NATION

PASSWORD

Through the ages ( IC, Open)

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Alotopia
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1722
Founded: Oct 16, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Alotopia » Fri Apr 22, 2016 11:53 pm

Image
Rathis Castle
Ect'asearcsi Aborak Rathis
Upper Balcony


Emperor Aborak Rathis rocked back and forth in his chair as he stared across the island towards the mainland. He couldn't see it through the fog, but he knew it was there with the multitude of clans. He could sense the Lords and Kings throughout the land trying to conclude travel pacts and alliances. Obviously preparing for war. And war would come...

It's always about war with these barbarian scum. Who has the biggest army? Who has the most land? It doesn't matter at the end of the day. Because when one empire falls another will come in its place. They lack unity, discipline. They will fall and their empires will crumble. But the En'rot will remain strong, as we have for thousands of years. he thought as he watched the birds suddenly flutter away.

"Your Grace, the Imperial Fleet reports that the spies have been inserted on the coast. They will relay information to us." Said Lord Rothgar, the Master of Whispers.

"Very good, keep me up to date" responded the Emperor.
Alotopia is a Space Empire. So I will role play as such. The Empire of Alotopia contains 114 planets. Lord Avos Jarquen is the World Assembly observer, as he cannot vote on legislation. We are not a member of the WA.
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Albertae
Senator
 
Posts: 4680
Founded: Oct 14, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby Albertae » Sat Apr 23, 2016 9:42 am

The Forsworn Knights wrote:
Albertae wrote:
King Huidemar straightens himself and puts on a very serious face."Godrick, do you understand the power I possess? The 17th king of Prador destroyed 8 kingdoms surrounding Prador in a rage. He destroyed them all sending them back to the stone ages. It severely reduced his kingdom but, the king's after him have spent their lifetimes rebuilding. And I've gotten the kingdom to the point where I can obliterate a kingdom with one command. I will not hesitate to put down your devious and treacherous brother who will stop at nothing to kill you or depose you or usurp the ducal throne from you if you are wed into my bloodline. You will be family to me and I take family personally as the 17th King did. I can destroy your brother and his supporters probally a 1000 times over. And I will stop at nothing to protect my too be family, you."King Huidemar sits back in his seat and calms his expression leaving the young adult amazed at the power that Huidemar wields.

Godrick nodded, offering Huidemar his hand. "Well, your Majesty. Shall we shake on it?"


The Forest outside Avendor, Sir Marcus of Marthart, the second son of Archduke Richard Marthart's Point of View
I smirked as my men cleaned their swords. Around us lay three corpses, men sent by my father to try to monitor my movements. It had only taken me a few minutes to catch on to the same group of woodsmen that always seemed to be hauling logs by whatever path I took. Funny how they also seemed to be dragging the exact same logs.
As my twelve men finished cleaning their swords they stood. The men all wore Chainmail with leather tabards and metal skullcaps, and bore Hand-and-a-half swords with heater shields. I stood up from the log I had been sitting on, gesturing for them to stand as well.
"Saddle up men, I hear there is an attractive and single young queen just a week or so of riding to the west. If we can pick up a few friends along the way, that should only take a couple months total, and we will most likely bring back a small army to wipe that stupid look on Godrick's face."


King Huidemar shakes Sir Godricks hand sealing the trade pact."I will send for my daughter to come for the marriage. Perhaps you'd even like to get to know her. She's such a sweet and intelligent girl I'm sure you'll love her. Scribe, write a trade pact and an alliance pact up. The marriage will seal the alliance. The trade pact was sealed by the hand shake." The scribe writes these two scrolls out and then I sign on both. I then leave it to Sir Godrick to sign.
My Political Compass:
Economic Left/Right: 2.63
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: 3.33
Pro: Trump
Anti: Hillary

It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived. -General George S. Patton
GENERATION 9: Social experiment. When you see this, add one to the generation and copy this into your signature.

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Sceoji
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 144
Founded: Apr 12, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Sceoji » Sat Apr 23, 2016 9:55 am

Morgathis Castle

Province of Merike, Mausuveus, High Kingdom of Sceojus


King Maure'Thebeus Antoire had barely awakened, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he made his way to the royal look-out as was his morning habit, sporting all of the finery necessary for the public to view him.

As he came to the top of the great tower, surrounded by dull grey bricks on all sides and winding stares to his front, he was rewarded with an absolutely wondrous sight upon reaching the top: the tower had been designed to face the rising sun so that it's light might spill through the wondrous stained glass windows on the eastern side.

This caused a dazzling effect of turning the formerly dull, gray room into a vast array of colored light, something that never ceased to amaze King Antoire. 'A beauty, crafted by Sceojian hands.' He thought with a small smile upon his strong features.

Now, he moved to survey the part that truly took his breath away, his plush bear-fur cape dragging along the ground majestically as he gingerly swung the great windows open. Though they were of a thick nature, he still feared marring their wonderful countenance.

As they parted, a cool and gentle breeze wafting the smell of forge fire and breakfast reached the Kings nose, as he gazed upon the Capitol he so proudly called his own. Mausuveus was absolutely picturesque with the early morning light shining upon her, bathing the town in a golden aura.

Smoke wafted up from burning forges, the life-blood of trade for Sceojus as the great blacksmiths buildings began to churn out more fine mettalurgy. The great temple of Maure, rival to even the Kings castle stood off in the distance, great pillars supporting it's roof in the style of the Roman Pantheon.

The sleepy little houses that made up the neighborhood formed a thatched canopy, stone and thachwork their chief construction components. They were interrupted by the occasional inn, or pub here and there.

Over near the river spawn, the great spring that flowed through Mausuveus's center and the purveyor of trade, the foreign merchants geared up for a days business. They travelled here over-land or used the river to navigate their way into the great mountains of the Ara'khat range. They bustled about, preparing their stalls and wares.

Off in the distance, the King could see the great mountains that formed a barrier in a protective manner around the city...it was almost the shape of a bowl, a small plateau where the city was located in the middle and surrounded on most sides by the rocky sentinels.

The king sighed happily at the grandeur and thought 'I could be no happier with my Kingdom...'

(Anyone want to visit, or must I send out diplomacy party's xD we are known for the ore and metal trade, and master craftsmanship)

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Esselman
Minister
 
Posts: 2025
Founded: Mar 23, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Esselman » Sat Apr 23, 2016 1:55 pm

Apostolic Hungary wrote:
Akrópoli, Patrída


After many weeks of sailing forth from and to the mainland, the embassy ship arrived in the great harbor of Akrópoli. Many of the surrounding warships dwarfed the smaller ship as its sailors looked up in awe of the fleet's might. Then as it approached the great dock, the Triach Oratio standing near the helm ordered trumpets to be blown, and the banners run up, while heralds shouted from the bows in both the language of the Maro and the language of Patrída,

"By the witness of Dies Maris the great Lord of the Sea, Coronatur Tomis Regis accepts all the proposals of the King of the Western Islands, and now makes league with him, and sends his son to feast among his allies."

Crowds were already forming at the sound of trumpets and now listened to the speech of the richly-dressed foreigners. Triach Tirios the High King's son turned to Oratio with a cautious face, and asked him, "What say you that we do now?" "Now we wait for a herald of their King," replied the older Triarch, "Then we feast with them a week, and then sail West to seek further alliances with other peoples, as are spoken of in prophecy."


General Theseus,
Mágissa Thálassa (Warship)

Image


The commanding General was tasked with colonization of the first portions of the land acquired in a deal between the two nations, opting to take 1,000 civilians and 500 soldiers to secure the land and acquire resources. As a reward for this expedition, the King and Queen would grant him governance over this portion of land. Just beginning to sail, it would possibly take a day or more to reach the island as it was not very far from the capital city of Akrópoli. On board all was going well, the passengers aiding the shipments as none of them were of the nobility.

Image


General Theseus announced to the embassy ship that the King himself would be offering them a grand feast at sunset today.

"We welcome you to the great city, of the peaceful people of Patrída" Theseus said in a gruff voice.

"We invite you to make yourselves at home in the Pandocheío [Inns] just before the castle grounds" he said, motioning over to servants of the castle as a few minstrels hurried towards their guests, playing instruments and singing songs of merriment

As the guests were ushered to their new temporary homes, the general made his way to the warship turned into a colonization ship. Patrída was known for their naval superiority due to their location and focus on sea faring industries, making them a powerful ally and setting up their own strategic defense.

"We sail within the hour!" announced the general to a crew who groaned and cheered in response as he looked over a form that was kept in the records before each and every ship set sail.

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The Forsworn Knights
Minister
 
Posts: 3138
Founded: Aug 28, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby The Forsworn Knights » Sat Apr 23, 2016 6:44 pm

Albertae wrote:
The Forsworn Knights wrote:Godrick nodded, offering Huidemar his hand. "Well, your Majesty. Shall we shake on it?"


The Forest outside Avendor, Sir Marcus of Marthart, the second son of Archduke Richard Marthart's Point of View
I smirked as my men cleaned their swords. Around us lay three corpses, men sent by my father to try to monitor my movements. It had only taken me a few minutes to catch on to the same group of woodsmen that always seemed to be hauling logs by whatever path I took. Funny how they also seemed to be dragging the exact same logs.
As my twelve men finished cleaning their swords they stood. The men all wore Chainmail with leather tabards and metal skullcaps, and bore Hand-and-a-half swords with heater shields. I stood up from the log I had been sitting on, gesturing for them to stand as well.
"Saddle up men, I hear there is an attractive and single young queen just a week or so of riding to the west. If we can pick up a few friends along the way, that should only take a couple months total, and we will most likely bring back a small army to wipe that stupid look on Godrick's face."


