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New Civilizations [IC | Closed]

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G-Tech Corporation
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Founded: Feb 03, 2010
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

New Civilizations [IC | Closed]

Postby G-Tech Corporation » Fri Jan 12, 2018 3:48 pm

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The year is 2900 B.C.

A century ago, the world was changed forever. In a strange set of events that will echo through the ages, history is now being rewritten by the arrival of men and women from the far future: The Authors. The Authors were average men and women from the year 2016 swept up by unknown and supernatural forces and sent back five thousand years, naked and alone, but in possession of all the knowledge of their old lives. Made ageless by whatever force has cast them in to the distant past, the more apt and adaptable Authors used their ability and their wits to craft for themselves a new life in this time long forgotten. As the decades have progressed, the primitive villages which they once inhabited have now become civilizations in their own right, castles, palaces, marketplaces that teem with men speaking many tongues. These civilizations were the product not of the organic and natural flow of time, but by the intervention of the Authors - New Civilizations! This is not human history as we know it, this is the new history - formed by seemingly immortal, yet very human men and women. Humanity's story has been changed; in five thousand years' time what will the history books say - who shall be its Authors?

A changed world languishes under the sun of distant prehistory. A world that, though it yet fails to suspect the true impact the actions of these many Authors may have upon it, already feels a part of the alterations they have wrought. Most of mankind goes about their lives as they have always done; seasons come, seasons go, tribe-fathers pass on to the ancestors and the sun rises and sets as it has done for uncounted generations. Petty wars over petty reasons see tens of warriors painted in savage colors beat back their foes, and man's crowning achievement is the pointy stick. This is not the case everywhere though. The wind of change blows strong in some quarters of the world, sweeping these vestiges of the past before it, the herald of ought which is different cold and stark in its fury.

Across the world, men march beneath banners of many hues, there numbers now no longer tens of tribal warriors, but thousands of professional soldiers driven forward by an engine of war and industry which seems insatiable. By steel and sword and bronze and bow they seek power, wealth, glory. In their hands weapons flash fire and thunder, and from the throats of these killers come war-cries in a tongue both familiar and utterly alien, men willing to die for an idea much larger than familial bond or base need. The ancestors no more are venerated in many places across the world, strange concepts of divine beings that shape the weft of the universe overtaking the simple shamanism and informal worship of former years. On the sundered tempest-tossed seas men stand upon ships fashioned of the bowers of forest giants, sails harnessing the power of wind and tide to take fur-clad explorers farther than any humble tribesman would deem possible. Yes, this world is changed; some would say for the better, some would say for the worse, but none can deny the truth of that difference. You are now returned to this world, an Author, a man out of time, an Outlander, an immortal. Your handprints will mark this world, like those of so many before you. What will be your story?
TG if you have questions about RP. If I don't know the answer, I know someone who does.

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G-Tech Corporation
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby G-Tech Corporation » Sun Jan 14, 2018 6:01 pm

Bestride Terra
Viktor Nemtsov - Part 6, Chapter 1: The Day of the Gift


January 1st, 100 AG

The rumble of drums came from down the promenade, and I leaned forward, eyes cast skyward. Yes, the airship was turning- it was time then. A glance at my watch confirmed my assumptions, the ivory timepiece showing that it was now the noon hour, and thus all was in readiness. I rose from my chair on the reviewing stand near the Tower of Rule, half-thankful to shift my weight from its shifting posture, half-dreading all the standing that would have to be done now. Next to me Alexander rose with a partially stifled groan of chagrin, and I smiled over at the Emperor, returning his bemused expression.

We had both been at more of these military parades in our lifetimes than I had ever cared to attend. Vladimir, at my right hand, remained seated, but he at least could plead age for his reticence to stand erect for hours of ceremonial procession. Not to mention he was holding corralled Andrei and Sasha, the two sons of the Emperor and his Rhonish wife, who were already fidgeting after a bare two hours out in the winter chill waiting for thousands of servicemen and soldiers to be prepared.

I ran a distracted hand through my beard, unconsciously thankful it did not show the salt-and-pepper that already graced that of my great-grandson. It was a distinguished look, to be sure, but I would have been shocked beyond reason if my own physical appearance had begun manifesting such signs of aging. It was one of the fundamental building-blocks of my character these days, my endurance and immutability, and in no small part the assumption upon which the Imperium stood; precisely why today, the Day of the Gift, was celebrated not only formally by the state, but also informally by many citizens.

A half-step forward took me to the edge of the reviewing stand looking out of the Square of Victory here in the heart of Mara, and from the assembled masses a great cheer went up. I raised a hand to acknowledge it, Alexander moving forward to stand beside me, but the noise of the crowd only redoubled at seeing both the master of their homeland and his near-mythical forebearer in the same place. I took it as a good omen for the new year, Almighty willing, and smiled as I continued to hold my hand aloft, waving in the practiced fortitude of the royal. It was an attribute I had never dreamed I would need to assume upon being cast here into the distant past. What I assumed and what were necessary were two entirely separate things, though- the people needed a symbol, and I was perhaps a symbol even more than the greatest Churchill, the most stalwart Stalin, the most tenacious Roosevelt to these people. Immortality did tend to lend a mere mortal some glamour which no being subject to the rigors of age could call upon.

The cheering went on for some time, in waves, a cacophony almost deafening even here high above the crowd. It could scarcely be otherwise, really- here in the heart of the Imperium, humanity was gathered in a density that mankind had yet to see in all of recorded history. Thousands had flocked into the capital from all along the length of the Danube, and even farther afield. From the steppes of the east, from the hot Mediterranean coasts, from the north of Germany across the Erzgebirge. There were even representatives here from as far afield as Thebes on the shores of the Nile, and the distant lands of Virginia beyond the Atlantic. None shared this reviewing stand, of course; the Blackguard would have had kittens if I had even suggested such an idea. But they were here, nonetheless, stakeholders in humanity here for a spectacle designed to both awe them and the commonfolk that clustered upon the pavements and hung from the balconies of those tenements lucky enough to face the great plaza.

With the rumble of the first drums coming down the Sunrise Causeway, the chaos of the crowd died away to a low murmur. Marans were by nature a boisterous people, but almost unfailingly patriotic. Indeed, like the Legions of Rome of old (or new?) some of our best recruits could be found in the urbs and blocks of the city of cities, for they as no other peoples across the face of all Europe and the world could appreciate fully the innovation and prosperity that had been brought at my hand- and the hands of my progeny. Not quiet exactly, not by any means, but respectful. Soon could be heard, even over the remaining noise of the crowd, the tattoo of hundreds of boots on concrete and cobble, and the parade began in earnest.

Next to me the Emperor of Mankind placed his hand over his heart, in the clenched-fist salute of the Imperium, and I mirrored his action a breath later. Formally I held no military rank, currently, but as the leader of countless campaigns over the decades and the first Supreme Commander the Imperial Armies had ever possessed, my informal authority extended higher even than the Lord-Commanders who commanded entire theaters and Great Companies upon foreign soil. Down the avenue I peered, eyes shaded against the vague and indifferent January light, diffused through a pall of overcast into gray whitewash. This might all be a production designed to cheer the masses, but that didn't mean the first sight of the lockstep marching legions in black and white didn't send shivers down my spine.

Here and there Lawkeepers stood, batons at the ready, holding back the press of a crowd that here and there shuffled forward, eager to be the first to see the tapestry of warriors and military men laid out for this occasion. I did not envy them their duties- aside from providing security here, the Maran command would be stretched thin today, keeping tabs on the flood of recent visitors and the criminals come to fleece them. An orderly society did not mean one without transgressions against the law, simply one better at deterring those transgressions and thus keeping down their volume. As the slap of boots echoed towards me, I smiled slightly to myself, heart stirring at the majesty of the spectacle that apparated here in the center of the Imperium. My Imperium.

They came on in their thousands, striding companies of men in glimmering dress fatigues. Trousers of sensible cotton and duckcloth tucked into boots burnished mirror-bright, breastplates wrought with the symbols of their units and their country adorning broad chests and figures held erect with pride. Standards fluttered in the light winter breeze that swept Czechia now, the Great Anchor resplendent white on a field of black, individual company motifs and honors born aloft on the great pennants of cloth. Only a few now marched in the plate mail that was more familiar to me from the days of my service in the field, men bearing the tall tower shields and swords of the Line, pikemen with upraised halberds. More tramped along bearing only their cuirasses and peaked helmets, gorgets and the metal plates of elbow and knee which provided protection in an unanticipated melee. Shortswords hung almost as afterthoughts from scabbard, bayoneted rifles on shoulders speaking eloquently to the lethal promise of warfare few upon the earth could even comprehend, let alone war against.

Such was the power of progress. And, moreover, the power of organization. Even if I had been a dotard, an ignorant fool barely capable of forging bloomery steel and sponge-iron, a washout from my academic career... still I thought, to myself, that the Imperium's banner would have waved over a continent. For the ideas of organization, of standardization, of regulation and industrialization that I had brought from the future, they were beyond revolutionary in the years of this distant past. Where tribal chieftains saw instance and coincidence, I saw pattern and promise. It had been before I had tempered the first Maran steel blade in the windforges above Kniepper that my path to power was assured, the simple structures and strictures I had enacted upon the people of a no-account town in the shadow of the Erzgebirge that had coursed her rise to strength and dominion over a planet.

A planet. As the months and years had passed, I grew more sure with each report that the Imperium reigned supreme. America. Africa. Asia. Europe. There were polities that might stand against us, yes; others influenced by men of the future, or so I was sure they must be, men of my future. I had not been alone upon being cast into this prehistory and antiquity from the days which I thought of so seldom now. As the soldiers streamed by below, horse-towed artillery and cavaliers joining the marching ranks of warriors, I reflected on those states. They were few now, many divided. Others simply limited in their ambition, or reticent to seize the reigns of control like I had done. The Priest King of Scythia, now presumed dead at the hands of his heir, and his heir struggling to hold back the Wain-Riders of the north. Norsca, Connor Monroe a valuable ally, but his ambitions tempered by both love and the depths of the ocean which surrounded his people's adopted homeland. Ego, and whatever presence commanded her, riven and divided by a religion complex and foolish, a creation obviously of a man of my own time given to religious schism and divided by an upstart warlord who the League thought was another Deceiver.

My reverie was interrupted for a moment as the sun, such as it was, was blotted out. I looked up, Vladimir wheeling his chair closer to the edge of the reviewing stand, and together we gazed on the majesty of the Graf Zeppelin. The scientists and engineers had been baffled when I christened her with such a moniker, but those few in my employ who had read the Annals of the Ages had smiled and nodded. He may receive no credit for his creation in this life- Master Edmund Tarvin had that distinction- but the zeppelin it would remain in my mind, and indeed in all likelihood, that of history. We had thought, or rather, I had thought, to seek to supply the burgeoning airship fleet with helium from the few natural gas wells being drilled in Poland. But logistics were not an ally in this area, whereas hydrogen could be sourced across much of the Imperium in quantities sufficient to keep such craft aloft.

They were a boondoggle, really, a propaganda piece more than an effective weapon of war. The dirigible designed for warfare in the Great War was meant to bombard densely packed targets like cities, and traverse immense distances swiftly for the transport of personnel. We lacked both the large scale gas engines to move them at great speed, and the enemies who might have cities worthy of bombing. Still, their value as both observation platforms and to intimidate a foe were prodigious. Immune to anything an enemy might choose to shoot against them, flying too high for even ballistae to have a hope of piercing their hides, the otherworldly craft had scattered entire barbarian hosts when deployed, and were of excellent use when observing contested sea-lanes for marauding pirates or brigands.

Otherworldly? My gaze swept over the neatly serried lines of soldiers, infantry which would not have looked out of place in the 18th century of my home timeline in their sable greatcoats and with their gleaming ranks of bayonets. Yes, we were otherworldly, I was otherworldly. And because of that other world from which I hailed, the Imperium now stood bestride a world of her own forging.
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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Ralnis
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Ralnis » Sun Jan 14, 2018 8:11 pm

Chapter 6: Centennial Festives and Knowing Neighbors,
City-State of P'kunk,
January 1, 2900BC


P'kunk, the City of Voodoo and the Paradise on the Crest. It had been three years since Bob led the Inocrypto beyond the Serengeti and the reach of the Imperium. It was a long 15 years working for the Imperial Eyes and doing the things he did. He regret what he did and working for the autocrat. He attended the Brittany Uprising, fought on both sides of the Ego Civil War and through down Christianity as it served as a weapon by the Imperium to wipe out primitive tribes and sell their people a gilded cage. To Bob, the Imperium was the largest cult in humanity, not as violent as the other Immortal-driven nations, but more dangerous.

Even with all that Bob disdain his paymasters and the Hegemon, he had to thank him. It was the Imperium that set up his people, made him act his "final heist", learned the abilities of an Immortal, and turn away from autocracy and absolute power. For him, P'kunk will be the capital for a nation that will serve as one of, if not the only, example of republicanism and democracy in Africa and the world. This to him was the only way to have peace as a state and with Voodoo serving as the guiding light to reform and connect the nomadic tribes of Tanzania and the Nubians who are in the outposts that settled around Lake Victoria.

Bob got out of bed as he dreamed of everything he had to go through, it was painful to remember the past. For him, he gave his life to Bondye to be his Emissary and the Inocrypto's Executive to P'kunk and maintain the daily grind as being an immortal leader of a newly created city-state. He knew that he would have his work cut out for him but this was nothing he had expected. He had done what he could to make the law and government but of course those need improvements, not to mention the request the Upper Council wishes for him to approve or veto such as infrastructure, tax code updates, and of course tribal alchemists wanting to craft gunpowder.

He wanted to get back in bed but a certain heavy knock on the door that made him sigh.

" Who is it?" He said to the door.

" Who do you think it is?" The door bellowed.

" Bittertooth please not today, can you handle the meetings?" Bob said as he tried to cover himself in the sheets.

" Don't tell me you forgot about the festival?" Bittertooth questioned.

Bob looked at the door for a second and threw the sheets off and flipped through the vellum calendar. It was based of the Julian calendar since that was the one that was the most accurate that he could come up with ever since he managed to accurately know the year he was trapped in. If anything, he had the Somalians to thank for domesticating the Ship of the Desert. He grabbed his glasses off the table and adjust his sight to read the Un-hai Script as it started to translate to English.

" Oh damn it!" He yelled at the realization," it's the centennial festival."

" Not just that, our neighbors will be coming and we need help setting up for the trial." Bittertooth responded.

It took a while for him to get his clothing on and get his gris-gris around his neck. He opened the door with him breathing a bit. The former Imperial looked good for himself as Bob saw that he was getting lighter and gray 15 years ago.

" You know I envy you Uluhuk." Bittertooth half-smiled.

" Why, you at least have the blessing of still looking strong and gray. I have to make sure the people of the world know of Bondye and must live on without time effecting me." Bob said chuckling.

Bittertooth shrugged," that maybe true, but don't forget that your also a man despite being the Emissary for Bondye."

