and Hel. Two days after his twenty-ninth birthday, his shrine to Hel was discovered, in a tool shed he'd forgotten to lock up before heading out. The village elders, fearful and furious, summoned Njord, and told him of this treachery.
As Forseti sailed out to his fishing spot, unaware of the elders' discovery, Njord himself appeared before Forseti. He told Forseti that his village had always been faithful to him, and had begged Njord to spare the fisherman's life. So Njord demanded Forseti's servitude, and repentance, in exchange for his life. Just as Forseti began to bow, he heard whispers in his head, commanding him to reject the demand. With a sudden rage, he pulled out a knife, and slashed and Njord's legs while he was in his mortal form. Wounded and betrayed, Njord stumbled off the ship, and into the ocean below. Sinking to safety within the depths, he summoned a great storm to kill Forseti. A mighty wave arose, and swallowed Forseti's boat, plunging him into the deep cold ocean. As the currents pulled him downward, he prayed to the whispers that had driven him to assault a god. The whispers answered, and Loki and Hel revealed themselves. They smiled and laughed, as Forseti squirmed and thrashed, water quickly filling his lungs. As the light began to leave his eyes, a third form swam around him. A great, slithering monstrosity.
He awoke on a beach in Scottland, still wearing his sailing gear. Able to speak English well enough, he got a job with a local fishing company there. He lead a normal life for a while, until one Friday night, when he was enjoying a beer with his coworkers at a local pub. He once again heard whispers in his head, but this time they were followed by complete blackness. When he awoke, the bar that had once been filled with laughing drunken sailors, was now filled with mutilated corpses. He fled from Scottland, and was fortunately never identified by the authorities.
Making his way to the south of England, he enlisted in the British Navy. Many years passed, and many promotions were gained, and it began to sink in that a man who was well into his forties hadn't aged since his twenty-ninth birthday. It wasn't just him either. The sailors beneath him began to joke, about the gaunt captain who didn't age. It was then, that the whispers returned yet again, although this time they didn't compel him to kill. Instead, they taught him of his new abilities. He was able to alter his appearance, either subtly, or into an entirely different person. While this ability carried a great deal of potential, he simply used it to make himself appear to age normally, so as to not arouse suspicion. The whispers told him of his inhuman strength, but he suppressed this. The whispers told him that he could survive beneath the waves, without air. He was fortunate enough to not need to test this.
At the age of fifty-four, he retired, and purchased a small beach-front residence in the distant nation of Seaside. Living off of his savings, and some light harbour work, he spent two years dedicated to worship, in a desperate attempt to lift the curse that had clearly been placed on him. The advantage of Seaside, is that it was a new world, and he could return to his twenty-nine year-old appearance without arousing suspicion. His reclusive cottage on the coast also meant he was able to experiment with the powers that had been granted to him, in case the gods required their usage.

Equipment/possessions:
-Steel rapier
-Flintlock pistol
-Fillet knife
-Oilskin coat
-Bone tobacco pipe
-Pipe tobacco
-Whiskey bottle
-Leather-bound prayer book
-Book of matches

Stats: (18 total)
Strength: 5
Endurance: 4
Agility: 3
Intelligence: 2
Will: 3
Luck: 1

Skills/Spells:
-Fencing
-Seamanship
-Alter Appearance (Spell: Changes appearance and size to suite the situation. Good for persuasion and stealth)
-Undead Strength (Spell: Double the result of a Strength roll)
-Lifeless Lungs (Immune to drowning/suffocation)

The Huskarls of Jotunn Draugr

Gottesland

Name: Gottesland & The Albertasleut

Flag:

Claims: in purple


Terrain: Fertile, endless fields of wheat, corn, and grass. Only a few sparse patches of trees in the far north of the country. There are four main craters in Gottesland, where the pre-war cities of Regina, Calgary, Edmonton, and Saskatoon once stood. These areas are known as the "raptured lands", and are sealed off with mighty fences and walls. Rumors circulate through cities of Gottesland, of great inhuman monstrosities emerging from the irradiated depths, but none can comment with any degree of certainty.