King Huidemar shakes Sir Godricks hand sealing the trade pact."I will send for my daughter to come for the marriage. Perhaps you'd even like to get to know her. She's such a sweet and intelligent girl I'm sure you'll love her. Scribe, write a trade pact and an alliance pact up. The marriage will seal the alliance. The trade pact was sealed by the hand shake." The scribe writes these two scrolls out and then I sign on both. I then leave it to Sir Godrick to sign.

Sir Godrick signed the scrolls, leaning back in his chair.
"Aye your majesty, I feel it would only be honorable for her sake to get to know her a bit before the wedding. I suppose I should prepare a Dowry, and inform my men that Prador will be moving men around in the area. Is there anything I can do for you, your majesty?"
Godrick said this calmly, resting his arms on the sides of the small throne-like chair.
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The Forsworn Knights wrote:Well, I assume Max Barry has money. So maybe he could buy a couple reporters.

He could but they don't keep for very long. A week, ten days if you keep them in the fridge, which is never convenient.
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Albertae
Senator
 
Posts: 4680
Founded: Oct 14, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby Albertae » Sat Apr 23, 2016 6:55 pm

The Forsworn Knights wrote:
Albertae wrote:
King Huidemar shakes Sir Godricks hand sealing the trade pact."I will send for my daughter to come for the marriage. Perhaps you'd even like to get to know her. She's such a sweet and intelligent girl I'm sure you'll love her. Scribe, write a trade pact and an alliance pact up. The marriage will seal the alliance. The trade pact was sealed by the hand shake." The scribe writes these two scrolls out and then I sign on both. I then leave it to Sir Godrick to sign.

Sir Godrick signed the scrolls, leaning back in his chair.
"Aye your majesty, I feel it would only be honorable for her sake to get to know her a bit before the wedding. I suppose I should prepare a Dowry, and inform my men that Prador will be moving men around in the area. Is there anything I can do for you, your majesty?"
Godrick said this calmly, resting his arms on the sides of the small throne-like chair.


King Huidemar says warmly,"Welcome to the family son. I will provide the dowry. I just wish that you will treat her with sensitivity and not a demeaning fashion. The only thing I ask is a refill on supplies and anything you know of the surrounding map, kingdoms, etc. Also, I request that you give me 250 soldiers to replace the ones that have traveled here with me so they may return to their families and another 250 to bolster my already 250. I will send 500 soldiers to replace what I have taken until I return. I only ask that you treat these men with respect and as another soldiers in your army. I also request that they retain their ranks and that in the event you need them you will give commands to the highest ranking commander. Other than that my daughter will come with 500 men to reimburse your lost. If at any point you request a need of my army send a message to my Hall. I will not be able to attend the wedding though I hope you will enjoy the wedding day." King Huidemar lets Godrick register what he has just said.
My Political Compass:
Economic Left/Right: 2.63
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: 3.33
Pro: Trump
Anti: Hillary

It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived. -General George S. Patton
GENERATION 9: Social experiment. When you see this, add one to the generation and copy this into your signature.

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Grothmogia
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 362
Founded: Oct 15, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby Grothmogia » Sat Apr 23, 2016 8:09 pm

Ducal Palace, Svebatn, Grand Duchy of Svebatn

The ancient oaken hall had been expanded many times. What had once been a small chief's hold had swelled to cover most of the hill overlooking the growing city. Newer additions were marked by stone walls and reinforced doors, relics from the Third and Fourth Times of Darkness. The wooden walls were planted on stone foundations, securely grounded to prevent an assault from easily breaching them. Grand Duke Heiresnin gazed out over his city. He stood on one of the wooden towers placed haphazardly along the wall, each constructed at a different time. Distantly, he heard the sounds of commerce and the bustle of life in Svebatn. He leaned onto the wooden railing, reminiscing about times long gone. He remembered when his grandfather ruled the realm, before the bloody revolt which began his reign.

The armor of the last great chieftain who had opposed his grandfather's unification of the Svebatni people hung over the fire in the hall, behind it the axes of the mighty man. Legend has it that it took ten men to finally bring him down. His grandfather would show him scars from that fight, the one which ended the Fourth Time of Darkness.

Heiresnin looked across the city towards the temple of Bolun, which looked very much like his palace, and the temple of Varn, whose imposing stone walls had been on the hill since longer than his family had ruled the city.

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Zoblus
Diplomat
 
Posts: 888
Founded: May 03, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby Zoblus » Sun Apr 24, 2016 11:47 am

Cresadine wrote:
(Image)
CHAPTER I

A Dark Hart is Spotted


"Take that hart;
To your heart;
With this vision;
All shall be content."


Your Cast of Characters

Esqitihin lĭh Laĵy-yyal-y, Centenot, Regent of the Qane (Bank)
Qopen lĭh Qopen-y, Captain of the Guardsmen of the Ŭma
Je'haqhen lĭh Nesthario-y, Guardsmen of the Ŭma
Qopenolyn lĭh Sĭhityn-y, Council Woman
Pelasqin lĭh Hethadrima-y, Merchant
Heqselĭpa lĭh Nyrymyrya-y, Oracle





Qo'yyen

Esqitihin strolled leisurely through the gardens of the Great Palace of Qo'yyen. The background was filled with an ensemble of buzzing bees, chirping swallows and bubbling fountains. His long flowing golden robes, decorated with black threads depicting the various Daemon of the Black Temple indicated his status as the Centenot. On his fourth finger he had the seal ring, emblazoned with the crest of the Qane showed his status as a Regent of the Qane, arguably more powerful than the Centenot. So like the like son of two royal dynasties, he was double trouble, except unlike most royal dynasties, he had quite a lot of money.

The Centenot had cropped black hair, like most Qo'yyenine men (and women) did. His was speckled with streaks of white, a strange genetic anomaly common to the Qo'yyenese. His features were very strong, with heavy, tired eyes, a broad chin which was decorated with a little grey stubble. His nose was crooked, from an accident in the harbour when he was smacked with an oar by a clumsy galley slave, who had promptly been sold off to some foreign power, or had been left as a sacrifice to keep the Creator at bay, Esqithin didn't quite remember.

With the Centenot-Regent strolled two guardsmen, after all, a man like Esqitihin made quite a few enemies, naturally. The more senior Guardsmen was Qopen, the Captain of the Guard. He was another powerful soul. He had been born a peasant in the dark depths of the Black Forest, but due to the fluid and flighty nature of the Qo'yyenine caste system he had been able to move up, quite a bit in the world. He now commanded the keepers of order in the City of Canals (a nickname for Qo'yyen.)

Qopen was much taller than Esqithin - by a couple inches. He was an oddity among the Qo'yyenese who regularly never heights taller than 5'11. Most were much shorter than that. While Qopen was a megalitic 6' much awed by the Qo'yyenese. He was slender, but very well muscled after years of physical training. All the Guardsmen dressed in a light leather and metal armour, with a stylized helmet atop their heads.

With them was also the most eminent Council Woman of the Council of One-Hundred, Qopenolyn. Though related by blood Esqithin despised the woman. She was intelligent, fierce and his biggest rival. She was a Zĭany, like Esqithin, but of opposing branches of the same family - and their rivalry blocked any cooperation in the Council between the two. Her hair was cropped short, but not as short as Qopen, as was common for most women. They let their hair grow a bit longer, so it would curl. Her hair was bound up in tiny braids that all swirled together at the top of her head.

Je'haqhen was the last member of the party strolling in the gardens that day, a junior Guardsmen, he was training on how to protect regal persons - a very important task indeed. He was a gorgeous youth, with a handsome face and sparkling eyes.

Esqithin and Qopenolyn walked ahead strolling lightly. Like any inhabitant of Qo'yyen with any class they talked in a very complex manner. The architecture of their speech like the wall of a cathedral, a work of art. It dripped with simile, metaphor and alliteration. They did not look at one another while the talked, for they disliked each-other so and would rather regard the beauty of the roses which were just in bloom. As is the custom in Qo'yyen, when they talked about themselves (I) they referred to themselves in the second person combined with their name or in more complex third person arrangements, it depends on the company.

"Have you yet figured out why a man (remember Esqithin is talking about himself, I know it can be quite confusing) has extended the white gloved hand and taken time to stroll with a woman in the garden of all desire?" he prodded.

"A woman thought that the reason these humans ("we two") stroll as these humans do is that a man, with the coldest heartstrings and most calculated mind were to kill a woman, as there is precedent for such an act, in the reign of the Centenota Joră," she replied giggling a bit.

"Now a man understands why you hate him so! You believe a man to present a face so pure, yet to be as cruel as the Creator."

"A man may present a face, but a face says stupid things," she said, quoting one of the many Qo'yyenese metaphors.

"Though a man may not like the sound you leave in a man's ears, that does not mean he would draw sword against a Council Woman in this most noble house of our fair city. These two humans are of the same red wine of the body (blood), so a man would not cause the destruction of another of a man's dynasty - for that would do the dynasty dishonour."