Bob nodded as they walked out of the Executive's hall. The people were gathering to the temple center to do community prayer and worship. Bob and Bittertooth walked in as Bittertooth sat with his wife and 15 year old girl. They prayed as Bob kept his head down as he heard the creation stories that he had told the other Witch-Priest that attend to keeping the faith and discussing such matters of the spirit. After prayer and ritual, the Witch-Priest had wish for their Emissary to say a few words for their Centennial Festival.

Bob walked up to the stone podium and he gave a deep breath before he spoke.

" It has been three years since we have made our city. We have came far from the gilded chains of the Imperium and beyond the Serengeti to this city. We have faced death, starvation, and the loss of resources. However we rose above the challenge and Bondye has blessed us with good land for our camels and animal, have been able to craft arts and our family tapestries, and maintained our weapons against those test our strength.

Now we live at the start of the new century, our farms are plentiful and our industry is starting to bloom with the making of iron and bronze. This is time for celebration and the start of a new tradition in honor of our travel companions from the Horn. It will be a test of speed and skill of the bow for our young riders, the glory of riding and the winner will be given a boon from myself and to eat alongside the other riders who skill is ever tested against those who wish to plunder our city.

It will also show the glory of the Inocrypto to our more peaceful neighbors that we've invited and the Nubians who we trade with. So for everyone, be on your best behavior and remember common law is for everyone that walks through our walls. Now let us end in prayer for the Creator God to bless this celebration and send his Loa to watch the safety of our nomadic neighbors."

Bob led ending prayer and the tribe left the large temple to prepare for the festival. Food and goods were being brought from outlaying farms and artisans who forged in the collective bloomeries and jewelers that forged iron and bronze gris-gris with gems that were commonly found around Africa in spades. The bank and hospital were in full force with guards making sure that the tribes and Nubians coming to visit as they didn't trust outsiders so much and running security detail when doing community events was hard because they had to take note of the potential braves that could try their hand.

All tribes and Nubians had to get prior noticed to be entered during the events and relinquish their weapons while keeping a pass with them at all times. Tribal delegation or Nubian outpost leaders had diplomatic immunity to all but the most heinous of crimes as that's common law for all man. Camels and people were painted in intrigue designs as they dressed in colorful robes and carried their family tapestry on the backs of their camels.

The visitors saw the rumored one humped beasts that can travel long than any beast that they hunted in the plains and steppes of Tanzania. Many chieftains brought gifts to the Emissary of the Inocrypto that were of good meat and some jewelry made of bone that they crafted. Bob and Bittertooth reciprocated the gifts in return as a sign of friendship. The Nubians gave customary bows and gifts of bronze swords from the leaders to signify warrior spirit.

Bob gave back iron spears though the Nubians wanted their crossbows but Bittertooth refused it, knowing that Nubia was close to Egypt and they were roped into the Imperial sphere of influence. Besides they less the Imperials knew about them, the better and Bob secretly didn't want a stronger Nubia as long their outposts are around Lake Victoria. Still, they honored the Voodooists as they respected the martial powerss.

Bob and Bittertooth knew that the Nubian leaders in the outpost would get bold one of these days if they see profit but knowing that their forces are centered around raiding around the Nile and fighting Thebes, they can't spare the manpower. Bob knew this as the Nubians weren't exerting as much influence as they did from trading in the Indian Sea and around the Arabian Peninsula. They only gathered resources and those that he made secret contact with had give him the notion that the outpost were expensive to travel down the Nile to gather the mineral wealth and good meat.

They also are more decentralized and the outposts at on more or less their own as long they pay tribute to those up north in the Nile. These crucial pieces of information gave Bob a sense of comfort and fueled his spark of ambition. It's a reason why he invited the leaders of tribes and Nubians, to give influence and start getting them to think of joining the Inocrypto or become allied with one another that can lead to statehood.

One chieftain brought his family and was truly infatuated about the camels and Bob offered to take his family on a tour. Bob knew the chieftain well enough that he would be delighted to take the Emissary up on his offer. Bob and Bittertooth's wife got on their camels with an armed escort as they took them around to the trial area, it was here the chieftain asked questions about the camels and the Inocrypto, mostly since he's tribe was the first to get a trade deal after the failed raid from their rivals, the Agutu.

The Agutu were among those who are known as Ash Stalkers, known for cremating their own dead and putting ash on their bodies. It was supposed to be a mystical enhancement to their combat but many of their warriors were killed by bolt fire and a cavalry charge with spears that caused them to flee. The tribe then came with making the first trade deal between P'kunk and her neighbors, which was a year ago. The Agutu still raided the tribe and Bob has noticed that they even tried to raid Inocrypto hunting parties, which only get pushed backed by recurve bows.

At the stop from the finish line which was painted in purple. The chieftain noticed the targets were painted in white, blue, black, and red. The Emissary talked about targets and how their constructed for their archers to hit the center. It improved accuracy and when your riding you need the most concentration one can muster. The chieftain was amazed at the training but he then asked the question.

" I wish for you to marry one of my daughters." He said.

" I'm sorry Enrikuu, my people don't follow the ways of chieftain bloodlines." Bob said.

" What do you mean? You said your tribe value family in high regards." Enrikuu noted.

" Yes, but remember how we did the trade deal? The same rule applies for making an alliance or going to war against numerous tribes like the Ash Stalkers." The Emissary pleaded.

" But they will crush many of us. They will enslave and take my wives if they fight against us. Your people are strong but are only few in number." Enrikuu started to get angry.

Bob held his hands up to try and calm down the rising temper. He knew that the Ash Stalkers can field their warriors in the hundreds as P'kunk could only field fifty at most and its a blow to the tribe as a whole as they could lose one who is knowledgeable in steel, gunpowder, or medicine. However, Bob had put an Untouchable agent in one of the Ash Stalker tribe ever since the Augtu tried to raid them. It was a good idea when he wanted to fight them.

" Enrikuu, bring this up with the Upper Council and I will support you as best I can. I may not have complete say but my influence could be enough to tip the scale of an alliance in your favor and we can see about the Ash Stalkers."

To the chieftain, that was better than nothing and Bob knew that his ideas of federalism were still too foreign in the eyes of absolute control by the chieftain or wise woman. The idea of being unified by something that's not define by family blood is something that Bob would have to introduce to those who want it.

After setting up the targets and riding back to the city as the festives start. Musical instruments like drums and wooden flutes that they learned while in the Imperium to play songs to give praise to their history and strife. There was dancing and flames turned different colors as they threw mixtures in the pit as they amaze the people.

The second part of the festival was the mock battles were the warriors used wooden weapons and used wrestling to pin one another. The more military-minded followers cheered them on and even gambled wages to see who would win. There was a win and a loss that day but Bob honored both young men for their skill.

The final part of the night was when Bob and other more musically inclined sang Circle of Life in Un-Hai. It had the use of the native tribal tongue that Bob had to keep as a foundation for the language. One thing it had was more of a Bantu background but the Bantus didn't exist or won't be down here for another 1900 years. However, the visitors understood the Inocrypto anthem as musical instruments and brass bells were used to help the chorus.

As people clapped, Bob was at least happy to know that his tribe could be a large troupe of entertainers in the Imperium if they would've stayed. Though the Hegemon would've spotted a Disney Movie and Graycloaks would be upon them. Though he would've been able to leverage his service to the Imperium for the Eyes to shelter him, but then he would never been able to leave and forge the Inocrypto. As the festival died down, the visitors went to their camps.

Bob stayed up late talking with the majority leaders of the Upper Council for next month to try and get into regional politics. It was something they have been trying to avoid while building up the city's infrastructure so that could recreate steel and platemail or build barges to get access to the Congo for the major surplus of lumber. Bob knew that people were happy within the walls but they needed more manpower, more recruits, and more help that can make things like building trip hammers and future factories for the sake of industrializing a future republic.

They gave their word that they call a Council vote and invite Erinkuu to the hearing and the Upper Councilors know Erinkuu's tribal tongue in varying degrees. After which Bob prayed to Bondye for insight on the idea of making a pro-Inocrypto stance and have a stronger hand in the region to eventually unify it to form the Republic.

January 2


The second day of the festival was the one everyone was ready for, the trial. Young archers from all over the city got on the war camels that they were allowed to borrow the few war camels that they have and were trained to run a good distance with an archer on their back. The contestants had to wear scale armor and were given a quiver on the saddle and a recurve bow. The people from the city and the visitors gathered around as the young riders had started to get on their camels.

Among them were the daughter of the Vice-Excutive, Bittertooth, who saw his 15 year daughter have trouble getting her camel up as it flapped its lips and made a sound like a rumbling car.

Bob had to come around and try to help but she refused, saying that it would" dishonor the glory of her family". Eventually she got it up but it had a glare of red eye before she managed to calm it down.

Bob had to tell everyone that camel were very smart and were quick to anger unless properly soothed. As the racers got up to the starting line, Bob got on his camel and gave the rules for the race. It was simple as the iron arrows that they have were marked with colors corrisponding to their color on their saddle. They must race down to the finish line pass but also score as many points as they can from being accurate.

In this case, there can be two winners for the trial for one who is the fastest and who is the most accurate. As the sound of trumpets blew as the camels moved with surprising speed as some of the young archers were surprised at the power that the camel can have, washing away any notions that they may had of them being angry and lazy.

Bittertooth's daughter was among those that had a slow start but she was able to hurry along. The camels raced with the speed lower than horses but fast enough to make them test their skill as they shot their arrows and try to hit their mark.

Some hit their mark in varying degrees while others got close or are too wide. Bob looked at speeds of the camels and the riders. The young riders needed more control under saddle.

One of the riders had passed the finish line but he fell off the camel as the speed got to him. Bittertooth's daughter was third place but her arrows were the most true and accurate.

Bob congratulated the riders and announced the winners and they brought great honor to their families. A boon was given onto them and a feast was held in their honor among the other camel archers who defend the city-state and those who use the crossbows who aim at the enemies with amazing proficiency.

As the second day of the festival ended, the tribes and Nubians went away to hunt or to their outposts as the city became only Inocrypto and the city returned to normal.


The tribe made a lot of profit and that could be used for helping the winter and started building a windmill to make trip hammers for making better iron plates and industry.
I'm a damn fool, asking me anything is like asking a brick wall the meaning of life. I don't know anything and will never know anything for that is my meaning on this Earth.
Also, to all who roleplay with me. Please understand that I will break the rules, goddmod, complain, break friendships, and will cause nothing but chaos for everyone. So please, if you see me make an app in your RP, reject it automatically and banned me from ever being in that RP. It will be safe for everyone for I am cancer, and cancer must be isolated and destroyed.

Should anyone wish that I am just seeking attention for pity bullshit, you are right. Therefore please don't send any TGs about asking if this a prank, trolling, or anything of the like. Any rationals you come up for my behavior are all true.

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Pax Nerdvana
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10998
Founded: May 22, 2017
Anarchy

Postby Pax Nerdvana » Mon Jan 15, 2018 6:47 pm

Eddie N. Samuels- Northeastern Australia- 2900
Day 1


I regain consciousness. My vision is fuzzy. I can't see anything, only light. I reach with my right hand towards my other hand. I count. One, two, three, four, five fingers. I count the fingers on my right hand. I still have all five. My name is Eddie Samuels. Good, I know my name. Seeing as I can move both of my hands, I'm going to assume I still have both arms. I use my left hand to check my ears. Both are intact. I check to make sure I still have both legs with my right hand. I feel something on my nose. Something hard. That's right, I wear glasses. I feel..... odd. That's when I realize I'm lying on a hilltop. I can feel grass. My vision gradually becomes clearer. Weird, all I have with me is my glasses.

That's weird. Last I remember I was backpacking on the AT. Where is my gear? My clothes, my knife, my sleeping bag, my pack. Where is it all?! I try to stand up. I immediately fall back to the ground. My vision clears completely, I can now see that I am definitely on a hilltop somewhere. I manage to stand up.

Think, Eddie, think. What do I need to do? I should stay here for the time being and await rescue. I'll look around the area to see if my gear is nearby, but I won't go too far. If you get lost, you should stay where you are, that way it's easier for rescue to find you. I make my way towards a stand of trees.

I get there. I'm used to trees. I look around, I don't see any of my gear. Blast. I had hoped I could find it, or at least some of it. I should find something to use for clothes. I see some big leaves. One has an animal bite. The leaves should be safe to use. I wrap one around my waist to use as a loin cloth. I use some plant fiber to hold it in place. I should make a fire. That'll keep the wolves away.

I find some dry leaves and sticks, and go back out on too the hilltop. I make a teepee out of the sticks, putting the leaves inside of it. I take off my glasses, and angle the lenses towards the sun. There's a hiss and a small puff of smoke. Within in minutes, I have a small fire going. The sun looked like it was almost directly above, which would make it noon, give or take. I decided to stay there for the time being. Rescue should arrive soon.
Last edited by Pax Nerdvana on Wed Jan 17, 2018 7:27 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Damverland
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Posts: 632
Founded: Jun 11, 2016
New York Times Democracy

Postby Damverland » Mon Jan 15, 2018 11:25 pm

David Martin

David awoke to the feel of sharp sun shining on his face. He squinted his eyes and rose up. he looked around, and found himself on top of a tall hill. The sky was clear and blue, with not a cloud in sight. He looked down, seeing - rather inappropriately - that he was naked. He quickly jolted up, looking around at the surrounding environs. Where the hell am I? was all he could think. This wasn't Avery, this wasn't Texas. Too hilly for that.

Looking around, he could see lots of hills - or perhaps mountains - surrounding him. They were covered by various shrubs, bushes, and trees. In the west, there was some sort of lake. Aside from himself, the land looked completely untouched by man. David began making his way south down the hill, across a ridged upheaval in the land. The area where he was walking was completely unpaved, and David kept stepping on all manner of rocks, thorns and branches. His feet were not happy.

"Hello!?!" he cried out, to garner no response. He decided to make his way down to the lake, as he was noticeably thirsty. When he got there, he sipped several big gulps of water from his cupped hands. He sat down, sighing. He began truly wondering where he was. As he realized before, this clearly wasn't Texas. There wasn't anybody anywhere as far as he could tell. There were no cars, no roads, no electric lines, nothing.

It was then that he saw smoke rising from the trees on the other side of the lake. People, he suddenly thought. He got up to his feet. Then, without warning, two men armed with spears jumped down from the hill above him, flanking him on both sides. Suddenly terrified, David rose his hands up.

"Who are you?" the man on his left asked. David made a passing realization that he could understand this man, even though nothing of what he said made sense in English. But right then, he didn't care.

"I-I'm nobody! I'm not here to hurt anyone!" He responded in their language, something that suddenly surprised him. He'd somehow picked up what the man said, and responded in a sentence he understood.

"Zhao, look at him. He's clearly harmless," the man on the right said, pulling his spear back.

"He might be a Tui scout."

"A scout would be better equipped than a naked boy!"

David would speak up, gulping as he did. "Look, I-I don't know where I am... Please, if you could help me..."

