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WINTER IS COMING with exceptional frequency
No no.
Lets say you have a single army of 10k, and you claim a territory. That would raise the total number of troops you could have in your nation in total, not that army, and it would not grant an immediate extra 5k soldiers.
A better example would be if you attacked with an army of 20k, your maximum possible army size. You claim a territory, and your army cap goes up to 25k. You would still need to keep adding 2k soldiers per season to get up to that max.
Lets say you have a single army of 10k, and you claim a territory. That would raise the total number of troops you could have in your nation in total, not that army, and it would not grant an immediate extra 5k soldiers.
A better example would be if you attacked with an army of 20k, your maximum possible army size. You claim a territory, and your army cap goes up to 25k. You would still need to keep adding 2k soldiers per season to get up to that max.
Eternal_Flame said
since my army cap is larger now.
Not hugely sure what you're asking, but army replenishment stays the same. 2000 troops per season, no matter how many territories you have. It just increases the max troops you can have.
Eternal_Flame said
quick question:so its up to me to determine how many militia and army that i lost?and about the replenishment, is it per army or for all army? can i add more Troop to the present one in order to reinforce it?
-He tells you the numbers. You can assign those losses as you please. generally, it's in good spirit to spread losses evenly, and not pile all the losses onto militia or something.
-Per all armies. You get your replenishment value over all armies per season. In my case, I get 2000 to put back into armies every season.
-??
I wouldn't worry too much about it if we don't hear from other players any time soon. Synth is here, yeah, but it would be a bit strange to try to run the whole RP without the rest of the cast. If you don't see anything by Sunday, conserve your time.
.
ARMY CARDS
GERMANY
The feast on that night had been worthy of the Gods themselves. At the moment the sky was darkest and the Sunrise was furthest from the Isarimer Warhorde, fires were lit and the greatest yet gathering of Isarimer on this strange, alien world commenced.
The sight would have been utterly horrifying to a Human witnessing the unholy celebrations. It was no wonder that the Isarimer were heralded as Demons from the darkest of Hells. Remains, both Human and Isarimer, were piled fifty feet into the air. Thousand of bodies looming over everything on the horizon, attracting flies and pestilence, rot and decay. Still, the barbarians feasted. Gathering by the hundreds, the pile of flesh was attacked with as much abandon as when it still walked the Earth. The voracious Warhorde consumed every last morsel and remain in hours, devouring it with insatiable hunger. Only the Isarimer were capable of such a morbid display of hatred and wrath. But it served as a consolidation to the rampaging horde, solidifying both their physical and mental grip on their land. The first feast would historically signify the beginnings of a Great Hunt: a period of Isarimer rage so horrible that not even the recently formed Crusades could hope to stand firm. This ‘Pope’ who had ordered the mass gathering of religious soldiers to fight back against the assault from Gorika was a man who had not yet seen the Isarimer with his own eyes. He considered them demons, and LesaLikl planned to prove that assumption more right than he had ever anticipated.
Despite this, Lucifash’s legions poured from the South, finally finding their way from Gorika. The distraction they would cause would be useful to the Isarimer. They were rash, single minded. Much like the Isarimer, but served only to honour their false God, and display a certain arrogance in how intimidating they truly were. Nothing was more frightening to the hearts of men and Gorikans alike than the Isarimer horde. There was something primal in the promise of the Isarimer: not everlasting damnation or torture, but the immediate fear of a most painful death, and a less than honourable disposal of their remains. Crude, but effective.
More Isarimer would come forth, certainly by the time that the Human assembly could march their way to Germany, and LesaLikl would be ready for their puny attempt at battle. For now, the Isarimer would feast, and, with hungering eyes, watch, wait and bide their time. The Humans would die.
Fuck the Sunrise.
LITHUANIA
The Phoenix Crescent and the Bloodwalkers had merged into the Bloodstalker Warhorde who were poised for battle for so long. Like so many nations before it, Belarus could not have been ready for the Isarimer storm. The Bloodstalker horde had swelled in size, nearly forming a Warhorde all of it’s own. A huge tidal crashing of Berserkers and Lesser Breeds rampaging through the country, searching for the seat of power, the main defences, so that they could be consumed and made a part of the Isarimer Hunting Grounds, too. It would be glorious.
ARMY CARDS
GERMANY
The feast on that night had been worthy of the Gods themselves. At the moment the sky was darkest and the Sunrise was furthest from the Isarimer Warhorde, fires were lit and the greatest yet gathering of Isarimer on this strange, alien world commenced.