"Then why, in the name of all Daemons does a man invite a woman to stroll in these gardens, which burst with colour, smell and pollen?"

The Centenot was about to continue when he was stopped suddenly, in the midst of a breath. The two stared ahead in wonder - their eyes transfixed upon the magnificent stag.

"Does a woman see this Dark Hart? Does a woman gaze upon a Daemon like this man does?"

"A woman does," she responded shyly. The Daemon was magnificent, with beautiful golden antlers and harsh yellow eyes. It's fur was a shimmering black, and it radiated an aura of power and mystery. The Dark Hart was one of the main Daemons of their faith. This was an omen, as the focal Daemons do not just show up for any reason - they always have a meaning. As soon as it arrived, it leaped off and dove into a canal, evaporating just before it touched the water with a golden hoof.

The Black Temple

"Ah yes, Heqselĭpamiyyo (I) does see the omen in this sign a man says a man has seen. A Dark Hart, the beautiful and radiant creature symbolizes change for a man, soon a man will begin to unravel the fabric which covers his fate, and a man shall see soon. There will be change everywhere, all over the world - and Qo'yyen will be at the front of change."

The old crone, by the name of Heqselĭpa consulted with Esqithin on the meaning of the portent. She was an oracle, a diviner, an interpreter of the omens. She was the oldest women in Qo'yyen, having seen her fair share of Centenots and Centenotas. Her face has become gnarled and red with age, much like the oldest limb of the oldest tree. Her hair had lost it's darkness and now was completely stark white. Her fingers where crippled by arthritis and blindness had taken one eye and was taking another.

But her third eye could never be blinded, it would not shut until the day she was laid to rest beneath a sapling and ascended into her next existence.

Qo'yyen

The Council of One-Hundred convened regularly (everyday) in the Council Palace in Qo'yyen. They were there to discuss foreign policy, specifically how to pry out the most trade from the nations around them. The Chamber they sat in was elaborate, with golden facades and murals depicting great scenes in the history of Qo'yyen. Huge columns supported arches with three guardsmen blocking the way, so air could get in but the people could not.

The ceiling was vaulted and went up. It had beautiful stained glass map of Qo'yyen depicting every street as it had been when this palace was built, over four hundred years ago.

All the Councillors were dressed in their finery, this month the fashion was crimson and muted colours. A virtual sea of crimson was awash in the chamber. Each one had a special golden chair, decorated with luscious pillows stuffed with goose down and ornamented with gold. There were quite a few different types of people in the Chamber, quite a few of them were fat - and quite a few of them were mousy wisps of human beings.

They were chatting among themselves, the topic at hand had been very controversial, not the fact that they wanted to expand their influence, but where to expand their influence - every Merchant family had their own area of influence where they held property. They chatter began to rise to shouting as members of the various factions jostled for volume until it came down to two large-lunged Councillors.

The Centenot made his entress, and the screaming died down to a low whisper. He called for the debate to commence, as was his duty. That day in council they agreed, in a surprising turn of events to do an across the boards expansion of trade, and select the optimal niche to mine once it was discovered. It was odd because Esqithin's party voted for his idea (naturally) and the Qopenolyn, his arch-rival had brought her party in agreement with him, many wondered what had happened during that walk in the gardens. It was also agreed to increase colonization efforts on the Shores Across Sea where they already had a permanent and bustling settlement. But they would discuss that

Azund a Few Weeks Later

The Merchant Ship commanded by Pelasqin, a trader under the orders of the Council of Qo'yyen headed for Azund with a small crew and gifts from the Centenot, hoping to find friendliness with the previously apathetic government. His ship docked at the Port in Azund, their mast flying the colours of Qo'yyen flying in the wind.

They made their way through the crowded streets, with an escort. The people here had an odd manner of dress, though the people here must think the Qo'yyenese odd too, with their flowing clothing and their odd manner of speaking. Throughout the city they saw hustle and bustle. Exotic priests preached of Gods unknown to the Merchants, peddlers peddled their wares and dirty peasant children and adults ran through the streets. The absence of slaves struck the Merchants as odd, but theses were odd lands. They were brought to the palace, which was indeed a magnificent affair and awaited for the King to summon them into his presence.

Image



"...and to your king, look upon him not like a mortal man, but as the worldly embodiment of Him of the Eternal Sky..."
- Sardanapal,Temptations Of My Country



Mitta Na'am,
Palace of the Everlasting Sun,
Azund


"My Lord, I mean no disrespect, but I believe that thou has't completely lost it!"

The chamber soon exploded into a cacophony of insults and petty bickering as the assembled nobles responded to the verbal attack against Cleon IV. It was scandalous to say the least, but nothing seemed scandalous or even surprising anymore, for the world seemed to have lost all its reason. They were assembled in the main hall of the Palace of the Everlasting Sun, with its magnificent marble columns, gold leaf murals, vaulted ceilings, and religiously inspired stained glass windows framing the scene rapidly taking place at the heart of its marvelous stone interior. Seated on rows upon rows of elegant seats in multiple semi circles were the representatives of every major noble family in Azund, dressed today in their finest robes of multiple colors and their richest of perfumes, forming an immense, scented rainbow of ignorance mixed with arrogance, topped off by the heat of midday. The sun always beat down upon them during midday, an extremely common fact of life on the coast, but today, it seemed as though the sun sought to kill every single one of them with its vicious rays. Although the palace servants tried to keep everyone cool and satisfied, their efforts were in vain, for no amount of fanning nor chilled drinks could keep them from feeling the vengeance of the midday sun. And now, with tensions already inconceivably high, the sun's energetic assault upon each of them only served to heighten the animosity between everyone.

King Cleon IV sat patiently on his mahogany throne, carved over 800 years ago by the royal carpenters of King Katuwa, an ancestor of the legendary King Rhoesaces, in the shape of a roaring flame. He was dressed in an elegant emerald green robe delicately decorated in gold lace with fantastical flourishes, whisps, and curls. On his head sat the Azundani crown, a magnificent work of craftsmanship, a silver and gold testimony to his destiny as sovereign of his people, as well as a sign of his immense power. Cleon himself exuded strength: the fierceness of his deep set green eyes, the elegant simplicity of his trimmed facial hair, the pronounced nature of his cheekbones, and the imposing rigidness of his nose all showed that he appeared to be a capable leader. However, he didn't fully believe that, neither did the majority of the noblemen and woman assembled before him, who all would enjoy watching him fall painfully, sharply, from his seat of power and promptly replaced. The animosity they held for him, no other Azundani king had faced such a wall of hatred before, and none before them had had the bravery to so plainly announce it in his presence. Convention would have usually stopped anyone from speaking ill of the king, especially in his presence, but times were strange indeed and nothing seemed out of the question anymore.

"You cower behind thine seat, insolent cur, stand where we may be able to see thine heinous face!," hissed another nobleman.

Silence descended upon the assembly as the accused made their way to the front of the assembled noblemen, an orderly passage created from their position to the front as people moved out of the way as they approached. It took Cleon awhile to see who it was, for the room was thick with people, but as the "pernicious cur" came forward, it soon became obvious who it was.

"My illustrious Lord," the man hissed, words stinging with sarcasm," thou can't possibly be serious? What need does Azund have of foreigners and their goods, when everything that could be desired is but a stone's throw away? What reason for their idle words and vague promises, masking insidious intent, doth thou have for seeking their counsel? My good Cleon, answer me these questions, I implore you."

It was Tuwati, the son of an immensely powerful nobleman from the north, whose name Cleon hadn't bothered to remember. He was a young man, probably in his late twenties, and was overwhelming handsome, praised for being one of the handsomest men in all of Azund. He was clean shaven, his hair short and curly, earthy brown in colour, eyes a stunning shade of blue, and his features were soft, yet so subtly rugged. But beauty was not the only thing he possessed, for he was a shrewd plotter and deceiver, extremely careful in his actions and extremely calculated in his speech. He was a major rival and a threat, for him to attack him so directly meant something was dangerously wrong.

"My dearest Tuwati," Cleon began," and others. How long has it been since the Azundani have been the envy of the whole of Adamtanay, who bowed before our strength and righteousness? To long. How long has it been since the greatness of the days of Rhoesaces, who drove the Kosberên out and ushered in the greatness of Azund? To long. How long has it been since ye have seen true richness, true luxury and true relaxation? To long. How long do you think we will have till the world forgets of our greatness, our richness, our piety, our glory? Not very long. If we are to ever hope to ascend to the greatness that we know is rightfully ours, ordained by Naša Re himself, then we cannot hope to do so if we we continue to lay stagnant in the confines of our lands as the rest of Adamtanay moves forward. We need foreign goods, foreign counsel, foreign support, and foreign ties if we are ever to hope to outshine our ancestors, that is the truth. I don't deny it, why do you?"

The chamber fell silent, but it was not the silence of contemplation he had hoped to instill. It was the silence of resentment, anger, and frustration, readily apparent on the faces of every single person looking at him as he spoke and finished his little tirade. Tuwati looked pleased, a sinister smile crawling onto his face as the whispers began to grow into shouts once more. The chamber was soon filled again with the clatter of insults and petty bickering, but it wasn't about each other. It was about him.

Later that day...

"My Lord, the Qo'yyenese merchants have arrived and await thine counsel."

