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King Touk Merys


An arrow swiped through the air, cutting through the air like an eagle. A bright green wisp followed it, stopping at it's target: a light brown pheasant. Dinner with friends.

"Wonderful sir, splendid! Simply incredible! You've still got it, Your Highness!" I hope that I can be just as spry..."

Merys tried to drown out his servant's compliments. In old age, it was as if simply rising from the bed each morning was a miracle, and the neverending commendations and endorsements only grew larger and more lengthy from anyone that wasn't close to him. Except for Jopilia, his personal butler/maid/guard. Although they had known each other for decades, Jopilia seemed to think that Merys' very existence was a marvel.

Standing at just over five feet tall, Merys was just a tad shorter than the rest of his people. He was agile, sharp, and limber for being somewhat elderly, just over 50 years old. One might have even mistaken him for lanky, but they would have been quickly proved wrong by his haste. He wore simple hunting clothes, with a crown atop his head made from woven twigs and brush. He dressed practically and comfortably, as anyone should.

The green wisp examined the corpse. An arrow straight to the chest. Dead on impact. Is was quite a good shot, in fact, and the wisp flew around the body in excitement as Merys and Jopilia climbed down, examining the catch. As they approached, the wisp retreated, and flew inside of Merys through his torso.

"Not too bad." spoke Merys. "This should be enough. Let's head back."

Merys retrieved his arrow and cleaned the outside a bit before tossing it into his knapsack. Inside lay two other pheasants and some gonkri fruit, which were the soft, orange, and somewhat large spawn of the Gonkri tree itself. The nutritional value of the Gonkri fruit itself would be enough for a meal, but the pheasant would be a nice addition to a fine meal. Then the two began their journey back.

This was a dense part of the forest, just between Acrofti, a small military encampment, and Yelipi, the capital of Kuliria, and where Merys lived. The two older Lleylian men swung from tree to tree, dodging branches, thick brush, and even other animals. Their movement was almost melodic. It was as if they knew exactly where to grab the branches before even arriving. A bright green light glowed from within Merys as he made his trek alongside Jopilia. Dark greens and browns blurred in the wind past Merys' vision, ostensibly blowing back the graying fur on his body. They had arrived before ten minutes had passed, barely breaking a sweat.

Yelipi laid before them in a very dense part of the forest, with more trees and assembled wooden bridges making up the "wall" surrounding the city. The entire place was packed together, covering only roughly four square miles of territory. Most of the constructions were built upon the treetops, just below and inside of the canopies. Several buildings lay upon the forest floor, connecting to the treetops by crank elevators and climbing nets. Members of the royal guard recognized Merys immediately, letting him and his manservant through. They stopped in a poorer district of the marketplace, and Merys turned to Jopilia.

"Leave me for now." demanded Merys. "I have personal matters to attend to. Thank you for-"

Of course, Jopilia interrupted.

"No, sir, are you sure? You still have several meetings to attend to this evening! I know how you are, and you'll forget, and before... Sir?"

Before the servant had time to finish, Merys quickly departed from Jopilia, understanding that he would get nowhere with that conversation. At least the thanks had been given, as well as counsel received. Jopilia returned to the wooden castle, chores ever on his mind.



Merys made his way through the weaving bridges and stalls of the marketplace, an exceedingly unorganized mess where vendors could attempt to sell anything they could get their hands on, so long as it was within the bounds of law. It was also a very filthy place, where vagrants and the ill took residence. It was a place that Merys visited often.

He spotted a Swantiri family of three huddled together by a fire for warmth. It wasn't much; just a few limbs and sprigs circled in a pile. Merys approached them in humility, bowing and introducing himself. He asked to sit and eat with them.

That night, Merys dined on a hearty meal with an unfortunate family.

These are the people that Merys fought for.
KULIRIA


Nation: Kuliria

Race: Lleylian (70%) Swantiri (15%) Other (15%)

Race description(s): The Lleylian are a trading, swashbuckling, and general merrymaking race living within the Green Forests of Arl, as well as claiming outposts in several other smaller forests. They are bipedal, dexterous individuals with shades or brown or black fur covering their entire body except for their face, palms, and feet. Their mouth and nose are rounded, protruding from their face in a soft manner.
Most members of their race have adapted to using the common tongue, as they heavily rely on trade and commerce for their core society. Several Lleylian Elders still speak the Old Tongue, teaching anyone who will receive. Stereotypically, they are quick-minded, communicate without hesitation, and generally appear to be over-eager about most things. This can lead to conflict rather quickly and unexpectedly with those unfamiliar with their ways.

The Swantiri that reside within Kuliria are what's left of what was once a much larger and prosperous population. They are slightly larger than the average man, and they are covered in varying shades of white and brown feathers. Years ago, members of the Swantri race soared above every land, but only a very small number have this ability today. They are bipedal as well, walking near-upright. They have claws at the ends of their wings for gripping and fighting.
After the end of the Gretik Struggle, a war between the Swantiri and Lleylian that had been going on since the Great Shift, the Swantri would have been wiped out entirely if not for the intervention of Men. It ended with a Lleylian victory, thus the much larger population.