Government Type: The nation of Gottesland is a self-titled 'Communist Christian Theocracy'. On the local level, this is true. On the federal level, however, it operates very similarly to how Canada's government ran. The nation is divided into Colonies (Provinces/States), with each colony having an advisory council with one Prediger. The Prediger rules his colony as a king, with the advice of his council, but also represents the colony in the national Parliament (Congress). There are 462 Predigers of 462 Colonies, and 5 Albertasleut Ministers, representing the Albertasleut Tribes. Parliament has a vote every 5 years, to elect both a Prime Minister and a President. The Prime Minister rules the country, and handles all domestic law. The President manages everything outside the country, and deals with international law and trade. There is no Senate. All law is handled between Parliament and the two executives ministers (PM and Pres). Since all the Predigers serve for life, and are appointed, there are no political parties. The only elected seats are the 5 Albertasleut Ministers, who run as independent individuals.

Capital: Argyllsberg


Heads of State: President Pat MacFearghus-Kruger, Prime Minister Lukas Steinmann

Other Important People:

-Lady Victoria Albertasdottir, leader of the 'Kingdom of Albertasleut', a rapidly growing cult. She claims to be the only living heir to the British royal family, making her the de facto ruler of Canada, and she further claims that the British royal family was appointed by God himself, making her the descended avatar of God's will. Obviously, there is no way to verify this claim, and she goes unrecognized by Parliament. Nonetheless, she has already amassed a large following among the Albertasleut Tribes.

-Sir James Painter, Albertasdottir's second in command, and leader of the millitant wing of 'the Kingdom'.

-Chief Vann-Falcon Ouellette, spiritual leader of the First Nations populations of Albertasleut.

-General Luke MacFearghus-Kruger, head of the military, and brother of the president.

Population: 4.282 million

Attitude Towards Evols: Evols are believed to be marked by God for their sin, and are banned from the Colonies of Gottesland. They are tolerated residents of the tribes of Albertasleut, but are still regularly victimized by local gangs.

Economic System:

Gottesland is an agricultural powerhouse! All 462 colonies are farming colonies, and have managed to hobble together a series of coal-fired and man-powered contraptions to accelerate the farm work. Their production of meat, vegetables, and cereal is currently nothing short of excessive. This surplus of food is only made greater, due to the fact that all citizens have to follow a strict system of regimented, limited meals. The local government dishes out a pre-determined amount of food to each citizen, three times a day. Everybody eats at the same time, in the same place. If they don't show up on time, they don't eat. Each colony possesses a stockpile of pickled and dried foodstuffs, in case of famine, and make regular shipments of preserved food to Argyllsberg.
Argyllsberg functions not only as the capital of the nation, but as an international trading hub, where all Gotteslandish exports are pooled and priced.
The Albertasleut Tribes operate a series of coal mines across the country, maintaining just enough output to supply the nation's many farming vehicles. Any remaining coal is confiscated by the government, and kept in storage. Technology and fossil fuel is only used for farming, and pursuits relevant to farming, in Gottesland. This is the way it has always been.
The nation suffers from a lack of metals, and a limited (and rapidly disappearing) supply of wood. To meet the nation's need for building materials and tools, they trade their vast supplies of food to neighbouring nations and tribes. Those at the lowest rungs of Gottesland society are sent out on scavenging missions, to collect metal scrap. This helps keep everything running, during times of slow trade.

Currency: Bartering, although even this is discouraged. In the vast majority of cases, if a citizen wants something, they submit a formal request to the government, explaining why it is desired. The government is not keen on granting requests either, unless it directly increases production, or encourages 'Christian values'.

Technology: Technology is not something that the Gottesland people hold in high regard. They have maintained and collected some very advanced machinery from before the war, but it is almost entirely farming equipment. Entertainment and other industries are not allowed to develop any new technology without express permission from the government. The only historical case of this exemption ever being granted was when the Albertasleut wanted to restore some of the pumpjacks of Old Alberta, in an attempt to add oil-power to Gottesland's productivity. This effort is ongoing.

Official Religion: Hutterite Anabaptist Christian

Religious Information: The only official religion is of the Hutterite people. It's essentially the religion of the Amish, but with allowances made for farming and crafting technology. The Hutterites upheld the belief that the meek would inherit the Earth, and when the nuclear war happened, destroying much of the world's population, they believed this to be God fulfilling his promise. As such, the Hutterites uphold a strict policy of peace and pacifism, and forgiveness at all costs, in keeping with what they believe to be God's law.