Szathas, a servant of Cleon, entered Cleon's bed chamber announcing the arrival of the foreign merchants from the east. They had been expected, though when they would arrive had been a complete mystery to any of Cleon's advisors. Cleon had been combing his facial hair when Szathas cautiously entered the room, dressed in a simple maroon tunic and carrying his hat in his hands as he peeked into the room. The large mirror Cleon had been facing was richly decorated with aging gold, ancient bronze, and worn out semi precious stones, with his own appearance matching that of the crumbling edges of mirror's frame. He was tired, but this was of the utmost importance to not only him, but possibly to the whole of Azund, and even if he lacked the desire to see to it, he was nevertheless pushed forward into action.

The earlier meeting with the Azundani nobility had seriously drained him of any hope of cooperation with the nobility, who saw his attempts to bring Azund back to the global stage as an attempt to dilute the cultural greatness of their ancestors. They regarded any foreign influence as a threat to their sacred traditions and long held beliefs, a subversive influence that could lead the Azundani to extinction as an independent culture. But Cleon didn't or couldn't understand that, he was blind to their fears and only saw the unwillingness, the stubbornness, of the stagnant noblemen and women.

Donning an elegant white robe with innumerable shinning sequins, he rose from his seat in front of the mirror and walked out of the room, followed closely from behind by loyal Szathas.

"Szathas," Cleon began, hands behind his back," have Chuagrum prepare some spiced drinks for our guests, along with some plates of fruit and vegetables. Also, have Ghabond bring out gifts of perfume, jewels, feathers, and books for our guests. I want them to see us as a generous people."

"Yes m'lord, I'll inform them immediately."

Szathas then broke off and headed down a corridor on the left, making his way to the royal cooks. Cleon continued alone, eventually nearing the entrance to the royal forum, where hours earlier he had been assaulted by the stinging words of Tuwati. He was joined by a small contingent of guardsmen, armed with thrusting spears, great silver shields, bronze helmets, reinforced iron armor, and great plumes of ostrich feathers. Pushing the door to the forum open, the guardsmen rushed forward, forming two lines of armed men on either side of Cleon, who walked briskly forward, arms held forward to greet the Qo'yyenese merchants. Clearing his throat, he said to them:

"Be welcome, my friends, let us speak sweet words of wisdom as we wash our throats with luxurious drinks and sit upon the softest of pillows."
"Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolutions."
- Khalil Gibran

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The Forsworn Knights
Minister
 
Posts: 3138
Founded: Aug 28, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby The Forsworn Knights » Sun Apr 24, 2016 4:50 pm

Albertae wrote:
The Forsworn Knights wrote:Sir Godrick signed the scrolls, leaning back in his chair.
"Aye your majesty, I feel it would only be honorable for her sake to get to know her a bit before the wedding. I suppose I should prepare a Dowry, and inform my men that Prador will be moving men around in the area. Is there anything I can do for you, your majesty?"
Godrick said this calmly, resting his arms on the sides of the small throne-like chair.


King Huidemar says warmly,"Welcome to the family son. I will provide the dowry. I just wish that you will treat her with sensitivity and not a demeaning fashion. The only thing I ask is a refill on supplies and anything you know of the surrounding map, kingdoms, etc. Also, I request that you give me 250 soldiers to replace the ones that have traveled here with me so they may return to their families and another 250 to bolster my already 250. I will send 500 soldiers to replace what I have taken until I return. I only ask that you treat these men with respect and as another soldiers in your army. I also request that they retain their ranks and that in the event you need them you will give commands to the highest ranking commander. Other than that my daughter will come with 500 men to reimburse your lost. If at any point you request a need of my army send a message to my Hall. I will not be able to attend the wedding though I hope you will enjoy the wedding day." King Huidemar lets Godrick register what he has just said.

Sir Godrick stroked his chin, thinking for a moment.
"I can promise you two hundred of my best men, and four hundred from the levies, as my standing army consists of only four hundred soldiers. Would this be acceptable?
Primary Author of The Forum Seven Guide to Location Threads
Reploid Productions wrote:It's rude to play with yourself in public.
Farnhamia wrote:
The Forsworn Knights wrote:Well, I assume Max Barry has money. So maybe he could buy a couple reporters.

He could but they don't keep for very long. A week, ten days if you keep them in the fridge, which is never convenient.
Reploid Productions wrote:Swearing is just fucking fine on this goddamn fucking forum
[violet] wrote:Maybe we could power our new search engine from the sexual tension between you two.

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Albertae
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Posts: 4680
Founded: Oct 14, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby Albertae » Sun Apr 24, 2016 4:52 pm

The Forsworn Knights wrote:
Albertae wrote:
King Huidemar says warmly,"Welcome to the family son. I will provide the dowry. I just wish that you will treat her with sensitivity and not a demeaning fashion. The only thing I ask is a refill on supplies and anything you know of the surrounding map, kingdoms, etc. Also, I request that you give me 250 soldiers to replace the ones that have traveled here with me so they may return to their families and another 250 to bolster my already 250. I will send 500 soldiers to replace what I have taken until I return. I only ask that you treat these men with respect and as another soldiers in your army. I also request that they retain their ranks and that in the event you need them you will give commands to the highest ranking commander. Other than that my daughter will come with 500 men to reimburse your lost. If at any point you request a need of my army send a message to my Hall. I will not be able to attend the wedding though I hope you will enjoy the wedding day." King Huidemar lets Godrick register what he has just said.

Sir Godrick stroked his chin, thinking for a moment.
"I can promise you two hundred of my best men, and four hundred from the levies, as my standing army consists of only four hundred soldiers. Would this be acceptable?


King Huidemar thinks of the scenarios that could happen,"Have any of your soldiers been to war? And how many are trained and well-equipped?"
My Political Compass:
Economic Left/Right: 2.63
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: 3.33
Pro: Trump
Anti: Hillary

It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived. -General George S. Patton
GENERATION 9: Social experiment. When you see this, add one to the generation and copy this into your signature.

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The Forsworn Knights
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Posts: 3138
Founded: Aug 28, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby The Forsworn Knights » Sun Apr 24, 2016 5:04 pm

Albertae wrote:
The Forsworn Knights wrote:Sir Godrick stroked his chin, thinking for a moment.
"I can promise you two hundred of my best men, and four hundred from the levies, as my standing army consists of only four hundred soldiers. Would this be acceptable?


King Huidemar thinks of the scenarios that could happen,"Have any of your soldiers been to war? And how many are trained and well-equipped?"

Godrick stretches, scratching the back of his head.
"The first two hundred have all received extensive training, and will stand with all their equipment until they pass out or die, if ordered to. The other four hundred receive training for one week every month, while some self-proclaimed militias train more frequently then that. All of them will be equipped with mail, spears, and swords at the very least, however quite a few of my Knights can boast ownership of plates."
Primary Author of The Forum Seven Guide to Location Threads
Reploid Productions wrote:It's rude to play with yourself in public.
Farnhamia wrote:
The Forsworn Knights wrote:Well, I assume Max Barry has money. So maybe he could buy a couple reporters.

He could but they don't keep for very long. A week, ten days if you keep them in the fridge, which is never convenient.
Reploid Productions wrote:Swearing is just fucking fine on this goddamn fucking forum
[violet] wrote:Maybe we could power our new search engine from the sexual tension between you two.

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Albertae
Senator
 
Posts: 4680
Founded: Oct 14, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby Albertae » Sun Apr 24, 2016 5:40 pm

The Forsworn Knights wrote:
Albertae wrote:
King Huidemar thinks of the scenarios that could happen,"Have any of your soldiers been to war? And how many are trained and well-equipped?"

Godrick stretches, scratching the back of his head.
"The first two hundred have all received extensive training, and will stand with all their equipment until they pass out or die, if ordered to. The other four hundred receive training for one week every month, while some self-proclaimed militias train more frequently then that. All of them will be equipped with mail, spears, and swords at the very least, however quite a few of my Knights can boast ownership of plates."


King Huidemar ponders this,"I think that will be more then sufficient. Thank you. Just send word for them to pack and ready to leave, my men already know their orders." King Huidemar stands up and goes to his sleeping arrangements to leave the next morning.
My Political Compass:
Economic Left/Right: 2.63
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: 3.33
Pro: Trump
Anti: Hillary

It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived. -General George S. Patton
GENERATION 9: Social experiment. When you see this, add one to the generation and copy this into your signature.

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Cresadine
Diplomat
 
Posts: 558
Founded: Mar 26, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Cresadine » Sun Apr 24, 2016 6:40 pm

Image
CHAPTER II

The House of the Everlasting Sun


"A marchantman may pay his dues with gold;
But the ten Daemons demand more than the coin of men."


Your Cast of Characters

Pelasqin lĭh Hethadrima-y, Merchant
Qopen lĭh Qlyo-y, Great Bank Liason
Unnamed Slaves and Staff




Azund

Pelasqin was a handsome man. His hair was multi-coloured, with strikes or red, white and black which curled into small ringlets rising above his head. He had high cheekbones, thin lips, and a wide forehead. His eyebrows were neatly trimmed and oiled so that they would stay in place. His carefully manicured facial hair came down his face in the form sideburns and met up at his chin. His beard was scented with luxurious oils and had little patches of white standing in stark contrast to the black of his beard.