The sight would have been utterly horrifying to a Human witnessing the unholy celebrations. It was no wonder that the Isarimer were heralded as Demons from the darkest of Hells. Remains, both Human and Isarimer, were piled fifty feet into the air. Thousand of bodies looming over everything on the horizon, attracting flies and pestilence, rot and decay. Still, the barbarians feasted. Gathering by the hundreds, the pile of flesh was attacked with as much abandon as when it still walked the Earth. The voracious Warhorde consumed every last morsel and remain in hours, devouring it with insatiable hunger. Only the Isarimer were capable of such a morbid display of hatred and wrath. But it served as a consolidation to the rampaging horde, solidifying both their physical and mental grip on their land. The first feast would historically signify the beginnings of a Great Hunt: a period of Isarimer rage so horrible that not even the recently formed Crusades could hope to stand firm. This ‘Pope’ who had ordered the mass gathering of religious soldiers to fight back against the assault from Gorika was a man who had not yet seen the Isarimer with his own eyes. He considered them demons, and LesaLikl planned to prove that assumption more right than he had ever anticipated.
Despite this, Lucifash’s legions poured from the South, finally finding their way from Gorika. The distraction they would cause would be useful to the Isarimer. They were rash, single minded. Much like the Isarimer, but served only to honour their false God, and display a certain arrogance in how intimidating they truly were. Nothing was more frightening to the hearts of men and Gorikans alike than the Isarimer horde. There was something primal in the promise of the Isarimer: not everlasting damnation or torture, but the immediate fear of a most painful death, and a less than honourable disposal of their remains. Crude, but effective.
More Isarimer would come forth, certainly by the time that the Human assembly could march their way to Germany, and LesaLikl would be ready for their puny attempt at battle. For now, the Isarimer would feast, and, with hungering eyes, watch, wait and bide their time. The Humans would die.
Fuck the Sunrise.
LITHUANIA
The Phoenix Crescent and the Bloodwalkers had merged into the Bloodstalker Warhorde who were poised for battle for so long. Like so many nations before it, Belarus could not have been ready for the Isarimer storm. The Bloodstalker horde had swelled in size, nearly forming a Warhorde all of it’s own. A huge tidal crashing of Berserkers and Lesser Breeds rampaging through the country, searching for the seat of power, the main defences, so that they could be consumed and made a part of the Isarimer Hunting Grounds, too. It would be glorious.
Like I said, I am. But I worry that too many people have now wandered off that it is effectively dead. I'd be pretty amazed if everybody came rushing back at once, but I don't expect it.
It's not all doom and gloom though! The RP has been a GM learning experience, and this leaves me with more time to work on something similar, but bigger and more impressive in the same vein.
It's not all doom and gloom though! The RP has been a GM learning experience, and this leaves me with more time to work on something similar, but bigger and more impressive in the same vein.
You're a god-damn trooper.
Take as much time as you need. I don't think we're in a huge hurry. If you do need a hand with anything that's in my capacity to aid with, though, do give me a shout.
.
ARMY CARDS
---
HAMBURG
The Isarimer crashed into the Hamburg defenders with the force of a thousand armies, and the bloodshed was unlike anything this world had yet seen. Isarimer steel lashed at the humans, eviscerating them beyond all recognition, severing them limb from limb and spilling every ounce of blood pulsing through their puny bodies. The Human Emperor had found the courage to assault the Crescent Phoenix under the pre tense of a preemptive strike, leaving both the city and heir flank vulnerable to attack.
This had cost them dearly.
They realised their folly too late, and the slaughter was glorious and terrifying. Few survived. Those who did fled into the forests like frightened animals as the remains of those they considered friends and brothers were feasted upon by the blight of Gorika. The Lesser breeds took losses, as was expected, and all three units of Berserkers took lighter, but noticeable causalities.
Among the bloodshed, a storm gathered. From the fierce savagery of the melee, something towered above the combatants: a raging beast whose anger put to shame the combined rage of the thousands fighting in his name. In his wake, Human bodies were split apart, flayed, skinned, slaughtered and annihilated. A storm of blood and flesh erupting in his wake. A pair of cursed blades spinning like a whirlwind spelled death for any human attackers to come into contact.
There was a pause in the combat for a moment as conjoining of warriors took place. A culmination of the ferocity of both sides, a face-off of the utmost importance. LesaLikl stopped his rage for a moment, as he was confronted by none other than his quarry: Emperor Otto IV, who took the opportunity to apparently make attempts at intimidating his foe.
“Creature!” he had shouted to his much larger adversary. “This world is no place for your demon spawn! We will send you back to Satan and his realm of fire!”
Otto drew his sword, making an example to his men who had found the time to take notice of his heroics.
“Bravery will win this day! We will show no mercy in the face of your tide, and we will show no mercy in delivering you back to your master! The forces of God, in his eternal name, will show you what Humans are capable of! We are the masters of our world, and no foe can break our faith!”
He began to charge at LesaLikl, who merely stood, listening to the empty words of this mewling rat.
“I will put you down and send you back to Hell, beast! I will be your bane!”
Emperor Otto got within attacking range, and attempted to draw his sword across the monster that faced him. Instead, LesaLikl slapped away the sword with which his foe intended to strike with as if it were nothing at all, and gripped his quarry by the neck, lifting him high into the air.
“..Wait! No!” He had cried. “I shall not be defeated! Not like this!” He began to scream and sob. “This is not our Lord’s plan! He will not be defied!”
“I…” The Isarimer spoke. “Will tear out your God’s eyes. Fuck the Sunrise.”
