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Ulls
Minister
 
Posts: 3020
Founded: Jan 02, 2017
Ex-Nation

Postby Ulls » Wed Nov 01, 2017 7:35 pm

G-Tech Corporation wrote:Central Iowa

The sound of voices muttering in the distance, where a field of tents were erected, filled the air. A few minutes after the Marshal's proclamation, a warrior emerged from the encampment, along with several others, holding his spear close but not apparently rushing to the attack. He approached the Skulk, and then spoke in the slow sonorous speech of the Plains.

"Very well, man of Ego. You have us, though be warned, we will not be bidding pieces for your games. Speak your piece, if you have ought to say." A number of warriors, perhaps three dozen, followed behind him; the man had not the aspect of a chief, but of a war leader.


" It seems your braves were right, you have our agents but we also know that you attack a peace envoy for vengeance. We're not the ones who have attack your brother, this Haehko. We do know who did however and we believe that he maybe moving against you, your tribe, maybe even your brothers."

He motioned to one of the Skulk and they brought the captives that were left by the band. They were shackled but were patched up with bandages and looked healthy.

" Now look, we have your braves and they have been treated for their injuries when you ambushed the envoy. We want them back and you can have your warriors back but we want to come with an arrangement before the Butcher does make a move. We know that after five years ago there's been trouble amongst your people but if the Butcher is taking out strong leaders like yours, then we can't let that happen. My mistress would like for Oshanko to at least come to our Community so perhaps there is a way to help your people or at least protect you from such enemies."

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The Hierophancy
Diplomat
 
Posts: 811
Founded: Oct 24, 2016
Corporate Police State

Postby The Hierophancy » Wed Nov 01, 2017 8:56 pm

Colote

For a few weeks at least, keeping despair and panic at bay proved surprisingly easy - distractions were abound within Colote, though surprisingly enough very little were related to work. At first I simply tended to odd jobs about the village - weeding an unruly field of maize, aiding in the burning clear of a future farm plot, and once or twice even delivering messages or small trinkets to satellite hamlets strewn across the mountainside. I'd even been on a few hunts with the villages chief gatherer, Tlatli, though I remained at best a decent shot and poor sneak. These tasks tended, however, to be largely undemanding both in terms of skill and time invested, and not many in the town had the spare cacao beans or food to trade for my services. The general lack of work left me with hours of free time in between what paying labor I was able to find, though I managed to fill these easily enough, at least to begin with.

My interviewing of the populace was at first wholly to determine if any knew of somewhere I could place a call, or even a road heading north I could follow. Unfortunately, such questions led nowhere - the locals had no idea what a telephone was, barely any grasp on the concept of a city, and seemed to believe smooth stone roads a myth of Atlantaen caliber. They seemed perfectly happy to answer my other questions, however - where we were, who they were, the date, the locale... the gods... at least, answer them to their best capability. I soon learned I was in the highlands of western Mesoamerica from their descriptions of the surroundings - cloud people to the south, rubber people to the east, dog people to the north. The date proved trickier, and whilst most every man, woman and child within Colote could tell me the season and days until the next, none could provide me with the year, and only a handful grasped the concept. Nguiiu Rire - one of the oldest and most traveled of the Colotei - chuckled when I asked him the year.

"It has been many sheafs of winters since last I knew the date, back when I was still a komersiantichaksï, selling Chʼipirijuata's boons to the ever-hungry Olmeca. It was a priest of their half-breed jaguar lord who spake of the date whilst giving a sermon atop his great mound... it is difficult to recall now... the First K'atun? Second B'ak'tun? Eh, it makes no matter. Countless "years" have passed since then, and I certainly could not tell you the date now - mayhaps the Speaker has what info you seek?"

And so I once more approached Tsijiari some three weeks after I arrived at Colote, after the first public sacrifice I would attend in that meager township. Painted black from head to toe and wearing a headdress of heron feathers, the priest looked a good deal more imposing than the first time we had met, and the cold, efficient way in which he removed the tapir's heart and mashed it into the blocky mouth of the town's odd fanged idol. Chimali, standing by me during the sacrifice, was happy to explain that the community's offerings to Kurikaweri were rarely so meager as a measly tapir (though the great beast seemed less than "meager" to me) - usually such sacrifices were performed when the village warriors captured raiders or the inhabitants of nearby, rival townships, and it would be the hearts of human's that sated the sun god's great hunger. However, there had not been a war in at least 5 seasons now, and the recent lapse in rainfall had given Tsijiari the omens and signs necessary to make an emergency offering. "We are just lucky he did not choose to cut you open upon that altar, eh?" The wide grin upon his face felt disconcerting in the context of speaking of my death over the death screams of my replacement. "Maybe he thought your pallid heart would offend great Kurikaweri."

"My heart is the same as yours, Chimali - most all hearts are near identical from person to person." The native man simply shrugged, and before he was able to offer up a counter argument, the local butcher - Sundúrani - had begun cutting up and distributing the still screeching tapir's flesh.

"Enough talk, Uikixu-Úrhi - we must hurry if we wish to receive the choice cuts. It's been too many moons since I last tasted warm, fresh liver." I was happy to comply - I hadn't eaten any meat since my arrival in Mexico, and my diet of tortilla, salt and simple tomato-chili sauce was starting to have drastic effects on my morale. With my portion of leaf-wrapped tenderloin secured, I bid Chimali a farewell and followed the Speaker into the temple's central chamber. I asked him what was becoming a standard battery of questions, most of which he neglected to comment upon, although he seemed to take interest in my asking him the date.

"I see you are a man learned in the faith, Uikixu-Úrhi - few others bother to count the years, and even less truly care of their number. Interesting knowledge for a foreigner found without clothing in a lake."

"Where I come from, knowing the year is considered the norm - as is having knowledge of the day and... ah... moon. To not know what year it is is though of as... odd... at best." Tsijiari nodded slowly, seeming to look upon me with increased interest and intensity,

"How fascinating - yours must be a truly devout people. What else is considered "normal" to know?" I thought for a moment on the extent to tell him of civilized existence.

"Well, near everybody knows how to read, and to write... most know basic mathematics as well, some science, a bit of astrology, even -" The speaker interrupted me once more, a habit which was starting to get on my nerves.

"Interesting, very interesting. Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can tell you the year, what with it being common knowledge among your people - here it is generally kept between men of the gods, though that is more due to the masses caring little and less..." The priest, his skin still caked with the oily black pigment, stepped behind the back wall for a moment, returning a few moments later with a small segment of bark upon which a series of scratches had been carved. He consulted his tally board. "It should be 2 Sïndari at the moment, about a quarter sheaf from when I began counting the years after that abdominal jaguar priest's visit - the Olmecs may be barbarians and in many ways infidelic, but one cannot deny they have their uses..." The dates provided were of no use to me, but I had the sinking suspicion asking for the common era year was futile. "You seem of at least moderate intelligence, and the god's have given me no reason to point to your abnormal flesh being a curse, though it has not as of yet been proven a blessing either... mayhaps you are worth more in my service than picking weeds and washing dirty mantles. I have many prayers to recall, many omens to interpret - alas, my memory has begun to fail me in my age, and even my sight is in decline. An aide would, as such, be useful to me..." Tsijiari shrugged. "... and who knows, perhaps it will someday be you reciting prayers and diving the will of the gods." I remained silent for a few moments, processing the speaker's offer. "I can pay you as well, should faith and the will to aid an ailing old man not be enough motivation." Judging by the priest's grin, I assumed the accusations of impiety were jesting in nature.

"If it means I can afford a diet more diverse than tortilla and salt, I'll gladly work as your assistant." Tsijiari nodded his approval.

"Good, good - I trust you know enough of the god's already, considering how educated your homeland is - you can begin working for me on the morrow - be at the temple by dawn."

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The Orson Empire
Post Czar
 
Posts: 31025
Founded: Mar 20, 2012
Left-wing Utopia

Postby The Orson Empire » Wed Nov 01, 2017 10:49 pm

Alluitmik, Blue Lagoon Province

While General Hal would begin assembling levies from across Blue Lagoon (Turner's province) to invade Iowa and claim the land for Ego, Turner would begin the long trek back. Though, Turner had not told the general the entire truth. Yes, he would end up going back to the capital for administrative tasks, but there was another matter, far more important for Turner's overall plot, that needed to be addressed first. After leaving the frontier, Turner took a detour, heading to the town of Alluitmik.

Located along the banks of the Mississippi, Alluitmik was a fast-growing town, with a population of 2,500. Improving technologies (such as the development of iron tools), greater agricultural yields and increasing industrialization had allowed for the population of cities across Ego to boom, and Alluitmik was one of them. The town had originally began as a military base during the Wisconsin Campaign, but the increasing value of the river trade meant many were enticed to come to Alluitmik in hopes of growing their fortune. The town's close proximity to the capital also meant that many of the upper class in Blue Lagoon owned large estates in and around Alluitmik, further increasing the wealth the city possessed.

Turner arrived on the east side of the city at night; he had traveled off of the main highways and chose to stay in the forests, to avert any prying eyes. He knew he had arrived when he saw the great stone walls that were being constructed around Alluitmik. They were walls he had commissioned and helped pay for, as the goal was to eventually connect them up with the main defensive walls of the capital, turning the two cities into fortresses. Accompanying Turner were 10 soldiers of his Elite Guard, all wearing black masks and black clothing to conceal their identity. Often known as the "Faceless Men" around Blue Lagoon and nearby provinces (as other provincial governors sometimes paid for their services), the Elite Guard were formally the bodyguards of Turner and other high-ranking officials, as well as serving as a police force for the province (though their training also allowed them to serve as shock troops in the army when necessary). Clandestinely, they carried out covert operations for Turner, such as intelligence gathering. They were feared throughout Blue Lagoon for their ruthlessness; if the Faceless Men showed up to your village, it was not going to be a good day.

Upon entering the city through one of the gates, Turner and the guards split off into different directions, without saying a word. This area of the city was deserted, with most people in their homes sleeping, though Turner moved quickly. He did not want to have to interact with any of the common rabble he may run into, as he knew they would most likely be some sort of criminal; even with the garb of an Elite Guard on to conceal his identity, Turner was not invulnerable.

Turner quickly made his way to the target- a local tavern, which was fortunately not far from the gate. Normally, such a location would be filled with drunkards and brigands at this time of night, but it was deserted- and Turner knew exactly why.

Turner quietly entered the tavern, seeing the man he had been looking for sitting in a corner on the far side of the room, adjacent to the bar itself. Turner only knew him as "Bloodraven", leader of the Crows. He was with three other men, whose identities did not concern Turner. They were all drinking beer, waiting for an Elite Guard to show up. Turner understood the danger he was in; the Crows were one of the most vicious gangs that existed in Ego. They had their origins in the underbelly of major cities across Ego, making a living off of racketeering, extortion, theft, and human trafficking. Bloodraven himself was a complete psychopath, often taking pleasure in kidnapping and raping women, as well as torturing and killing his enemies in other gangs.

"Well...the Faceless Fuck arrives!" Bloodraven yelled in a booming, guttural voice while slamming down his beer. As Turner moved in closer, he found Bloodraven's appearance to be utterly repulsive: his hair was unkempt, he had the face of a pig, and he was noticeably fat. He reminded Turner of a bumbling caveman.

"Do you have what we want, or not?" Turner said in a cold voice.

"You dog-fuckers are always in a hurry," Bloodraven replied, with the men around him letting out a hearty laugh. "You need to learn to relax, live a little-"

"I won't repeat myself again," Turner replied, his voice noticeably more angry. He moved in closer to Bloodraven. "Do you have what we want...or not?"

"Watch yourself, guard," Bloodraven replied, while his men looked as if they were preparing for a brawl right then and there. "It's four against one, and even Elites are not invulnerable. Anyway, since you are so antsy...we were not able to kidnap him. Even without the Elites there to guard him, our men became wrapped up in a skirmish with some other assholes he paid off. Fucker was able to escape into the forest, and we couldn't track him down. Unless he can be found, there is little more we can do."

Turner sighed, disappointed at the news. "You don't know who I am, do you?" He replied before removing his mask.

Bloodraven and the other men sat up in astonishment, now knowing who they were dealing with. "The Outworlder?!" he said, shocked.

"Spare the pleasantries," Turner replied. "I will give the Crows one more chance. The plot is still very much alive- there are those in the government of Trunif that passionately want to see their governor dead, and replaced with a...more competent individual."

"You mean a puppet?" Bloodraven replied. "With all due respect, your history as an upstart isn't exactly a secret. You want to have control over another province, and gain more allied soldiers for your efforts. I know how these things work, governor."

Turner did not reply to his remark. "Your men are to work with the Elites this time, rather than on their own, to find and bring the governor to me. They will be paid sufficiently, to ensure the job is done right, as they will do the killing to ward off suspicion from my government."

"You are truly merciful, governor," Bloodraven replied sarcastically, while his men laughed once more.

Turner simply turned around and began to leave. "Do not fail me again."

Once outside the tavern, Turner saw all 10 of the Elites assembled, ready for the verdict on the meeting. Turner said nothing, instead putting up his right hand and giving a thumbs down, indicating that the Crows didn't have what they wanted. Now, they would have to be truly punished. The Elites would light torches and throw them onto the wooden walls of the tavern. The flames would explode outwards, engulfing the tavern and everything in it in a matter of minutes. Bloodraven and his men panicked, moving towards the backdoor in hopes of escaping, but would find it had been barricaded. They attempted to race towards the front door, but were all caught in the flames and quickly burnt to a crisp.

Turner smiled as he heard the screams of the men inside the tavern, reveling in the fact that these monsters were in excruciating agony. But his smile turned into a frown, as he knew the job still needed to be done if he was going to turn the provincial government of Trunif into his puppet, to be manipulated at his will. The governor still had to be assassinated, but Turner would have to find another way. The Crows turned out to be unreliable, and this was Turner's way of tying up loose ends.

Turner put on his mask and left with the Elites, while the fire began to spread and Alluitmik burned in the background.
Last edited by The Orson Empire on Wed Nov 01, 2017 11:02 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Heterosexual male and from the US of A

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Ulls
Minister
 
Posts: 3020
Founded: Jan 02, 2017
Ex-Nation

Postby Ulls » Thu Nov 02, 2017 4:01 am

Settlement of the Coat of the Hearth,
Somewhere in the Canadian Lands


Among the settlements of the Skulk, the one that was built by the Coat of the Hearth. They and a few other large settlements that formed what the Skulk known as Home Territory. The Coat of the Hearth, with its symbol being a fox laying on an anvil, was the place that made the fabrication of iron and was known as the most industrialized settlements of the Skulk. It came to be known as where smiths come to understand the advance weaponry and tools for the rest of Ego.

However this gathering was not people of the artisan, but of spies. The Coat of the Voided Step was one of the Silent Four that kept tabs on the growing underworld of Ego and lead the investigation for the Faceless Men who have been recently popping up. Because of this, they have been known to be more rational with their judgment on things and have more connections to the Knights than others. The archivers were sitting around an underground room with the women looking over the files and some smoking pipes filled with herbs, or recently, tobacco.

" And the tavern was burned down with nearly 30 dead with a neighborhood burned down and stone cracked in some places. Repairs will take months but upon closer inspection, people who knew the area said that it was owned by Bloodraven and the Crows." One of the women spoke.

" That explains why the Crows just disappeared. Their deaths in the tavern led to the power vacuum in the underworld for months, should be interesting to see. However this is connected to the Faceless Men who have been popping around the land owners of the province." Another answered.

The woman in the main seat took a puff of her pipe and gave a nod," so that means they have a large amount of power in what, three province now?"