Culture:
The Lleylian were once a very proud and illustrious people, with many wise and enlightened individuals. Lleylian schools were once leading the way in teaching across the lands, from history and the arts to combat and war. Just before the Gretik Struggle, a military uprising took the king and his company by surprise, killing and overthrowing the government. This led to a war with the Swantiri, a flying race that shares the Green Forests of Arl with the Lleylian. By the end of the war, the Lleylian had become a divided culture, struggling to remain together.

In the present day, the Lleylian have united under one king, King Merys of Band Tifli. There are three major Bands within Kuliria: Tifli, Drengil, Hosfolipi, and Yelipi. Each region specializes differently, and that will be described later.

Generally, the Lleylian serve as bards and fletchers, relying on their quick wit and slight of hand for their lifestyle. They are the entertainers of the world, with groups of musicians and actors traveling far and wide, performing anywhere they can equally make money and spread joy. In times of battle, they stick to the trees, using their cover to their advantage.

Most Lleylian no longer believe in a god, but a few elders still speak the Old Tounge, and claim to have seen visions of ancient divinity. A small cult in Hosfolipi has devoted themselves to discovering what the elders are able to see, and have began to seek out the Old Gods of the Forest.

The Swantiri was a very intelligent race, seen throughout as one of the most scholarly and scientific races. Their advancements in the fields of science and medicine can almost be compared to the wonders of magical healing, but are just shy of reaching magical capabilities.

All Swantiri children are, at a very young age, started on their path of science or medicine, and sorted into varying fields based on early testing. They have sustained this lifestyle for a very long time, and continue this tradition in present times. They build schools, and many members serve as teachers across the lands.

The Swantiri also follow a pantheon, the Flying God of Arl, also known as Aleriun in some ancient scripts. Recently, however, many Swantiri have given up their religious beliefs due to the last war, blaming their god for their suffering. The few that still believe, and believe strongly, have been recorded seeing a giant, glowing bird of some kind flying over Drengil.

Homeland Geography:
Both races reside primarily within the Green Forests of Arl, with all three of their major Bands creating a triangular pattern, covering nearly the entirety of the forests.

Capital:

Yelipi:
This is the capital of Kuliria. It is a small region, tucked away into the treetops in southwest Kuliria. Below the trees, there are buildings on the forest floor to cater towards those that do not possess an adequate climbing ability, and crank-powered elevators to take guests to the treetops. It spans only several square miles, consisting of the castle and a small, surrounding town. This is where all of the Bands convene for various reasons, sending their leaders to discuss issues regarding the nation as a whole. Pop. 40,000

Notable Cities:

(Note: The populations of these cities do not only include the city in question, but also its immediate surrounding territories.)

Tifli:
This is the largest city in Kuliria. It resides at the southeast corner of the nation. Just off the coast, the city is within the treetops until it reaches the shoreline, with a great deal of it resting upon the beaches and built structures on the oceanside. Some of the nation's only self-sustainable fishing occurs here, with the docks doubling as a port for traders. The Commerce Guild resides within the city, and it serves as a school for all Lleylian that wish to learn trade. Pop. 4,000,000

Drengil:
Drengil primarily serves as a home for the Swantiri and their culture, and it lies on the northernmost tip of the Green Forests of Arl. After the Peace Accords of Kuliria, Drengil was transformed into a haven for the remaining Swantiri as a place for them to grow and thrive as a people. Technically, they are still part of Kuliria, and they are within the Lleylian sphere of influence, but they live very differently from everyone else. The famed College of Swanti lies within the city, serving as the chief school for all things science and medicine. 80% of Drengil's population consists of the Swantiri, and the entirety of the city lie within the treetops. Pop. 3,000,000

Hosfolipi:
A city basking in the arts, Hosfolipi is the entertainment capital of Kuliria. Nearly every traveling actor, musician, circus, or fair originate from this city. Taverns and brothels line the streets on the dirtier parts of town, while many amphitheaters and entertainment halls sprinkle the nicer parts. The Actors Guild and Musician's Guild were built here, and many budding performers from all over the world try their luck here, joining the guilds to hone their craft. The entirety of Hosfolipi is built within a clearing. Pop. 1,000,000

Average City/Town/Settlement:
The layout of most settlements consist of platforms among the trees, with some hollowed out. Many settlements contain parts that reach the ground, bolstering trade and communication. There are a few towns that are completely grounded, with these being a little larger.

Major Exports:
- Timber
- Precious Jewels
- Gonkri Fruit
- Fletching Weapons
- Instruments

Major Imports:
- Stone
- Steel
- Meat
- Textiles

Army:
Lleylian children are taught self-defense from a very young age. There isn't a standing army, but each Band is required to send a number of able-bodied citizens in times of conflict or war, although the compliance varies throughout the nation.