The one on the left, now known as Zhao, twisted his mouth. "Okay, we'll help you. We'll give you clothes, possibly some food, and then we bring you to the tribe, for questioning." Zhao loosened up his stance, but still remained guarded. The three would go across the lake, to the place with the rising smoke. This was apparently a small watch camp, as the main tribe was located at the beach. The men gave David some simple rags. In the center was a simple campfire, with a dog roasting on top. David's face turned with disgust, yet he knew he had to eat. Zhao grabbed a sharp stone and roughly sliced a piece off for David, whom reluctantly ate it.

The three continued until they had arrived at the tribe. It was a medium sized place, with two dozen huts clustered together and a simple palisade surrounding the village. Above them was a large hill, and at the top he could vaguely see another, larger hut, with small stone steps leading up to it from the village.

"Up there is where Elder Xu lives. Nobody is allowed up there besides those he allows, so don't go off exploring." David slowly nodded. They would enter the village. People began looking at David curiously. He was not someone they had seen often, or ever, in fact. David was then brought into one of the larger huts, where he sat down.

"Now, first question. Who are you, and what tribe are you from?" Zhao asked, a stern look on his face.

"I... My name is David Martin. I'm not from any tribe... I'm from Texas." Zhao looked back at his partner with obvious confusion on his face, then back to David. "I've never heard of the 'Texas'. You say you aren't from a tribe. I don't believe you."

David didn't want to get killed. "Okay, okay! I'm from a tribe - The, uh, Tribe of Texas. Yes."

Zhao shook his head. "You must be far away from home then, boy. There are no Texas around here. Are you lost?"

That was the first question he could readily answer with all certainty. He nodded. Yes, I'm very lost. I woke up atop of that big hill above the lake and... I don't know how I got here."

Zhao's partner sighed. Zhao, the boy is scared. He's never been here before, and whoever takes care of him is far away from here. We should take him in."

"That could be dangerous, Yi."

"Then we'll ask Elder Xu, when he comes down tomorrow. We need fresh recruits, and 'David' could find himself a good life as a warrior. The Tui aren't relenting."

Zhao sighed once again. "Fine. The boy may stay here for the night. But if Xu refuses him, we are not to see him again."
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Pasong Tirad
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby Pasong Tirad » Tue Jan 16, 2018 1:43 am

Fifteen Years Later


Arsenios kept looking at himself on the one glossy piece of metal (smooth and bright enough to show his face) with the same confusion that he felt when he first saw his reflection after five winters. At first, it was passable. Perhaps he was just fooling himself, and that he actually was aging, but he just couldn't see it. After ten winters, however, he started to notice. He was supposed to be thirty-five. Where was the hereditary hair loss? Where were the wrinkles that came with age? Where were the yearly bouts of cold, why didn't he get the disease that swept through Athínai several years ago? Now, after fifteen winters, he just came to accept something he couldn't understand: he wasn't aging. He noticed this not because of himself, but because of his dog. Beautiful, loyal Manila. Her whole pack was dead. Her pups were dead. Her grandchildren were dead. Her line still lived on in many of the dogs in Athínai, but no other dog was able to live longer than a decade due to disease, injury, or natural entropy. And yet, she has stood strong and resilient by Arsenios' side, having even gone to battle with him once. Fifteen years on and her coat has not lost its shine, her skin hasn't been affected by parasites, her joints haven't weakened from time. She, like Arsenios, was ageless.

The same, however, could not be said of everything else in this world. Kleomaki was first to go. His arm, wounded and amputated after their first battle together, infected him and killed him after a month of pain, but not before he was able to help Arsenios and Nikasios form a union between the cities of Attika that joined them in their fight with the Dekélaíoi: Athínai and Peraiós were to merge with the marriage of Arsenios and Nikasios' sister, while the island of Salamís, Elefsís, and even Dekéleia were to form a union of trade and defense with each other. Trade will be open and nearly unrestricted, and should one city-state call for help, all must answer. Not long after this momentous occasion was finalized with a monument to Athína on the Akrópolis, Lysistrate herself buried a dagger into the back of her husband's neck to save him from the pain. She claims it was on Kleomaki's insistance, but nobody ever really figured out the truth. She was able to live on by herself for a year until the winter came. She, along with the aging Elder Thespis were not able to survive the long and brutal winter were next to go. Neither his age nor her grief could handle it.

A lot of the old guard were either dying or getting older. Even Nikasios, who is nearing forty now, is already getting too old to command. The influx of medicines and doctors from southern Greece (Sympagis, as it was known to Arsenio) was helping - but not enough, and Arsenio understood this. Whatever medicines they have are only delaying the inevitable: this brutal world is for the young. Arsenio couldn't understand how he, of all the people, didn't just die along with the rest of his old friends. He wasn't from here, and annihilation seemed far better than being trapped in a foreign time. Now, it was time for him to redo old ties. Fifteen years of marriage to a great woman, and still they had no children - and it wasn't for lack of trying. Her first two pregnancies ended with miscarriages, and Arsenio was unwilling for there to be a third. He had to end their relationship. It may destroy the union with Peraiós, but he knew he couldn't stay in a relationship like this - she would probably be dead in a decade. He would probably be alive after a century.




The Lófos (the Hill of the Akrópolis) changed greatly. Elder Thespis' old home was expanded to cover most of the Lófos - a third floor as well as several rooms and assembly halls were added - and converted into the main building of government, and everybody just started calling it the Akrópolis. The monthly meetings between the settlements was held there, so it was able to serve as an executive and legislative building. It also served as a judicial court when there were disputes (mostly about trade) between the cities. All the cities chose their own delegates for the Akrópolis in the manner they saw fit (which meant that the kings or city leaders appointed their own representatives to send). Athínai and Peraiós (now a part of Athínai) elected their representatives by lot - those who wished to be delegates would write their names on a smooth piece of rock, and their names would be picked at random. Even Arsenios' home has changed. It's gone from a tiny shack right next to Elder Thespis' sprawling mansion into the size of what his old home in the Philippines used to be. Two stories, several rooms, and a fenced in yard where Manila can roam around and play.

Arsenios was now just sitting at their kitchen table. He just couldn't stop staring at his still-youthful face - not out of narcissism, mind, but out of disbelief. He and Manila weren't aging. That's the only explanation he could think of. How - or even why - he had no idea.

He heard Manila barking. She was in the yard, which meant that his wife was now home. He could hear the gate opening and shutting behind her, and he stood up to open the door for her. She, however, got to the door first, and closed it behind her - slow enough for Manila to get in before it closed, though. For a woman of around thirty to thirty-five years old (Arsenios was never really sure. When they met Nikasios said that she has gone through at least eighteen winters), she looked like she was over forty. Age has not been good to her. Her hands are calloused, her skin is showing wrinkles, and her hair is starting to turn white.

"We need to talk," Arsenios said, not noticing that she wanted to speak as well.

"I'm pregnant."
"If there is no friendship with [the poor] and no sharing of the life of the poor, then there is no authentic commitment to liberation, because love exists only among equals." - Gustavo Gutierrez



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Revlona
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5174
Founded: Jan 23, 2017
Father Knows Best State

Postby Revlona » Tue Jan 16, 2018 6:32 am

Robert Dawn AKA The Dark Lord
The Dark Realm
29 AA

"We're going scouting, expect us back within a couple days" Those where the last words Robert had spoken too his second in command before departing the camp with 3 dozen of his most loyal men and friends, that was 5 years ago.

They set off with enough food to last them maybe 3 weeks of travel, but when the food was close to running out, they had to go too drastic measures, burning villages and stealing food from the locals who really couldn't put up a fight, it was how he earned many of his nicknames, Dressed in his armor many of the villagers took him for a demon, "The Burner", "Night Terror" and "The Dark Lord" is what they called him.

Losing 7 men to diseases and animals along the way

His party made it's way towards the southern edge of the Nile, gathering willing followers along the way to serve as a sort of light infantry/auxiliary, setting up the Fort of Krakcloz (Straights of Mandeb) as there capital.

Over the next 2 years Robert settled down, building up Krakcloz and it's surrounding area, expanding some through bribery and threats, putting too use many of the Technologies he learned in his time in the Imperium he turned Krakcloz into a booming trade port along the Nile, and a Foreboding Fortress to attack.

Though the relative isolation of Roberts realm came to an end 3 years ago when he and his armies expanded rapidly bribing, threatening, and killing to bring massive areas of land under his control, the conquest finally ended when he reached the tip of the African Horn nigh on a year ago.

This last year has seen order in The Dark Realm, where once there was only chaos and war to be found.

Robert has Placed himself on the Throne of this Dark Empire for life, and has no intentions of letting up, taking in a village or two with the promise of better quality of life.

Enacting many reforms and setting up a code of law, the Dark Realm has established itself as a power in the region, With Krakcloz as his capital, the Dark Lords eyes gazes in, not out, for now...
Last edited by Revlona on Tue Jan 16, 2018 9:19 am, edited 5 times in total.
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G-Tech Corporation
P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 53199
Founded: Feb 03, 2010
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby G-Tech Corporation » Tue Jan 16, 2018 12:53 pm

Part 2, Chapter 6: The Caged Bird Sings


January 25th, 100 AG

Through the porticoes of the Ivory Palace I walked, boots scuffing on tiles touched by a thin coverlet of snow, my breath smoking out with each exhalation in a cloud of vapor turned to tiny fragments of ice by the chill of the Central European winter that still held sway over Kniepper and her surroundings. Even though the heavy wooden shutters of the guardhouse were drawn, It still wasn't quite warm enough when I entered, the feeble heat of the charcoal burner in one corner of the room unable to properly drive back the chill due to an open window just above it. The two men on guard stood as I entered, their expressions surprised but businesslike, and one smiled.

"Back again, I know, I know. But I still owe Liam a conclusion to our tournament, and the passes to Teutoburg are closed. The world won't catch fire if I finish one more game of chess."

Neither of the burly men said anything after I finished my self-justification, and my bodyguards were also silent, but I could feel amusement radiating from their persons. Truthfully, it wasn't often that I came here to the Ivory Palace. The more common visitors were doctors, scribes, and interrogators, men who could stand to learn from the prisoners housed within. Even so, I did try to visit as often as I was here in the capitol. After all, but for the whims of fate, it was entirely possible that our roles might have been reversed.

One of the guards stepped forward, and I reached inside my heavy greatcoat, producing a sheaf of documentation. It wasn't exactly necessary, given my face was well known to the Stalwarts on duty here, but I was not one to ask them to deviate from security protocols put in place. A ruler, in my opinion, did well in showing his people how to follow the law, for a man bound by laws who sees another disregard them will find them cheapened in his eyes. And lax guardsmen here at the Ivory Palace could lead to danger for all of the Imperium, indeed, for the entire world.

The soldiers dutifully took down my identification, recording the tattooed number "000000001" on my wrist and comparing it to the idents I presented, before handing back the papers. I waited patiently as the process was repeated for the two Blackguards with me, gazing out of the open window on the windswept courtyard of the entryway into the dull light of the snowstorm while warming my hands on their diffident brazier. After a few more moments one of the soldiers spoke, his voice thickly accented Common hailing from the slopes of the Ionian Sea to my ears. A newer recruit, then.

"Pass on, Lord Hegemon."

A knock on the door of heavy steel, a rhythmic pattern, and a slit opened. Gray eyes peered through at the guard for a moment, and he nodded, then the slit closed again. I stepped forward as the grinding of gears and tumblers was faintly audible through the thick metal, and then the passageway was unbarred. Gloriously decadent heat flooded out of the interior space, along with golden light that made me think achingly of home, and four other Stalwarts bearing the white cloaks of their positions appraised myself and my party as the door opened. They relaxed immediately upon perceiving my face, and through the door we passed, one of the wardens of this luxurious prison closing the door behind us again.

I inclined to one of the soldiers, whose blonde hair was pulled back in a warrior's interwoven braids of the northern tribes.

"Esmund. Good to see you. I'm just here to see Liam, none of the others today. I hear Tolmund has been released?"

The northman nodded, slightly Germanic facial tattoos showing from beneath the neck of his mail coif.

"Master Dorval diagnosed him with kidney failure- hereditary, not dietary. Not a Deciever, though quite mad. He was moved to Mercy Major a week ago, though the physicians don't think he will live out the month. A rough way to go."

It was. Tolmund had been here for a decade and more, picked up in central Anatolia by a suspicious Outlooker. I had never been able to tell if his ravings were simply an act to throw off suspicion, or the speaking of an actual madman. At any rate, he had had all the hallmarks of a man from my own time. Oddly hale and not touched by any of the childhood diseases that marked so much of the primitive world, no known backstory or national origin, an uncommonly good grasp of the local languages. His incarceration here in the Ivory Palace had not been unpleasant for the staff, hearing his wild nonsense stories about gods and kings whose names matched no known history books; but he was not an Immortal. An unfortunate side effect of judicious prudence about such matters.

"Ah, a pity. We'll miss his fireside tales. But he will die a clean soul in the end, God willing."

Down the hallways I walked, shedding my coat in one of the closets set aside for that purpose, before we came to the room labeled "06". Its rich oak door smelled of fresh lacquer, and her brass doorknob was newly replaced for it gleamed merrily in the light streaming down from the overhead bulbs. I motioned the Blackguards to wait outside, and then plastered a smile across my face before entering the room beyond.

It was spartan, really, but a doorbell jingled as I stepped through the doorway appraising the occupant that they had a visitor. I glanced through the heavy glass and there was Liam, sitting in his chair and looking back at me. A grin broke across his features as he realized who had come to speak with him, and he leapt up almost immediately, shuffling over in his leg shackles to retrieve a gameboard from a table on one side of his room.

"Viktor! I was hoping you would stop by, being in town for the festivities and all. Knight took queen on your last move, wasn't that it?"

I sat down in a chair facing the glass as the other Immortal set about arranging the chess pieces on the board he had set down on the table between us, separated as we were by the heavy wall of clear glass and a small speaking tube. His fingers deftly returned the black and white carved items to their previous positions, and I nodded at length.

"Yes, you're quite right Liam. You know, you really ought to take more care of your queen- she always loves to get herself into situations where she can't be extricated, even though she tends to be a real menace about it."

The cleanly-shaven blue-green eyed man through the glass glanced up, and his smile diminished for a moment, before re-asserting itself.

"Yes, well, Gerald isn't quite as good at trapping her as you are. He is still learning, really, and I'm pretty good at keeping her alive. She alone has won me five games since we last spoke against the staff, nearly by herself at least, though Maria is really improving her static defense and shutting down my Queen's Gambit. If you stopped by more often, perhaps I would be more used to playing against a skilled foe."

I smiled again, but this time it felt more forced. "Apologies. There is unrest in the Confederacy, and supervising operations along the Anatolian coast is easier from Byzantium than here. It is a big world to manage, and even with how far we have come it has not grown much smaller."

"At any rate, Master Balimund says that his work on the new grenade launchers is going excellently on account of your advice. I'm partially here to thank you, partially here because I still owe you another drubbing on the board. Maria has talked to you about the excursions?"

Behind the glass the prisoner's eyes flashed with fire, and he rose, chess forgotten for the moment, pacing slightly in the large room that was his cell.