One gave a nod," Blue Lagoon is near the capital but profit from the Mississippi River trade. The Faceless Men seem to be around and have been made account that they have been called in to the land owners instead of the police. They have been known to being around and are shown to being ruthless in their covert operations. They don't attack the government but they have a plan."

The rest of the archivers just whispered and shifted papers to try and get to the next source of information.

" We do have something that can connect to Turner though." One started to spread the parchment around and some of them were raised their eyes in curious attention.

" This was an attempted kidnapping of the governor of Trunif that was attempted by the Crows, that made him go out into the forest and they couldn't find him. We recently had some of our agents investigate this and with the collation to their death in a province where Turner's power is true. "

" Add the Faceless Men information with the death of that Bison Chaser. Then we have a case to believe that the we know what the Outworlder's plan and we need to act when it comes to it." One of the women said as she stood up.

" Then we have a case, we send it to the capital and send agents to extract the governor. I'll call up some Knights to make sure these Faceless Men or the government don't kill him before we can intervene."

" So were going to war against Turner now?" One of them asked worryingly.

" No but we should expect a skirmish between us so I advise to lessen the amount of Tri-Horns you bring and Summersoul unless you need it. Knights only need to go in heavy if they see a major problem as we need to try and limit the exposure when going into Turner's domain. We don't want to start a war but we can't have the governor die."

" Fine, then I will send the report to the capital and call up the Knights for help in this. Try not to cause an incident and start any wars."

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Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States
P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 18108
Founded: Feb 20, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States » Thu Nov 02, 2017 4:32 am

Year 21, the fourth month of the akhet-season, day 6
Under the majesty of Amenohopis, may he live forever and in eternity

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT


On this day
Payment made by the citizen known as Councillor to the citizen Teos son of Teta concering:
- 1 year lease of a bull to Councillor
- 2 year lease of three bulls to Councillor
What was given to him as price thereof:
8 rings of silver in advance for the 1 year lease of one bull
8 rings of silver in advance for the three bulls, with 14 rings of silver outstanding
14 rings of silver outstanding to be paid before the end of the second year

OATH

“If the days are too hot for working they shall be made day for day, for I have received the price thereof in full. If I do not pay my fair due before the end of the second year, I will pay the amount doubled”

WITNESSES


He said this oath before the council of estate owners of Thebes

SCRIBE

Made by the scribe of accounts, the priest Wennofre



Having finished the document, Wennofre put down his pencil and stood up. This was the sign the contract had been completed, and Bruno and Teos happily shook hands. There were sounds of agreement coming from the other farmers, who sat as witnesses in the room. Now everyone stood up, shaking hands and patting both Teos and Bruno on the back. Amenemope now drew closer, too, heartily shaking Bruno’s hand.

“Well, Councillor, your first contract. You’re now officially part of our community”

The two walked out the sitting room where the document had been made up and signed into the open dining area, where a large table had been prepared for them. The table stood perpendicular to the open windows to the side of the mansion, looking out over the fields which had been given to Bruno by Amenemope. Everyone took a seat, with Bruno sitting at the head of the table and Amenemope sitting to his left. The other farmers sat down as well, looking intently at their host.

“Citizens” he began, raising his goblet .

“While I miss my own country dearly, you could not have given me a better welcome. When I came to Thebes a guest of my good friend Amenemope, I would never have guessed that I would host a banquet like this in my lifetime. To Pharaoh, and to Thebes”

“To Pharaoh and Thebes!” the others replied. As soon as they had said that, servants came into the dining hall bringing plates of delicious foodstuffs. Soon, the table was abuzz with all kinds of different conversations between friends and business partners, a gathering of the small collection of large-scale land-owners in Thebes to which Bruno, under the name of Councillor, now belonged.

What he had said had been partially true. He did indeed miss his home. Over the past weeks, Bruno had come to wonder whether it was all a dream. It certainly did last a long time. He wondered whether he was in a coma for that long, or whether the brain just processed quicker when not burdened by actual movement of the body. For all he knew, two seconds had passed since he passed out. The problem with the dream was its realism. It was far, far too realistic. Dreams have problems rendering text, but not only could Bruno read all the hieroglyphics, they always made some semblance of sense, as much as ancient mortuary texts could at least. The lie in his speech had been in him lauding his new ‘friends’. He didn’t feel at home at all. Only Amenemope and Ruru took the edge off his home sickness. The rest were just rich people. None of them had lived the life he had. None of them had seen the last Star Wars movie, none of them had read Plato. Their lives were filled with figures and gossip, gossip and figures. Even the politics of the city were boring. The Pharaoh was a deeply conservative man who had been reigning peacefully for twenty years. There were little to no bandits, there was no social strife. Farmers were illiterate and lacked union, and paid their taxes with a smile. After all, they only needed to live into the next month, which was quite easy along the fertile river Nile. The people were not scientists, they hardly contemplated their reality. They obeyed the gods, worked hard, and then died. Bruno didn’t feel at home at all. Only his friend showed signs of curiosity, but then only when he’d drunk enough wine.

“Master Councillor” one of the farmers to his right said, sitting around three seats away from him. Bruno recognised him as Shebitku, who owned lands to the south of Thebes. He was mostly a grain farmer.

“Do tell, you have a lot of labourers working the fields. What are they doing at this hour?”

Now the whole table looked out the windows. There, on Bruno’s fields, dozens of labourers were busy. Some were pushing strange devices drawn by oxen, others were using spades to dig canals and wooden beams to support them. Others, using hammers and wooden nails, were constructing strange arch-like devices along the banks of the Nile. Yet others were planting various kinds of shrubbery that had no agricultural yield of their own. All were quite keen on knowing why this stranger had ordered them to do all this work.

“Yes, friends” Bruno said, careful not to make the last word sound too sarcastic.

“Where I come from, the people know a lot about the fine art of agriculture. I am no expert in this field, but I do know some of the tricks used by my compatriots. I might be a student of the law, but the growing of food should interest everyone”

Now, he stood up, walking to the window. The eyes of his guests followed him intently.

“The ox-drawn devices are what we call ‘ploughs’. They do in an afternoon what it would take ten labourers with spades a whole day to do. The plough gives the ground the air it needs to create life, which will pour into the seeds once sown”

“Behind them you can see people with sacks. They were spreading manure over the fields. An unpleasant business, but the excrement of sheep and cows will increase a yield enormously once applied properly”

His hand now pointed out the various diggers and builders, who were digging long pits and reinforcing them with wood and mud.

“Those men are diggers of canals. The land directly on the Nile is fertile, but that land can be extended. The next flood season, the Nile will stream far further inland, allowing me to double or triple my farmable land. Those men building arches are actually building cranes, used to irrigate the ground even on hot days. As for the plants… That is a story for another time”

In reality, the plants were a scientific experiment. Bruno knew that certain plants could increase yield when placed in proximity to other crops. It was a natural way of increasing the health of crops. Some plants attracted insects and animals that would do wonders, and others would improve the chemistry of the soil. However, being just a simple law student, Bruno had no idea which plants actually helped, and which didn’t. The various plants planted throughout the field were his own experiment. He would find out where crops grew best, and he would then act on that knowledge by planting them all-over. Still, he was not one for showing that he didn’t know something, so he kept it vague.

Now, Teos spoke, being the man who leased his bulls to Bruno.

“Say, Councillor, you already own enough oxen to draw those ‘ploughs’, and plenty to carry around the goods you need, even when working so many tasks at once. Why would you need mine? Not that I mind, of course” he said, making a rudimentary monetary sign with his hands. It looked like he was pretending to count coins, which solicited quite a few laughs among the farmers present.

“Your bulls are the strongest bulls in Thebes, Teos. Everyone knows that. And I have received from my friend Amenemope a few very good cows. The result will be laid bare soon enough”

The secret was selective breeding. Bruno wanted the best of everything: to sow his fields, he had bought the grain from the best plants he could purchase. He now leased donkeys and sheep with favourable genetics that would one day give him strong offspring. He would select again from those to breed strong animals who gave more milk, more meat and more labour. Sheep didn’t give much wool yet in 3000 BCE, so he would have to breed them exclusively for that. Still, that was something he wanted to keep secret. No need creating competition in that field. As the night progressed, the guests became increasingly intoxicated, asking a million-and-a-half questions about his homeland. Bruno always spoke in riddles and mysteries, keeping his origins vague and mystical. His drunken guests loved it, like they would love any good story. They would forget about it the next morning, anyway. Bruno, looking over the fire-lit city and his own fields, felt pride blossom in him. This was the beginning of something grander, he felt, as he brought the goblet to his lips.
The name's James. James Usari. Well, my name is not actually James Usari, so don't bother actually looking it up, but it'll do for now.

Lack of a real name means compensation through a real face. My debt is settled


Part-time Kebab tycoon in Glasgow.

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Revlona
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5381
Founded: Jan 23, 2017
Father Knows Best State

Postby Revlona » Thu Nov 02, 2017 4:42 am

Robert
May 21st, 13 AA
Kasr Teravin, Brest


Taking the lord-commanders offered hand, he shook it heartily and then took the offered seat, making himself comfortable he said.
"My ride was good enough, rather bumpy, I really need to get those roads paved over. Anyways, we both know why I am here, what trials must I face to earn a commission? Also, as you are here to protect the region, I must inform you of some rather large raids to the south, the scouts I sent out tell me that they are numbered in the hundreds and are rather well armed, armored with iron and good bronze, much better armored than normal. Once I earn my commission would you join me in expunging these raiders?"
Lover of doggos

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Holy Tedalonia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10889
Founded: Nov 14, 2016
Moralistic Democracy

Part 4 - Chapter 2: The Conqueror

Postby Holy Tedalonia » Thu Nov 02, 2017 10:56 am

Brest, May 28th 85 AG
The heart of the west Imperium, Brest. Along the western provinces Britanny range was far and vast quickly joining the Imperium to stabilize the growing realm. Whether good or bad Brittany has seen steadfast improvement over the years or that's what Ted had been told. While advancements are being made to improve the realm the residents still live in huts or whatever they called them here. The major projects mainly focused on improving their lords power for the most part.

Ted cared not however, he mainly wanted to get away from the Imperium and quickest way was via ferry. It'd take 2 days to get to where Plymouth would reside and Ted would be home free. Well, not exactly he knew across the sea was a land filled with Norscans and while the Imperium and them had a love-hate history Ted still considered them a ally of the Imperium, because while not official historical they've had a relatively friendly coexistence, and if the Norscan were said to obtain and gift a immortal for the Emperors plate, then they would make a friendlier coexistence. Of Course Ted consider he could be wrong, but he thought that throughout the history of the Norcan-Imperial relations tended to be rather non-aggressive or both sides unwilling to really having an all out war.

This is where Ted comes in or at least that what he thinks, because he considers that the Imperium and Norsca while are friendly have differing views and can easily oppose one another. If a national criminal were to pass through the others border there will obviously be tension. Whether a war to break out, it'd be doubtful, but relations would surely sour. Of Course it depends on how far the Imperium what's to go and how obedient the Norscan are to such demands. It might not that much tension as Ted might hope, but it was certainly better than staying in the Imperium.

Ted entered the city of Brest. It wasn't the most prospeous city, but it wa certainly better then most Imperium cities, or based off what Ted had seen. Ted came to one of the available merchants in the street, and browsed his wares, however as he saw the item he desired he saw some guards approach. The merchant wore normal Imperium clothing and dark brown hair. He decided to keep his cool and in fact started talking to the merchant.

“Hey, what's your name, merchant,” said Ted as he avoided the willpower to look in the guards direction.

“My friends call me Vick, you can do the same,” said Vick.

“Ok, Vick I'll purchase a week's supply of cheapest traveling food in Brest,” said Ted confidently.

“Suits me fine, that'd be 3 silver and 6 copper,” said Vick mundanely.

After hearing his words Ted opened his pouch to obtain the coins, however obtaining the coins wasn't his only motive with opening the pouch. He peered left and right for the guards, and found them nowhere. He shrugged it off assuming they were in his blind spot or already left. As he returned to focus back on the bag he noticed he only had 29 silver and 37 copper. The trip had taken toll. Initially starting with 60 he had been purchasing food as he travelled to make sure he didn't starve. If worst came to worst he’d have to sell his sword and armor, but that was not ideal for Ted. Regardless he gave the man his silver and walked away.

As he turned around he saw the guards chatting nearby. They had been in his blind spot the entire time sitting there and having a meal. Were they waiting for him? He couldn't say, but He did not fear the guard, and he used his conversation with the merchant in hopes they didn't want to interrupt them, however now he needs to get away quickly before the guard decides to check his identity. Whether it's their intention to or not a risk is a risk. Ted begins walking down the street hoping not to draw attention upon himself.

Right as Ted heared someone shout, “Come over here,” he quickly turned to see the guards looking in his direction.

Ted walked up to the guards.

The 1st said comfortably in his chair, “Hello, Imperial Captain eh? Bit young don't you think?”

They saw his rank as he was walking about. Ted grew more worried, but kept his cool.

Ted spoke deceitfully, “I didn't think they'd promote me so soon, figured they had no good Captains no more.”

“Don't worry young one we don't bite, but want to congratulate you on your promotion. Takes teeth to be a Captain, and your superiors must've saw some teeth in you, so do fret,” said the 2nd guard.

“Thank you, anyways I'm in a hurry, so I'll be off,” said Ted.

After saying goodbye and disappearing from the guards view Ted lets out a sigh. It was a little bit to close for his comfort.

Ted arrived to the port, and saw the vast array of boats being constructed. Whatever this Brightlord was doing it's certainly ambitious. Ted saw several smaller boats beside the already finished big boats. Ted assumed these were fishermen boats and approached the lonesome man next to the boats.

“Nice wind today isn't it?” Ted asked.

“Good enough for any day. I'm about to fish.”

“Well you won't need to fish with the deal I'm going to offer you,” said Ted.

“Where?” He asked with his eyes filled with curiosity.

“The massive island north, Britian,” said Ted.

“How much?” He added.

“20 silver,” Ted bargained for.

His eyes glistened with greed and his mouth curved a crooked smile, “deal, our journey can begin now.”

They prepared the boat for a 2 day journey to England.
Name: Ted
Ideology: Capitalism
Political Compass: Social Libertarian for some reason
Race: Vampire
Political Side: Right
Favorite Senator: Ted Cruz (Ted's have to help out Ted's)
Status: Healthy and as strong as a starved ox
I M P E R I A LR E P U B L I C

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Labstoska
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Founded: Apr 22, 2016
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Labstoska » Thu Nov 02, 2017 2:08 pm

John Collins
It had been many months since the great battle with the heathen tribesmen. Most of this time had been traversing the vast plains and forests of China or as the people of the Khanate knew it as Canton, John had always preferred the old British name for China and now that he had the opportunity to reforge civilisation itself he believed that a few things required renaming. Two months prior the Khanate had finally reached it's destination, a great flowing river surrounded by a vast forest, John had presumed that this was the Yangtze river, the destination that he had determined that the people of the Divine Khanate would settle in so many months ago. When they had first arrived by the river the Khanates settlement was simply a couple of tents and one hastily set up farm, now one month later every one of the Khanates citizens had a wooden roof of course these houses were not the most complex structures in fact they reminded him of the pictures of Celtic settlements that he had seen in one of his vast collection of history books but the amount of hassle he had gone through with the craftsmen of the Khanate in order to get them to build these squalid structures was extraordinary, he was still often amazed by the amount of things that the people of the Khanate did not know. The small settlement that had now been creatively named Newholm also had a small bridge that linked both sides of the river together and across both banks of the river there were now a significantly larger number of farms which served to eliminate the basic system of the hunter gatherer society. Within the settlement a small wooden chapel had been constructed for the priesthood, where according to the laws of the Khanate every Sunday the people of the Khanate would go pray within the it, two barracks had also been constructed, one for the Zealous and the other for the Free company.