Ethnic/cultural makeup:

79% German
14% British
5% First Nations & Metis
1% French
1% Chinese

History:
When the bombs fell, the great cities of Canada were wiped off the face of the Earth. Nearly all of Canada's Anglo-Franco population was erased. This left the German Hutterite colonies of Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba as Canada's largest demographic. Due to their colonies being far away from any urban development, they were entirely untouched by the bombs. With their large food production, policies of til-death marriage, no contraception, and now no competition from the rest of Canada, their population exploded! They established colonies all across the prairies of Canada, and even trading outposts as far as New Brunswick. The surviving Anglo-Canadians, now without a centralized government, or any societal structure, flocked to the Hutterites for food and shelter. Being largely non-Christian, and unable to speak German, they formed a segregated peasant class in the new society. Even after being integrated into Hutterite society, the majority of Anglos rejected the religious teachings of the Hutterites, and upheld more urban, pre-war values. This grew over the years, until a religion was founded around it. Anglos began worshiping the historical figures of Canada, as the gods of a lost era, with the British crown (Canada's official head-of-state) at the centre. Eventually, as tension began to form between the Hutterites and Anglos, the government decided to form designated 'tribal land', where the non-Germans could form their own communities. These became known as the Tribes of Albertasleut (Alberta's People).
Over time, the surviving Native tribes of Canada gathered together, and merged with the Albertasleut, swelling the tribal population.
As the governments of the Hutterite Colonies became more and more centralized, they decided to establish a proper Parliamentary government, who would manage the law of the land as a single entity. They dubbed this formalized nation 'Gottesland' (God's Land), and appointed Joseph Jager and Albrecht Schmidt as the nations first President and Prime Minister, respectively.

Culture:

The official language of Gottesland isn't English. Instead, English is considered a commoner's tongue, used by the less devout, the less moral, and the less clean. The language of the holy and the pure is German, and this is the only language spoken in government. The one official organisation where English is used is the military. This is because only non-Hutterites and Hutterite non-Christians are allowed to serve as soldiers.
Among Hutterites, clothing consists of white or plaid shirts and suspenders for the men, and plaid dresses for the women. Black is worn on Sundays, and in government. Hats are commonly worn, but the style changes depending on the colony.
Among Albertasleut, clothing varies greatly. Many replicate the fashion of the Hutterites, while others wear more casual and modern outfits. Denim is a universal material among all workers, and has become so popular that non-Hutterite men often get married in Denim tuxedos.
Non-Hutterite women are discouraged from dressing provocatively, or from wearing pants, but no law is in place to regulate this. It's simply up to the traditionalism of any given community. In some, it's even common to see public nudity.

Military Numbers: 20,760
20,000 English servicemen
230 German ministers
200 First Nations servicemen
100 French servicemen
230 Company Commanders

Military:

The Gottesland military is populated exclusively by non-Germans, with the exception of unarmed ministers.

Soldiers operate in groupings of 102. 100 servicemen, 1 minister, and 1 commander. Within these companies are soldiers of various rank, but they all work together as a unit, and only the commander has the final say on any given decision. In the event that the commander becomes incapacitated, the minister steps in as the company's leader, until a new commander can be assigned.

The majority of the military consists of foot-mounted servicemen, armed with rifles and swords. The nation has a large horse population, but it is reserved for farm work unless during times of war. Still, a small portion of the military is trained in mounted combat, just in case.

Artillery is mostly limited to recommissioned cannons, which were left in working order along various Canadian forts as demonstrative set-pieces before the war.

The uniform of the military deviates from one company to another, but is generally green camo, coupled with a coloured beret. The most accomplished companies of Gottesland's military are known for wearing blue berets, inspiring a great many folk ballads about this quality.

During times of war, many soldiers are outfitted in heavy metallic armour, forged in the haphazard style of Ned Kelly.

Being a landlocked power, Gottesland has no navy, and technological limits don't allow for an air force. Every soldier is either an infantryman, a specialist, or an artillery operator.

Steampunk Nations At War!

Color me interested

@Smoke With Me

Awesome, well feel free to hop in.

THIS IS SO SUSPENSEFUL

Meanwhile, in Canada,

Prime Minister Trudeau gets ready to meet the press.