"She did! It would be quite something, Viktor, to see this world you have built. Or at least a part of it. Germany perhaps? The dam at Karlsburg? I want more than anything to see the forests and the weather, to feel the rain on my face. Or..." He turned back toward me, his voice perhaps subconsciously lowering, and he came close to the glass while speaking another idea.

"Yknow, if would be nice to have Valerie in here again. She was lively, and no mistake. I would give up an excursion for that, I would."

It troubled me at times, times of human weakness, seeing what became of men who lived in cages. I had put him here, the man who had once been an adviser to a fierce and wild people. Or, rather, my grandson had. The man who had translated the language of the Powhatan people of Virgnia for Vladimir's expedition had now been a guest here in the Ivory Palace for almost fifteen years. Not a day did he age, trammeled in his cage for the good of humanity. His desires had grown more base over the years perhaps, but they were, to my mind, preferable to the overwhelming despair that had previously been his lot. He educated the scholars of the Imperium, and lived a more comfortable life than the best part of any men in the world, at the expense of his liberty.

I nodded slowly, my acting good enough to conceal my revulsion at the principle. The courtesan's report from her last visit had not been reading I ever wanted to revisit, and I immediately knew I couldn't ask her to do that again. But there were other women of the night within the confines of Kniepper and Mara that could be found, and their payment would be sufficient for what he asked. It was a filthy business that was formally illegal, but human nature was human nature, unfortunately.

"I'll see what I can do, Liam. For now, though, I believe it was your turn?"

The man out of time calmed down after a bit more pacing, and seated himself, a hand going to one of the black pawns as our game continued. One day, perhaps, he would be granted the release of death. But for now I was happy to know he was here, out of circulation, where he could do no more harm to the world in his ambition. The Ivory Palace, the place immortals went to live their timeless lives.
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Labstoska
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Founded: Apr 22, 2016
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Labstoska » Wed Jan 17, 2018 12:28 pm

The city of statues
The city of statues, capital of the divine Khanate and the greatest city across all of the yellow river. If one were too look at it from the skies they could see it sprawling out across the landscape as if some child had scattered a box full of their toys across a room. If one were to get a closer look at the city they would see that nearly every single avenue and street lead into some kind of monument or museum praising the past glories of the Divine Khanate or the Divine Khan himself. It was from this excessive construction of monuments that gave the city it's name for it had been originally been called the city of victory however the name had caught on and the change of name was approved by most within the government.

At the heart of this city there is the centre of the Divine Khanate, the white fort, a huge pyramid like structure constructed out of marble where nearly the entire bureaucracy for the Divine Khanate were housed , of course the entire building was not constructed out of marble as you delved deeper into the fort passing by the accountants and minor officials you would see the walls turn from a white marble to stone for it was in these corridors that the more important aspects of the government were at work, the colonial governors and the military high command were but few of those who operated in these corridors. Even the secretive secret police service known as the Zealous resided down here to go about there duty of purging all those who would pose a threat to the state. Finally as you reached the very epicentre of this building, past countless security checks and menacing looks from the guards you would finally arrive at the two large iron doors that block the entrance to the office of the Divine Khan himself.

Oddly enough the office of the Divine Khan was rather modest considering the huge monuments and statues outside that were dedicated to him. The office itself had a wooden floor and stone walls, hanging from the roof was a candelabra which cast light down upon the room, near the back of the room there was a wooden desk piled with paperwork and behind said desk was a large roaring fire. It was in this office where the Divine Khan currently resided. He was currently looking down upon a large map that showed the entirety of the inhabited portions of the yellow river, scattered across this map were multiple clay figures of soldiers and some of boats, some of these figures had been coloured pink others had been coloured green. These two colours were meant to represent both the Divine Khanate and the kingdom of Jadespear... Jadespear A name well known within the Khanate and despised by very citizen within it, to them Jadespear was the incarnation of all things unorthodox, he was despised equally if not more so by John Collins himself but not for the same reason that his people did. To John Jadespear was his equal in nearly every regard, every raid he sent was countered every plot to kill this elusive man were uncovered, by this point John was beginning to doubt if Jadespear was even real, it made sense that this eternal foe his was secretly a council of elders within the kingdom of Jadespear, this was the only possible way that one man could ever compare to the Divine Khan himself.

John smiled to himself now as he realised that he had one advantage that this Jadespear fellow could never possibley attain which was that he was from the future, he knew technology that Jadespear would probably get on his knees and worship, this b=fact was soon going to lead to the Divine Khanate's utter domination over he Yangtze river. The large iron door that bolcked the enterane to John's office now suddenly rang with the sound of knoking, images of enemy soldiers storming through the door and seizing him suddenly flashed through his mind but this was only the paranoia that had begun to afflict John coming into play, he had long ago learned to ingnore these images of fear so he called out for this person to enter. The man who entered was clearly from the navy his uniform was indicative of that and if he was reporting on what John believed that he was reporting on, the domination of the Yangtze would come very soon.

"Greeting Divine Khan, the onagers that you designed are finally complete and have been attached to some of our ships" stuttered the naval officer, it was evident that he was terrified, no doubt tales of what the Khan did to the messagers who displeased him luckily for this man the message that he conveyed was not one that displeased John in the slightest.

"This is excellent news, the destruction of the insidious kingdom of Jadespear may soon be in sight with these new onagers , now go down to the naval high command and tell admiral Arghun to launch an all out attack on the Kingdom of Jadespear, tell him to use the strategy we disscused two weeks ago." was John's immediate reply

"Of course sir" and with that the young man strolled out of the office thankful that he hadn't suffered the Khan's wrath. Meanwhile John was smiling like a maniac knowing that soon very soon the kingdom of Jadespear was going to be utterly destroyed.

The yellow river
Two weeks after the command was issued a long line of 50 military ships were slowly and gracefully sailing down the yellow river, 15 of them had large onagers strapped to them while the rest had ranks of soldiers clad in bronze armour. These ships were making their way slowly towards the kingdom of Jadespear and there was no doubt that those within the kingdom knew it for already there had been some small naval engagements with the kingdom's ships however it was no use the onagers of the Khanate were quickly able to disassemble any vessel that dared to stop the naval horde

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Pax Nerdvana
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 10998
Founded: May 22, 2017
Anarchy

Postby Pax Nerdvana » Wed Jan 17, 2018 2:56 pm

Eddie N. Samuels- Australia- 2900 BC- Day 1

I'm sitting next to my little fire. I'm staring at the sky, watching the clouds float by. I'm listening for the sound of a helicopter which would signify rescue is coming. This doesn't really feel like the U.S., though. It feels....different. The trees don't look quite right. Where could I be? If not America, than where else? Maybe Europe? Night's coming on. If going by the sun is right, it's around 5 in the afternoon. Maybe a little earlier, maybe a little later.

I suppose I should try to find something to use for shelter. I don't what kind of wildlife is in the area, so maybe I should climb a tree. I'm not in a jungle, so there shouldn't be any Boa Constrictors or anything. A tree seems like my best bet, because there are probably wolves or similar creatures in the area. I hope I can get a fire going tomorrow. I head over to the stand of trees to start on finding shelter.

I look around at the available trees. I select a tall tree with many branches. It'll do. I break some thick branches off another tree, to lay across the branches in my tree, to make a sleeping platform. Hopefully, they'll hold my weight. The tree looks to be about 50 feet tall. I climb maybe halfway up it with a branch clutched in my teeth. I lay it across the area where I'm planning on sleeping. I repeat the process around twenty times, eventually forming a decent platform that should hold me.

I lie there for what seems like hours, watching the sun go down. I fall asleep shortly, hungry. I wake up sometime in the middle of the night, my stomach growling. I guess I'll have to find food tomorrow. I'm also quite thirsty. I'll have to find water as well, come morning. I fall back asleep, listening to the breeze blowing in the trees, rustling the leaves.
Patriotic centrist American, who is vaguely right leaning. I support the Bill of Rights. I have no loyalty to any party. Expand or die. That's how humanity works. Science fiction is the best genre. The solar system is ours for the taking. I am a male. You can't spell team without "me". I support the troops.
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Damverland
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Posts: 632
Founded: Jun 11, 2016
New York Times Democracy

Postby Damverland » Wed Jan 17, 2018 7:59 pm

David Martin

If there ever was a finer example of a stereotypical, wizened Asian man, Elder Xu would be him. Xu was a man of many winters, wrinkly skin and cloudy brown eyes. He was completely bald, and he had a long, wispy white beard flowing from his chin. He wore simple brown robes, and held a large stick for a walking cane. He was, as David realized quite quickly, the oldest and wisest member of the Doyoi tribe.

Elder Xu had examined David as best as he could. David explained every detail that could be of importance or helpful to the old man, yet even Xu could not make sense of where David was from. His name was an enigma, not a traditional one of the Doyoi, and no one knew at all where he was from. From the details he could gather, David came to realize he was somewhere on the Chinese coast, possibly in the south. Everything was so strange to him, and he began to believe that somehow, he was in the past.

Despite David's rather anomalous nature, Xu found no harm in bringing him into the tribe. He feared that had he refused him, he would've died off in the wilderness, or - worse still - joined the Tui. The Tui were the Doyoi's traditional rivals. While the Doyoi owned the peninsula in which they lived on, the Tui lived north of the peninsula. The details were becoming clearer now; David was indeed in China. Hong Kong, to be exact. Seeing as there were no massive cities anywhere - a well known trait of Hong Kong - it confirmed his suspicions of being a time traveler.

David surprisingly had come to terms with it quite quickly. If this was his life now, thrown somewhere far in the forgotten past, then so be it. From that moment on, he made it his life's goal to make his existence here something monumental.

Elder Xu had enlisted David as a warrior in training. He would train first with sticks, then with the bow. As a new recruit of the Doyoi, a major part of his training would go into hunting. It would teach him stealth and surprise, and would give him ample practice with his future weapons. It'd also give him a nice free meal.

While the Doyoi taught him how to fight and hunt, David would try to teach them some things. The Doyoi had a noticeably large amount of dogs; for every member of the tribe, there were three fully grown mutts. Half were bred for hunting, and the other half were bred for food. David began trying to advise them to have all of them bred for hunting instead of food, and that wasn't just because he found eating dogs gross. Many of the tribe members were skeptical. Thankfully for David, Elder Xu took a liking to him. Despite his mysterious origins, Xu had seen something in David, a potential. This gave David the chance to communicate his ideas to the tribe directly through their leadership.

In addition to his dogly advice, David tried to encourage the Doyoi to pick up agriculture. They had dabbled in minor rice growing, but nothing completely major. They still relied on hunting. David sought to change that. David didn't know the full details of growing rice, but he knew the essential basics, along with what the Doyoi taught him. They began sowing the seeds in the southern portions of the peninsula, close to the large island. Periodic rains would help them grow.

As the weeks went by, David began to look on the long term. Since he arrived here in the past, the Tui had attempted three incursions into Doyoi territory, only to be chased off. he knew they were a threat to both his and the tribe's longevity. He didn't have much information on them yet, but from what he could tell they were as strong, if not weaker than the Doyoi. At least, in terms of numbers. He realized that if his ideas could be brought into fruition, they'd have to be dealt with. So, he began to make plans.
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Ralnis
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Founded: Aug 06, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Ralnis » Thu Jan 18, 2018 7:21 am

Chapter 7, part 1: Innovations and Manpower
City-State of P'kunk,
February-March, 2900BC


Industry was finally beginning to show as the windmills brought forth the use of trip hammers to make better iron plates. Many people were happy as they gave prayer with their own personal faith. The tribe offer their gris-gris and voodoo dolls so that the Witch-Priest used magic and blessed the tribe for their souls to be protected from evil of the Olo-Loa and the Destroyer God. Bob gave direction to the Witch-Priest and said that the rituals and magic were for the soul and spiritual upliftment of the community. Bob and the Witch-Priest prayed for the souls of the community to be safe in their personal journey through life and to keep the Destroyer God from using the Olo-Loa to take their souls or trick them.

For those who have committed sins, they asked for forgiveness and for the Creator God to bless his soul in protection. The voodoo dolls and gris-gris were given back as they went on their day or to put on their personal altars for safekeeping. After that, the delegation from Erinkuu's tribe came as they set up camp near the walls to feel protected underneath the crossbows. One thing that the chieftain saw P'kunk engineers making a wagon with wooden and iron plates nailed on. There was holes that could be used to fight from.

Erinkuu had wondered what such a thing was to be needed as he went into the city and saw the large windmill that was carrying water that was carrying water through plumbing and a couple watermills that went to a trip hammers that were used to refine iron and grain. The chieftain stared as the Inocrypto workers and engineers making sure the hammers were alright and exchanging tempered plates or refined flour for grain or other iron clumps to be hammered into more malleable shapes that can be turned into weapons, tools, and armor.

"Our industry is a bit small still." An engineer came around.

" Oh! I am sorry, it just look very amazing. It smashing things into new things without the hand of man." Enrikuu spoke.

" Their called trip hammers, ran by a water mill to make life for our crafts a bit easier. Though we're still lacking in major resoruces but we have come far for our city." The engineer smiled.

Enrikuu was amazed as the Enocrypto continued working on making sure their small industry was working. As the chieftain continued to walk with his delegation to the Council Building in the center of the city. The Executive and Vice-Executive came to the delegation and greeted them as they bowed to the chieftain. As they went into the building, the delegation saw the Voodoo art and the flag that had a primitive mask on it as was made with a brown coloring as a base and look like a witch doctor mask.

As they walked through had a seen the tapestry of the Emissary as it had the sight of a gear above a figure that was cover in a robe of many colors. It had a cog in its left hand and a heart on its right. This was one of the symbols of Bondye and the Inocrypto as he believe the ingenuity of his people will be able to make the dream he always wanted for his people. His people knew that there were more symbols of Bondye, including the personal Voodoo dolls that they take with them to the temple as the Witch-Priest guides the blessing for their souls and the amulets.

The tapestry hanged below a throne made of brass. It had markings and symbols in Un-Hai that were holy symbols in Voodoo. The chieftain knew this was the Brass Throne of P'kunk, the place where all major decisions were given a second look at as the Council started to come in and take their seats. There were five seats in a semicircle fashion. This was on top of ten seats that were in a larger, similar design. They were empty as the Upper Councilmen and women came in as they stand by their chairs waiting for the Executive.

As Bob sat on the Brass Throne to conduct prayer to Bondye after which he concluded the meeting to start. Bob gave the case for Erinkuu's nomadic tribe to be allied with P'kunk because of the rising threat of Ash Stalkers in the region. Bob had talked to them prior and knew that something could be done to fight the raider tribes and take the region.

The Councilors wanted to hear the plea from Enrikuu about the Ash Stalkers. The chieftain's story went back what seemed centuries as the tribal culture grew in number and taking all the best hunting spots around the region as they chased out the other tribes save a few and his own. Bob did know that Enrikuu had power behind his tribe as it have been fighting the Ask Stalkers before the Inocrypto came and fought back a large raid.