The balance of power between these two factions had shifted significantly since the exodus had been completed. The Free company who still retained their respect from the great battle against the heathen tribesmen had lost much of the influence they had gained from the long marches through Canton as seen as the Divine Khanate was yet to make contact to with any other tribes along the river and the services of the Free company were no longer required so they had been retired to patrolling the outskirts of the land that the Divine Khanate claimed meanwhile in this time of peace the Zealous had grown to be as powerful as they were under Batukhan the traitor who had become something of a mythical figure due to the priesthood demonising him consistently, John had come to compare him to Leon Trotsky and as he made this comparison he wondered if he was as oppressive as Stalin.

John had realised across the period of the past few days that the resources such as bronze and stone that the Khanate required in order to advance as a civilisation were not currently being supplied to the Divine Khanate as seen as the people of the Khanate did not know the resources of this land and so they were unable to exploit in riches, in order to fix this problem John created a new branch of the Free company who were to seek out the riches of this land, they were to be lead by the aspiring Free company captain who was known as Arban, he was chosen for apparently along the exodus he had been able to scout out a land so precisely that any man would be able to swear that it was homeland. This new branch of the Free company not only satisfied the Free company as seen as they now actually had something to do but they were already to bring news of a large deposit of stone just north of the great forest that covered all the territory of the Khanate.

John across the period of these past few months was also working on another project closely with the Priesthood, the only educated men within the Khanate, which was to begin the creation of a school system, with these learned men John had begun the creation of curriculum which mainly comprised of religious education about the glory of christ and the coming of the great prophet who had enlightened the people of the Divine Khanate and had founded their glorious nation, two other subjects that were to be included in the school system was english,maths, farming and craftsmanship , the way of analysing the success of the students would not be through a system of testing but rather it would through a method of BTEC which John had found to produce a far less stressful experience at his old school, this was to applied to all subjects except maths as seen as it would be rather difficult to implement this. Not all children would be admitted to the new education system, they always did require blunt labour after all, however they would allow for adults who wished to receive an education to participate in the education system but they would first need to seek approval from a council of priests to deem wether or not they were worthy enough to receive an education. All this progress within the Khanate lead John to believe that when the school system was implemented then he would be that much closer to forging a true civilisation.

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Arulean States
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Ex-Nation

Postby Arulean States » Thu Nov 02, 2017 2:42 pm

Virginia, Near Present-Day Norfolk, April 2915 B.C., Several Hours Later
On the way to the village, Askuwheteau’s party and I began to pass through some primitive farmland. It didn’t look like any type of farm or crop I was used to, but it vaguely resembled corn. When I asked Askuwheteau what it was, he called it maize, and said it had come to his people several generations ago. I talked with Askuwheteau for most of the trip, but his warriors stayed silent. They seemed wary of me, but when I asked, Askuwheteau explained that they were only showing deference to him as their elder.
As we approached his village, several more bands of warriors joined Askuwheteau’s, so that when by the time we had reached the first cluster of small wooden huts, nearly fifty warriors had become what I’d begun to jokingly think of as my ‘honor guard.’ When I pointed this out to Askuwheteau, he merely laughed and said, “Perhaps. These are other hunting parties and sentries which my village has sent out. They join us having heard of your presence from my runners.”
Each hut we passed revealed a small family of women and children, who stared at me curiously as the large group passed. As we reached the other people, many of the warriors fell back a few paces, so that Askuwheteau and I seemed to be leading the pack. Finally, the group arrived at the village center, where a shallow, but wide fire pit lay. Behind it sat a wooden hut, larger than the rest by three or four times. We came to a halt in front of the fire pit, and a crowd gathered, talking quietly, wondering about me. Eventually, five elders emerged from the hut, and a silence fell over the assembled crowd.
“Greetings, man of the riverside clay. I am Mingan, werowance of the Arrohattoc. Welcome to our village,” Mingan said, “We have been informed of your arrival by the runners Askuwheteau sent. We would ask you to join us in our hut, where we will listen to your story.”
The crowd remained silent, until finally Askuwheteau whispered, “Say something back. Agree to go with them and tell your story. If they decide that you speak truth, they might offer you a place in our village. That would be good, because we are a large and powerful village in our area.”
Whispering back, “Alright, I’ll try my best,” then speaking louder, “Very well Mingan, werowance of the Arrohattoc. I will tell you my story, so that I might become one of you.”
“Come, join us.”
I walked around the fire pit, and the crowd parted to let me through. As I approached the lodge, the elders turned and walked to the lodge. Mingan entered first, but the others waited for me to enter the lodge first.
Once we had all entered and sat, Mingan spoke to me, “My warriors have told me that your name is Zvi. Tell me, what does that mean?”
“In the tongue of the ancestors of my mother, it means ‘deer/messenger of the spirits.’ In the tongue of the ancestors of my father I have a different name. In his tongue my name is Liam, from the name William. This means ‘resolute protector’ or ‘will.’ The name I have in my father’s tongue is the name that I am called by many.”
“And what was the name of your father? Your mother?”
“His name is Gavin, which in the tongue of his ancestors means…” I thought to myself for a minute before continuing, “It means hawk of the battle. My mother’s name in the tongue of my father's ancestors is Diane, named after the great spirit Diana, the huntress.”
“So your father was a great warrior then? Your mother a great huntress? This is a fortuitous lineage, and a grand prediction of your future. I hope that your shamans named you well.”
“As do I, great werowance. I hope that I do not disappoint my forefathers nor the spirits. I know that I have only arrived in these lands hours ago, but I cannot help but believe that perhaps I have come to these lands to fulfill the purpose of my names.”
“Perhaps you are correct,” Then, speaking to the other Elders, “We will confer on your status with our village.” The Elders grouped together on the far side of the hut for nearly half an hour. From what I could hear from whispers, two elders thought that I could be a danger, while the other three, including Mingan, advocated allowing me to stay. Finally they finished their discussion, and returned to their seats, “We have decided that you will be allowed to stay in our village. You are welcome to live with me and my family as long as you remain in this village. But we have digressed. Now it is late, and dusk will come soon. I would invite you to join my family for dinner. We can discuss your place with our village in the morning.”
“Thank you, great werowance. I would be honored to eat dinner with you and your family.”
“Very well. We will convene again in the morning.”
The Elders stood and filed out of the lodge, and I walked with Mingan out of the lodge. He led me through the village to his family's lodge, which he called a yehakin. Once inside, he introduced me to his family.
“This is my son, Mahigan. I believe you already know him,” Mingan said, and gestured towards the young warrior crouching in the corner. As he stood, I recognized him as the warrior who had knocked me to the ground earlier in the day. He looked to be about my age and was well built. He said nothing, only nodding to me. “My daughters are nowhere to be found, it would seem. I will wait to introduce them until they return.”
Mahigan stood and approached the fire pit in the center of the room. When he had made sure that his hands were visible, he signed ‘They went out to get food for supper. They will return soon.’
“Ah, good. I am hungry, and an old fool does not know how to feed himself,” Mingan replied, then said to me, “Forgive my son’s silence. He lost his tongue to Iroquois raiders ten planting seasons past. We have been fortunate that they have not accosted my people for many seasons.”
“That is unfortunate. I know of these people you speak of, these Iroquois. They live in the Ohio valley to the north of here, and around Great Lakes, do they not?”
“Yes, they do,” Mingan said. “How is it that you know of those people, but did not know of us?”
“I was taught by my father about many of the peoples of this region. Once I had learned that your people were called the Powhatan, I knew where I was and who I was speaking to. Though it seems my knowledge in some areas is lacking. I know of the Powhatan people, but not of the individual villages and tribes of the area.”
“I would be happy to share knowledge with you. However, in our society, nothing is given for free. I would ask that in exchange for information about my people, that you give me information about yourself.”
“That seems only fair, werowance. I will do as you ask.”
“Good. As a sign of respect, I would give to you the first question.”
“Thank you, werowance. How many people live in this village?”
Before he could answer, a door in the back of the yehakin opened, and two girls entered. One looked to be several years older than me, beautiful and confident, tall but not my height (it seemed that no one in the village was), and looked to be well apportioned. The other, looked to be about my age, shyer and slimmer, but no less beautiful, and had an air about her that made me believe her a flower atop a mountain.
Seeing them enter, Mingan said, “These are my daughters, my flowers. My eldest daughter is called Makkitotosimew, and the younger is called Waupun.”
“Yes, werowance, they are very beautiful. I am sure that you must be proud.”
The older man nodded, then gestured to a woven mat by the fire pit, “Sit, sit. We will talk while my daughters prepare food.”
I say, folding my legs in imitation of how Mingan and Mahigan had done. They nodded, obviously approving of my decision. Mingan’s daughters moved into the center of the yehakin and began to prepare supper. It looked like they were going to cook some form of stem, using boiled water, a paste made with the maize, cut up venison for meat, and berries and some strange fruits for added flavor. What interested me was how they were going about cooking it. Mingan explained the process to me as they worked. The used bone and stone tools to cut and prepare the food. They poured the concoction into a pot of clay, which they then set near the fire. They had to keep a precise balance, otherwise they risked cracking the stone and losing the contents. Apparently, Mingan’s daughters were quite skilled.
After only a few minutes of cooking, the smell started to waft throughout the room, and my mouth began to water. It was then that I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything the whole day. Mingan and I spoke about many things, but none of them important as we waited for the food to finish cooking. The food cooked mercifully quickly, and it seemed that beginning to end it took Makkitotosimew and Waupun only twenty minutes to cook the meal. They served the stew in wooden bowls, apparently carved from the trees cleared for the previous seasons planting. We ate in silence, Mingan and his family watching in respectful curiosity, and I because I was starving. I must have eaten three times what the others ate, much to their surprise. Finally when we had finished, Mingan’s daughters took the bowls and went to a nearby river with other women from the village to clean them, again leaving only Mingan, Mahigan, and myself.
“Normally,” began Mingan, “I would now ask that we begin our discussion. However, I can see you are tired. I will let you sleep, rather than continue to pester you. We will speak in the morning.”
“Thank you werowance. I am grateful to be given leave to rest. We will speak in the morning.”
When Mingan’s daughters returned, Mingan asked that they fetch a woven pad for me to make use of, as well as a deerskin blanket, to use as a pillow. I accepted the objects gratefully and fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Last edited by Arulean States on Fri Nov 03, 2017 1:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.
5- At peace
4- Potential threat
3- Active preparations for war
2- Mobilization of Armed reserves and Militias
1- All out war

You can call me Aru

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Ulls
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Founded: Jan 02, 2017
Ex-Nation

Postby Ulls » Thu Nov 02, 2017 4:43 pm

Nom Sampai

The galleys made their way back to Europe. The emissaries getting their own taste of Ego and it's similar, yet different culture had given them what they needed to tell their King.

While traveling, they had told Jeb about the Outworlders who lead the nations of the Old World and one of them that gave him fear was the Imperium. The power that they held, the factories that they built, and the strategic hold on iron was choking the life of the Sami and the Norse countries respectively.

Jeb feared that the Imperium would do if they found Ego before Ego was ready and he made a judgement call. He told the Skulk to release the information about Europe and begin the Twilight Incursion. He thought he would have more time but things were rarely making that for him.

He knew that Ego would massively grow from the power and traders would import ideas from such a exchange, but he told them to focus on the Faroe Islands to begin the interactions between Ego and Europe. It would be best for both sides.

As he went to the Steward with his Skulk he noticed the emissaries went ahead of him.

" I trust everything is good on their ends. Though my nation will be coming soon as they have been heard of the luxuries that Europe has to offer. If anything, such an exchange of information and trade will be good to know both sides."

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Kraicia
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Founded: Sep 02, 2017
Ex-Nation

Postby Kraicia » Thu Nov 02, 2017 4:58 pm

Gracie Probst Ellens (1st Person POV)
Eastern Paraguay
Day One

Nothing beats the safety and comfort of a bed after a long day of hustling out and about. Whether you believe it or not, I spent almost my entire afternoon playing baseball and soccer with my homies, and I don't mean them street-hustling white-trash hooligans, I'm talking about people who are really in to sports. Sure I ain't anywhere being in the major league baseball players like the Atlanta Braves, but I certainly enjoy having fun with the rush when it comes to being the pitcher or the batter; however, soccer does have it's fair share of fun as well, especially since I get to kick the shins out of the opposing team.

The morning was a mix of preparation - the usual stretching and jogging-in-place crap - while the evening was a bit of calm partying and cooling down. You know I hate to admit this, but I don't exactly enjoy parties as much as I enjoy sports, especially since I can't afford a drop of booze or liquor in my system after getting all them dirt, grass, and bruises all over me. In fact, I was actually unsurprised that me and my homies would have a calm party after a day out in the field, though I can't say that I had fun in the casual drinking games, which was why I instead went home after a couple hours or so at the party.

It was like...what? Nine o'clock at night when I left? Well, whatever the time was at that time, here I was driving back home in my white two-door 1990s Honda Accord, and the only last thing I remember upon arriving home was shutting off the lights and crashing onto my bed in the confinements of my home...at least...that's what I fell asleep to...

Of course, it appears I'm sounding sarcastic and all jolly with what my day looked like. And why was that when I bothered not to shower after arriving home? Well, let me guess for you...in fact, no, let me tell you why.

The moment I awoken my eyes, I can tell that I had apparently fell off my couch...well, more like I've awoken to find myself lying on something...coarse and plant-like? Then, it suddenly occurred to me that I was being drenched, and when I say drenched, don't you dare get any thoughts to your head about me; how about you look up at the sky for your answer. Rainwater was pouring down on me as if a million showers were directed at me; however, the water was at least gentle and fresh compared to the tap water of my shower, and I got to say that the water was at least refreshing...if it weren't for the fact that I was drenched and freezing to death.

I fully awoken to find myself in the middle of nowhere in a damn rainforest, yes I'm officially drowning in the rain of a jungle. Okay, I'm not literally drowning to my death, more like my right side was lying in a deep puddle of water while the raindrops coursed down my body. Oh and yes, I can tell I was freezing by the fact that I virtually had no clothes on my back (yes I'm nude and mad, you damn stalkers, now fuck off).

So here's the ordeal I have on my plate. I seriously need to find some damn clothing or make myself shelter, or I swear to loving lord I'm going to die - whether it be the hypothermia (if that's even possible in the rain) or whatever critter that I may step or stumble upon, poisonous/toxic or not. King Kong is definitely not going to help me, more like he and them other monkeys out there will tear my limbs off and use them to murder me. I'm sorry folks, but whatever smart-ass says we descended from monkeys has to be a little bit of dumbass if you ask me, 'cause not all monkeys and humans are created equal - not when our bigger cousins see the idea of tearing your limbs off and savagely beating you death as their way of greeting you.

Well enough with my useless bickering and all, time for me to get down in the mud and build a shelter, while having no clothes on my back to shelter me. It's a good thing I watched a couple videos from now in then on building shelters in the jungle; however, all that information do me no good when I'm walking in mud and foliage in the rain. The ground is obviously too wet and soft to drive wooden pilings into the ground, they'll just sink the moment you stick them in the ground, so my only other option is to go up in the trees...god my skin is going to sting doing this...

So I looked around for a bit before I spotted myself a pair of thick tree trunks that jutted high enough beyond the jungle canopy, and by taking advantage of the trees' positioning, I wedged myself between the trees and climbed my way up. With my back facing the other tree while I climbed the other tree, I can be assured that in case I fell backwards, I can rest myself upon the tree behind me before pulling myself up and allowing me the recover; however, this was the only saving grace when it came to climbing the tree, 'cause as I climbed my way to the top slowly and carefully against my vulnerable bare skin, I was only half way up the tree when the rain slowly stopped. I don't know how long it has been since I awoken to the rain, but I can tell it had been long enough for me to awaken and come to my senses; somewhere around ten minutes or so.