He wore a blue robe of thin silk, which was great for the heat of this country. His robe was decorated with silver thread in the shape of a ten-ponted star, a sacred symbol of the faith of Qo'yyen (representing the ten Heroes) which had been appropriated as a symbol of the Government of the Free City Qo'yyen. He wore a thin band of gold around his head, formed in the shape of a snake eating its tail. It's eyes were lavish emeralds and it's scales were made of gold, ivory, sapphire and polished bronze. He had two ivory earrings hanging from his right ear.

In the company of the lavish Pelasqin was Qopen, an agent of the Great Bank. The Great Bank was the greatest moneylender in the world, providing millions to nobles fighting their wars. People did not mess around when it came to the Great Bank, they always were repaid with interest - and those who did not could count on the hostility of Qo'yyen and their merchants, for the merchants of Qo'yyen, the Great Bank, the state and people of Qo'yyen were often synonymous.

Qopen was a slender man, with an ugly and harsh face. His forhead was wide and plump, much like his cheeks and his chin. He had deep-set and beady eyes, and little wisps of lips. His nose was slightly upturned, though to his credit he kept his nostrils and his nose hair nice and clean, so as to not offend his clientele.

He was dressed as lavishly as his companion, Pelasqin. He wore crimson, which was currently in fashion in Qo'yyen. His beard was died rouge in order to match his clothing and his hair was naturally a black-red colour. His robe was long and flowing, with elegant, tasteful sleeves and gold trim along the edges. He had had this robe made specifically modified for the journey so that they was a sun, sown with golden thread and encrusted with twinkling black diamonds on the face of the robe.

With them was an small entourage of slaves and staff, who were all dressed in their finery, without the golden collars they usually wore - so as not to offend the sensibilities of the Azundani people, who disparaged the practice of slavery. The slaves carried golden boxes with gifts from the poeople of the Free City of Qo'yyen. The boxes were decorated with depictions of the Black Forest and the various Daemons and religious figures from the Faith of the Temple.

On the lids of the golden boxes was the ten-pointed star.

The merchants were escorted into the lavish palace of the King of Azund. They were impressed with the finery of Azund. The Azundani nobility was obviously wealthy, but the social stratification was different then in Qo'yyen. In Qo'yyen most could afford finery, but here it seemed only the nobles could, from what they had seen in the port and the city.

The Qo'yyenese merchants awaited the King, who finally strode in accompanied with his Guardsmen. He extended his arms to greet them, and Pelasqin did likewise.

"Pelasqinŭn (when in conversation with more than two individuals the Qo'yyenese create the first pronoun by combining their name with a special pronoun - in this case the singular nominative "ŭn") under employment of The Centenot of Qo'yyen, is pleased to greet Qlyones (Qlyon is how the Qo'yyenese would pronounce his name, "es" is the accusative form of "ŭn"), King of Azund."

Then Qopen greeted the King.

"Qopenŭn, agent and liason of the Great Bank, is pleased to greet the illustrious King Qlyones. Qopenŭn has been assigned as a representative of the Great Bank in your country, should the illustrious King Qlyones allow it."

It was then Pelasqin's turn to speak.

"Qopenqesepelasqinnesel (like saying "we two") have brought gifts for the illustrious King of Azund - should His Majesty wish for them."

Qo'yyen

"We will build the greatest wonder in the world! All cities shall envy the glory and refinement of Qo'yyen and her people! The statues shall overlook our city, and for mile on mile every ship and traveler will see the blazing monoliths of our glory and tremble before the Free City of Qo'yyen."

The plan which had been approved just now would see the construction of ten gigantic statues at the mouth of the harbour of Qo'yyen. The statues would depict the Heroes, the ten beings who defeated the Creator and as such are revered by the Qo'yyenese religion. The construction would take a long time, and the government would have to purchase more slaves to complete the project. However there was great enthusiasm for the construction within the government and populace and the Temple was enthralled by the prospect of the construction of these massive icons of their religious might. The statues would be built and carved completely of stone.

The first statue would be of Pelasqin, the Spearmen. His muscled body would be scantily dressed in only a loincloth (with correct anatomy) and he would hold a simple spear with a massive ivory tip and a plain roundel shield only decorated with the ten-pointed star. His face, like all the other statues would be created so as to match the ideal form of human beauty.

The second would depict Pălanqin, the Trident-Thrower. In his hand would be a trident, with stylized points, long hair, and the traditional fisherman's garb (a fishnet wrapped around their torso and chest) with a otter-skin water-cloth (sort of like a speedo.)

Uly-yyaiš, the Magician would be the third statue, her long, flowing hair would descend almost to her ankles, and upon her head would be a band, with an ancient incantation carved into it. In her hand she would hold a wand, and in her other she would hold a book of spells. Her clothes would be billowing and ornate, adorned with a manner of celestial bodies (stars, suns, moons.)

Rretehanyn, the Sword-Fighter would grace the fourth, in her hand she would hold a fearsome blade and in the other she would hold a smaller knife. She would be clad in the leather and metal battle armour, as worn by the Guardsmen in the current city. Her hair would be cropped short, and like all the others she would wear the traditional Qo'yyenese sandal-like footwear.

The hooded Nysyn, the Priestess, would be the fifth statues. Her face would be barely visible and her cloak would droop down to the ground. Her hands would be folded around her chest grasping a book, with the ten-pointed star on it.

Obăl, the Scholar would be dressed in the robes of the scholar - with piles of scrolls and books at his feet.

Beqs-selor, the Huntsman will stand in the simple tunic garb of a hunter, on his back will be arrows in a quiver. Hanging from his built will be knives and furs. In his hand will be a bow, which is being drawn back with an arrow by his other hand.

Qopen, the Oracle will be drapped in folds of luxurious cloth. Held in front of him with his two hands will be a candle and on his face there will be a third eye, on his forehead just above the others.

Aly-yy-yŭ, the Sailor, will hold a the traditional instrument of a sailor, a galley oar. His body will be barely dressed.

Jaĵul, the final statue, will be dressed in the glorious garb of a general. With a whip in his hands and a helmet and crown atop his head.
Last edited by Cresadine on Sun Apr 24, 2016 9:51 pm, edited 5 times in total.
He forbead þa heortas swylce eac þa baras, swa swiðe he lufode þa headeor swilce he wære heora fæder

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The Ik Ka Ek Akai
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 13427
Founded: Mar 08, 2013
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby The Ik Ka Ek Akai » Sun Apr 24, 2016 9:34 pm

The Forsworn Knights wrote:The Forest outside Avendor, Sir Marcus of Marthart, the second son of Archduke Richard Marthart's Point of View
I smirked as my men cleaned their swords. Around us lay three corpses, men sent by my father to try to monitor my movements. It had only taken me a few minutes to catch on to the same group of woodsmen that always seemed to be hauling logs by whatever path I took. Funny how they also seemed to be dragging the exact same logs.
As my twelve men finished cleaning their swords they stood. The men all wore Chainmail with leather tabards and metal skullcaps, and bore Hand-and-a-half swords with heater shields. I stood up from the log I had been sitting on, gesturing for them to stand as well.
"Saddle up men, I hear there is an attractive and single young queen just a week or so of riding to the west. If we can pick up a few friends along the way, that should only take a couple months total, and we will most likely bring back a small army to wipe that stupid look on Godrick's face."


Amaravah
Image

The plains region of Kana'an was, perhaps, the most temperate of the whole kingdom. It saw fairly cool winters, which is why the nomadic tribes of the area chose to layer in multiple robes. The summers, by contrast, were warm and pleasant. The gentle, green terrain was well-suited to the herders which inhabited it. It was, indeed, a simple life. It was said that sometimes, the settled of the Kananim would visit the area to relax after long periods of stress, taking residence within the territory of the nearest friendly tribe, or risking hostilities with an unfriendly one. It was also a place for people to spiritually reconnect with the larger aspects of nature. The Qadish religion preached a sort of animistic faith, and while the rainforest was usually the best place to experience the holy nature, the plains had a grandness and emptiness to it that made the connection with the sky, home of El, much more personal.

A member of the Misa'ira tribe was watching his flock, awaiting something interesting. He stared to the sky, the sun looming over the distant mountains. He felt at peace, contented with his life. The man smiled, and thanked all of the world for the simple things in life, the easy pleasures held as his peaceful flock grazed the field. That is, until he noticed a group in the distance. The grasslands, dotted with rolling hills, gave him the height advantage that he needed to look over the meadow and see shining pale men a great length away. He mounted his stallion and, projecting his voice, cried out "Ayav! Ayav!" to the nearby encampment. The nomads gathered their weapons to fight the enemy they had been warned about, each grabbing a bow, a lance, and a horse of their own.

They rode together, a warband of 15 had gone forth as a scouting party. They viewed the enemy from the distance, slowly approaching. It was not long before they need just crest a single hill more to ambush the foe. They decided to scout intention first. The nomad which had done the initial warning was sent forth to approach them, and he did so. Cresting the hill, he rode in front of the travelling strangers. He was dark, with a mass of black curls, his face painted with black streaks and his bow slung over his back as he approached. He spoke in the native tongue.

"Ane okhaya. Akiyah weratem nerayit. Ami atem?"

After hearing their response, likely going through interpreters and numerous difficult translations, the nomads would guide the group to Qarakah.