The Councilors were still divided but Bob had chimed in to the Upper Council that there was something to gain from this. He told Erinkuu that his people needed manpower and that the region had resources that kept itself from expanding and personally fighting. The Nubians kept to themselves around Lake Victoria with stories of a man in black armor raiding across their lands and the Egyptians have gotten the pike and horse cavalry.

If anything, the Ash Stalkers will quickly become the least of their worries in years as they get displaced and come to the Nile's source. Erinkuu had a slight moment of disbelief when he said about the Nubians, mostly they left alone and only traded around but this would make the bronze-wielding warriors the greatest force in the land.

Bob at this time called the Council into the idea that he had been wanting to do for a long time, getting the region under Inocrypto control. Erinkuu wondered what would this entail. A Councilman told the Chieftain that his tribe will be allied with the Inocrypto but will be eventually part of it. In exchange the Inocrypto would show Erinkuu and his allied tribes things that they would've never dreamed of and be prosperous under a new, larger family which Bob has called the Mantu Olu.

Erinkuu had thought that this meant some sort of confederation but Bob quickly dismissed the idea. He brought up the idea of a republic, where the common man had the freedom to say and do as they pleased under the common law and light of Bondye's liberty. The idea of sacrificing the tribal identity of their ancestors was something that was difficult to understand or even swallow but Bob told him that the idea of tribes fusing to becoming something like a kingdom was the natural process of states and the Inocrypto were already a republic on its own right.

It took time for deliberations but Bob and the Council had reached an agreement to share land and teach them how farm and hunt better. Erinkuu knew that the Inocrypto will help him as this threat is bigger than the wooden walls can hold but to give up his tribal identity but he knew that the Executive had strange magics and knowledge that came from the god he worshiped and studied from a far away land.

Bob said that he would be a Councilmen and his allies will be held up as part of the Upper Council and will be protected and given the same right as one of the common Inocrypto. It was something that he would have to get use to but for the sake of his people and the defeat of his greatest foe to and bring help his ancestors.

March


The Inocrypto was bolstered with the allies of hundreds of warriors using Atlatl, with the Inocrypto cavalry pulling a strange cart enclosed with spearmen and arbalest protected by cast iron plates. This was a war wagon, an armored transport that was expensive to make at the expense of tools for a couple of months but it was a valuable asset against primitive raids or mass battle formations like what the Ash Stalkers do.

To the Inocrypto, this battle would be a skirmish as they saw massive armies in the tens of thousands but they knew that this was no more important. The war wagon, despite being heavy, was able to carried by two camels as it was defended by both flanks of swordsmen while the cavalry was up and centered. Allied tribal levies outnumbered the trained Inocrypto by a large margin as they did their war dance and prepare their slings, clubs and throwing spears as they came in a trained mob fashion.

The Ash Stalkers tried to ambush the allied formation but Untouchables from one of their tribes tipped them off a night before as Bob's spy network came into play to control the region. The enemy was caught off-guard from their plan but still manage to have an equal amount of warriors in ash-covered skin screamed and charge at the formation. Rocks and spears were the first thing thrown at the cavalry and the exchanging tribes as shields were belted with arrows and spears. The War Wagon moved up as cavalry skirmished and were able to keep the charge back till the war wagon was in a horizontal formation.

The Ash Stalkers try to overrun the swordsmen formation but the crossbows launched their bolts at the charge and decimated them. The surprising attack was enough to make them go back and regroup as Erinkuu's tribe took the advantage and press on their own attack. The war wagon unloaded and the Inocrypto came out and reinforced the charge.

It was a brutal battle, with many warriors injured or dead on both sides but the Ash Stalkers had lost a battle today. It also fostered a sense of cooperation that the bonds between allied tribes and the Inocrypto to form this new idea known as Mantu Olu. Of course this was only the first of many battles over the region, and with this the foster P'kunk's influence over the tribes and make the state become a new thing and the future for Tanzania.
I'm a damn fool, asking me anything is like asking a brick wall the meaning of life. I don't know anything and will never know anything for that is my meaning on this Earth.
Also, to all who roleplay with me. Please understand that I will break the rules, goddmod, complain, break friendships, and will cause nothing but chaos for everyone. So please, if you see me make an app in your RP, reject it automatically and banned me from ever being in that RP. It will be safe for everyone for I am cancer, and cancer must be isolated and destroyed.

Should anyone wish that I am just seeking attention for pity bullshit, you are right. Therefore please don't send any TGs about asking if this a prank, trolling, or anything of the like. Any rationals you come up for my behavior are all true.

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Revlona
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5174
Founded: Jan 23, 2017
Father Knows Best State

Postby Revlona » Thu Jan 18, 2018 8:10 am

Robert
The Dark Realm
29 AA


His Minister of Outside Affairs approached the Dark throne where The Dark Lord sat, eyes closed and thinking over things in his head, a simple gold band resting on his brow. "My Lord, the scouts have returned from the south, they report an odd civilization based around Lake Beginning, they report heavy fighting in the area between this civilization and local raiders."

"Send an envoy to this civilization, inform them of our existence and inform them of the location of our borders, on your way out, send in the Grand Admiral" The Dark Lord said, dismissing the minister.

The Admiral without a fleet shuffled into view, "Admiral, how did the prototypes testing go?" The Dark Lord asked

"Splendid my Lord, the ship performed extremely well under stress and it's speed allowed it to quickly board the "Enemy" vessel" The Grand Admiral said

"Good, a large fleet of these smaller vessels should be extremely beneficial, now how are the cannons coming along?" The Dark Lord asked

"They are coming my lord, we are taking everything we learned in the Imperium and putting it into those, we expect to have fully functional cannon within the year." He said

"Hmm, very good, you are dismissed, inform the Grand Marshall he is needed" The Dark Lord said

The Grand Admiral shuffled out, and a couple minutes later, the Grand Marshall strode in.

"Grand Marshall, Operation Arabia go's well?" The Dark Lord said

"Yes My lord, the Cultist report low numbers of defenders, and the men now only await your presence to begin the attack" He said

"Very well, you are dismissed" He said, watching the man leave

He then rested his head against the back of his throne and closed his eyes.
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G-Tech Corporation
P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 53199
Founded: Feb 03, 2010
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby G-Tech Corporation » Thu Jan 18, 2018 1:09 pm

Part 3, Chapter 6: Concerns of a World


February 19th, 100 AG

It was good to be home. Or rather, I had enjoyed my time in the capitol. When you lived in the field, as I was all too fond of doing, it gave you a better connection to the realities of the world, for certain- but some days it was just nice to take your coat off and not freeze to death, or not bother wearing shoes when parading along a corridor of the seat of power of Europe. My matted woolen socks kept the faint chill at bay easily enough as they padded along the thick luxurious rugs from the East, and as I passed vents in the floor the steady trickle of warm air was happily familiar. Here and there my path took me by servants or guards, here in the Emperor's Chambers, who I did not speak to. I wasn't really in a speaking mood, but I acknowledged their nods and greetings with nods of my own and a smile at times.

As my feet carried me toward Alexander's office, his father's office before him, my mind was a thousand miles away. Literally, in this case, instead of the usual figurative sense. Oh, my brain was still in my skull, but my attentions were far across the oceans that separated land from land upon our dear Mother Earth, in this case contemplating the missive the Emperor had sent to my quarters and for which I had arisen at this early hour to speak with him. It was hard to tell through the curtains and blinds drawn across most of the windows, but it was barely dawn beyond the walls of the White Palace, and yet it seemed my great-great-grandson had much on his plate which he desired council over.

Still, that was just another reason to be grateful for being back here, at the nerve center of the Imperium. When I journeyed abroad it was so easy to get caught up in provincial concerns, fixated on a microcosm of the grand sweep of history that was the Imperial Will. Yes, seeing a new ship design launched was satisfying, hearing the complaints of a religious authority fascinating, riding on the endless plains of the steppes invigorating. But it left one cut off from the world, even with the advances in technology that I had pioneered, and the ambitious soul within me was decadently sated when it could pour over the endless reports and missives from across four continents that poured into the White Palace and the Ministry only a few miles distant.

Information could be a filling meal, indeed, a filling breakfast, lunch, and dinner- if one was so inclined. Some days I almost forgot the hour in the labyrinthine twists and turns of the archives, feasting on a banquet of stories and statistics, comprehending slowly but surely a greater part of the forging of this new existence whose course I had set but now progressed without much of my guiding hand. But today that information was being sought not because I knew about the Imperium, but I could provide guidance on a matter which troubled even a man well-accustomed to the weight of ruling.

I turned right, down another corridor, this one lined with windows that looked out on one of the palatial gardens and lakes where the Emperor would occasionally receive envoys from those states with which we enjoyed more casual relationships. Two men in black stepped forward from alcoves on either side of the chestnut wood hall, but just as swiftly their eyes noted my mien and provenance and they returned to their posts. There were none of the Blackguards who did not know my face, and thus I passed on unchallenged to the tall fir door that barred the entrance to Alexander's office.

A heavy knock twice, and I did not wait for a response before turning the lever of burnished red gold. Several heavy tumblers turned, but today the lock was keyless, and I pushed open the door with but a little effort. There, within the Emperor's office, a library of no small note sat. Books and commentaries were piled high on several desks, one scribe with white hair pouring over a volume bound in emerald-dyed leather chased in silver scrolling- the old man barely looked up before returning to his reading, and I smiled. Archanos was aptly named, a Greek scholar from the south of that land, a citizen of the Imperium for nearly five decades now. His assistance to my progeny had been invaluable in recalling details of note, hidden scraps of information both historical and present that could inform the burden of commanding the Imperial Will.

The chair in the center of the room creaked slightly, turning on a bearing which could stand some petrochemical lubrication, and Alexander smiled up at me as I closed the door behind me. His sea-blue eyes were tired, though they danced with the energy of a fierce intellect, and he rose handily enough despite the fatigue in his person.

"Grandfather, thank you for coming. I know it is yet early, but there is ought that would not wait."

I nodded, and strode toward him, navigating several volumes of books on the floor and moving others off of one of the straight-backed chairs which reclined near the Emperor's desk.

"You look like you haven't slept, Alexander. What troubles your mind so greatly that you should forego rest and repaste?"

His smile touched his face again, more tired this time, though he gestured at a plate which bore the remnants of a breakfast which I had not previously marked.

"I've eaten, thank you very much. But you are not wrong. I am troubled. There is word from the west, from North America."

The Emperor turned around, away from me, and searched through the papers on his desk for a time. Anon he found what he was searching for, and handed me a scrollcase, bound in the obsidian wax cut with fragments of scarlet that I only knew from one source. An eyebrow rose in my head, and I opened the case, curious what the League of Shadows might have to say that had perturbed my grandson so.

It was a long missive. I settled into the chair I had pulled over to read it as Alexander paced and consulted with Archanos about something I didn't catch, my attention rapt for a minute and more. As I concluded the letter I drew a hand over my brow, and then looked up at Vladimir's son, my expression apologetic.

"Forgive me. I did not realize that this might be so serious. Bartholomew is certain of his intelligence, I take it. That is a menace indeed."

"Forget it, grandfather. Yes, I've had corroborating reports from Governor Rasterdan, and men in Ego- it is almost certain that Brightlord Jackson plans to march north, and that means war. War we did not look for, but which we shall be a part of. Indeed, by now any message we send will only arrive in time for the spring campaign season. It is not a plunge I would have taken willingly, but the world does not look for reticence. What is your counsel?"

My counsel? Stay as far away as waging war on the other side of the world as was possible, offhand. But that didn't look to be an option. My brow furrowed in thought, and I drummed my fingers on the edge of the chair as I considered the situation. Ego was diminished since we had first made contact with her, a corpse that a dozen enemies tore at, but a corpse with breath in her still. The Blue Lagoon, or, rather, Lagoai Governate, was a patchwork of recently conquered peoples and disparate factions loosely held together by sword and spear under the eye of the former warlord, Turner Jackson. North America as a whole was a mess of states which we had been loathe to become involved with, but the nominal vassalization of Blue Lagoon had at least given us a dog in that fight instead of standing on the sidelines, and her resources had much accelerated the integration of Virginia.

"You don't suppose Turner would call off the war at the behest of his liege?"

It was a good question. Perhaps, but perhaps not. A man of authority so recently bound by the chains of servitude was just as likely, to my mind, to continue to think himself his own master and defy such commands. That would lead to war on two fronts for the Blue Lagoon, of course; neither I as Hegemon nor Alexander would brook such insolence. But perhaps war would not be the worst either. Ego controlled rich colonies in Iceland and Greenland which could be brought into the fold, giving us a stranglehold on trade in the North Atlantic even greater than that which already existed. Turner's campaign might be just the division of the Morningstar's attention necessary to make such an action feasible without starting a protracted conflict, an opportunity which would be unwise to miss.

My mind was made up, and I nodded to myself as I spoke.

"You must remind Turner that it is Emperors that make war, not governors. His campaign against Ego, though perhaps well conceived, oversteps the bounds of his authority. The Seventh is on maneuvers in Brittany- they could sail for Virginia within a fortnight, weather permitting. Our supply lines can- had better- be able to handle their needs. If they have to march over the Appalachians to bring Turner to heel, well enough. If they have to march north to bring the rule of law to Ego, well enough. Either way, Timothy deserves our support. The Thirteenth are a formidable force, but shouldn't be expected to fight an entire continent by themselves."

The Emperor stood silent, turning my words over in his mind, before sinking back into his plush office chair with a smile.

"That is good sense, grandfather. This crisis is unfolding because of a man's ambition that should be tempered, but we should not tell the people of America that we care not for their liberation from the tyranny of unbelief and false governance. I will send a message to Brest, and prepare a missive for the Brightlord."

I smiled.

"Before you do that, get some sleep. You look like death warmed over. A delay of a few hours won't change the turning of the tides for Scalimar's ships."
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Kelmet
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Posts: 7441
Founded: Dec 07, 2012
New York Times Democracy

Postby Kelmet » Thu Jan 18, 2018 5:22 pm

Connor Monroe
New Valkinheim, Kingdom of Norsca
January 1st, 100 years after arrival


With the new year came a new king, my old friend Magnus my stand in for king and my "father" for the better part of the last fifty decades had succumbed to the effects of age late last year. It was time from me to assume the mantle of king yet again, tho this time I though to make it permanent as the thought of giving up the crown again for another no matter how loyal is one that left a bad taste in my mouth. It wasn't just my pride in this decision but my bride Andraste, a women who despite our completely political marriage I had grown to love and who's sword arm I trusted second to none.

In the weeks leading up to my coronation on new years day individuals of importance from across the Norscan Isles and even a few from the Sami and the Imperium itself had gathered in New Valkinheim. A sight to behold as representatives from every faith, tribesmen from the north, Irish lords and even a few delegates from the nationstate of Ego all wished to usher in my reign. One witch I had such grand plans for. For one day soon Norsca will be a kingdom strong enough and proud enough to rival the Imperium itself, our new Warships were a sure sign of that.