I also managed to climb upon a branch thick enough to bear my weight when I was introduced to a cloudy morning when I looked up into the sky afterwards. I sat looking to my left as I sat on the branch, seeing the sun nowhere in sight as I looked around before breaking what is probably the number one rule of conquering heights. Looking down, I had almost literally jolted from where I was perched and nearly falling off, and boy this was one good scare for me as I clung onto the tree trunk for a moment; however, my boxing instinct suddenly kicked in for some reason that I didn't understand.

I was pretty sure that I was safe, given that I had the high ground from the jungle floor and away from the critters and King Kong's little buddies. Plus, I gave myself one good look around again, and I was sure as well that no one was hanging around on or near the same branch as I was on. No gorilla I know can climb a tree before them branches either collapse under their weight or their own movement gave away their position...well, if monkeys like Donkey Kong gave any real indication of human intelligence, gorillas are too stupid to realize that immediately.

Of course, there were always them big cats you know...wait, shit, I shouldn't have said that. I took a double take all around me, including branches of the other tree as well, and for the last time of my reckless nature...I was actually safe. God I don't why I'm so nervous all of a sudden, but there's no one around me that could prove such a dangerous threat to me, and I even looked up to see if anyone was watching me from above, and sure enough nobody was around.

Then I realized that I forgot to look what was on me after being wary and all, and my answer initially made my heart stopped in a bad way. Apparently, a dart was stuck in my stomach, and just as I was about to remove from myself, there was that slow feeling of drowsiness. Maybe I was just hallucinating in my own nightmares and I was still sleeping on my couch - ready to get up soon as I slowly feel asleep from this dart being stuck in my abdomen.

The dart was difficult to detect when I was first struck with it, since not only was it as long as a short pencil, but it looked like a throne. Plus, when you have something that small and sharp get stuck into you, it's only as if a thread needle had pierced you, so the pain is minimal and delayed until you actually take notice of the source. So what now?

I'm asleep once again, this time up in a tree branch where no one can get to me out in this god forsaken jungle...




POV Change - Third Person POV
Many Hours/Days Later

Gracie eventually opened her eyelids opened so gently and softly as if she had awoken anew, but with her eyes dilating at the same time, she found herself laying in someone's place that she should not belong in for good reasons in regards to common sense. She felt the hardness of jungle wood and cloth underneath her that made her look down at what she was laying on. It was here that she found herself under the cover of a thin bark-like blanket as she arose to find that she was still nude without the blanket.

"Okay, this is still not the couch I slept on." The blonde Tennessean girl thought to herself out loud, "I remember wearing workout clothes and sneakers here..."

While in thought, Gracie looked around her while keeping the blanket wrapped around her body to the best of her abilities. She found that she was inside a single room hut, which was made of wood, palm leaves, and if Gracie smelled her surroundings correctly, dried mud. The hut was rectangular shaped with a palm leaf roof, which was supported by scaffolding made of thick tree branches, and the floor turned out to be made of dry dirt covered by bark mats

Unfortunately, as curiosity took control of Gracie's situation, the sound of rustling outside immediately drew closer to the hut before a female figure entered inside the hut towards Gracie's direction. The adult female that Gracie saw was described as a 5ft tall tanned female with a black short length hair (which was kept well yet it was rough and dry in comparison to Gracie's blonde hair), and the woman was wearing nothing more but a a featureless tunic and headband. The woman appeared to have been busy with heavy work outside, since Gracie can tell by the way the woman had entered as if she was coming to get something and resume her work; however, when the woman saw the blonde white Tennessean girl sitting up from what is now her new bed, the woman could only pause for a moment.

Of course, Graice had no idea where she was despite being in the shelter of the hut, Gracie could only respect whoever put her in such confinements and catered to her after falling asleep to whatever poison dart she had stuck in her abdomen. The pause between her and the adult woman eventually broke when the woman turned towards Gracie and spoke softly yet carefully, fear evidently trying to escape her lips, "You're awake. We thought you were never going to wake up."

"Ah well, it took me long enough." Gracie unexpectedly shrugged so lightheartedly, "It's my fault for being a heavy sleeper."

The woman made a light laughter before forgiving Gracie; however, that was instantly broken by what the woman said next, "Well then, I knew it was more than just the sleeping darts."

"Yeah and about that. Who was the one who shot in the first place?"

"Uh, I think it was one of my sons, the oldest I think."

"You sound like you're trying to protect him from the way you're talking."

"Well, when you've been found up the trees, the dart was missing. My sons, who were among the pack, agreed with the other hunters that you been hit in the belly. Unfortunately, no one was certain who spat that dart at you. Otherwise, you've been cold for a couple days after you were brought here. In fact, if you didn't awaken by the sixth day, you were going to be buried, with us thinking that you died from too much poison."

Gracie soon realized that she was nude when she woke up; however, she soon felt something on her body other than the bark-like blanket that was wrapped around her body. She took the curiosity to slowly take off the sheets from heris body and found that she was wearing an identical tunic like the adult woman that was in the hut with her. Not surprisingly, the blonde white Tennessean girl could only sigh quietly in relief when she saw the new clothes that were on her body, and combined with the speech from the woman, Gracie could asked what happened, "Damn. And I was asleep for...what? Three days?"

"Yes. Three days."

"Oh...shit, welp." Gracie muttered as she scratched the back of her head and swinging her legs to the right of the bed, "I presume everyone's out and about with their morning. So..."

"Umm...young one." The adult woman interrupted hesitantly, "Everyone is asleep. The night has fallen upon us."

"Well then what are you doing up so late?"

Again, the adult woman made a light laugh before giving her explanation, "Why, I must clean and close the place up. My sons and husband are away hunting, so it's only me and the others to tend to their rightful places in the village."

"Oh..." Gracie shrugged with embarrassment instantly thwarted by a calm yet blank expression when looking away, "Sorry."

"Why must you apologize, young one? Has your tribe not taught you the ways of tending a home?"

"Uh...not really." Gracie nervously replied, though she was actually telling a half-lie before thinking quickly, "I was chosen to be a warrior, so I was always away from home tending to training."

"Eh? Your people train women like you to fight alongside men?"

"Sure they did. Of course, the men were always above us, they didn't want us women being weak and defenseless while they were away or gone. If we had to take care of our children alone, we were trained and prepared to take the mantle until death does our part. But if you're me, who was chosen as a warrior, my only purpose is to serve, protect, and die alongside my partners. Simply, I'm just a tool, that's all."

"My, my, I'm sorry. Your tribe is barbaric."

"We get that all the time from the other tribes." Gracie shrugged while going along with her own lie, "Sometimes I wonder whether or not I be free and allowed to go home. But as you know, I made my own choice to leave without anyone knowing of it. I managed to keep myself clean for a while, but that don't mean I lost the clothes on my back while going on my own journey. I'm 20-years-old and I was 19 when I left my tribe to be free. Now, here I am in this...forest, lost and unwanted, if not also away from home up north for good. Left for dead rather than hunted, if you know what I mean."

"I'm sorry, young one. I truly am. I think I asked too much, didn't I?"

"It's not your fault, uh..." Gracie nodded, though not before hesitating about the woman's name, "I don't think I got your name."

"Oh, the name is Mika, young one."

"Yeah. And by the way, folks call me Gracie."

"Folks?"

"Oh, that's just another word for saying people. Otherwise, my full name is Gracie Ellens. But you can simply call me, Grace."

"Grace, huh? A fine name for someone with beautiful hair."
RIP Little Brother (2001 - 2019) - (Death by Suicide)

This account was originally made by my little brother, and in his memory, I'm assuming his mantle. For those of you who once knew him, tell me everything you know of him when he last alive. I may not be like him, but I surely don't want his work to die.

My MT NS Account: Kraicia
My FT NS Account: Shinha

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Kingdom of Tunisia
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 360
Founded: Aug 20, 2017
Ex-Nation

Postby Kingdom of Tunisia » Thu Nov 02, 2017 5:39 pm

OCC: I have skipped the Ship building part due to my laziness of writing all over again.)

Hikma bin Naaifa's Dairy

April 15
We have came across an group of Burmese warriors armed only with spears. I try my best to understand them but they kept speaking in their native language. I've spoke a few Burmese words but again that didn't work. They were very friendly to us as have they were not familiar with Johorian Culture. They guide us to where they lived at. We decided to stay there for a day or so. It was a interesting find that our group have been but we are not done with our Exploration yet.

April 19,
On our way back from our Exploration. We have found 7 Copper for our secret invention. Something that is sharper and deadlier. Gunpowder is also a interesting find for us but still haven't invented that kind of thing yet like guns. It was a pretty lucky day for me and my group of warriors.

April 22,
Nothing much besides coming across with a group of Burmese villagers roaming through the fields. However, they do show us basics of farming and hunting for us alike. Again, they still did not speak the same language as us. It was a very interesting discovery for us.

April 28,
Our greatest invention yet! A two-edged Sword for soldiers to use. However, it is not good as it seems as it may or may not become effective towards enemies alike. It is uncertain when will this sword will be tested out. Also, i have teach the villagers the meaning of "Forge." Anvil has been invented because of our discovery of Iron in the nearby mountains. Pickaxes had been made as well. It was a busy day for our us but it will get better every time.

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G-Tech Corporation
P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 56511
Founded: Feb 03, 2010
Democratic Socialists

Postby G-Tech Corporation » Thu Nov 02, 2017 5:50 pm

Part 6, Chapter 5: Old Friends and New Foes


May 8th, 85 AG

The harsh blare of the trumpets beat against my temples, temples already pulsing hot with with blood from time under the noonday sun. My hands gripped tighter to the balustrade of the reviewing stand as I reminded myself that today was important, and of those whose company I kept here on the shores of the Adriatic; Philip was his father's spitting image, white-blonde hair glinting in the light of day as does gold in a furnace, and his back was ramrod straight as he gazed out at the vessel that slowly rumbled down the drydock's rollers. I could do no less, not for the memory of one of my dearest friends.

My hands released the rough wood of the stand, and I clasped them behind my back, ignoring the thin trickles of sweat that were rolling down my back beneath my light uniform greatcoat. The linen was thin and airy, barely more than a surcoat to keep the sun off of skin, but the weave was fine enough to be fit for an Emperor, the deep unblemished coal-black and white cord a striking sight compared to the sable and gray of the men and women around me. In better times I might have smiled at my own inward observation; we were a somber lot standing here above the chaos of the port-town, as fit and set out for a wedding as a celebration. But decoration and pomp and circumstance had never been my love, and my lack of value for such things had become the way of millions in my time here on this distant earth.

With a pop audible from where we stood, the ribbon that marked the formal entrance of the hefty ship into the embrace of its new home snapped, torn asunder by the gleaming stern of the frigate. The rush of water surging in and displaced by the ship roared and foamed, nearly drowning out the cheers of the mass of watching civilians and sailors, but it did not matter. I smiled as the ship settled on the waves, blue-gray uniforms marking out her guardians amidst the white fatigues of the naval ensigns who scampered to and fro about the formidable vessel's structure, ensuring all was as it ought to be.

A turn, and a proffered hand took Philip by surprise, but the Governor-General took it in good stride and his smile was almost as large as mine as he shook my hand firmly. Perhaps there was a hint of melancholy, but I affected not to notice the slight tear working at the corner of his left eye.

"Congratulations, Governor-General Cirdanson. This is a day we will long remember- the culmination of your father's dreams for the White Fleet."

"My thanks, Lord Hegemon. This would not have been possible, save with your support."

A political nicety in better times, but nothing but the truth here. If I had set my mind against Philip's ambitions to see his father's wishes realized, they would have died in the design drawer of some lesser clerk of the naval yards here. In truth, there had been those of the Rose Council who had reservations about the idea, and convincing Mikhael of the virtue of the project had taken some time. A steam cruiser, the like of which our pocket cruisers could only hope to match in terms of cannonade and martial prowess, did not have much of a role in the placid seas of the Mediterranean. Beyond the occasional band of brigands, or the odd Free Confederate who made their way to plundering upon the waves, the Middle Sea and her subsidiaries were an Imperial lake. What need was there for ships of steel and iron when even the most scurrilous of pirate could be sunk like a raft by a good broadside from trained gunners?

But this was an investment for the future. And the future could never be ignored, for the road to failure was built of assumptions and lassitude. One steam cruiser like the newly commissioned Cirdan, hopefully the first of her class, could make nearly a time and a half the speed of a current line frigate, even in unfavorable winds, and her armor was proof against all but the heaviest of coastal batteries. The Cirdan would be a valuable asset to the Imperium, I was convinced, if for no other reason than the concept she was proof of, and the engineering and practical design experience her manufacture had gifted to the minds of her builders. South she would run, guarding the trade ships to the Near East and North Africa, and I wished her much joy of it.




Some hours later, after the ship had steamed out to sea for her trials off the Balkan Coast, I reclined in the suite set aside for myself and Tanya overlooking the bay. Cirdan, my old friend, his fingerprints were everywhere here. The town, the province, they bore his name for no small reason; such men of ambition and drive, able to see the future instead of the present and plan for it, they made the Imperium what it was today as much as I did. It was good, sometimes, to leave the matters that made the world turn in the capable hands of others who could be trusted to see things go right. God knew I had a hard enough time keeping up with my own little slice of humanity at times, and here in this present there was more responsibility on my shoulders than I would have ever wished for in the past.

My reverie was cut short as the sound of a plaintive knock on the door of the suite, and I glanced over towards the bedchamber where Tanya's recumbent form slumbered, snoring gently. Her nose whistled when she slept deeply, which always made me smile fondly when I heard it. Well, a little bit more work wouldn't hurt anyone. I was supposed to be relaxing here, soaking in the Mediterranean sun, not pouring over endless reports, but what my wife didn't knew she couldn't scold me over.

I padded over to the door and glanced through the peephole, recognizing the weathered face of the Blackguard standing there next to what appeared to be a courier bearing a pile of papers so large he was leaning sideways to support all the documents against a hip. I sighed internally, but then unlatched the lock, and opened it. A short conversation, a joke told to the awestruck young man, and then I trundled back to the room I had set aside as my office, appreciating once more how my back did not ache under the weight of the parcels and sealed letters despite my advanced years. Another gift from the Almighty, one I all too easily forgot in the moment.

The seals were innumerable; documents from the Administratum, red-wax cylinders from Imperial High Command, research papers from the Academy. I liked to keep abreast of far too many aspects of the wide world for my own sanity some days. But that was not what piqued my interest in the pile- no, there was a large oilcloth pouch that held the grey insignia of the Outlookers that pulled my eyes to it as iron to a lodestone, and I sifted through the papers until it lay unvarnished and naked on the smooth fir of my borrowed desk. The Grand Inquisitor rarely sent me correspondence, for most of his tasks were fairly mundane, the maintenance of a political system that spanned a continent, but what he did send was always fascinating. I broke the seal with curious hands, and a length of weathered wood slid out easily as I tilted the parcel, along with more sealed envelopes.

Letters first, then the present. That was the way I had conducted myself for decades now, and I felt no reason to change it this afternoon. My eyes devoured the papers at first, and I immediately realized why the Grand Inquisitor had felt a need to send me the parcel; it was his account of the pursuit of Tzant, that sojourner who the Greycloaks had been hunting for several months now. A few pages later I was disappointed to realize that the hunt ended in futility, for the last account of the man was him taking ship to the British Isles, but that was not the matter of most interest. No, the plank of wood was mentioned in the Avitus' missive, and I turned my attentions to it immediately, turning it over to observe the engravings the Grand Inquisitor spoke of.