Ka'aya Apiram, the Flooded Forest
3 days later

Image
A group of Kanani hunters in their traditional hunting attire, consisting of little except a few skins and some black, blue, and red paint, were rummaging through the Flooded Forest region outside of Qarakah. They listened across the rainforest for potential prey, and heard rustling in nearby bushes. Wading through the water, a couple began to climb trees. Poking through the bushes, they saw a group of nomads guiding pale foreigners to a boat, ready to make their way across the water to Qarakah in the distance. The hunters waited until the group got to their boat, and then ambushed them. Letting out shrill war cries, they leaped from surrounding shrubs and trees, with 5 shining spears thrust towards the nomads and the rest of the party pointing blowguns towards them.

The nomads backed away and shouted words in their native tongue. The hunters replied. After a brief exchange, the hunters lowered their weapons and showed them to the boat. The hunters retreated into the wilds, later getting their own boats. The whole party made their way back to Qarakah.


Qarakah
Image

The group of foreigners would've finally made their way to the capital city. It was made of gleaming stone, and for once no warriors would ambush them. The impressive stone walls were posted with guards looking over the wetlands and forests. The hunters from before stood nearby the gate. It was a long, troubled trip, but it was finally over. The hunters fell to their knees as the queen stepped forward, flanked by armored guards. She was young, for sure. Younger than might be expected of someone of her rank. The nomads gave the foreigners a briefing about meeting her:
The appropriate way to show respect was via bowing
Her title was officially "princess", although she indeed held all the power of a full queen. This was done in favor of tradition rather than legal status.
Be mindful of word choice.
Lastly, appear friendly.

The queen approached the group. She seemed slightly baffled, as foreigners had been long a thing not seen in the kingdom. Especially ones so pale, it was simply a sight to be seen. An odd one, at that. She greeted them, her voice soft and silken, barely audible above the noise of the bustling city behind her. "Hello" is all she said. Even through her apparent composure, there was a certain uneasiness in the way she said it. Her eyes shifted. The simple matter was that the queen was unsure what to do. Such an event had not been seen in generations, and these were a people totally alien.

She awaited their response.

(Translations:

"Enemy! Enemy!"

"I am a warrior. I saw you arriving here. Who are you?")

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The Forsworn Knights
Minister
 
Posts: 3138
Founded: Aug 28, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby The Forsworn Knights » Mon Apr 25, 2016 7:43 am

Albertae wrote:
The Forsworn Knights wrote:Godrick stretches, scratching the back of his head.
"The first two hundred have all received extensive training, and will stand with all their equipment until they pass out or die, if ordered to. The other four hundred receive training for one week every month, while some self-proclaimed militias train more frequently then that. All of them will be equipped with mail, spears, and swords at the very least, however quite a few of my Knights can boast ownership of plates."


King Huidemar ponders this,"I think that will be more then sufficient. Thank you. Just send word for them to pack and ready to leave, my men already know their orders." King Huidemar stands up and goes to his sleeping arrangements to leave the next morning.

Sir Godrick sat in his throne, pondering his current political situation. After a few moments, he turned to the Prophet who was guarding him.
"Call up the men I promised king Huidemar and have them waiting in the courtyard at dawn. I want an additional hundred men called up to enforce the peace in the Archduchy, and fifty more men to make sure my brother doesnt try anything with the King."
The Prophet nodded, bowing to Sir Godrick. "Yes, my lord. I will relay the orders immediately." The Prophet then turned, exiting the room.
The Ik Ka Ek Akai wrote:
The Forsworn Knights wrote:The Forest outside Avendor, Sir Marcus of Marthart, the second son of Archduke Richard Marthart's Point of View
I smirked as my men cleaned their swords. Around us lay three corpses, men sent by my father to try to monitor my movements. It had only taken me a few minutes to catch on to the same group of woodsmen that always seemed to be hauling logs by whatever path I took. Funny how they also seemed to be dragging the exact same logs.
As my twelve men finished cleaning their swords they stood. The men all wore Chainmail with leather tabards and metal skullcaps, and bore Hand-and-a-half swords with heater shields. I stood up from the log I had been sitting on, gesturing for them to stand as well.
"Saddle up men, I hear there is an attractive and single young queen just a week or so of riding to the west. If we can pick up a few friends along the way, that should only take a couple months total, and we will most likely bring back a small army to wipe that stupid look on Godrick's face."


Amaravah
Image

The plains region of Kana'an was, perhaps, the most temperate of the whole kingdom. It saw fairly cool winters, which is why the nomadic tribes of the area chose to layer in multiple robes. The summers, by contrast, were warm and pleasant. The gentle, green terrain was well-suited to the herders which inhabited it. It was, indeed, a simple life. It was said that sometimes, the settled of the Kananim would visit the area to relax after long periods of stress, taking residence within the territory of the nearest friendly tribe, or risking hostilities with an unfriendly one. It was also a place for people to spiritually reconnect with the larger aspects of nature. The Qadish religion preached a sort of animistic faith, and while the rainforest was usually the best place to experience the holy nature, the plains had a grandness and emptiness to it that made the connection with the sky, home of El, much more personal.

A member of the Misa'ira tribe was watching his flock, awaiting something interesting. He stared to the sky, the sun looming over the distant mountains. He felt at peace, contented with his life. The man smiled, and thanked all of the world for the simple things in life, the easy pleasures held as his peaceful flock grazed the field. That is, until he noticed a group in the distance. The grasslands, dotted with rolling hills, gave him the height advantage that he needed to look over the meadow and see shining pale men a great length away. He mounted his stallion and, projecting his voice, cried out "Ayav! Ayav!" to the nearby encampment. The nomads gathered their weapons to fight the enemy they had been warned about, each grabbing a bow, a lance, and a horse of their own.

They rode together, a warband of 15 had gone forth as a scouting party. They viewed the enemy from the distance, slowly approaching. It was not long before they need just crest a single hill more to ambush the foe. They decided to scout intention first. The nomad which had done the initial warning was sent forth to approach them, and he did so. Cresting the hill, he rode in front of the travelling strangers. He was dark, with a mass of black curls, his face painted with black streaks and his bow slung over his back as he approached. He spoke in the native tongue.

"Ane okhaya. Akiyah weratem nerayit. Ami atem?"

After hearing their response, likely going through interpreters and numerous difficult translations, the nomads would guide the group to Qarakah.



Ka'aya Apiram, the Flooded Forest
3 days later

Image
A group of Kanani hunters in their traditional hunting attire, consisting of little except a few skins and some black, blue, and red paint, were rummaging through the Flooded Forest region outside of Qarakah. They listened across the rainforest for potential prey, and heard rustling in nearby bushes. Wading through the water, a couple began to climb trees. Poking through the bushes, they saw a group of nomads guiding pale foreigners to a boat, ready to make their way across the water to Qarakah in the distance. The hunters waited until the group got to their boat, and then ambushed them. Letting out shrill war cries, they leaped from surrounding shrubs and trees, with 5 shining spears thrust towards the nomads and the rest of the party pointing blowguns towards them.

The nomads backed away and shouted words in their native tongue. The hunters replied. After a brief exchange, the hunters lowered their weapons and showed them to the boat. The hunters retreated into the wilds, later getting their own boats. The whole party made their way back to Qarakah.


Qarakah
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The group of foreigners would've finally made their way to the capital city. It was made of gleaming stone, and for once no warriors would ambush them. The impressive stone walls were posted with guards looking over the wetlands and forests. The hunters from before stood nearby the gate. It was a long, troubled trip, but it was finally over. The hunters fell to their knees as the queen stepped forward, flanked by armored guards. She was young, for sure. Younger than might be expected of someone of her rank. The nomads gave the foreigners a briefing about meeting her:
The appropriate way to show respect was via bowing
Her title was officially "princess", although she indeed held all the power of a full queen. This was done in favor of tradition rather than legal status.
Be mindful of word choice.
Lastly, appear friendly.

The queen approached the group. She seemed slightly baffled, as foreigners had been long a thing not seen in the kingdom. Especially ones so pale, it was simply a sight to be seen. An odd one, at that. She greeted them, her voice soft and silken, barely audible above the noise of the bustling city behind her. "Hello" is all she said. Even through her apparent composure, there was a certain uneasiness in the way she said it. Her eyes shifted. The simple matter was that the queen was unsure what to do. Such an event had not been seen in generations, and these were a people totally alien.

She awaited their response.

(Translations:

"Enemy! Enemy!"

"I am a warrior. I saw you arriving here. Who are you?")

Sir Marcus nudged the translator he had brought with him. After a few moments of quiet conversation, they turned back to their host. Marcus and his men lowered themselves into kneeling positions, as Marcus spoke up, before being translated. "Rlyysefrz, E ot Zel Tolpiz, wyel sa swy blyy Olpwkipwu ab Fatxosweo. Tu holsu patyz ef hyopy ofk bal hilydu kehdatosep hilhazyz. Qy wojy fa hdofz sa lejod uail haqyl ef swez olyo. E wok o rebs bal uai, waqyjyl E wek es qwyf uail baddaqylz belzs laky saqolk iz, ef byol swos swyu qyly swy zoty slexodz qwa wojy wifsyk tu tyf kilefr ail mailfyu."
("Greetings, I am Sir Marcus, heir to the free Archduchy of Nombathia. My party comes in peace and for purely diplomatic purposes. We have no plans to rival your power in this area. I had a gift for you, however I hid it when your followers first rode toward us, in fear that they were the same tribals who have hunted my men during our journey.")
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Zoblus
Diplomat
 
Posts: 888
Founded: May 03, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby Zoblus » Mon Apr 25, 2016 7:20 pm

Cresadine wrote:
(Image)
CHAPTER II

The House of the Everlasting Sun


"A marchantman may pay his dues with gold;
But the ten Daemons demand more than the coin of men."