In the remainder of wales were the last remnants of the Brittonic people resisted Norscan rule, my rule. This resistance needed to be crush if the industrialization of our island was to truly take off. Norscan army supported by our navy had been slowly pushing the Brittonic tribes back, but Wales is a densely forested heavily mountain region, were our new gunpowder artillery and warships cannot be used to great effect, breaking down large scale combat into small skirmishes at best. A perfect job for our rangers, units of witch I would send for deployment immediately.

In non-norscan Ireland we have been supporting pro-norscan chiefs and lords against their neutral of hostile rivals, Andraste preferring diplomacy to integrate the Irish people into our homeland. Threw soft power initiatives such as economic deals and a handful of military protection treaty's our influence grew there by the day. My (Mostly Andraste's) dream of a Norscan-Cletic commonwealth could not be complete without the consolidation of ireland.

In the north the Pictish tribes remained the most peaceful of Norscas frontiers with planned assimilation over time threw increasing trade and dependence on Norscan goods and services. Interestingly enough however, more and more reports via my ranger arrived speaking of a particular individual named Ted who it appears single handedly re-organized a tribe just on our borders a few years ago and accepted annexation about five years ago. This news unfortunately did not reach me due to the great many other things I had to deal with but now seeing it I must leave north immediately ans see this Ted person face to face.

Other Holdings such as the Isle of Man and the Faroe islands were now holdings of Ego, a nation witch we had peaceful relationship with the ownership of these lands seemed a distinct possible threat. They seem keen on trading for our knowledge, perhaps we can arrange an exchange.

Letter addressed to Hegemon Viktor of the Imperium.
In English, carried by royal messenger

My friend, I don't really now what drives my hand to write to you now since the last time you and I saw each other was the day of my wedding. Thank you again for coming, now ever time an imperial comes threw my court they want to here how I got the Hegemon to come to my wedding. To be frank V you are the only one thank can truly understand what we are going threw and I miss having someone like that around. I'm sure you have heard of my coronation, my latest one to be more specific and my last. Before it was different V, it was just me so steeping into a puppet master role was easier. But this time I have a queen and stepping into the shadows seems like a near impossibility now. Look, I am rambling with no clear though but we have seen a fair bit together my friend so I wanted to give you the respect you deserve and let you know. Eventually the world will know your not the only immortal leader of a civilization, one day I will join you in your station. I hope this news is not upsetting and courses no problems between us, until I see you again.

Respectfully yours, Connor Monroe
Call me Kel
Captain US Army Intelligence

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Damverland
Diplomat
 
Posts: 632
Founded: Jun 11, 2016
New York Times Democracy

Postby Damverland » Thu Jan 18, 2018 5:34 pm

David Martin

A Duel of Faiths

The chieftain had met and accepted David's challenge, yet the tribe feared for his safety. It was three months now since his arrival, and although he had learned how to use a bow well, how to throw a spear and how to keep nimble on his feet, the Doyoi were still afraid he would lose. They had only known him for just a season, with spring soon to end and the strong heat of summer to come. Yet many in the tribe came to know him well and kind, and he had even befriended those two who, when they met, were cautious of each other. They did not want David to die so soon, so soon from his arrival. And they did not want to be subservient.

David had offered the chieftain of the Tui a challenge, a means to end the conflict between their tribes. He challenged him to a duel in honor of the gods they served. The Doyoi and the Tui worshiped different gods, and David promised that if their gods were the true ones, then they would favor them in the battle. But if their chief fell in battle, then that meant that their gods either favored them not - or worse yet - did not exist at all. It was, essentially, a duel of gods, a challenge to see who was right in the great mystery of the heavens.

But David offered another challenge; if the Tui chieftain fell, then David would take his place as chief of the Tui. When he offered those terms, those Tui that came with their chief at the meeting bellowed out mocking laughs. But their chief did not laugh with his men. Instead, he made a subtle smirk, and accepted that too. His companions were, obviously, shocked.

But the chief then made a demand of David. If he, the chief won, then the Doyoi would give up their sovereignty as a tribe to join the Tui, and demanded their abandonment of their gods. Both sides promised peace between their people afterwards.

At first when they had heard the terms, the Doyoi refused to place their very existence in the trust of dice, and amongst those more skeptical of David, a young green boy. The Tui chief was strong and tall, at least compared to his inferiors - around six foot five. To the Doyoi, he was one of the most fiercest opponents they had ever faced. But David saw this man's weaknesses, and not just physically. He was cocky, arrogant, and overconfident, otherwise he would have never accepted this challenge.

The challenge would be meaningless without the approval of Elder Xu, anyways. But, to the shock of the Doyoi, he approved this duel, and promised to accept the fate of whoever won it. Some of the Doyoi at first thought he had gone senile at last. But Xu was a wise man, else wise why would he be elder of the Doyoi? Some petitioned for him to change his mind, to not risk everything they had built. But his mind was set. The only thing he wished was for the Tui to treat them kindly, if David lost. Slowly, the rest of the tribe gave in to acceptance, but some refused to allow the Doyoi to collapse without resistance, and began to arm themselves.



They met in a clearing in the woods, with at least a quarter of each tribe present. David would arm himself with a spear made of tough wood and tipped with a sharpened stone. Around his shoulder was a bamboo strap that held a leather satchel, with a sling inside and six smooth oval rocks in it. On the other side of the field was the Tui chief. In contrast to David, he had worn tough leather, held a tough bamboo shield, and wielded a sharp bronze sword. He was muscly and had long, braided hair that went halfway down his back. Some of the Doyoi behind him began to turn around. A woman began to weep. He looked at them solemnly, and nodded. Then he turned to his adversary. The Tui behind their leader watched intently, cheering and shouting encouragement, as well as jeers against David. He took a deep breath.

Suddenly it occurred to David. The story. He heard it many times in church. He even had the name. He began to chuckle.

The battle began in a flash, and the chief began to charge at David, sword in hand. David began to scurry to his left, where the chief was unprotected by his shield. He held his spear up, pointed at his enemy. The chief swung his sword at David when he got too close, but all he cut was air. David got behind the chief and tried to stick 'em in the back, but the chief swung around and knocked his spear out of the way. David barely kept it held in his hand. He jumped away from the hulking man as he began to approach. The chief made another charge, shield protecting his face and focused his eyes on David through the slits separating the bamboo. David stood still, breathing calmly. He held his spear over his shoulder, and threw it with all his might.

The chief suddenly made a full stop like a horse would facing a brick wall. He jerked his head out of the way as the spear smashed through his shield, jerking it out of his hand with full force, stumbling back from the force of the spear. Immediately David opened his satchel and grabbed his sling, sliding one of the larger stones in the pouch. The chief now held his sword in both hands. David stepped back, now noticing he was next to the Tui crowd. They jeered and cursed at him from behind, hoping to demoralize him. David ignored them. He began to swing the sling around above his head, watching intently on his foe. The chief held his sword, preparing to deflect his rocks. David ran up several feet and swung. The chief watched the rock as it sailed towards him, and knocked it away with the flat of his blade as it grew close to his face. The sword was dented. David prepared another stone. The chief began advancing now. David threw again, and this time the rock hit, striking the chieftain's chest. He grimaced, and gripped his chest in pain. Now was David's chance.

As he prepared another stone the chief roared in fury, and began a charge. David began walking now, away from the Tui crowd as he span the sling above his head. When the chief was just feet away from David, he jumped out of the way and threw the rock into the back of his neck. It struck his spine, and the chief screamed in pain, gripping the injury with his left hand. Yet he was not immobilized. The chief made yet another charge, this time fully determined to kill this cowardly little boy.

Another stone was prepared. David held his ground as the beast of a man came charging at him, the Tui's only goal in life being to kill him. The sling spun, and then was thrown.

The rock slammed into the chief's throat, shattering his Adam's apple and lodging right into his neck. He slammed into the ground, his sword dropping onto the ground, gripping his throat, gargling and struggling to breathe. He tried to pull it out through the gory opening, to no avail. David shook his head as he watched the man die. He picked up the chief's sword, the man staring up at him with hate. He shoved the blade into his heart, sparing him of a slow and agonizing death. David's own heart was pounding. His fingers tingled. He was breathing rapidly. As he slowly realized the battle was over, he began to calm down.

Then he looked around. On both sides, the crowds stared at him in disbelief. He watched the Tui. Half stared at him, the other half staring at their fallen leader. After what lasted like hours, those that stared at their dead chief began to storm off. But those who watched David continued to do so, at first with shock, but then with acceptance. Then, they bowed.
The Republic of Damverland, a nation based on the Northwest Pacific States

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Duestchstien
Minister
 
Posts: 2643
Founded: Nov 15, 2015
New York Times Democracy

Postby Duestchstien » Thu Jan 18, 2018 8:55 pm

Xue ZhenKang

The light shone in his face, the sun rose above the horizon. Xue sat up. He noticed he was outside, and naked. He got up looked around. The region looked familiar. The the south a massive range of mountains, the Hong Kong Mountains. But there was no city. Nor a city in where he stood. Where had the people gone? Where was he? What had happened while he was asleep? These questions went through his mind as he began to walk aimlessly toward the shore. Perhaps it was a dream, but it felt to real. He continued toward the shore. A small village could be seen up the coast. He began to walk toward it. As he got closer he saw the outlines of a couple of houses and some small boats moored on the river. However the boats weren’t modern or the traditional style Chinese junks.

As Xue neared the village, a band of Shaolin Monks wearing the traditional orange garb met him. They first stared at him in wonder. “Hello, who are you?” Asked a monk. “I am Xue, I come from Shenzhen.”
“You come from the village over their. How is it I’ve never seen you before?”
“Excuse me, little village? Shenzhen is a magnificent city with millions of people and towers that graze the sky.”
“Ney, you must speak of a different city. We have never heard of this city. This is Shenzhen. Perhaps we can invite you to our monastery and clothe you.”
“Of course, thank you.” Xue gave a little bow of thanks.

After walking back to the monastery on the outskirts of the village, Xue was given a straw hat and a pair of pants and shirt. He was fed and he spoke to the monks asking them questions. The more he asked, the more the monks wondered as did Xue. Xue learned he was in the village of Shenzhen, a small fishing village that was on the coast of the Zhujiang River. To the south lay another village on the island Xue believed to be Hong Kong. But as he thought Xue began to piece it together, some how he was in the past. He spent the rest of the day wandering town, using a couple of coins given by the monks to buy a bag, knife, and blanket. That night he went to sleep on the monastery floor as he contemplated his current situation.
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Holy Tedalonia
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 8673
Founded: Nov 14, 2016
Moralistic Democracy

Postby Holy Tedalonia » Fri Jan 19, 2018 9:57 am

Edward “Ted” Tomlinson
January 11th, 100 AG

Waking up sluggishly and getting out from his primitive bed; Edward scratched into the wall a new day on the “calendar” that lay on the wall of his room. He looks at the calendar a second, considering what he would do with his life, after all his plan was to live out in asylum for as long as possible.
He knew the Imperium to be a industrial menace, one that threatens his existence now that he was immortal. He was hoping that the timespan before the now, and Imperium arriving would be long enough to live a somewhat meaningful existence.
Breaking from his deep thought he goes to his work table in his room and picks up his glasses. He didn't necessarily need his glasses, save for looking far distance and seeing fine details on objects or entities. It was also a mental memento of his previous life. After wishing to see his family after 46 years is likely to be impossible, however he still wished hoping to return home. After all, it was the least he could do, and perhaps would lead to some closure.
After getting his clothes and other equipping other gear such as his sword on he heard a rather excited knock on the door. Opening it he found his friend, the chieftains brother specifically, his name was Ruaraidh MacCullach and he was a good man; A warrior too if need be.
Ruaraidh exclaimed excitedly, “the chieftain wants you to come to his house, saying a important guest wants to see you.”
Edward responds cynically raising a brow, “me? Could you clarify?”
He responds giving no real answer to his question, “he said you wouldn't come if you did.”
Damn Aonghus, he knew if I didn't consider it important I wouldn't come, he thought. This was the chieftains often tactic to prevent Edward from skipping out on important and sometimes normal guests. Regardless one has never requested him, let alone actually came to meet him. This was the first.
“Fine, but he owes me a rather big feast,” Edward grumbles as he follows - Ruaraidh along.
When they approach the house Ruaraidh opened the door for him. A rather friendly gesture, which Edward thanked him in turn. His friend stays behind as he approached the table where the chieftain has his diplomacy and feasts. The table held three people, The Chieftain, Aonghus, at the one of the table ends, his wife to the chieftains left side, and a man that Edward wasn't very familiar with to the chieftains right. Taking the seat next to Cairistìona, the chieftains wife, since he enjoyed sitting next to people he knows.
“Chieftain, you requested me?,” Edward asked as he observed the strange man.
The middle aged man wore a strange garb to Edward, and it was clear he was no tribesman. He had blond hair, and he was clearly a fighter. No doubt could take him on in a fight. Regardless of different appearances they had some similarities their eyes to be specific. They both were blue as the sea.
“Ted, I'd like you to meet the King of the Norse,” said Aonghus.
It alarmed Ted. Several thoughts glistened in his mind from being captured by the Imperium to what does he want to do with him. Edwards keeping his cool was the only thing that kept him from dashing out the door. He decided to hear the man out, and perhaps he'll come to a agreeable outcome.
Last edited by Holy Tedalonia on Fri Feb 02, 2018 1:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Otho Tedgustus President Esteemed of Holy Tedalonia.
FACTBOOK
Status based off index:
Tier: 7
Level: 0
Type: 6
A 12 civilization, according to this index.
NS Stats don't matter | warning leader does not represent everyone's attitude | Massive Update in progress, gist is a succession of power is about to happen. Q&A about Holy Tedalonia and more
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
Religion: a Pious Christian (although that doesn't stop me from RPing against good every now and then)
I M P E R I A LR E P U B L I C

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The Orson Empire
Post Czar
 
Posts: 30822
Founded: Mar 20, 2012
Left-wing Utopia

Postby The Orson Empire » Sat Jan 20, 2018 8:13 pm

Seven Miles West of Fortress Omicron
Near the Blue Lagoon-Ego Border


March 8th, 100 AG

The night sky was choked with burning embers and ashes and a red, hellish glow. Screams could be heard in the woods all around as the inferno in the village spread with fury and soldiers of differing flags dueled each other. A major battle raged in the village seemingly between the soldiers of Blue Lagoon and Ego. Tensions had been high between the two nations for years in their cold war; Ego still desired its former province in southwestern Wisconsin to be returned to the rest of her lands, while the people of Blue Lagoon wished to maintain their hard-earned independence. With the Ohio Campaign beginning to subside in the south, Turner had ordered hundreds of soldiers to be returned north to man the borders. Many had interpreted this move as a forerunner to a major invasion of Ego, including Turner's bosses in the Imperium. He had received a lengthy letter from the White Palace, reminding him that only Emperors could make war on others, and that the "Lagoai Governate" as the Imperium called Blue Lagoon, was not authorized to launch any sort of strike against Ego. The Governor-General and the Emperor had interpreted Turner's move correctly, however, but Turner knew he could not risk upsetting his liege.