"Don't Follow Me. Will leave Imperium. Enjoyed my stay. - Tzeentch, the Changer of ways"

It was a hastily cut script, but unmistakably English. My lips pursed for a moment, bemused by the audacity of the other man from my own time, and then I smiled. Yes, Tzeentch. That was a much more intimidating name than Tzant, or whatever his true moniker was. Tzant had always seemed like a pseudonym, a false flag given to the investigators to keep them off of a trail, but Tzeentch was similar. Still, a curious thing. Fled to Norsca, beneath the nose of Monroe. There was danger in such a learned man being in the wild, unmarked, unchecked, but his words made me think that perhaps the threat myself and Mikhael suspected was not so deadly as might be the case. Some men of our world were fearsomely ambitious, dangerous in the utmost to mankind if left to their devices, like the Priest-King of Scythia, old Isaac. Others, though, others were perhaps even friends, or at least not immediate dangers. Connor had proven docile enough, and our correspondence these days was a joy to me in truth, though Norsca perhaps represented the greatest current danger to the Imperium upon the face of the planet.

I would write Connor a letter, I decided, not telling him everything, but telling him that a fugitive had fled the Imperium to his lands, a fugitive I would see returned to Imperial justice if at all feasible. Perhaps this Tzeentch would have ought of value to tell the archivers, one day. I set the plank aside, and turned my attention to the forest of documents that besieged the rest of my desk, warming to an afternoon of clerical work.

Near Site of Modern-Day Norfolk, Virginia, Eastern Seaboard of North America

The crunch of sand underfoot, and Vladimir's salt-encrusted face smiled for the first time in several days. It was here, just as his grandfather had said it would be. Sometimes Vladimir didn't know if the old Nemtsov was just making it up as he went along, but here was the proof, the veracity beyond any doubt. A continent where no man knew land could be, beyond the farthest reaches of what had been expected by the ancients, but had been spoken of by the man out of time that was his scion Viktor.

Vladimir lifted his other boot, placing it down onto the soft firmness of the beach, his eyes drinking in the endless forests that reached away from the coastline, and then he turned, beckoning to the other men to join him. A flotilla of landing craft, ship's boats meant for provisioning and accessing the shoreline where no wharfs made their homes, had followed the aged former Emperor, and their men disembarked with shouts of joy and muttered speculation. Some of the sailors and soldiers knelt in prayer, men and women alike, and Vladimir smiled, doing likewise. To be brought out of the depths of the sea unharmed to this new virgin soil was a great gift from the Father Above, and a realization of the dream the son of Nemtsov had had since he was but a young lad first learning of the shape of the world.

Beyond the breakers the ponderous shapes of the fleet at anchor filled the bay with a forest of masts, and Vladimir swiftly began barking orders, organizing scouting parties to determine where to set up a command tent, and to search for fresh water. They had supplies still for months, but supplies that did not have to be dipped into were always a boon. The tall gray-haired warrior fingered the ammunition belt at his waist, wondering what strange beasts there would be to hunt here. A new land awaited, full of opportunity.
TG if you have questions about RP. If I don't know the answer, I know someone who does.

Quite the unofficial fellow. P2TM Mentor specializing in faction and nation RPs, as well as RPGs.

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Arulean States
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1228
Founded: Mar 24, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Arulean States » Thu Nov 02, 2017 6:30 pm

Virginia, Near Present-Day Norfolk, April 2915 B.C. Day Two
I woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in the yehakin. Looking around, I saw that Mingan’s family had given me a wide berth, setting up their sleeping pads on the other side of the yehakin. Whether out of courtesy or wariness, I chose to appreciate the gesture, rather than dwell on it overlong. A plate of smoked venison and berries had been left for me, but otherwise the yehakin was empty. I stood up, stretching and letting out a satisfied yawn. I walked to the nearer entrance to the yehakin and stepped out, taking in the morning sunlight. The sun was still rising, standing only a hand above the horizon. Though it seemed I had slept past Mingan’s family, it did not appear as if I’d slept till noon.
The village was abuzz with activity, and though I remained as much an oddity as before, no one stopped to gawk. After relieving myself behind a nearby bush, I went back into Mingan’s yehakin and ate the food that had been left for me. The berries tasted slightly more bitter than I was used too, but the venison soft and easy to chew. When I had finished, I decided to head to the Elders’ lodge, in the center of the village.
As I walked, I was surprised to see that most people ignored my presence, not out of disrespect, but as a sign of acceptance. Some of the warriors I passed who had joined with Askuwheteau’s band yesterday even called greetings to me. I did, however, notice that a group of children had begun to follow me. Perhaps twenty or so children had gathered to follow me before I reached the central clearing. When I began to walk toward the Elders’ lodge, the children dispersed, running and giggling as children tend to do. I entered lodge quietly, yet still all five men looked up at me. The two who had argued against allowing me to stay stared at me with open contempt, while the other three’s faces held more open expression. Only now did I notice that they sat in two distinct groups, facing each other.
“Greetings, Liam Zvi Avraham! Did you sleep well?” Asked Mingan as I approached the group.
“Yes, thank you, werowance. I slept very well thanks to your hospitality. Now, I believe that I owe you a conversation.”
“Indeed you do. Come, join us!” One of the Elders in the group sitting nearer Mingan pulled a woven mat towards me, and gestured for me to sit. “We were just discussing what you might offer to the village. It would seem that my friends, Chansomps and Nixkamich, doubt your presence in our village.”
Taken aback, I took a second to think before I responded, “I have many things to offer, Elders of the Arrohattoc village. I know of many things, technology, which it would appear your people have not yet discovered. The land I come from has many things which might enable the people of this village to become very prosperous.”
This made the two Elders on my side take notice, and they seemed to lean forward in anticipation. However, it did not seem to sway to two who opposed me. Chansomps scoffed, “And what is it that you might offer to our people that we do not already have?”
“Many things, great Elder,” I responded, in my politest voice. “To start, I know of a great, but simple device which might ease the burden of your village’s people. It is called the wheel, and with some other, simple devices, it can be used to move heavy objects with great ease.”
“If this is true, it would be a great thing to have indeed,” Mingan said.
“True, but only if he speaks truth,” Chansomps shot back. “Unless he can prove its existence, I will not accept him.”
“That is fair enough, Elder. I have a proposition for you. If I can produce a wheel, and build what is called a wheelbarrow by tomorrow, will you and Nixkamich accept my presence in the village? I would not choose to remain if my presence would offend you. However, if I am permitted to remain, I would continue to build useful things for this village. I would only ask that the things I build be given to the other villages, so that I might benefit all of your people, rather than give any single village an advantage.”
“Very well, Liam Zvi Avraham. I accept your proposal. You have until the sun hits its apex tomorrow to build one of these ‘wheelbarrows’.
“Thank you, Elders,” I said. Turning to face the group as a whole, I said, “If I might be allowed to leave, I would begin work on my device. I will, however, require some assistance in obtaining the resources to build this device.”
“That is only reasonable, Liam Zvi Avraham. I figured something like this might arise from this meeting. To assist you in your task, you may call upon Askuwheteau’s hunting party for help,” replied Mingan.
“Then I would take my leave, and begin my task,” I said, and bowed deeply at the waist, before turning to leave the lodge. Outside, I found Askuwheteau and his hunting party waiting for me, including Mahigan. Though they had been lounging around, when I approached them, they stood and gathered around me.
“Alright,” I began, “I need all of your help to create what is known as a wheelbarrow. The basic idea of the device is to use a wheel and leverage to lift and transport heavy objects.” The men in front of me looked back at me blankly, clearly not understanding what I’d said. Sighing, I said, “Alright, then. Why don’t I just assign things to you, and I’ll just direct the project then?”
The men around me nodded enthusiastically, and seemed tense in anticipation.
“First, I need some of you to go fetch me a log, about an arm’s length wide and my height long.” At that, Askuwheteau said four names, and the assigned warriors ran off to find a felled tree. “Next, I need string, vines, rope, whatever you have. About two arms lengths of it. I’ll also need some branches, about this big,” and motioned to show them with my hands. Askuwheteau said two more names, and the warriors ran off. “Finally, I’m going to need some tools. A few of whatever you use to cut down trees, some large rocks, but not too large to hold, and some very sharp rocks, to use as a chisel. Any questions?” I asked, looking at the remaining warriors. “No? Ok, then, get going.”
At my last word, Askuwheteau gave out assignments, and the warriors scattered in many different directions. Within an hour, the warriors had returned, and I could begin construction. First, I demonstrated to the warriors how to create the wheel. To start, I used the sharper tools to cut an outline on one end of the log. The outline was more or less even, but it didn’t really matter for a prototype. I tasked on of the warriors to finishing the cut, so that I would have something to shape into the wheel. I directed another group to hollow out the rest of the log. They started by burning the top layer, to weaken the integrity of the wood, then using hatchets to chip away and remove the burnt wood. The rest, I directed towards whittling down the sticks I’d asked them to collect, to produce wooden pegs, handles, and other lengths of wood that I would fashion the wheel to. Once the first warrior had finished whittling out the wheel, I demonstrated to the warriors how well it moved over the ground. They seemed impressed, but could not understand its practical applications.
By noon, the warriors working to hollow out the log had nearly finished, so, being satisfied with our progress, I called a break for lunch. I ate with the warriors, and listened to their tales of fighting other tribes and of their wars defending against the northern Iroquois. Though they were clearly not the Iroquois I had learned about in school, they were clearly very similar. When we had finished, we returned to our work, eager to try and finish before nightfall. I used fire and a hatchet to create a small hole in the center of the slice of the tree, then poked a small stick through it. Next, I tied the rope I’d been brought to the stick, and tied the other end to a stick of similar size, which I’d burned the end of. I used this primitive compass (tool used to draw circles, I explained to the warriors) to draw a rough outline for the wheel, which was more or less a circle. I then used the hatchet I’d been given to shave away the edges until they matched with the line of ash as well as I could get it.
Around mid afternoon, the warriors finished the barrow of the wheelbarrow, and I showed them how it would all come together. This seemed to intrigue them, and they were eager to see how it would work. It took several more hours to cut the holes and fit everything together, but by the time the sun had slipped below the horizon, the warriors of Askuwheteau’s band and I had finished the construction of, as far as I knew, the first wheelbarrow on the continent. I showed off how it worked by collecting all of the tools that we had used and piling them up inside, then wheeling them around the clearing in which we had been working. We made arrangements for the next morning, and I brought the wheelbarrow back with me to Mingan’s house with Mahigan’s help. Mingan appraised the device that I had created, looking it up and down.
“Well, it is certainly something, man of riverside clay. How is it used?”
“Well, it acts using something called leverage to lift and move heavy objects. Allow me to demonstrate,” I replied, “Mahigan, if you would be so kind, could you please come over here?” Mahigan complied and stood next to me. “Now, I will try to move Mahigan from here,” I gestured to where he was standing, “To there,” and gestured to a placed twenty feet away. “I will start by trying to lift him on my own,” I said, and attempted to pick him up and carry him. Even though he was smaller than me, and I am a reasonably fit man, it proved difficult to move him even five feet. “As you can see, it is very difficult. However, it is much easier with the wheelbarrow. Mahigan, if you would please sit in the wheelbarrow?”
Though he looked sceptical, he did as I asked, willing to help demonstrate the device’s usefulness. Once he had sat in the barrow, I lifted the wheelbarrow by the handles and easily pushed the wheelbarrow to the spot I’d indicated and then back.
Mingan laughed, impressed, “Well, man of riverside clay. It would seem that you have uses after all!”
Smiling, I responded, “I am glad, werowance. I hope it will impress Chansomps and Nixkamich as it has you.”
“I think it very much will,” replied Mingan, “Come, my daughters have already prepared dinner. We decided to wait until you had returned from your days work before we ate.”
I nodded in reply, and Mingan led the way into the yehakin, Mahigan and I following behind him. Inside, the smell of another stew filled the air, and this time, Mahigan joined me in my enjoyment of the food.
After dinner, the five of us (I insisted in including Mingan’s daughters) made small talk for hours, before Mingan’s children excused themselves to go to sleep. I stayed up talking with Mingan until the embers dimmed, telling him about my homeland and the wonders it held. Many he marveled at, and many more he could not believe, while yet more I had not the words to describe. I explained that a wheel was one of several ‘basic machines’ and that they were just the basic foundation upon which great knowledge was built. Together, we resolved to build as much as we could, to benefit not just his village, but the Powhatan as a people. I proposed the idea of uniting the tribes, but he thought the idea impossible, dismissing it along with the ideas of the internet and telephones. I went to bed that night happy, but with an idea planted in my mind, one of a united nation of the Powhatan people.
Last edited by Arulean States on Fri Nov 03, 2017 1:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.
5- At peace
4- Potential threat
3- Active preparations for war
2- Mobilization of Armed reserves and Militias
1- All out war

You can call me Aru

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Leikmis
Secretary
 
Posts: 31
Founded: Oct 20, 2015
Ex-Nation

2

Postby Leikmis » Thu Nov 02, 2017 8:36 pm

Nobody wants him
He just stares at the world
Planning his vengeance
That he will soon unfold



Ayotec River, Mexico


May



Michoacán Countryside


They dragged him slowly through first the shores and rocks, then the dry plains, and then finally into a forest a river in the distance. All during this trip he was unable to speak, his mouth had been tied shut with a piece of cloth. Although, even if he did wish to speak, he would be unable to due to his lack of voice. He thought to himself alone therefore. He tried to think of the rituals natives had done to those they considered demons; burning, impalement, the dissection of organs while the specimen was still alive. He had seen these all in movies and books, but was unsure if they were true to the real world. All of these thoughts further clouded his mind, and his mind placed itself into a foreseeable state of panic as he and the natives carrying him ventured further. He took the time to use all of his remaining energy to squirm every few kilometers or so.

During this voyage he observes many different landscapes that would otherwise not be seen in the modern era. First he sees the natural rock formations of the beaches of Mexico, which would be gone to make way for public beaches. Next, he sees the fields of Western Mexico, filled with proto-Maize of a partially tamed variety, a variety he has only seen pictures of in a textbook and otherwise does not know about. Finally, he sees the large highland forests of Mexico. They teem with life, some of which is extinct, and some of which even native Mexicans would not see such as large Tapirs and Ocelots in the distance.

In the distance he can see basic huts of wood, dirt, and sod, as well as several small mounds. The mounds were most likely religious in nature. Within and without the huts were people, small people. The people looked to be between the ages of twelve and eighteen, certainly not adults. The problem with this idea of his was that, they made up a majority of the village, with only some of the men and women looking to be over the age of thirty. Around the village huts, and the river they were situated next to, were acres upon acres of basic farm land. They almost exclusively farmed basic Maize, although, they might have farmed more, his vision was blurry and he winced in pain whenever he held his eyes open for a normal amount of time.

Native Village


He was hauled into the village by the five men. Around him the natives of the village came forth from their villages and eventually the fields. They looked with both fear and curiosity, a disgusted wonder to learn more about this foul and unknown creature that had been brought into their humble and fairly normal abode. Some mothers, many of the age below seventeen, hid their children while cursing the gods, while the men grabbed their spears from their homes in defense. He looked in sorrow, that in his possible death, that only these sad and miserable people would look upon him, unfulfilled in their wishes to know what he was or who he was.

He was further hauled to the largest hut in the village, a large hut similar in size to an American middle class ranch found in the countryside he was fond of. All of the mounds of the village were near this hut.

He was laid down, four of the men and their spears staying to watch over to make sure he conducted no witchcraft of any kind. Gozio left the group to walk into the large hut. Meanwhile, a crowd of the villagers formed around them to take a look at the demon that had been brought into the village.