Your Cast of Characters

Pelasqin lĭh Hethadrima-y, Merchant
Qopen lĭh Qlyo-y, Great Bank Liason
Unnamed Slaves and Staff




Azund

Pelasqin was a handsome man. His hair was multi-coloured, with strikes or red, white and black which curled into small ringlets rising above his head. He had high cheekbones, thin lips, and a wide forehead. His eyebrows were neatly trimmed and oiled so that they would stat in place. His carefully manicured facial hair came down his face in the form sideburns and met up at his chin. His beard was scented with luxurious oils and had little patches of white standing in stark contrast to the black of his beard.

He wore a blue robe of thin silk, which was great for the heat of this country. His robe was decorated with silver thread in the shape of a ten-ponted star, a sacred symbol of the faith of Qo'yyen (representing the ten Heroes) which had been appropriated as a symbol of the Government of the Free City Qo'yyen. He wore a thin band of gold around his head, formed in the body of a snake eating its tail. It's eyes were lavish emeralds and it's scales were made of gold, ivory, sapphire and polished bronze. He had two ivory earrings hanging from his right ear.

In the company of the lavish Pelasqin was Qopen, an agent of the Great Bank The Great Bank was the greatest moneylender in the world, providing millions to nobles fighting their wars. People did not mess around when it came to the Great Bank, they always were repaid with interest - and those who did not could count on the hostility of Qo'yyen and their merchants, for the merchants of Qo'yyen, the Great Bank, the state and people of Qo'yyen were often synonymous.

Qopen was a slender man, with an ugly and harsh face. His forhead was wide and plump, much like his cheeks and his chin. He had deep-set and beady eyes, and little wisps of lips. His nose was slightly upturned, though to his credit he kept his nostrils and his nose hair nice and clean, so as to not offend his clientele.

He was dressed as lavishly as his companion, Pelasqin. He wore crimson, which was currently in fashion in Qo'yyen. His beard was died crimson and his hair was naturally a black-red colour. His robe was long and flowing, with bellowing sleeves and gold trim along the edges. He had had this robe made specifically modified for the journey so that they was a sun, sown with golden thread and encrusted with twinkling black diamonds.

With them was an small entourage of slaves and staff, who were all dressed in their finery, without the golden collars they usually wore - so as not to offend the sensibilities of the Azundani people, who disparaged the practice of slavery. The slaves carried golden boxes with gifts from the poeople of the Free City of Qo'yyen. The boxes were decorated with depictions of the Black Forest and the various Daemons and religious figures from the Faith of the Black Temple.

On the lids of the golden boxes was the ten-pointed star.

The merchants were escorted into the lavish palace of the King of Azund, they were impressed with the finery of Azund. The Azundani nobility was obviously wealthy, but the social stratification was different then in Qo'yyen. In Qo'yyen most could afford finery, but here it seemed only the nobles could, from what they had seen in the port and the city.

The Qo'yyenese merchants awaited the King, who finally strode in accompanied with his Guardsmen. He extended his arms to greet them, and Pelasqin did likewise.

"Pelasqinŭn (when in conversation with two or more individuals the Qo'yyenese create the first pronoun by combining their name with a special pronoun - in this case the singular nominative "ŭn") under employment of The Centenot of Qo'yyen, is pleased to greet Qlyones (Qlyon is how the Qo'yyenese would pronounce his name, "es" is the accusative form of "ŭn"), King of Azund."

Then Qopen greeted the King.

"Qopenŭn, agent and liason of the Great Bank, is pleased to greet the illustrious King Qlyones. Qopenŭn has been assigned as a representative of the Great Bank in your country, should the illustrious King Qlyones allow it."

It was then Pelasqin's turn to speak.

"Qopenqesepelasqinnesel (like saying "we two") have brought gifts for the illustrious King of Azund - should His Majesty wish for them."

Qo'yyen

"We will build the greatest wonder in the world! All cities shall envy the glory and refinement of Qo'yyen and her people! The statues shall overlook our city, and for mile on mile every ship and traveler will see the statues and tremble in the glory of the Free City of Qo'yyen."

The plan which had been approved just now would see the construction of ten gigantic statues at the mouth of the harbour of Qo'yyen. The statues would depict the Heroes, the ten beings who defeated the Creator and as such are revered by the Qo'yyenese religion. The construction would take a long time, and the government would have to purchase more slaves to complete the project. However there was great enthusiasm for the construction within the government and populace and the Temple was enthralled by the prospect of the construction of these massive icons of their religious might. The statues would be built and carved completely of stone.

The first statue would be of Pelasqin, the Spearmen. His muscled body would be scantily dressed in only a loincloth (with correct anatomy) and he would hold a simple spear with a massive ivory tip and a plain roundel shield only decorated with the ten-pointed star. His face, like all the other statues would be created so as to match the ideal form of human beauty.

The second would depict Pălanqin, the Trident-Thrower. In his hand would be a trident, with stylized points, long hair, and the traditional fisherman's garb (a fishnet wrapped around their torso and chest) with a otter-skin water-cloth (sort of like a speedo.)

Uly-yyaiš, the Magician would be the third statue, her long, flowing hair would descend almost to her ankles, and upon her head would be a band, with an ancient incantation carved into it. In her hand she would hold a wand, and in her other she would hold a book of spells. Her clothes would be long and flowing, adorned with a manner of celestial bodies (stars, suns, moons.)

Rretehanyn, the Sword-Fighter would grace the fourth, in her hand she would hold a fearsome blade and in the other she would hold a smaller knife. She would be clad in the leather and metal battle armour, as worn by the Guardsmen in the current city. Her hair would be cropped short, and like all the others she would wear the traditional Qo'yyenese sandal-like footwear.

The hooded Nysyn, the Priestess, would be the fifth statues. Her face would be barely visible and her cloak would droop down to the ground. Her hands would be folded around her chest grasping a book, with the ten-pointed star on it.

Obăl, the Scholar would be dressed in the robes of the scholar - with piles of scrolls and books at his feet.

Beqs-selor, the Huntsman will stand in the simple tunic garb of a hunter, on his back will be arrows in a quiver. Hanging from his built will be knives and furs. In his hand will be a bow, which is being drawn back with an arrow by his other hand.

Qopen, the Oracle will be drapped in folds of luxurious cloth. Held in front of him with his two hands will be a candle and on his face there will be a third eye, on his forehead just above the others.

Aly-yy-yŭ, the Sailor, will hold a the traditional instrument of a sailor, a galley oar. His body will be barely dressed.

Jaĵul, the final statue, will be dressed in the glorious garb of a general.

Image



"And yea he wept, his eyes looking upon the desecration of Azund! Mighty Mashboa cast asunder, holy Enos wrought to naught, and rich Ensi scattered to the wind. Only Na'am remained..."

"Great Rhoesaces wept, he wept for all of Azund, taking up her grief and making it his own."
- Kemed, Ancestors Of The Sky



Palace of the Everlasting Sun,
Azund


The boxes, decorated with bizarre images and symbols of the Qo'yyenese, were brought forward in front of Cleon, who stood graciously on the highest step of the stairs leading out of the forum. The sequins of Cleon's robe shined brilliantly in the light of the sun, whose rays flooded in from the multicolored stained glass windows of the forum. The white robe with its flowing sleeves, brilliant sequins, and pleated bottom was supplemented by a tall, cylindrical crown, whose sides sported two golden horns who curled around to the front of the crown, and whose top held a collection of pristine ostrich feathers sprinkled with gold. Great hoop earrings hung from the sides of his head, while his fingers were laden with a multitude of silver rings embedded with semi precious stones and brilliant jewels. On his feet were delicate looking silk slippers, white in colour and laced with silver strings, whose soles were constructed from the fibers of a mighty palm. To say that he was dressed to impress would be a magnificent understatement to say the least, as Cleon held back nothing in order to showcase the wealth of Azund to these foreign representatives of a far off land in the east, going as far as to have outfitted his guardsmen with ostrich plumes and silver backed sandals. Even the lowly servants, now busy taking up the gifts offered by the Qo'yyenese representatives, were richly dressed for the occasion, throwing aside their usually dull garb for vibrant tunics and relatively expensive leather backed sandals. Everything and anything that could possibly show off the greatness, the wealth of Azund, was put on display in an attempt to impress the Qo'yyenese representatives. Raising a ring laden hand into the air, Cleon motioned for his servants to take up the gifts and to bring to the Qo'yyenese the gifts that he had for them. Marching back and forth, the servants swiftly attended to their task.

"Your people's generosity is immense and wondrous, a welcome reprieve from the darkness and terror of this world. Please, accept these modest gifts as a show of our appreciation for your thoughtfulness, may they serve thee well."

The Azundani gifts poured in steadily, each carried by a well dressed servant who bowed curteously after placing them gently before the representatives. There were feathers of ostriches and other exotic birds, bound together by silken strings, elegant boxes of jewels and jewelry, alabaster white in colour with the royal symbols of the harpy and sphinx transfixed on each side, parchment wrapped papyrus books of poetry, romances, and tragedies, with the parchment emblazoned with lavish images of birds and other animals in a myriad of colours, while the covers of each book, made with the fibers of a mighty oak, were enhanced with images of red and gold. However, the one gift that stood out the most was the gift that Cleon himself delivered to the waiting Qo'yyenese.