Undoubtedly, the Imperium had already begun marshaling forces that were prepared to remove Turner from power if he refused to comply. Turner was not a naive man, and saw through the carefully-written prose of the missive. It was a threat, and the Emperor had the power to back up this threat. Jeb may have been a fool and allowed Turner to get away with his shenanigans, but the Imperium was not quick to accept his trickery. Dealing with men who had huge egos and powerful ambitions was a way of life for the Imperial government.

Thus, Turner had to look for alternatives.

The enemy soldiers, wielding the banners of the Night Owl, were reported to have crossed the border from Ego and assaulted a village, quickly overpowering the small force of sentries and setting fire to the town. Runners were sent to the east, where they entered the gates of the nearest fortress. Codenamed "Omicron" by the army, the fortress was one of many along the Blue Lagoon-Ego border, built to allow the army to rapidly respond to any invasion force from Ego. The fortress was square in shape, surrounded by a wooden curtain wall with watchtowers, and consisted of four main streets (arranged in a cross), the central "palace" (which was the nerve center of any fortress), barracks, an armory, training grounds, a storehouse, a sanitarium, stables (for the few horses the military possessed), a workshop, a marketplace, and other buildings. The woods surrounding the fortress had been cleared out and replaced by farms (owned by the military and the Lagoon Company), which supplied the fortress and nearby villages with food. The fortress also had its own water supply, and therefore was capable of self-sufficiency fully prepared for any attack.

A large force of dozens of soldiers sallied out of the west gate to the besieged village, where they were locked in vicious combat with the invaders. Both sides had a tough time maintaining their formations in the inferno, though even as soldiers were caught up in the flames and burned to death, they continued the fight. Sword clashed with sword and pike clashed with pike, while crossbow bolts of various sizes flew threw the air. Civilians unlucky enough to be stuck in the city either died in the inferno or were killed in the crossfire, often shot by fire from a semi-automatic crossbow.

And then, what sounded like a massive explosion rumbled the entire nearby forest, causing even civilians fleeing out of breaches in the village's walls to drop to the ground. Another explosion soon followed, and a wave of men dropped as a cannonball smashed into them at high velocity, causing a spray of blood and gore throughout the streets. The explosions had come from two cannons of Imperial design, brought up from Omicron to the battle in hopes that they could make the difference needed. The army still had not gotten used to gunpowder weapons, despite five years of exposure to them. Imported from the Imperium (though Blue Lagoon manufactories were making progress on their own cannons and firearms), they were the most advanced weapons Turner had in his arsenal. Turner did his best to explain the weapon to his soldiers, stating that it was just an "advanced crossbow" to strike some sort of familiarity with them, even if it wasn't remotely true. Nevertheless, many soldiers outright feared the weapons (with one unit outright refusing to use them), as they had never seen anything with such tremendous power and tremendous noise.

However the Omicron garrison had embraced the cannons with glee, as they finally had a weapon to compete against the bombards and rockets of Ego. They had witnessed the damage Ego's gunpowder bombs had done to their towns and villages, and desired their enemies to have a taste of it as well. With the cannons continuously firing, the enemy force finally broke formation and routed, allowing the soldiers to run them down and massacre them in droves. However, some of the soldiers could barely hear anything now, their hearing muddled by the tremendous crack of the cannons, and wander about in confusion.

Watching the scene atop a nearby hill was a man old of mind but young of body, wearing dark robes and his infamous black mask. His personal horse was tied to a tree nearby. Approaching him from behind was another man dressed in the same garb, an Elite.

"Your men have done well, supervisor," Turner said in English, noticing the man; high-ranking Elites had been required to learn his language and were often taught personally by Turner. This would allow them to communicate without their enemies understanding what they were saying.

"Their training has paid off indeed, governor." Turner almost chuckled at that. Despite his own change in rank twice in the past 15 years, he would always be the governor of Blue Lagoon to these people. "We have sent a powerful message. All of Blue Lagoon will cry for war, and the Imperium will demand it."

"That is, if the Eyes don't root us out first."

"Unlikely governor, as we have ensured the upmost secrecy."

"Yes, but there are still...loose ends I must tie up."

"What loose en-" the supervisor could not even finish his sentence before Turner was upon him with a dagger. Turner drove it deep into the throat of the Elite, watching as he coughed up blood and all of the life drained out of his eyes. Turner covered his mouth so he could not cry out.

"A new war is upon us, but you cannot be apart of it." Turner withdrew the dagger and left the man to bleed out on the forest floor. The same fate was soon to await the supposed soldiers of Ego, who were returning to their base of operations after their false-flag attack. Turner could not risk the Imperium finding out about this operation, or they would have his head. So, the perpetrators had to be killed as well.

Turner recovered the Elite's weapons and everything else in his pouch, and untied his horse from the tree. He would ride off on through the forest towards Tasunke, leaving the village to burn to the ground in the distance. In Tasunke, the final phase of his plan had already begun: a letter, already written out by Turner prior to the battle, was being sent to the Governor-General, which was then to be sent to the Emperor, describing the "vicious attack" Ego had committed in the north, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of people.
Last edited by The Orson Empire on Sat Jan 20, 2018 8:22 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Heterosexual male and from the US of A

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Ralnis
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 22322
Founded: Aug 06, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Ralnis » Sun Jan 21, 2018 11:21 am

Chapter 7, part 2:From the Ashes, Darkness Rises
City-State of P'kunk,
April, 2900BC


Bob was trying to move around the bed as his injuries made it hard for him to do so. With the leather and cotton bedsheets over his body and bandages over the wounds of him and some of his elite men. It was after a few days since the Ash Stalkers had given their surrender to the Upper Council and the Allied Tribes. The Inocrypto praised Bondye and gave prayer for the dead as many of their own had died but not as much the tribals on other side.

The hospital itself was able to heal the noble warriors and Erinkuu, who still saw the wonders of Inocrypto medicine as his people and allies will soon share. The Upper Council had voted to induct the Allied Tribes and the Ash Stalkers as Inocrypto and extended the same rights as they always had. The Upper and Lower Council grew as they had more seated chieftains based on merits of governing. Allied Tribes and Ash Stalkers had their own ways of dissolving their primitive cultures as the Allied Tribes intermarried and chose Erinkuu to be on the Upper Council with other loyal chieftain leaders being part of the Lower Council as Councilmen and gave up their tribal identities for common prosperity.

The Ash Stalkers had those who became loyal after being influence by Untouchable agents or seeing the ingenious might of the Inocrypto. The Ash Stalkers had a trial by combat to see if they will truly join the Inocrypto and be part of this outsider tribe. After several days of trials, the Ash Stalkers became part of the Inocrypto with a man known as Shadi being on the Upper Council and the rest being on the Lower Council.

The original Inocrypto were afraid of having hundreds to thousands of new people who have to be taught to understand new traditions and to understand Bondye message to Remember the Tenants and Ancestor's Sacrifice. Bob assured the people that they will come to understand as the Inocrypto must teach the new people how to be efficient in their ways. Because of this, Bob went to the Upper Council to ask for them to establish what became known as the Apprenticeship and Education Reforms which set up a public school system and trade school importance for STEM programs based on Imperial technology and what they knew.

The Upper Council didn't like to put too much of an emphasis on the practical sciences but would like to also improve the arts and literature should there are those who wish to pursue such subjects. Bob did give note that the Inocrypto culture should be well-rounded, but if or should the Imperium find them then they need to be able to meet them in technology and match the Great Companies with their own professional military.

After deliberation, the Upper Council allowed for a public school system and to have a majority importance on teach the hard and civil sciences so that the new nation, known as Mantu Olu, to have a powerhouse economy to make steel, steam, and guns to defend themselves when it comes to the inventible first contact with the mad man Viktor.

After the meeting, the nation-state of Mantu Olu, which is named as the Spirit Republic in Un-Hai, became the name of the nation that now claimed the region. Bob liked the reforms and it was the right path to get more skill workers and a better general population. The next meeting was to divide the region for farming and industry as the standard was still water and wind power.

The region had fertile river lands and those that were more use thanks to irrigation around the city. The region over all was fertile and had plenty of resources that can build regional industry that was needed to bring prosperity. However this had low-grade iron that can be cast, but still made the people of P'kunk to trade for Nubian bronze. It was one of those things that can't last forever as the idea of a blast furnace would make more common and pure cast iron that making steel would become easier to form.

They needed to expand across Tanzania to see if there's such better-grade iron but they still needed to build blast furnaces with water wheels on the river or lakes. This was needed before they can expand as common prosperity will allow for better troops and more food for urbanization. This was the path of progress that Bob wanted to see but he saw that there's something more that could be tamed.

The mighty elephant was something to be feared in the other timeline but if captured, it would be a great support for the develop of economy and heavy cavalry and logistics. However these are African Bush Elephants, larger and more aggressive than those used by Romans and Indians. This, with Bob's lack of elephant taming, only led to injuries that put him and some of his elite soldiers in the hospital for some time.

It didn't matter to Bob, as he started to formulate a strategy to tame the aggressive elephant as the training of the large beast will hasten the development of the region and nation as a whole. As he was thinking underneath the pain and muscle relaxers, one of his messengers came to him and bowed in his way.

" We have a messenger, he's says as Bob gets out of his bed with guards securing his flanks.

Bob came up to the envoy as he saw the type of region the darker skin messenger came from. He spoke Nubian with an accent that came from the Horn, which Bob and his Inocrypto knew from the very beginning as it was a tribal language that they saw and met with. Bob then hurried the linguist experts and told the envoy to speak the language of his homeland and it was from the Horn in one of the regions closer to the Nile.

"I'm guessing you have been touched by an Immortal, but my question is how fast you got so developed that you could first sends scouts to Kenya then come south beyond the Nile Source?"

The answer was something that confirmed the Executive's and Vice-Executive's questions as the envoy spoke of a Dark Lord that went on a violent warpath to establish the Dark Realm with the Fort of Krakcloz as its capital. Bob had heard from the former rebels in Brittany and France that such a cult came sprang up around and the "disappearance" of the Crusader in North Africa had made more sense.

"Robert Dawn, a crazy immortal playing Saruon with tribes who know no better." Bob said in Un-Hai as he spoke to Bittertooth.

" Not just that, but his "Dark Realm" is near an Imperial naval fleet." Bittertooth said.

Bob shook his head," no, they haven't gone far in the African interior, but if they were to send an explorartor fleet then the Straights would be first to look at. There more dead set on the New World but this does give me some future planning."

Bob turned back from his conversation in Un-Hai to the Enovy in his language.

" Tell Robert Dawn, the Dark Lord that you have stumbled upon the Republic of Mantu Olu and the Inocrypto people. We are the soul inhabitants, as far as we know, of what you call Lake Beginning, but known as Lake Tanganyika in our tongue. You have traveled far and because you are basically a diplomat then you are granted diplomatic immunity to all but our most heinous common law, one that you should know of as your Dark Lord have enforced to you as he is a prophet of his god of justice."

The Executive gets one of the pages to write down the envoy's information down for all things coming and going. After that the page gave the envoy papers.

" These are you diplomatic papers that allows you to have said immunity as long your in our lands. However you must keep said papers on you if you return for diplomatic measures. Now I will treat you to food and rest then you can be sent on your way back with some supplies if you need it."

There was a feast for the diplomat and answered any questions but the morning rose and Bob had sent off the envoy back up north on his trek to the Dark Realm. Bob made note on the map where their secret expeditions to the Horn and the Straights of Mandeb with what would've been Punt is the Dark Realm. The mapmasters and prospectors who made way in that area long ago had saw that the area was sparsely populated with food and resources weren't the best. Still, for Mantu Olu, such a thing could have future benefits for the Inocrypto then they will keep note of it.

Bob was out of the hospital and was ready to continue on with the experiment of taming elephants and training the smart beasts into being a large support for economy and military.
I'm a damn fool, asking me anything is like asking a brick wall the meaning of life. I don't know anything and will never know anything for that is my meaning on this Earth.
Also, to all who roleplay with me. Please understand that I will break the rules, goddmod, complain, break friendships, and will cause nothing but chaos for everyone. So please, if you see me make an app in your RP, reject it automatically and banned me from ever being in that RP. It will be safe for everyone for I am cancer, and cancer must be isolated and destroyed.

Should anyone wish that I am just seeking attention for pity bullshit, you are right. Therefore please don't send any TGs about asking if this a prank, trolling, or anything of the like. Any rationals you come up for my behavior are all true.

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Labstoska
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1296
Founded: Apr 22, 2016
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Labstoska » Sun Jan 21, 2018 11:32 am

The Yangtze river, the Kingdom of Jadespear
Along the Yangtze river 50 ships all sailing in formation, gracefully carved their way through the calm and tranquil waters. At the front of 15 of these ships were odd contraptions with each one of said contraptions holding a stone on the end of a long and very thick piece of wood. To the farmers on the river bank these contraptions were completely alien and therefore of no interest to them however one thing that was of interest to them was the symbol that these boats all had painted on to their sails, the symbol in question was that of a cross in the middle of an elaborately painted circle which in turn was surrounded by depictions of the Yangtze river itself. To the farmers of Jadespear's kingdom this symbol represented a very immediate and lethal danger, the Divine Khanate.

It was aboard one of the larger and more armoured of these ships that Admiral Arghun, the supreme commander of the Khanate's navy, was currently standing looking out across the river and at the panicking farmers upon the river banks. He would also quite frequently stare up at the onager that was taking up quite a large part of his ships, the entire success of the entire invasion would be determined by these contraptions. So far they had proven to be quite effective against Jadespear's ships however doubt still lingered in Arghun's mind, part of this doubt came from the fact that if this operation was to result in failure or if he lost to many men in the campaign there would be no doubt that he would be executed and that history would declare him a traitor to the state. The other part of his fear came from the fact that the Khan was a mad fool and that these contraptions that he had built would collapse at any second, he was not the only one within the Khanate who had this opinion of the Khan however those that did were being quickly and efficiently exterminated by the Zealous , the only thing that was keeping Arghun alive was his high position within the Navy and he suspected that soon even that would not save him from the Zealous. His only forseeable goal was to stay alive for as long as possible and if that meant obeying the khan's orders than he would obey those orders.

"Greetings admiral" Arghun groaned when he heard that shrill voice, it was belonging to Arban, one of the most promising and most loyal captains within the entire navy, exactly the type of person that the Khanate was cultivating with their education programs and extensive propaganda campaigns. All this made Arban easily recognisable as one of the new generation, those who had grown up only knowing the rule of the Khanate and it's 'glorious' Khan.

"What is it captain Arban, make it quick" Was the exasperated response that Arghun gave, he was sick of people like Arban who were always probing the loyalty of their peers just in order to rise up in the ranks and to gain favour in the eyes of the lord.

"Not to disrespect your authority admiral but weren't we commanded to seize the farmland of the Kingdom of Jadespear in order to starve them out and yet here we are sailing right on past it all. You wouldn't disrespect the authority of the Khan would you admiral?"