Fighting Potential (in persons):
Tifli: 90,000
Drengil: 75,000
Hosfolipi: 50,000
Yelipi: 10,000
Minor Bands: 40,000
Total Potential: 265,000

Navy:
There is no sailing navy of Kuliria, but if banded together, a force could be built.

Magic:
There is no known magic practiced by the citizens or administrators of Kuliria.
"Well that's lovely." said Terry as he strolled into the inn. "I do love a good nose on my cheek! I'll call you Henry."

Terry climbed on top of the barkeep's counter and shouted in an incomprehensible language of some sort, only stopping to take his breath. After nearly 30 seconds of continued shouting, Terry stopped and pointed to his new nose.

"This is Henry! Come on everyone, raise your glasses!" Terry raised a bottle of Scotch. "To Henry!"

Terry drank the whole bottle in one swig. When he had finished, Terry fell to the floor and laid still. A goofy grin came upon his face as he laid down on his belly. It wasn't long before a posh, moustached man wearing a suit and wielding a cane had approached him, kicking his leg.

"Are you alright there, chap?" he asked. "DOCTOR! Is there a doctor in here?" He began to ask various people in the bar, saying "Anyone?" to every person he saw.
"Oh, I'm Terry!"

Terry awkwardly reached his hand out in the general direction of Hinge and Lyana as to shake their hands, and after leaving his hand there for some time after waiting, he dropped to to the ground, yelling in pain as his arm hit the smashed cobblestone. After a few moments of tending to his hand, Terry clambered up from the road and onto his feet.

"Follow your nose, for the fruity taste that shows!" He said, as his arm flew up from his side and began to point deeper into town. He began to march in the direction he was pointing. "Let's goooooooooooooo!" he shouted as he continued marching.

It was at that time that a young boy had run out from an alleyway and approached Terry.

"Food, sir! Please!" begged the boy. Terry took one look at the boy and drunkenly swung his arm at him, knocking him to the ground. Terry continued on, whistling as he went.
Terry shoved the squirrel back into his pocket just as the strange man had grappled him. Terror ripped through Terry like a knife through butter. Almost immediately a sense of curiosity came upon him, and he was no longer scared.

"There isn't any sort of pots in the pea pod, is there?" Terry said calmly. "I'm Terry. I'm a man, just-" Terry paused to sigh. "Just looking for his place in life. And you? Who are you?"

Terry fell limp in the man's grasp.
Terry stopped in the middle of the road, and stumbled a little, because he didn't prepare himself to stop. He slowly stumbled around to eventually turn his body to face the direction of some sort of loud scratching noise. Terry reached into his pocket and pulled out his squirrel, very slowly and eagerly. Once again, he knocked himself off-balance.

The "well-dressed" man began to wildly beat the squirrel on the cobblestone, as if beginning a tribal dance.

The reasoning behind this was unknown.
It was overcast. That's how it usually was in Britain, but this time it was a bit darker. The ash of the atomic bombs covered the sky, darkening it even further. It was beginning to cover everything in sight, making the whole land a dark, deep black color.

Terry looked up from his stream of sewage. As his vision came back to normal, the first thing he saw was an ugly creature lying next to him. It looked to be some sort of squirrel, it's tail twitching about. Terry picked it up and tried to brush it off, only to miscalculate his strength and crush the poor animal's head against the ground.

Almost immediately, Terry noticed the obstruction that his suit jacket had placed on his arm movement. He ripped off the arms of his jacket, and threw one to the side. The other one he wrapped around his head like a bandana. His reasoning for this was nonexistent. Then, he smeared the blood from the squirrel onto the front of the sleeve wrapped around his head in a sort of "U" shape. There was no reasoning for this either. Terry shoved the squirrel into his front pocket and began his walk towards the village.

As he approached, he noticed a sign with the town's name on it. Terry was having some trouble reading it, so he took a closer look and wiped off the ash.
Towncastershire
Population: 208 190 164

Terry was excited to see what would await him in the village of Towncastershire. He began to walk past the sign and down the road to see what he would find.
The year is 2046.

North Korea has been secretly developing it's nuclear capabilities for the past forty years, and unbeknownst to the rest of the world, they have been testing them... successfully. In an effort to make the aging Kim Jong-un the Eternal President of All of Mankind and the Earth, North Korea launched an ambush on any nation that may have presented itself as a threat to their superior power. Which was every single nation on Earth, save for Russia, China, and Cuba. The world is infected with severe radiation, driving people mad and accelerating the evolution rate of certain species.

In this wacky world, we follow a group of ragtag British explorers traversing the wastelands of the British Isles. The risks are great, the rewards are slim, and the fun is neverending. So climb on board and join these travellers on The Right Honourable Adventure of the British Isles! Their adventure begins in a small village just outside of Oxford...

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