LesaLikl grabbed Otto by both arms, and with minuscule effort, ripped both of them from his body with an utterly sickening crunch, wrenching the bones from their sockets and decimating the muscles that held them in place. He kneeled down to the man that had dropped to the mud, screaming in incomprehensible pain, writhing in his own blood that poured from his body. His words were beyond incomprehensible.
“If you see your God, tell him that all his followers will die,”
With that, he plunged his hand down, directly into the chest of his foe, ripping free Otto’s heart from his chest. LesaLikl raised it to their air with a mighty battle cry as it still tried to pump the blood of the man who had crossed the Isarimer commander, serving as an inspiration to the Berserkers fighting in his name.
Otto’s eyes waned and drooped. They glazed and started into the distance, but the man lived. Not for long, but he held on to the very little life he had left. Maybe he saw something in the light at the end? Maybe he saw that his life was folly, that his actions were made in vain? LesaLikl did not care. Just another Human. Just another bag of meat for the feast.
He raised the cursed blade Sunfall, and brought it down into Otto’s body with such force that the flesh was pulverised. Whatever life remained within the man was extinguished as his body was cleaved directly in two with one last, fell strike from the lord of the Isarimer…
ARMY CARDS
---
HAMBURG
The Isarimer crashed into the Hamburg defenders with the force of a thousand armies, and the bloodshed was unlike anything this world had yet seen. Isarimer steel lashed at the humans, eviscerating them beyond all recognition, severing them limb from limb and spilling every ounce of blood pulsing through their puny bodies. The Human Emperor had found the courage to assault the Crescent Phoenix under the pre tense of a preemptive strike, leaving both the city and heir flank vulnerable to attack.
This had cost them dearly.
They realised their folly too late, and the slaughter was glorious and terrifying. Few survived. Those who did fled into the forests like frightened animals as the remains of those they considered friends and brothers were feasted upon by the blight of Gorika. The Lesser breeds took losses, as was expected, and all three units of Berserkers took lighter, but noticeable causalities.
Among the bloodshed, a storm gathered. From the fierce savagery of the melee, something towered above the combatants: a raging beast whose anger put to shame the combined rage of the thousands fighting in his name. In his wake, Human bodies were split apart, flayed, skinned, slaughtered and annihilated. A storm of blood and flesh erupting in his wake. A pair of cursed blades spinning like a whirlwind spelled death for any human attackers to come into contact.
There was a pause in the combat for a moment as conjoining of warriors took place. A culmination of the ferocity of both sides, a face-off of the utmost importance. LesaLikl stopped his rage for a moment, as he was confronted by none other than his quarry: Emperor Otto IV, who took the opportunity to apparently make attempts at intimidating his foe.
“Creature!” he had shouted to his much larger adversary. “This world is no place for your demon spawn! We will send you back to Satan and his realm of fire!”
Otto drew his sword, making an example to his men who had found the time to take notice of his heroics.
“Bravery will win this day! We will show no mercy in the face of your tide, and we will show no mercy in delivering you back to your master! The forces of God, in his eternal name, will show you what Humans are capable of! We are the masters of our world, and no foe can break our faith!”
He began to charge at LesaLikl, who merely stood, listening to the empty words of this mewling rat.
“I will put you down and send you back to Hell, beast! I will be your bane!”
Emperor Otto got within attacking range, and attempted to draw his sword across the monster that faced him. Instead, LesaLikl slapped away the sword with which his foe intended to strike with as if it were nothing at all, and gripped his quarry by the neck, lifting him high into the air.
“..Wait! No!” He had cried. “I shall not be defeated! Not like this!” He began to scream and sob. “This is not our Lord’s plan! He will not be defied!”
“I…” The Isarimer spoke. “Will tear out your God’s eyes. Fuck the Sunrise.”
LesaLikl grabbed Otto by both arms, and with minuscule effort, ripped both of them from his body with an utterly sickening crunch, wrenching the bones from their sockets and decimating the muscles that held them in place. He kneeled down to the man that had dropped to the mud, screaming in incomprehensible pain, writhing in his own blood that poured from his body. His words were beyond incomprehensible.
“If you see your God, tell him that all his followers will die,”
With that, he plunged his hand down, directly into the chest of his foe, ripping free Otto’s heart from his chest. LesaLikl raised it to their air with a mighty battle cry as it still tried to pump the blood of the man who had crossed the Isarimer commander, serving as an inspiration to the Berserkers fighting in his name.
Otto’s eyes waned and drooped. They glazed and started into the distance, but the man lived. Not for long, but he held on to the very little life he had left. Maybe he saw something in the light at the end? Maybe he saw that his life was folly, that his actions were made in vain? LesaLikl did not care. Just another Human. Just another bag of meat for the feast.
He raised the cursed blade Sunfall, and brought it down into Otto’s body with such force that the flesh was pulverised. Whatever life remained within the man was extinguished as his body was cleaved directly in two with one last, fell strike from the lord of the Isarimer…
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