The Chieftain’s Hut


Inside of the large hut sat the Chieftain, praying to the gods and keeping his ‘records’ on a chain of beads that had been placed on a line of thin flax. Next to him, leaned against the wall, sat a staff decorated with religious symbols and feathers. Besides this, the record chain, and many other trinkets, the room was decorated with many rugs of various religious symbols and the gods. The Chieftain was the main religious leader of the village.


Gozio carefully walked within the hut, greeting the Chieftain in a pious fashion.

“Father, we have found a demon outside of the river of the gods, we require your judgement and that of the gods as what we will do with it.” Gozio sat down, legs crossed, in front of the Chieftain.

“Gozio, I am busy with the maize, we do not know how much to plant this year.” He continued looking at his bead contraption, paying little attention to Gozio.

Gozio seemed a bit annoyed by the chieftain and his ignorance. The chieftain was supposed to place the gods over worldly manners. “Father, this really is a demon, not just a Tapir we had found without a leg like last time, please look to see it outside!” He had raised his voice a bit. The Chieftain now placed a bit more attention to Gozio.

The Chieftain looked up from his beads. “If it is really a demon then I will attend to it soon, I place my word on that. But, if it is not a demon then I will have you working on the maize with me for the next harvest as well as your harvest duties.”

The crowd of villagers outside of the hut looking at the ‘demon’ began to grow louder.

“Thank you father, I will leave and wait outside. Gozio left.


Native Village


Outside of the Chieftain’s hut the crowd was watching at one of the four men of Gozio’s party was pointing out the many differences between the ‘demon’ they had caught and your average ‘normal’ native. He pointed out the apparent hairiness of the demon they had caught, his disgustingly pale skin, small feet, and awkwardly shaped face. The reaction of the crowd around them was like that of a roman peasant observing a war elephant during the invasion of Italia by Hannibal in 221 BC, including the shouts of amazements and gasps of fear and curiosity whenever the demon moved. Conveniently, Zachaios’ eyes had been wrapped un-visible. The reason being was that his eyes were dark green, a similar color to Jade considered very sacred and holy in Mesoamerican religious culture.

Several minutes after his meeting with Gozio the Chief walks out of his large hut to address the ‘demon’ and the crowd that has gathered before it.


The Chieftain walked out his hut. “Now what with this demon you have supposedly brought us Gozio?” He says tiredly, obviously tired of Gozio’s shenanigans trying to catch demons to sacrifice.
“This, Father!” One of the crowds men shout, giving an excited and frightened face, pointing frantically at Zachaios.

The Chief looked down to Zachaios, a look of apprehension filling his formerly stoic face. “By the gods Gozio! What have you found?!”

“A demon! I swear! Can you not see it for your own eyes Father? The gods will surely shine upon us for we have found and captured a demon!” Gozio danced around triumphantly.

The Chief kneels down to Zachaios, holding his face and touching his skin, testing to see what the reaction of the ‘demon’ will be while also observing his appearance. Zachaios’ does not squirm much anymore. His past squirming combined with the sustained pain from when he first arrived stop any chances of him becoming aggressive or very mobile. Even if he wanted to become mobile, he would not, after all negotiating with this man might be his only way out of death.

The chieftain looks back and up to Gozio, still holding Zachaios’ face in his hands. “Why is its face covered, Gozio?”

Gozio’s composure changed from that of triumph to that of slowness and lies. “Oh, it, it has a face so horrid and cursed that it kills the men who look at any part of it, Father, do not unwrap it unless you wish to suffer that fate upon us all.”

“Then how did you survive to figure that out, capture it, and bring it here Gozio?” The Chieftain was about to unravel what Gozio was hiding.

“…” Gozio was silent, stuttering, and unable to produce a suitable lie that would make total sense.

“I will see the face of the Demon, Gozio, if we do not we cannot discover its plans before it is killed, for it cannot talk while it is covered up.” The Chief looked back to Zachaios. “If you wish to look away, then do so now.”

The chief muttered a prayer to the gods, and then the cloth that was wrapped around the lower portion of Zachaios face, revealing his mouth and lower nose.

Everything was silent.

The chief began to explore the features of Zachaios’ lower face. There was a mole on the side of his cheek. He used a small stick from the ground to open Zachaios mouth, revealing teeth as white as a newborn child's, with no fangs or horrendous features to be seen.

“You have lied to me again Gozio, for its face is not horrible, and I am not harmed.”

The Chief continued to slowly unwrap the cloth slowly, stopping whenever he felt like he was light headed, taking the time to think if he was dying or just afraid. Eventually, one eye was uncovered, revealing the dark green left eye of Zachaios. The eye moved around frantically, it was the first light to been seen from that eye since it had entered the village, and the first thing it would see would be the faces of dozens of disgusted and afraid natives wielding stone weapons and tools.

The Chieftain gasped, very bemused at what he had found and had seen. “It has the eye of a god, do you see?” He looked over to Gozio and the crowd, who were very confused and waiting for the chieftain’s explanation.

“Jade is the material of the gods, it has eyes of Jade... It is no demon!” The Chief shouts into the crowd of people.

The crowd erupts into talking, taking several minutes to quiet down.

“But if it is not a demon with horrible fangs and eyes of blood, what entity is it to possess the material of gods?” He looked back to Zachaios, who was now intently staring at the Chief. “Do you speak, what are you?” The Chief looks towards Zachaios, excited for the first time in a long while, curious in the fact that he was the chief and religious leader of the village to see a being ‘more than man.’

Zachaios opened his mouth to speak. He had understood everything the natives were saying despite it not being English, but could he speak to them?

“I…” He muttered out, “…am a man.” He finished his sentence, his chest pounding with a sharp pain as he spoke.

“A ‘man,’ I see.” The chief looked over to one of his religious followers within the crowd. “Bring it to the vacant hut one-hundred paces past my home.” The Chief pointed in the direction behind his hut’s entrance. “Give it food and lay it to rest there.”

The follower shouted out confused and also afraid, he tried to hide himself before he was pushed forwards by the crowd of people. “But, But father! How do you know it is not a demon?! For all we know it could be disguised...” His criticisms were very possible.

“Do as I say Masawa, it is not a demon.” He gestured for him to pick Zachaios up.

Masawa picks up Zachaios with the help of several other men chosen by the Chief to guard the hut. They then begin to make their travel there, although with many attempts to change position with other members of the group.

Once they are left and out of hearings distance the Chief once again addresses the crowd. “For ten nights and ten days we will observe the being and prod it to see what it does. If it does not appear as a demon within ten days it will be released from the hut. While I am away, Canneo, my son, will assume my position preparing for the planting of the Maize.” Canneo comes forwards a bit from the crowd.


At nightfall, with Canneo ready to assume his temporary position, Chief Irepani sets out to the hut to question Zachaios and to ask the gods what has been found.
Last edited by Leikmis on Thu Nov 02, 2017 8:39 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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The Hierophancy
Diplomat
 
Posts: 811
Founded: Oct 24, 2016
Corporate Police State

Postby The Hierophancy » Thu Nov 02, 2017 10:02 pm

Colote

The life of a priests "assistant" proved a good deal easier, if not a bit more debasing, than that of being functionally unemployed. To better perform my duties as Tsijiari's helper I'd been granted a small pallet of sorts in his own hut - it wasn't much, but the quilted cotton that separated me from the cold stone floor was a good deal preferable to the simple mat of woven maguey and various bits of detris I had been resting in before. Living arrangements proved a good deal more crowded than the dead-man's home I had been squatting in the past few weeks, as I not only had to share a living space with Tsijiari, his wife and his youngest son, but Taríacuri as well - the speaker's other assistant. It was Taríacuri's job to handle the less glamorous of our shared duties - cleaning his clothing, preparing some of his meals, cleaning up the temple after a sacrifice... from what I could gather the lad, who was around 2 years my senior, had been at first meant to do the tasks I now carried out as well - the memorizing of new prayers, mixing of the sacred black dye, maintaining the idols with elaborate ceremony and ritual. His own memory has proven a bit insufficient for these tasks, however, when he managed to trip over his manlet and fall face first into the edge of the homes stone foundation. I felt sorry for Taríacuri - after all, my own memory wasn't exactly perfect, and unaided would likely not be sufficient for the rambling speeches I had to recall at the speaker's whim. Thankfully, I'd managed to procure a few broken up sheets of slate from a passing merchant, and using a dulled obsidian knife I'd found discarded by it's former owner, write all manner of things upon my miniature tablets.

It would take a week of my aiding the Speaker before he commented on the bundle of slate tablets I now carried about with me almost everywhere, usually wrapped in my own mantlet. "I always see you scratching away those stones when I tell you of incantations or holy rites, Uikixu-Úrhi - why is that?"

"Well, Revered Speaker, I'm recording what you tell me so as to make it easier to recall later." Tsijiari nodded slowly and looked over at my newest slate, already near half full with the stark white scrawlings I had transcribed - all in English, of course, for I could not bear to try and translate the lilting speech and complex rules of the so-called Maku Jakukata Katamba, or true-tongue, into written script.

"I've heard of such things - pictures and symbols to aid one in remembering what was said or done. But these lines and curls look like nonsense, scribbling."

"Revered Speaker, you are thinking of pictograms - this is true writing, where each symbol -" I pointed towards one of the small letters I'd inscribed earlier that day. "- is abstract and represents a sound spoken, not an image seen or thought of." Tsijiari looked at me with confusion now.

"So you are telling me each of these is a... a separate sound in the words I have told to you? That this rock can tell you or anyone who can read it exactly what I said to you, word for word?" I shrugged.

"Maybe not this slate - I record only an outline of what you tell me - but if I had written out every word you had said, they most certainly could." Tsijiari looked a bit uneasy, and returned to his work without comment.

Despite how relatively easy acting as Tsijiari's memory when one could simply write down what needed remembering, it still payed a good deal better than the more labor-intensive odd jobs I'd been performing before - and the Speaker was wealthy enough to pay entirety in cacao beans, the village's (and mesoamerica's in general, I presume) de facto currency. Unfortunately, the hours were also quite short, and due to how I was generally needed only infrequently, I had most of the day to myself. With most of the town inhabitants interviewed to my heart's content, I searched for new distractions, foremost among them hunting. My expeditions with Tlatli into the wilderness proved more shaming than educational, and as he was happy to tell me I was more a burden than benefactor. After a few weeks, however, I did manage to improve my aim with the simple bows utilized by Colote's hunters, and the spear-throwing sticks which were employed when stalking the more resilient prey - jaguars, mountains lions, tapirs and the like. I remained quite inept at the seeming instinctual art of sneaking about through the woods, though the pair of simple cotton pants I shelled out a few weeks wages for helped with the bruises and rashes traipsing through the jungle in a loincloth had earned me. Of course, they also made me seem an even odder figure among the locals, though a handful - including even Tlatli - saw the benefits of having your legs protected whilst in a forest swarming with flora and fauna ranging in danger from obnoxious to deadly, and within a weeks time I saw a good few of the town's hunters and couriers trudging through the woods in simple cotton pants. I was surprised at how swiftly some aspects of village life changed when a better alternative was presented, especially considering how traditionalist and staunchly opposed to change one would assume people who have lived like this for centuries would be. Yet another factor eroding my fragile belief that this was simply an isolated, comparably backwards community.

Hunting and trekking about the woods with Tlatli and, when he wasn't out looking for obsidian and jade, Chimali, was all well and good, but it didn't do much to solve one of the main contributors to potential boredom - the terrible monotony of my diet. Back in industrialized America, land of plenty, not having enough types of foods to eat had never really been a problem, but now that I was devouring mainly rations of tortilla, salt , chili and, once in a blue moon, a roast squash, the boring and bland nature of what I ate was starting to have worse and worse effects on my disposition. The more exotic foods available, however, required either a good deal more money than I was making or a garden, and my thumb's were about as far from green as they could get. I decided I needed some additional income - hell, if I made enough, maybe I could even purchase a pair of sandals. It took a few days to decide what it was I could provide unique to myself - eventually I chose to pursue the production of charcoal. It was a valuable fuel, after all, relatively easy to produce, and from what I'd seen as of yet not utilized by the people of Colote. My first piles of logs, leafs and mud proved relatively inefficient - a good deal of the fires within them either sputtered out or managed to heat up the soil around them to such an extent that it cracked open, spoiling the batch. By the end of the first week, however, I had managed to come up with a generally reliable "recipe" for the clamps I was assembling about town, and after a few days of chopping at trees with the blunt stone ax I'd purchased shortly after arriving in the village my mounds were ready. The fires burned for about 5 days, during which I had to frequently slather on new layers of mud where the layer of soil cracked, but when the flames had finally died out, the charcoal produced was of acceptable quality, and after a few demonstrations to the natives showing off the high heat produced by burning the carbonized wood along with the substances healing properties (which I may or may not have made up) I was able to sell most of my stock for quite the profit. Being a collier was all well and good, but after a few weeks of it I was starting to become bored with the monotony of it, and sales were slumping, mainly due to the fact that the locals either didn't need to consume much of the stuff or were simply content with cheaper firewood. What I need to do was create demand, or maybe just find a use for my charcoal that raked in even more profit than the fuel along. I began searching for rust-red waters...

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Ulls
Minister
 
Posts: 3020
Founded: Jan 02, 2017
Ex-Nation

Postby Ulls » Fri Nov 03, 2017 12:11 am

City of Ego,
Land of Ego,
3 Weeks later


Jeb returned home, his trip to Europe was good and freighting at the same time. The King agreed to the deal and the Skulk had a powerbase and Ego can expand upon that. The very idea of the Old World will awaken Ego to the expansive world and get them to start focusing outward but there was also the threats at home and abroad. Turner and his Skulk were about to go to war, stories of this Imperium of Man shocked him despite him knowing very little of them besides what the King told him and he needed to know to protect his country from them if they are a great threat.

He sent a specific Skulk band under a man who went by the codename Comacho. Comacho was among the first native Sami Skulk to have their own base among the trade routes of Western Europe. His job was to get infiltrators into the Imperium via Brittany and the Balkans as migrates through the trade connections. Their job was simple, investigate the Imperium and report back findings, find any useful advance technology that could be smuggled out, and get into some relative stations but nothing too high.

It would be a long-term, deep infiltration that can allow Jeb to understand the magnitude of the threat he's dealing with. He trusted Comacho as a community leader but he also knew that he was interested in getting a cut off the exotic trade that Ego may bring to the Kingdom. Which Jeb promised he will be rewarded by working with for the Skulk and his name will be known in the King's court for years to come.

Still, there was the imminent danger of Turner and the civil war. Jeb had understand his mistake and let his paranoia get to him. He was too defensive but he also knew Turner had became quite the mastermind while he was away, building up a circle from his province in Ego and using his riches from the rapid industrialization and River Trade to let the plans that the Skulk had been able to find out go into effect.

Jeb deep down inside knew it was his fault but he became his enemy. However with the opening of Europe, a power base for the Skulk, and this foreboding Imperium that lingers on his mind, he needed to begrudgingly make peace with Turner and seek forgiveness. The longships brought lots of exotic goods home, including a horses of mixture of breeds from Imperial merchants that Comacho did for him. Despite Ego would've been able to pay for them in full, his daughter's mass industrial improvements made him promise monthly installments via the Sami Skulk.

Nevertheless, those that had made it through the perilous trip were met with wander as merchants came through Twilight's Gate and told the people a fabricated story that the Night Owl showed them the way to fortune. The grand admiral herself was shocked to see the goods that came from across the Atlantic and made sure that Jeb got to the capital right away. She was scared to get one, many were but Jeb and other merchants that he taught to ride on horseback in Imperial-made saddles and bridles that the Skulk remade for the rest of the of horses and rode to down the rest of the city to show off the imported beast.

