Sadko

To Lund ap Lunds [ Early Middle Ages NRP | IntChk and Sign-Ups ]

Fortunes is very lucky with his vassals, unlike my previous ones, yes, Flooby, the hunchbacked old man who ran into woods naked on all fours howling and doing vicious, stupid shit. That one.

To Lund ap Lunds [ Early Middle Ages NRP | IntChk and Sign-Ups ]

From what I calculated in my head, from all the fiefs I tax 57700, from my two towns I tax 42000, I get 99700 in annual tax. And I get to spend it on my military. OHOHOHOHOHOH.

To Lund ap Lunds [ Early Middle Ages NRP | IntChk and Sign-Ups ]

By the way, I'll not be using Sellafour, I'll be making another unique country and house, don't worry, it'll have a Badass Head of the House, but female.

To Lund ap Lunds [ Early Middle Ages NRP | IntChk and Sign-Ups ]

I'm talking about starting points to make my kingdom, not the moneys.

To Lund ap Lunds [ Early Middle Ages NRP | IntChk and Sign-Ups ]

Can I not spend all my points but exchange it for lots of moneys at the start of the game? There's alot, and I'm certainly dumbfounded on how to spend it all judging by the type of country I'm going to do.

To Lund ap Lunds

I'm going to say bout my country. My rebellious vassals brutally murdered my lady wife in a 'Red wedding' type of ambush and I'm coldly dealing with them like Tywin Lannister.

To Lund ap Lunds

With a blank, empty gaze at the map, Qyptos glanced at the servant, and wrinkled his nose at the porridge. 'Begone.' He commanded, and without a mere moment, the servant was gone, and so was the food. I have no intention to eat this shit while there are two armies marching at my door. Two armies from two sides at Thrycetun. He had to know their answer, too. Mayhaps, they will see Pelatarian and Attolian armies, and surrender. Heh, that would be perfect.

He looked up from the map onto Jonah and Damon, and nodded with an acknowledgement of their presence, along the table painted into a myriad of colors were seated other commanders, but the only one of significance enough to be recognized by Qyptos was Akyptos, clad in his jerkin adorned with red lace, on his back was a great cloak of House Takhar. He dresses up as if he's crowned emperor, Qyptos thought, sending a peculiar, disapproving look at Akyptos. 'I welcome you to my lands, and under my roof.' He lifted a goblet of wine. It was good enough, approximately five years old and harsh on the tongue.

Jonah lifted his own goblet to match the toast, and Damon quickly followed suit. Jonah was adorned in his set of steel battle armor, sans the helmet. A gold band across each of his shoulders signified him as the Pelatarian Commander. The outfit was simple, yet powerful; almost an exact description of Peterus himself. Damon, too, chose the spartan approach, opting for a quality silk tunic of simple design. Jonah stood, and bowed his head out of respect to Lord Qyptos.
"We thank you for the warm welcome, my Lord." Returning to his seat, he turned his head to address the group as a whole. "It is no secret that this rebellion affects everyone west of Bernwick," he admitted, referring to the Church's seat of power located in Central Lundland. "Lord Cole wishes for it to be put down at once and your realm once again at peace - and I am here to assist in that goal any way in which I can."

Qyptos nodded. 'Good. My scouts report that an army of four hundred Immortals, three hundred light cavalry, two hundred crossbowmen, and two hundred fifty raider cavalry had arrived in Thrycetun. Their intent is to take the manor.' He took a long swallow of the harsh, sour wine. 'What I need is that your armies attack them. Good?' He sent a thoughtful gaze into the depths of his goblet's contents, then back at Jonah and Damon.

Jonah considered this information thoughtfully, before responding. "My Lord, our army is well equipped and trained, but we number only five hundred. And though your report indicates that their troops are primarily light skirmishers and cavalry, they would overwhelm us with numbers alone. We can fight them and will, but we require reinforcements - either from Attolia or any loyal Sellafour soldiers - or we will face utter defeat."

Damon, listening intently the entire time, finally spoke up. "Pelaterian troops will be coming up from the south, through rebel-controlled Yedarbahan, and then through Freebird. We will have to rely on poor or delayed communication between the two rebel factions - after all, they share no land border. We may be able to take them by surprise, and flank them should Attolia attack from the east, or your own troops attack from Islemonster or Copperstream." Jonah nodded, adding:
"If our troops can drive them back north, your own could halt any plan of retreat."

Qyptos grimaced, his sullen eyes scanning first Jonah, then Damon. Qyptos had a bad impression of Jonah, who, it seems, used too many sweet words. Damon, on the other hand, seemed clever. Yuragos was mostly quiet, gazing at the map. It was an empty gaze, his eyes showed no emotions, it seemed he was a dead man in fancy rags, staring at painted paper. Yuragos cocked his head. 'You should hit them in the flank, we'll move out the majority of our army.' Qyptos once again grimaced, turning his gaze at his heir. Cocky, but good enough. He nodded, once more sending an eerie stare at the Pelatarian guests, his eyes pale as curdled milk.

Jonah and Damon both nodded in agreement, one delayed only by a mere second or two of the other. The plan of attack was coming together well - provided that all actually goes according to plan. Though the odds were placed in the coalition's favor, another variable introduced could shift the balance. Taking a moment's pause, Jonah then continued. "Additionally, as you already know, our fleet is en route to the rebel stronghold in order to start a blockade. We expect little resistance at sea, if any. Am I right to conclude that the rebels would not likely have any naval forces?"