Walking forward, he held in his ringed hands a single, massive glass bottle of Azundani noble perfume, a rare fragrance reserved for those of noble birth and forbidden to those of the lower classes. Made with an assortment of rare flowers, it was said that the secret to making such a potent perfume was guarded by a few, exceedingly old craftsmen, guarded daily by a contingent of 500 royal guardsmen. The bottle itself was a beauty to behold: thin at the top, it gradually widened at the bottom, where a golden stand was transfixed. The glass was stained blue, red, and purple, with the motifs of several animals painted on it, with the motif of the ostrich leading the procession as the animals curled from the bottom of the bottle to its apex. At the very top of the bottle, acting as its "cork," was the elegant image of a harpy made of lapis lazuli, its wings folded gently on its back and its eyes made of tiny inlays of carnelian stone. This Cleon gave personally to the Qo'yyenese representative named Pelasqin. The colors of the bottle shone brilliantly in the filtered light of the sun, casting a rainbow of colors.

"I hope that your Centenot finds these humble offerings pleasing and that he or she will consider themselves firm friends of the Azundani after our meeting. Now, please come and sit, let us discuss the matters at hand like civilized men. If you desire anything, be not afraid to ask my loyal servants for whatever it is that you crave, for it is their pleasure to serve."
"Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolutions."
- Khalil Gibran

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Cuprum
Senator
 
Posts: 3664
Founded: Jun 21, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Cuprum » Tue Apr 26, 2016 10:25 am

The vast expanse had been set for the occasion. Lodges had been procured along the almost a league of greenery and gardens that sat amongst the Kiso three rivers.

As the grounds began to awake, troupes of actors and dancers began their performances, whilst the Courtesans began their parade, maids in tow, up the promenade before The Samurai' nobility.

Servants, bearing casks of sweet wine, and troughs of ice from the north mingled throughout, the retinues of the many exotic delegations being readily served to. All about, through the crowds, the lavender of the Lady's own household could be spotted, wheeling from one group to the next with practiced grace and charm, letting nothing escape their sight or sound.

A brazen horn announced the arrival of the Emperor. Atop horseback in full armour, his wife and concubines beside him, he rode with his own company; the retainers guard, their discipline as obvious as their armours and sabres. His arrival at the shrine in the centre began the official revels. Drums and flutes and a thousand other sounds rang out across the flowered domain, and the Royal's greatest prize was open to all.

Edward hadn't seen anything quiet like the Royal Castle and her gardens. There was beauty and color throughout the premises as noblemen and women gathered in groups to part take in socializing as festivities begin.

His father and the Emperor sipped from fine colored glasses as they mingled with the others. Edward on the other hand felt a bit hollow and empty even with his apparent wanderlust. He wished that he could experience this with his wife, she would have enjoyed the Pleasure Gardens. The Royals heir had not heard from her in the longest time, every time he would ask her father about the girl he was always met with a nasty reply.

''I just hope that she's alright.''

William, the lad with with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes ventured deeper into the gardens, strolling pass the waves of people and the musicians playing. He wanted to try to forget about his origins for a moment and have a good time.

Prince William, to his credit, had not drank much of the excellent summerwine provided by his brother Anselm. His father had explicitly forbade the activity, and told him that he would regret it if he embarrassed his family honor.

And so Anselm had wandered the pleasure gardens, speaking to none of the nobles that were present. The way he chose to pass the time was instead ogling to beautiful courtesans that wandered the grounds. Only in Mino was such a feast for the senses possible. Toshimasa wished he had remembered more of his childhood, before he was knighted by his benevolent father.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied a boy nearly his age walking towards him. Sighing, as Anselm realized they'd be crossing paths, William raised his half full glass to the boy. "Good day." He spoke, inclining his head ever so slightly.

"Oh, greetings dear brother," Anselm said to his half brother in his native dialect with a slight smile. He hadn't realized that he was nearly walking into him. He had been so busy taking in the sights that he had nearly lost his sense of direction.

"What are you into brother? Chasing skirts won't make you a famous gentleman," the bastard questioned the heir of the Clan with an eyebrow raised. He wondered if his brother had the same intentions as him.

"Yes, I'm without remorse." Anselm said simply, eyeing the boy before him. So soft, there's a dozen ways I could kill him before he'd even know what was happening, He thought darkly, drinking the cool sake from his cup.

"What shall we do now?" William asked diplomatically, looking around the garden purposelessly.

''Create more bastards like you dear brother, my best wishes. Those ladies out there are willing to spend the night with you. Are you crazy enough to avoid such opportunity''

''Please, wake me up after I finish. I don't want to suffer our father's rage''

''Enjoy! They are going to send you to the west before you realize''

User avatar
Cresadine
Diplomat
 
Posts: 558
Founded: Mar 26, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Cresadine » Tue Apr 26, 2016 6:39 pm

Image
CHAPTER III

The King and The Banker and The Merchant


"A king cannot rule;
without his most persuasive tool;
His Great Guns and His Hordes of Gold."


Your Cast of Characters

Pelasqin lĭh Hethadrima-y, Merchant
Qopen lĭh Qlyo-y, Great Bank Liason
Unnamed Slaves and Staff




Azund

The ten golden boxes were opened and out spewed the beautiful treasures the merchants had brought for the King. The first box contained books, beautiful illuminated manuscripts coloured with dies from every corner of the world and done in the finest hand. A large portion of the massive Qo'yyenese literary corpus was kept in this book. The Tale of the Heroes, the Poems of Baly-yyor, the Legends of the Old Qauarter, the Treatise of the State, the Republic, the Know World and the Exercises of the Solar Prince were some of the great leather-bound literary treasures contained within. Most of the books were relatively thick with both a Qo'yyenese and Azundani version. There was even a book which taught the language of Qo'yyen, in Azundani! After that there were figurines, carefully etched and gilded and often times sparkled with tiny elegant rubies, sapphires and emeralds.

Ostrich feather, with their tips dipped in gold and studded with opals. Carpets poured out, with exotic, intricate and sacred Azundani designs woven them into, specifically for this journey. Very precious and semi-precious stones filled another box. A bolt of Temple Silk was presented in exchange for the perfume, Temple Silk was only worn by the Priests of the Temple of Qo'yyen and only through special intervention of the Centenot could a non-cleric receive them. The people of Qo'yyen were doing the King of Azund a great honour.

Temple Silk was the finest and most luxurious silk in the world, prized by the most powerful leaders in the world. The Centenot himself would not wear Temple Silk, because it would be defiling the sanctity and privilege of the Temple. In fact, most non-clerical Qo'yyenese would not wear Temple Silk out of respect and reverence of the Temple. Qopen stood back and organized the Qo'yyenese servants and slaves into loading the Azundani gifts, taking special care with the perfume - they knew how delicate it was.

"A man is very humbled by the glory and gifts of a King of Azund. A Centenot of Qo'yyen will most surely enjoy a glorious King of Azund's gifts."

Qopen then spoke.

"Qopenqesepelasqinnesel (we two, Qopen and Pelasqin) thank you for the King Qlyones gifts."

Then spoke Pelasqin.

"Qopenqesepelasqinnesel have traveled long and far by ship, and we wish to rest our weary legs and talk of important matters with the King Qlyones."
Last edited by Cresadine on Tue Apr 26, 2016 6:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
He forbead þa heortas swylce eac þa baras, swa swiðe he lufode þa headeor swilce he wære heora fæder

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The Ik Ka Ek Akai
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 13427
Founded: Mar 08, 2013
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby The Ik Ka Ek Akai » Tue Apr 26, 2016 6:53 pm

The Forsworn Knights wrote:Sir Marcus nudged the translator he had brought with him. After a few moments of quiet conversation, they turned back to their host. Marcus and his men lowered themselves into kneeling positions, as Marcus spoke up, before being translated. "Rlyysefrz, E ot Zel Tolpiz, wyel sa swy blyy Olpwkipwu ab Fatxosweo. Tu holsu patyz ef hyopy ofk bal hilydu kehdatosep hilhazyz. Qy wojy fa hdofz sa lejod uail haqyl ef swez olyo. E wok o rebs bal uai, waqyjyl E wek es qwyf uail baddaqylz belzs laky saqolk iz, ef byol swos swyu qyly swy zoty slexodz qwa wojy wifsyk tu tyf kilefr ail mailfyu."
("Greetings, I am Sir Marcus, heir to the free Archduchy of Nombathia. My party comes in peace and for purely diplomatic purposes. We have no plans to rival your power in this area. I had a gift for you, however I hid it when your followers first rode toward us, in fear that they were the same tribals who have hunted my men during our journey.")


The queen took a moment to evaluate the situation. She did not know what would and what would not offend these strange men. Heck, she barely knew anything outside of her own kingdom, and even that was through the compliance of the other tribes. The gift for the queen would be collected, and carried by one of her servants. Meanwhile, she whispered to other seemingly important officials, marked by fancier clothing and bright feathers decorating them. The ultimate conclusion was announced by the translator, that a feast was to be held in honor of the foreigners. It was, unspoken as it may be, the only way she knew how to please people universally.

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