A message was made before he made it to the capital to Turner with informal writing;

To: Turner

I know you know I'm alive, come see me in the capital and bring any of your trusted men with you to make you feel safe. I brought horses from Europe and there's some information that I need to divulge to you before we decide to rip Ego apart because of my mistake.

signed,

Jeb


He met his daughter outside of a community and he wondered how she know about the Skulk, she said that she found out about the bodyguards and demanded to know about what her father's been doing or she'll cut their funding. She understood that this was meant to be against Turner but that wasn't needed and they needed to make peace. She wanted to expand Ego's industrial might and get them to expand into the Great Lakes to have a cultural effect on America, not keep fighting each other in a ninth war for no reason. People were used to war and have ingrained but they hate to fight each other again and people were already getting use to peace underneath the Theocracy.

Her children went to go touch the 15ft tall majestic creature with awe in their eyes. They touched and petted the face and body of the horse and Jeb said that he had more, enough for Ego to replace human logistics teamsters and make their own but had to pay it back in monthly instalments to the Imperium, which peaked her interest.

That's when Jeb told her everything that happened in Europe and how it can open doors for Ego. She was both afraid of the ramifications and happy for it can force Ego to start taking an interest to the rest of the world. However, the distant threat of the Imperium still made her very unhappy that he didn't think this through entirely. Jeb said he didn't knew at the time and still don't know how dangerous they are but he had made a powerbase among their allies the Sami and recruited the native of Europe who trade with the Imperium to understand the threat and how dangerous they are.

They went back to the palace in secret and Jeb and Morning Star were discussing things while they waited for Turner to show.
Last edited by Ulls on Fri Nov 03, 2017 9:35 am, edited 1 time in total.

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The Olog-Hai
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6116
Founded: May 12, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby The Olog-Hai » Fri Nov 03, 2017 6:42 am

Abraham Meyer,
Settlement of Trenton, Franklin


It was finally all coming together. After about 8 years of hard labor, the second city, Trenton, was nearly finished. This was a monumental task, to be true, as Franklin itself had been a challenge, and it hadn't had half as many people working on it. But the city was finally finished, and what a wonder of modern, for this world as least, technology it was. Not pure iron, obviously, as there were not the resources to pull that off, but not pure wood, either, a mix of all three, typically the iron for holding it together, stone for the foundations and some of the lower walls, and wood for the rest. Additionally, he had managed to pull off a rough hypocaust system, like the Romans had used in their baths, so that heat could flow among the buildings as long as a fire was kept going at the end of the tunnels. He had the frameworks for internal piping, too, but that was a task for later. For steel, he thought, so the pipes wouldn't be quite so prone to rusting over.

They could start moving in within the week, he supposed. Trenton contained all the necessities of a growing city, a place by the water where a port could later be constructed, so that trade could be performed more easily with the nation known as Ego, and the other "Outworlder" as he was called. That had to mean that there were more than just the two of them, and most of them had to be modernizing this world. He could never go back, he supposed. Already, Abraham had messed with the local world more than enough to know that, and who knew how much had happened with this Ego? He knew that their craftsmen were bright, if all the people displaced from time were to leave suddenly, what would happened? This all seemed very reminiscent of that Mark Twain book, what was it? It had been too long... it was the one about a machinist finding himself in Camelot, wherein he convinced them that he was a better magician than Merlin, and eventually made gunpowder and an electric fence. Abraham supposed he was like that. Sighing, he set off for Franklin. He really needed a better method of transportation, as soon as he could get that boiler finished and get his hands on some coal, he would get to work on a railroad.

A few days later

Eventually he made it back to his city, his people, and most importantly, his workshop. It was good, didn't look like his aides, who were now full adults, and looked older than him, had burned down the workshop in his absence. Approaching closer, he saw that they were finishing up the latest rendition of the boiler. That was good, too, they could take that to the clearing that was a ways away, and try it out. He shouted out a greeting, and ran over. It was ready to test. It took all of three of them, but they managed to take the bulky creation of iron over to the clearing, and Abraham began laying out the fuse, one of his assistants making sure that the end stayed in the pile of wood that was to heat the boiler. Coal would be better, but the wood would do for now. As they reached the end of the fuse, they lit it, and rushed inside the workshop, ringing a bell that Abraham had installed to warn people to stay inside the city. The flame traveled down the fuse, and the boiler was lit. It ran for a bit, producing steam, but eventually the pressure built up too much, and it exploded in a cloud of shrapnel.

Abraham and his assistants waited until the explosions had subsided and they could hear again, and then went out to examine the wreckage. They had gotten so close, but again too much pressure had built up. Perhaps they could make some sort of steam cannon out of this, Abraham thought. He told his assistants to take notes on the results of this, on cured pieces of hide, effectively parchment, before sitting down on a log to think about what he would do once he got his boiler working. He'd need coal, that's for sure. But there wasn't much coal, if any, in New Jersey. No, he'd have to head to Pennsylvania to find a deposit. And that would be a bit far, but he'd manage. Abraham began drawing on his ideas for the expedition in his head as he headed back to the workshop to begin work on the boiler mark 200, probably, by this point.
It appears I'm an INTP-T. You're not gonna get much more about me.
Wenglesy wrote:Might as well submit now to the obviously superior forces of Legyon fun Genital.

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Holy Tedalonia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10889
Founded: Nov 14, 2016
Moralistic Democracy

Postby Holy Tedalonia » Fri Nov 03, 2017 7:55 am

Coastline somewhere near Plymouth, May 30th 85 AG
Ted peered calmly at the sword, "Dente Ferro" or rather Steel Tooth. It was the name Ted had given his forge sword and its name was engraved with copper. The blade held a fine quality and was created by one of the great blacksmiths of the Imperium. This sword was crafted after every weapon Ted ever wielded minus his crossbow. Every weapon he ever had contributed in the creation of this sword, however not all the materials were used, since the metals were weak and outdated. Ted wondered how far this blade would stay with him, and if it would survive the destructive power of history eating away at anything old. This was the only thing he could really consider a companion, even more then the greedy and oppurtunistic fishermen next to him.

Ted stopped staring at the sword, and looked around to see if they had made it. Once he saw the coastline he knew they had made it. The greedy fishermen eyes Ted pouch greedily as the boat lands ashore. Ted grabs his pouch and grabs the silvers and places it in the gold lusting fingers of the fisherman. Undoubtedly he'd would give up Ted's position for could, and he hoped for that outcome, perhaps it'd cause diplomatic issues maybe not, but it's harder for the imperium to chase him here. As the fisherman sails away, Ted looks inland for a knew home and and new future.
Last edited by Holy Tedalonia on Fri Nov 10, 2017 9:14 am, edited 2 times in total.
Name: Ted
Ideology: Capitalism
Political Compass: Social Libertarian for some reason
Race: Vampire
Political Side: Right
Favorite Senator: Ted Cruz (Ted's have to help out Ted's)
Status: Healthy and as strong as a starved ox
I M P E R I A LR E P U B L I C

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Skarten
Senator
 
Posts: 4681
Founded: Dec 08, 2015
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Skarten » Fri Nov 03, 2017 10:03 am



Northern Japan,Dewa.

Yaroshima was on the forest. He was wearing Leather clothing, with a copper breastplate. On his back, a primitive wicker basket, filled with, what yaroshima hoped were tin and copper ores.
The author was looking for tin. If he found enough of it, he could try to make bronze. That would give the Kōshitu clan a even bigger advantage over the other tribes of Japan.

Usually, you'd think a chief would just send a villager to do the work, but, the villagers didn't know about tin, or how it looked like. It was hard enough to teach a few of them on how to find copper.

So Yaroshima was in the forest, near a river looking for Cassiterite (The easiest way to get tin was to extract it from Cassiterite).

As he was walking alongside the river, he picked ores which he thought were cassiterite.

Some Hours later, Back at the village.

Yaroshima was back at his old house. While he had a new hut (House of the previous chief), the old one he had lived in was now used by him and other villagers (The ones who had learned such art) as a place to smelt ores, make weaponry, and etc.

He was using charcoal to heat up the furnace. Once the fire was high enough, he would put in the Cassiterite and copper ores (In a different, smaller furnace though), and hope that it worked.

Some time later

The ores were removed from the furnace carefully. Yaroshima then used a water solution to remove remaining impurities.
And it worked! Several tin ores could be seen.
Now, bronze could be made!
He added the tin to the molten copper, and started to produce a bronze alloy.
If this worked, that would mean the Bronze age was coming for Japan.

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Revlona
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5381
Founded: Jan 23, 2017
Father Knows Best State

Postby Revlona » Fri Nov 03, 2017 10:47 am

Robert
Brest
June 22, 13 AA

The Month has gone fast, I have received my Auxiliary commission, the test's where rather easy, and even though i didn't ace my swordsman ship, I impressed the instructors with my skill with Justice. I have spoken again with the Lord-Commander about the raiders to the south and he has agreed to help me deal with them. I am still interested in Exploring Africa, and i have spoken to the Lord-Commander about it, he has promised to pass my requests up the chain of command.
Lover of doggos

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Labstoska
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1441
Founded: Apr 22, 2016
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Labstoska » Fri Nov 03, 2017 10:50 am

John Collins
The population of Newholm was now beginning to rapidly expand it appeared to John that once the exodus had finally be completed a massive baby boom had taken place now John was needing to not only create home's for these people but find food for them as well. The current bureaucracy of the Khanate, which was currently just John and a few other priests, was simply not up to the task of providing these people with homes. So John began the process of expanding the bureaucracy of the Khanate, he started of the process by creating two new political organisations, the first of which was the ministry of agriculture who would keep track of food production and would ensure that farmers met their quotas and secondly there was the ministry of labour who's job it was to ensure that the people of the Khanate all had roofs over their heads and that they were all provided with a job. The process of declaring these organisation's existence was far easier than finding people who were willing to take up the roll of a bureaucrat and then training such people in the ways of maths and proper grammar was far more difficult but this was why the school curriculum was set up in the first place. This lead to the first people being taught at the school house ,which had been built a few days prior, not being the youth of the Khanate but instead being soon to be bureaucrats. It was an arduous and extremely frustrating process but eventually John and the priests who were acting as teachers managed to educate these men. Soon after this the two ministries began their work at once and the looming crisis of starvation and overpopulation was brought to an end.

This also proved the effectiveness of the school system that John and the priesthood had devised this lead to the construction of two new schoolhouses and the fact that John was now ordering for vast amounts of reeds to be collected. When the workers first heard of John's demand for reads they began to suspect that the great prophets mind had begun to deteriorate however after days of hard work he had finally achieved his goal, he emerged from his hut with an armful of papyrus which he and a group of workmen who offered to help him began to deliver them down to the new schoolhouses. Two days later John declared in the middle of what had become a kind of town centre right outside of the small chapel that every parent was to send their child to these schoolhouses in order to see wether or not they would be suitable to join the new school system. This declaration immediately evoked outrage among the people of the Khanate, who disliked the idea of the state deciding what their child should learn or not learn.

Their outrage was so great that a small band of concerned parents began marching towards the new schoolhouses intending to rip them down. What ensued next was a skirmish between the mob and the Zealous. Needless to say that after the battle was concluded the first state owned orphanage was opened up. At the end of the day the parents of the Khanate conceded to Johns demands and their children were sent to the schools but it was noted by the Zealous that the once vicious patriotism that the people of the Khanate once felt for their nation had somewhat disappeared.

In order to improve his public opinion John began to get more involved with everyday lives of his citizens, he would often help with the farming and would even sometimes help out the workmen who cut down the great trees which surrounded the town of Newholm. John's involvement in the daily jobs of the Khanate lead to a rather curious incident for while he was aiding the fishermen (they were still using spears to catch the fish) he somehow managed to cut his foot on a rather sharp object. When he bent down to see what this object he noticed that it was some type of metal ore. The image of this ore floated around in his mind for a few moments looking for something to connect with until eventually it hit him, this ore was tin. He tried to leap out of the river until he noticed that his foot was hurting quite a bit so he asked one of the fishermen to aid him. He and his helper marched back into Newholm until they reached the hut in which the ministry of labour operated out of. He ordered them to begin damming up the river where the Tin ore had been found, when they asked him why he simply replied that what he had found something that would bring about a new age for the Khanate, the officials within the ministry of labour not wishing to disobey their most heavenly Khan began ordering the labourers under them to begin work at once. John knew that once this ore was successfully mined it would be the herald of a new age, the bronze age.

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G-Tech Corporation
P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 56511
Founded: Feb 03, 2010
Democratic Socialists

Postby G-Tech Corporation » Fri Nov 03, 2017 1:21 pm

Part 7, Chapter 5: Peace Waits


June 5th, 85 AG

A sunlit evening, the fiery orb of day sinking towards the western horizons over the lake. It was a pleasant escape from the oppressive heat of the flatlands, here in the hills and low mountains of the Balkans, and I relished the slight chill that settled over the mountain villa as afternoon turned toward night. In my hand the brass goblet grew heavy once more, and I politely thanked the serving girl who had refilled my glass with a winsome smile that made her turn away and blush, unaccustomed to being addressed by one of the prominent men she worked to please. With a single movement I brought the gaudy gem-studded contraption to my lips and sipped, the pleasant fragrance of an earth red filling my nose and mouth, and after a moment I placed the goblet on the low stone table with obvious relish.

"A fine vintage you have brought for us, Viktor."

Heads bobbed around the stone table, some piled in curls after the fashion of the wealthy ladies of the coast, others balding or cut close like those of military men. Many were graying, their age betrayed in body if not in mind, but some were still hale and black or brown; of course, that was for a good reason, for some of the men who sat here looked ill at ease in the social setting, warriors and warlords. This region of the upper Greek peninsula had proven quite receptive to the overtures of the men of the region, merchants, scholars, entrepreneurs, when it came to closer economic and political ties to the Imperium which I commanded. Not all of the men here were locals- indeed, perhaps a third of their number were Brightlords, Firstmen, notables of the local merchant class. They nodded all the same, for such a bland nicety could scarcely be disagreed with.

"I thank you for your kind words, Ygriegos. I would not put vinegar before such a gathering as this, I assure you."

The local elder nodded, and a few chuckles could be heard in the assembled masses, bursting through the morass of conversations and side-talks that went around the great stone edifice. It was a dull cacophony, but one I enjoyed, for the variety of humanity on display I never tired of observing. An old habit from an old life. This meeting, this feast, was just the capstone on Governor-General Klethis' efforts in the region, that of seducing those men with influence and power to the idea of being part of a great whole than their individual towns and petty fiefs. Some were not here, men who held their individual power closer to their hearts than they feared the Imperium, or thought to use the influence of her positions to gain advancement over their rivals.

But this was the signifier. When we retired later from the feast, bellies heaving, some minds dulled with wine, many men had signed the documents that I had hoped to see progress on. Their oaths I would take in the morning, once many had sobered up, and their positions would be left to Klethis and his able functionaries to assign. The fertile land of the Adriatic coast and Albania's mountain vales would be an excellent site for the growing of the vineyards which could produce vintages like unto that which my functionaries had provided for this assignation, and humanity would flourish, Christians and men who wished to be Imperials now joined in truth to that which they craved.

Kasr Fundas, Virginia, North America
May 13th, 85 AG

Vladimir scowled at the crude maps the scouts had returned with. It seemed there were no better anchorages for some distance, which was good, but also that there were a large concentration of indigenous in the region, which was more of a mixed bag. Some seemed friendly enough, like the small tribes the patrols encountered with frequency in the firth of the Kasr, but others seemed more wary of the strangers in their midst, and working through their languages would take time. Even Brother Viarmo, as gifted as he was with tongues, could only communicate with the nearby village at the apex of the peninsula via pantomime and mud-scratchings.