'Aye, the bastards are sly enough to even hire so much men. But they won't have any ships.' He drained his goblet, and pushed it to the center of the table. His court jester, Banan, jumped around in his suit of yellow, a smile glowing on his pale, old, wrinkled face. Qyptos' sullen eyes pierced deep into the fool's face, and he gestured him to begone, to which he obliged. 'The rebels dance to the devil's song! The righteous ruler, the r-o-o-ler!' he shouted as he left. Who taught him that? Aky or Yura, no doubt. Although Akyptos was a brilliant soldier, and a rider of some repute. Akyptos was a quiet, but a proud, arrogant, nay, cocky lad. Qyptos didn't like him. He was his mother's child. Time to learn, Aky. Mayhaps you'll go to war, soon.

[Collaboration With FortunesFaded, thanks mate.]

To Lund ap Lunds

wait, I am still making a collab with FortunesFaded, he needs to answer.

To Lund ap Lunds

Hell yes, posted. :-) Qyptos is the bestos. I intend to edit out some things and add more paragraphs, too. From the point of view of Zilanta, Yuragos, and Akyptos.

To Lund ap Lunds

The men snaked for their weapons. Taking a momentary glance at his, he found himself looking at an old, oaken quarterstaff. Good enough, he thought. He was a clever, seasoned, methodical fighter, this was a villager conscripted into the guard. He never went easy, even on fresh recruits. He wanted to see awe in their eyes. He wanted to inspire awe. Edfasd, his name. He looked into the conscripts eyes, then at his hands, also an old, oaken quarterstaff. At least he understands the etiquette of sparring, maybe he's good enough, he thought.

Edfasd lunged forward, sending an overcut at Qyptos' face. The lord spun his quarterstaff and in an instant, smacked the opponent's weapon out of course. Dancing closer, he bent his legs and thrust at the man's bare chest, forcing him back. Edfasd groaned, stepped closer, and jerked his right hand back, bringing his left forward in a horizontal, brusque attack, then changed to strike with his right, forcing the left back. The ghastly pale lord spread his arms further on the quarterstaff, and in a mere moment, he delivered a strong undercut, forcing his opponent's quarterstaff up and passing by his defences. Edfasd tried to pull away, but Qyptos stepped on his foot. Aghast, he grabbed Qyptos by his hair and jerked.

The man only grimaced, and delivered a smack to Edfasd's ear, before grabbing his hand and twisting. Edfasd yielded at once, falling to his knees. He looked up at the man. He feared him. He was doubtless he was terrified of him. Edfasd thought now, Qyptos would strike him and leave him lying on the ground. The lord extended his hand, and helped him up. He wasn't so terrifying, Ed thought.

*

The other, oval pine table has been moved away from the room, and now the place seemed bigger. He wasn't a man of style, nor good enough to furnish his manor lavishly. From his time in his apprenticeship, he has known many trades. Carpentry, stonemasoning, anything. He never stayed on one subject, he moved onto others as soon as he had a grasp of potential to become a master, he never wanted to be a master of carpentry nor stonemasoning nor any others, but he needed to understand how it works. He looked at the rectangular table before him. He touched it, and it was fairly soft. Poplar, he thought. Of course, it was painted, for poplar was never a beautiful kind of wood, not many fancied it into their furniture. Pompous fools, he thought, to care about which piece of wood is in your furniture. It was painted into the crest of his house. Shiny, orange bordure on a shield of a gyronny, silver and golden. Inside, a fear striking green serpent, and at it's sides two poleaxes, shiny, polished, ready to draw blood.

It was ironic, for the serpent did not have the arms to wield those fearful weapons, and now that his scouts informed him, he had resources, but he was dumbfounded on how to use them. He did not want to lose men. He did not want a battle which leaves him vulnerable with the Bogans destroying a neighboring country. It was irksome. Irritating Bogans, always come along to rape your daughter and disembowel your son. And now they've ruined the chance of the Church to help out against the Dewthorns. Woe is me. But even then, Qyptos would chuckle. At least Yuragos is safe and well in the Monastery, and the Bishops take a liking to him. Although even then, anxiety was alive inside him. Why did God reward me with such horrid vassals?

Now he awaited the reply of the Attolians, Lothar Wolff. He decided to give his treacherous vassals a chance. Surrender, and you shall keep your lands and you shall be pardoned. What a cunning plan, he thought. In a matter of mere moments, the table was laden with ink, parchments, and feathers.

To Lord Jon Somberfall said I am capable of mercy and forgiveness, Lord Jon. I have you in my trap, I have countless armies at my disposal, I have several men at your manor. Do not bother scouting nor searching for them, for they shall come from each side. From the sea, from the south, from the east and the west. I am capable of mercy, I say this only once. Surrender, lay down your weapons, and you and your line shall be spared, and your lands left in peace. But dare you refuse this offer, your armies shall be crushed and your line shall end.

I await your answer.

Sincerely,
Lord Qyptos.

To Steward Alabastar said I am capable of mercy and forgiveness, Steward Alabastar. I have you in my trap, I have countless armies at my disposal, I have several men at your manor. Do not bother scouting nor searching for them, for they shall come from each side. From the sea, from the south, from the east and the west. I am capable of mercy, I say this only once. Surrender, lay down your weapons, and you and your line shall be spared, and your lands left in peace. But dare you refuse this offer, your armies shall be crushed and your line shall end.

I await your answer.

Sincerely,
Lord Qyptos.

He sent the trained birds off, it have been some of his most trained birds, white, graceful, beautiful. At the sight of them he smiled, even.