The former Emperor grinned, recognizing his own impatience. Well, that he should take for granted. After all, these were tongues unrelated to any that the good Brother had ever encountered in Europe, an entirely different language family. It would take time, weeks probably, before the locals could understand anything he would speak in a proper meaningful fashion, and longer still for any proper relations to be established. That gap, of course, was why the Kasr had been raised so quickly; rambunctious locals who couldn't understand the meaning of outsiders, who hated "demons" or "ghosts" or whatever the local mythologies called people with white-faces, they had to be guarded against.

Not that the salt-and-peppered bearded man feared for his troops, summatively. Still, misunderstandings could be most easily avoided if everyone gave peace a chance, and it wouldn't be proper to lose some of the intrepid souls he had brought with him to something so mundane as a mud-smeared native with a deathwish. It wouldn't be the best introduction of Old World and New, not in the least.

The sound of boots on the rough wooden vantage point disturbed the old man, and he turned sky-blue eyes on an interloper bearing the insignia of the Twelfth. A hasty salute, a second for the young soldier to catch his breath, and then a stammered report.

"Hegemon, Captain Restimar reports sighting a significant village of locals on the inlet to the south-east; several hundred, at least, with longships of some dubious provenance. They appear to be sedentary, and organized, and he asks permission to make first contact from the Golden Hind."

Ah, what the ships had been searching for. The Annals spoke of native populations more sophisticated than the tribal hunter-gatherers that the expedition had encountered so far, and these more civilized folk might be exactly what could be valuable to the expedition in her quest to reprovision for further jaunts up and down the coast.

"Tell the Captain my permission is granted, and he is to proceed with due caution."
TG if you have questions about RP. If I don't know the answer, I know someone who does.

Quite the unofficial fellow. P2TM Mentor specializing in faction and nation RPs, as well as RPGs.

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Arulean States
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Posts: 1228
Founded: Mar 24, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Arulean States » Fri Nov 03, 2017 2:40 pm

Virginia, Near Present-Day Norfolk, April 2915 B.C. Day Three
As per our arrangement, Mahigan woke me at dawn. Wiping sleep from my eyes, I stood as quietly as I could and followed him out of the yehakin. It was raining outside, and together we guided the wheelbarrow toward the center of the village, moving under the cover of the trees to avoid getting wet. When we arrived in the center of the village, the Elders were already waiting. Again, the faction in favor of my presence noticeably split from those who opposed it.
“Well, man of riverside clay?” Mingan began cheerfully, drawing glares from Chansomps and Nixkamich, who had been deliberately not told of the earlier meeting. “You have told us that you are ready for your trial, whereas you were given until the sun reaches its apex to complete your task. You have finished this far ahead of schedule?”
“Yes, great werowance, I have,” I replied, “I would present to the Elders of Arrohattoc the wheelbarrow!” I made a grand gesture, and moved to reveal the device to the waiting Elders.
They did not appear overawed by the device, so I repeated for them the demonstration I had given to Mingan the night before. “You see great Elders, this device might be used to greatly ease the work that your people will have to do. It would enable easier harvests, and if I am given enough time, I might be able to create a device which would greatly ease the difficulty of planting.”
“It is certainly impressive, this thing that you have built,” said Chansomps, looking at me in a new light. “Perhaps you truly do hold knowledge beyond what the spirits have given us.”
“Great Elder, this is only the beginning. I asked you to a meeting this early because I have things I wish to discuss with the five of you. I wish for Mahigan to be present, as well as Askuwheteau. I would give everything I know to your people as a gesture of good will.”
“This is a grand promise indeed,” Nixkamich said. “If you would give charity as grand as you claim it too be, you must be a gift from the spirits!”
“No, Great Elder. I am as human as any of you. But I believe that it is my duty to do all that I can to help all of your people as much as I can, just as Mahigan might believe that it is his duty to protect his people.”
“Hmm, taking this into consideration, I would be willing to accept your presence within the village,” replied Nixkamich.
“As would I,” said Chansomps.
“I thank you for your generosity,” I said in reply. “We should move to the Great Lodge, for we have many things to discuss,” then turning to Mahigan, “Go, run and wake Askuwheteau, for I would have him join us. Thank you for doing this.” Mahigan nodded, then ran off to do as I’d asked. The Elders turned and walked into the Great Lodge and I followed them inside.
We sat in a much more even, circular pattern than we had before, and ate a breakfast of rough cornbread and berries while we waited for Mahigan to return with Askuwheteau. While we waited, we made some small talk, and I explained how the wheelbarrow and the other simple machines worked. They seemed fascinated by the ideas I put forth, but we eventually reached the point where I could not explain things without using physics. Though they certainly had numbers, they lacked any kind of written language, which I added to my growing list of things to do.
I figured it took almost an hour for Mahigan to return, and we could hear Askuwheteau’s complaining long before he entered the lodge. Realizing that I wasn’t sure of the time, I informed the Elders of the sun dial, which could tell them the time of day. They thought it mildly impractical, instead advocating for simply using the sun’s position in the sky. This seemed a fair enough point to me, but I explained how it would be easier to use than using hands and fingers to tell time. I had of course learned of how it worked as a Boy Scout, and I intended to inform the Elders of my practical knowledge as much as my theoretical knowledge.
Once everyone was settled, I began the speech I had prepared in my head, “Great Elders of Arrohattoc, I thank you for granting me an audience. As you have seen, I have a great many wonders to share with your people. However, I would not limit their spread to only one village. While I will build the things I know here, I would have men from the other villages come here to learn how to build them.”
“And why should we allow them to do that?” asked Nixkamich. “They do not aid us in any way! They do not defend us, and they do not feed us!”
“Ah, but it is not us who gives them this technology,” Mingan replied. “It is only by Liam Zvi Avraham’s generosity that we would receive any of this.”
“That is very true, brother,” said Chansomps. The other Elders nodded in agreement. Seeing he was defeated, Nixkamich quieted.
Continuing, I said, “I have already begun to draft ideas for my next project. I would like to start by beginning to manufacture more wheelbarrows, and then begin to build a furnace to produce clay bricks. Once that is done, I would ask for permission to construct fortifications around the village, to protect us from the raiders of the Iroquois of the north.”
“These ideas intrigue me, but a wall is impractical. Though this is only our second year encamped here, we must move again in only six years, so that the soil might replenish.”
“Not necessarily, Great Elder,” I replied, “In the land I come from, there are many ways in which people enrich the soil. There is a system which will allow you to remain in the same place and never risk the soil becoming infertile. It works on a rotating system of four fields. In one, you plant corn, in the next, you plant what is called a winter wheat, to be harvested latter and aid in feeding your people during winter, in the third, you plant legumes, which enrich and aerate the soil, and in the final field you plant something called a potato. Every planting season, you rotate which crop is planted in which, so that the soil is never worn out by any single crop. It will take some serious effort by your people to create this type of system, but it is not impossible. Additionally, once I know that things here are well under way, I would ask to lead a group of warriors out to locate sources of limestone, coal and iron.”
This drew a blank reaction, so I elaborated by explaining what each looked like. Though none of them had heard of the rocks, they promised that the runners they sent to ask the other villages for delegates would also ask if they knew of any nearby deposits of them. I knew generally that there was limestone and coal out west, but I just wasn’t sure where.
“Elders, do you have a map? I think it would be beneficial to use to explain the next step of my plan.” Askuwheteau fetched for me a crudely drawn map of approximately the states of Virginia, Maryland, and North Carolina. Gesturing to the map, I said, “I would like to send out search parties to travel to these areas, in search for the resources I need to build my devices,” and pointed to the Appalachians in western Virginia, an area in southern Virginia which I thought had Iron, and a few places which I remembered held limestone.
The Elders nodded, then Mingan said, “And who would you have lead these expeditions?”
“Ideally, I would like to do it myself, but I think I will be busy with matters in this village and the others. In my stead, I would propose Askuwheteau be given leadership over the mission north, where there is the greatest risk of encountering the Iroquois.”
Askuwheteau started in surprise, but the Elders simply nodded. “Askuwheteau has proven a competent leader of our warriors. He will do well with this task,” said Chansomps
“Thank you, Great Elders,” Askuwheteau replied, still somewhat shocked by the development.
We spent much of the day laying out my plans, and explaining how they would benefit the Powhatan people.
Finally, towards the end of the day, with conversation winding down, I sprung my final idea. “Great Elders, I have one more idea. I would propose uniting the Powhatan peoples by using my technology as an incentive for loyalty. Villages will only be given access to the new technology if they swear loyalty to the Confederacy. I would ask that Mingan, werowance, take the title of Powhatan, and lead the Confederacy as Wahunsunacawh of it’s peoples.”
The room greeted this with silence, finally broken by Mingan who said, “If you can truly do all that you say, I would lead if you asked me too, though I do not wish too.”
“Then it is settled!” I said, happily. “Shall we adjourn, and begin these plans in the morning?” The room nodded consent, and I departed with Mingan and Mahigan. We ate dinner much as we had the previous two days, but this time with more open conversation. I went to sleep that night satisfied with my day’s work, eager to begin the process of building a nation.
5- At peace
4- Potential threat
3- Active preparations for war
2- Mobilization of Armed reserves and Militias
1- All out war

You can call me Aru

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Pasong Tirad
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 9823
Founded: May 31, 2007
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Pasong Tirad » Fri Nov 03, 2017 3:35 pm

Arsenio Lacson,
or Arsenios Thalassos
Athínai


His Next Month in Athínai


Five Weeks

Arsenio was able to hunt his first boar the other day after a lucky spear throw. He was athletic enough for that, at least. He still had a lot of practice to go with the spear throwing, but a lucky kill is still a kill. They feasted in the village that night with several other boars that were caught. As the killer of one of the boars, he was given the boar's fur, and a toast was dedicated in his honor. He needed the fur, actually. It was warm enough to use as a blanket - and he really needed more blankets. Having spent his whole life living in a tropical climate, to be transported so rapidly to a place where even the afternoons feel cold was torture for Arsenio. His body's getting used to it, no doubt, but he still gets chilly every night. It's a miracle that he hasn't gotten a cold from having to endure temperatures that go below 20 degrees every night.

Six Weeks

He was getting used to coming home to that shabby stone house with clay floors on the rock of the Acropolis (they didn't actually call it that) right next to the Elder's own modest home. He sleeps at night with the door open. He didn't have any valuables for anybody to steal, not that there were any criminals around. But he kept the door open for the goats. They were getting used to his presence, and they liked curling up right next to the fire. The two ewes still did what they do and roamed around the rock, though, but that's fine. The sloping path down from the Acropolis was gated, and the edges of the Rock were forested enough as to make the chances of the sheep falling to their deaths very minimal.

The next day, he spent his time gathering clay and bringing it up the Rock. It took all morning and by noon the clay was almost hard. He'd watched something like this on the internet before - it seemed like ages ago by now, but he still vaguely remembers the gist of it. A guy made roof tiles out of clay mixed in with dead shrubbery (why shrubbery, he didn't know). He carved them up into tile-like shapes and leaned them up against the wall of his home, facing the sun. But, by the time he finished one batch of tiles, the sun had already started to go down. He needed a furnace, but he didn't know how to make one yet. Kleomaki does, though. Arsenio made a mental note to ask Kleomaki to teach him how to make a furnace. Kleomaki and Lysistrate kept coming to his home to have dinner a few nights a week. Arsenio believes Lysistrate must have been concerned over Arsenio's constant weeping - every single night that he spent in Kleomaki's home was a night when he would weep. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night and scream, sometimes he would wake up to scream out a name - but, either way, this just led to more tears. Arsenio still hasn't gotten used to being home. Maybe he never will get used to it.

Seven Weeks

Arsenio met a man from the Imperium (they rarely got traders that come from the Imperium) who sold him a spear for some meat, milk, the fur from the boar he killed two weeks ago, and his old spear - a shoddy, copper-tipped piece of garbage compared to what he was getting in return. He went hungry for a night and a day, but it didn't matter that much. It was almost five feet long (the shaft ended on his shoulder, and the tip was pretty long) with a shaft made of strong wood and an straight-bladed iron spearhead - but what made Arsenio buy it immediately was that the butt of the spear was capped with metal to act as a counterweight. The Athínai still hadn't gotten around to being able to make iron (they were barely making bronze), so they had to manage by trading with the Imperium. It was long enough to use in melee, but short and light enough to be thrown. He still wasn't very good with it (it would take him months to be able to master the spear), but it made him feel safer to have a weapon longer (and stronger) than the copper dagger he has in his house.

The next day, he immediately got out into his yard to practice with it - thrusting it in the air several times, getting used to its weight by holding it up at chest level for a few minutes, practicing some squats with it. He had some very basic knowledge of how to use long, polearm-like weapons from a physical education class he had back in college, but that was around eight years ago and he barely even remembers it. He knew how to hold the spear, how to grip it like a bayonet and how to thrust without giving away any weak spots, but that was about it. He had to learn more, and he did that by going out to hunt.

His hunt was a failure though, but he was able to throw the spear a couple of times. It grazed a boar once, and it landed on an angle on the earth another time, the head sticking right into the muddy ground. He could barely lift his arms the next day. His muscles were growing even though he was getting leaner.

Eight Weeks

A pack of dogs wandered into Athínai one morning - Arsenio says it was a Sunday, or at least, it would have been a Sunday back in his own time. The villagers were able to corral them into the public square. They were fully surrounded by a mob of weary - and slightly hungry - villagers. The dogs would have been turned into food had Arsenio not intervened. With his own spear in hand, he was able to convince the villagers to back off. Luckily, Elder Thespis was also in the public square and was able to intervene. Favoring his protégé, he agreed to let Arsenio keep one or two of the dogs, and he told the rest of the village that anybody who wished to take home and keep some of the dogs were allowed to do so. Elder Thespis seemed to recognize that there was something special about this particular pack. Arsenio knew too well that some of those dogs are going to be food for the villagers, but he was hoping that maybe some of them would at least be kept around. Dogs are good security, and they could be used as some extra paws for when they go out to hunt.

With some meat, he was able to befriend a pregnant female (a very pregnant female) and was able to convince her to come back with him to his home on the Rock. Arsenio planned to help the female through her pregnancy, and then keep all of her litter as his own. He named her Μανιλα (Manila), after a home he could barely even remember anymore.

Arsenio didn't know much about this world, but he did know about dogs. He's been keeping dogs since he was a young boy and he's taken care of plenty of them. He judged that Manila should be around a month into her pregnancy, which means that she'll be delivering after around another month. And, with Manila's size, he guessed that he would be hosting at least three pups and as many as possibly six. He just wasn't entirely sure how many pups ancient dogs gave birth to. For all he knew, she might even be pregnant with only one pup.

He spent the rest of his day playing on the Rock of the Acropolis with Manila. She was friendly enough that she didn't want to rip out the throats of his livestock. She even chased the goats around the Rock for a few minutes before she got tired. Thankfully, the Athínaíoi were able to dig a well on the Rock for Elder Thespis, and so he was able to help her replenish herself easily. He spent the rest of that afternoon training her to respond to her new name. "Good girl, Manila," he said to her, after she ran home in the evening when he called him. She licked his hands affectionately, ate a piece of cured meat out of his hand, and went to sleep next to the goats near the fire. Arsenio cuddled up right next to her and the goats later that evening.

There were no nightmares that night. No weeping, either. Just a dog making him scream in the middle of the night because she kicked him in the crotch.
Last edited by Pasong Tirad on Fri Nov 03, 2017 3:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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