"Of course not Captain, do you take me for a fool" snarled Arghun "If you were paying any king of attention at the officer's meeting then you would understand that we are meant to wait until we reach an urban centre and take that first before we move on to take the farmland and speaking of Urban centres." The fleet had now arrived at what looked like a small fishing town that appeared to be the hub of this farmland area, within the town there was a small and hastily assembled militia with each person there wearing leather armour and wielding some kind of primitive weapon.

Arban looked down at these people with clear disgust and then proceeded to say "Look at those savages, armed with only wooden sticks, truly makes one wonder how they established this kingdom of theirs. Either way doesn't matter what they do now thanks to the ingenuity of the Khan, let's get started shall we." The ships then all proceeded to surround the small fishing town. The defenders within the town had been anticipating a raid from the Khanate and were prepared for such an event however the large rocks that were now being flung at them from the ships indicated that this was something new.

The rocks flung from the Khanate's onagers were able to crush and disorientate the defending militia and their situation then situation than proceeded to grow worse as the Bronze cladded warriors of the Khanate disembarked from their ships and proceeded to charge against the militia defenders. It was a short bloodbath, the village was quickly occupied and it's people rounded up, next the farmland was quickly taken over. After this short occupation every man and women within this village now was rounded up and were forced to construct defences for the invasion force. All the Khanate had to do now is wait for the response from Jadespear.

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Pasong Tirad
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 7887
Founded: May 31, 2007
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Pasong Tirad » Sun Jan 21, 2018 11:44 am

Érōs


For this month's session of the Boulē, not much was done. Winter is almost over, and everybody is focused on sowing their fields in spring. But, Arsenios was still able to gather enough support to be able to get a motion through that will send out several dozen men - artists, accompanied by armed guards - paid for by the Attikoi treasury to create a map of Attika and the surrounding lands. Most important among those lands were Braurón to the east, Thorikó and its mines at Lávrion to the south, Erythrés to the north, and Mégara to the west. Those four settlements and city-states, Arsenios sees as the end of the Attika region. To take those would mean to unite all Attikoi, and that would mean peace and security. Arsenios has been dreaming of being able to see a mapped-out Greece for years, but now he was actually able to put his agenda down and have it accepted by the Boulē - under the guise of wanting to "spy out" the settlements of cities he wants to be subsumed under the League. As the years went by, Arsenios found it easier and easier to be Archon of the Boulē. There was no election for Arsenios, but all the city-state agreed that he was to be their leader. Arsenios wanted nothing more than to step down for somebody the Boulē would elect - but, almost all of the delegates agreed that the current balance of power was working and, most importantly, it was stable. No one city-state was more powerful (politically, at least) than the other, and an election might shift the balance of power too much to another city-state. Arsenios was working hard to empower institutions rather than men, but with him continuing to be the unelected head of the Boulē was undemocratic, and anathema to what he wanted to accomplish.

But right now, he couldn't think about that. All he could keep his eyes on was to the large house right next to theirs, to Manila waiting patiently for him to return, and to his wife. The moment she told him that she was pregnant, he just up and left for the Boulē. "I have to go," he said. He did have to go, but not for another hour or two, as the delegates were still going about their morning - breakfast or whatever. He had to go home. Right after the Boulē or right before dusk, he still had to go home and he still had to face the inevitable. Might as well be now, he thought.

But, before he could leave, he had one more agenda to tackle: the mines at Lávrion. The delegates, the elites that they are, wanted to mine the metals in there for the League. Arsenios was in agreement, of course, but that would have meant another campaign, this time against the city-state of Thorikó. They have been in conflict with them before, but nothing more than a regular skirmish now and then. They've been able to keep their independence, but only barely, thanks to many concessions of land and the relinquishing of a large part of their fleet (which the Attikoi League then used to extend its own trade fleet). Now, the delegates were once again hungry for blood. The mines at Lávrion, to their knowledge, consisted of silver, iron, and copper, and owning it would mean boosting the economy of the League and providing them with a steady supply of iron and copper with which to equip their armies - they were all still very much living in a world of bronze, and iron was rare to come by.

The delegates from Athínai and Peraiós, still lacking the independence that he wants to see from legislators, are still ever-loyal to whatever decision their leader would like to make. The idea of political patronage was not new to Arsenios - and in this time and in this world, there was nothing wrong with it. He's been in Greece for fifteen winters, he knew the kind of world he was in was a lot more brutal than the world he left. Arsenios' endorsement alone would carry a lot of weight.

Somebody brought up this agenda today. Somebody, to Arsenios mind, must have known that he would have been too distracted. If there really was somebody pulling the strings, they were right. Arsenios didn't really care, so he just said "Okay," and that was that. The League would take over the mines at Lávrion in the coming summer. The drums of war were to be played once again in Attikoi, and Thorikó was the target. Arsenios was too distracted to vote down the motion. He would have to fix that later. Right now, he just wanted to go home. He still had time. The Boulē convened for three days every month, after all.




He was finally able to return home an hour later. It was midday, maybe three or four in the afternoon, and Manila was having her afternoon nap (one of several naps of that day) when Arsenios came home. There was still work to be done with the Boulē, but all of that could wait until tomorrow. His wife was nowhere to be found. "Ifigenia?" he called out, but no answer. No food was waiting to be cooked, no animal waiting to be butchered. The house was empty. So, he decided to save her the trouble of cooking. It was the least he could do after walking out on her that morning. He rustled up one of the hares drying out on the rack outside, skinned it and started boiling it up in a stew. The whole process took the better part of an hour and before he knew it, the sun was getting cold. It wasn't dusk yet, but he could already feel the heat of the sun being negated by the cold winds of the evening.

After a while, he saw Manila just rush outside (what constituted as a door for their home opened outward) and barked excitedly. Ifigenia was home. He was starting to get nervous. They had to talk about it. Not tomorrow, not soon, but now. She walked through the door looking no different than what she looked like that morning. "Where did you go?" he asked.

"Nowhere," she answered.

"Nowhere?"

"I don't know-"

"You don't know-"

"No, I don't know, Arsenios! You were gone for so long, even Manila was getting bored, and, and... you just left! You left after I told you I was pregnant. How am I supposed to react to that? Am I supposed to just stay in my home like the good wife that I am and do as I am told? You didn't want that kind of wife, those were your words! You told me to be independent and-"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Please, Iffy, sit down. We should talk about this."

She was mad - and for good reason, but she wasn't irrational. She knew this was bigger than just him walking out on her (it was a big deal that he did, and she definitely wasn't going to let that go, but they could still talk), so she sat down at their table, right in front of him. Manila's face was on her lap, begging for attention. She was absent-mindedly scratching the back of the dog's neck, but her eyes were fixed on her husband - her faithful, hardworking husband. They sat there in silence for about a minute just staring at each other. It felt like a really long minute. Even Manila got bored of getting her head scratched, and moved to the corner of the room to lie down near the smoldering fireplace. "We haven't... been together in months," Arsenios said, finally breaking the silence.

"I know," Ifigenia answered promptly. "You aren't the father."

"Who is?"

Silence. She didn't look like she was ashamed or embarrassed for having been with another man. "I'm not going to get angry, Iffy, I just want to know."

She was still hesitant.

"In all our years together, I have never raised my voice against you." This was true. He was, by all accounts, a good husband to her - a really great husband, given the amount of independence that Ifigenia has, and given the amount of backlash Arsenios has received on countless occasions because of how "free" Ifigenia was. "I just want to know, Iffy."

"You won't," she finally answered.

"But-"

"No. I trust you, I know that you won't do anything to him if I told you his name, but I don't trust the Athínaíoi, and I most certainly do not trust Nikasios. By Athina, I swear to you that if he learns who this child's father is, we will find another man's corpse outside our home by tomorrow."

It took a while for Arsenios to understand what she's been saying. It's remarkable to him how level-headed and clear-thinking his wife is. He's ten years her senior, but she doesn't look that much older than he does now. Perhaps she's as old as thirty winters, maybe even a little less. Arsenios kept trying to ignore the fact that he fell in love with her when she was just a teenager. He kept rationalizing it in his head. "Mary was fourteen when she gave birth to Christ," was one of his go-to explanations. That, and that the "age of consent" and the like weren't really present in this age Arsenios found himself in. As far as Greek society was concerned, she was a woman the day she started bleeding. "Alright." That was all he said.

"Alright?" she asked. "Alright what?"

"Alright. I respect your decision. For his safety - and, I assume, yours-"

"Ha!"

"- I will not ask who the father of that child is." She has spent fifteen years with him - at least half her life, if he was correct. She would have learned a lot from her modern husband, more than from any other teacher she could have had. "What do we do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I am expected to raise this child as my own and yet the three of us, you, me, your... lover all know that that is not my child. Will that man try to assert his rights as the father? Does he want to... to be involved?"

"Not to my knowledge, no."

"Okay," he said. He got up from his seat and started walking around their relatively spacious living/dining room (which also has the kitchen in the corner). He was frustrated. She knew what this was. "So... do you want me to raise this child as our own?"

Her answer was made without any hesitation: "Yes."

"Okay, but he has to leave."

"What?"

"Leave. He can't stay in Athínai. He can't stay in Attika."

"But-"

"Don't think about what will happen to us when the people find out. Think about what will happen to your child." They were both silent. Ifigenia was just looking at the table, deep in thought. He kept his gaze at Manila, peacefully snoozing in the corner.

"Okay," she said, after a few moments.

"Okay. I'll provide him with whatever he'll need to relocate." He sat down in front of his wife of fifteen years. "I am not aging, Iffy. Neither is Manila. She's as young as she was when I met her, and I'm as young as the day I washed up on the shores outside of Peraiós. We've been together fifteen years. You've aged fifteen years, I haven't." She reached out across their stone table to hold his hands. "I love you, and I will love this child like it was my own if that is what you want."

"Yes, that is what I want."

"Then that's what I'm going to do..." He went quiet. She knew there was a "but" to the end of that sentence, and so she waited as her faithful husband built up the courage to end that sentence. "...but I cannot watch you die after ten or twenty years as the world moves on around me." Tears were streaming across his face now as well. "So, in... ten years or so, Manila and I will be gone. I've seen enough death to know that I do not want to see another." She gripped his hand tight as Manila slept in the corner. The embers in the fireplace were burning out. She still had her husband - for now, at least.
"If there is no friendship with [the poor] and no sharing of the life of the poor, then there is no authentic commitment to liberation, because love exists only among equals." - Gustavo Gutierrez



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Revlona
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5174
Founded: Jan 23, 2017
Father Knows Best State

Postby Revlona » Sun Jan 21, 2018 12:13 pm

Robert
Eastern Yemen
29AA


Bowing his head as he entered the War Tent, one of his Royal Guards said, "My Lord, the envoy you dispatched towards the south has returned and requests and audience"

Looking up from where he sat at the map table he said, "Allow him entry" Before looking down once more and moving one of the carved wooden figurines to a spot on the map.

"My Lord, I have established diplomatic relations with the civilization to the south, they Call themselves the Republic of Mantu Olu, they seem to control the entire area around Lake Beginning, I did as you instructed and informed them of our borders and taught there leader the basic of our customs" The Envoy said after entering

"Good Job, when we are finished here with the Cannibal kings I shall invest funds into establishing a embassy with this Republic, for your work you are Hereby appointed to the rank of Ambassador, make haste south and inform our new neighbors of this, take enough messengers and horses so that we may communicate quickly." The Dark Lord said, dismissing the newly made Ambassador whom left with a smile on his face.

---3 days later---

Standing with his men, The Dark Lord looked terrifying in his Black Armor, wielding his massive Warhammer, he and the 1,2000 soldiers he had called upon stood facing down the smaller army of the 5 Cannibal Kings, this alliance unwashed savages controlled the Eastern parts of Yeman and the most western parts of Oman.

The 700 odd savage warriors armed with a assortment of wood, bone, and bronze weapons stood waiting for the charge, there backs to the sea as the prepared to make there last stand.

Turning his back to the enemy, Robert said to his men, "Men, there facing you are the very ones that kill, rape, and eat those that oppose them, but that is in the past, as those that opposed them where weak, while you are strong." At that, a hardy cheer sounded from his troops, "These savages worship gods that enjoy torture and pain, they worship all that is evil in this world, we shall show them the error of there ways, we shall show them the light and the darkness of JUSTICE" He yelled before turning and charging at the enemy.

His men seconds behind him uttering a terrifying war cry that shook the earth.
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Damverland
Diplomat
 
Posts: 632
Founded: Jun 11, 2016
New York Times Democracy

Postby Damverland » Sun Jan 21, 2018 4:56 pm

David Martin

A month passed after the duel, with major changes to the local people of the tribes. With David's felling of the Tui chieftain, by the laws of gods, men, and basic honor he was now the rightful ruler of the Tui tribe. Yet this began a crisis between the two tribes. David was a member of the Doyoi, and there were many who did not like the fact that he was the Tui chief; one cannot put their attention on two tribes at the same time, after all. After the duel, a large amount of the Tui fled, led by the former chief's highest ranking warriors. They went west. That had left only a hundred and a half Tui, along with two hundred and thirty Doyoi. Already, there were troubles and tensions between the two, who had both mistrusted and hated the others for more than a century.

David hoped to change this, and began a project to mend the anger between the two. First, he encouraged members of both tribes to work alongside those of the opposite tribe, in order to build a sense of trust and kinship between them. He had noted that during the duel with the Tui chief, he had wielded a bronze sword. He had later found out that the Tui had set up a small mine to the north and managed to craft a single sword, though when he had asked around on who forged it, it seemed that they had left with those that went west. But even without them there to forge weapons and teach others how to do so as well, they could still extract copper from the mine. So, he set off several Tui workers to mine there, primarily ones who already had been. But they were not all too happy on doing a Doyoi's bidding, much less a foreigner. Still, if they hadn't packed up and ran off with the others already, they were loyal enough.

Another issue arose; that of the leadership of the Doyoi. Elder Xu was, in effect, the leader of the Doyoi. The title of chief there had not been held by anyone for thirty years ever since the last one died, and over time no one had bothered to ask Xu for the title, as he had always refused them, claiming "they were not the one". Yet, with David's sudden rise to authority, some began to speak of him as the chief. Several times already Doyoi had called him by the name of "chief", with David humbly correcting them each time. Yet, even he began to contemplate the idea of it.

Even with all these problems that began to arise, he was determined to solve them. He already had a vision on his future here, and the future of these tribes. He had sent out envoys to surrounding tribes in order to establish relations with them, and also to assess their strength and relative power. One envoy sent all the way to the Yangtze River. Another order was to invite any metalworkers they could find to the Tui tribe, offering them a place in his tribe to work and forge new equipment; so far, no such luck. However, some envoys came back with knowledge of copper and iron weaponry and equipment in the other tribes, so it was only a matter of time until one came forward.

Then, an envoy returned, with troublesome news. A tribe at the mouth of the Pearl River had been increasingly hostile towards both the Tui and the Doyoi, and threatened the envoy war should they ever return again. David had been considering moving the Tui to the mouth of the Pearl River. As it seemed, it was fertile grounds for growing crops and was supposedly rich in natural resources. Yet this hostile tribe so close to their borders posed a threat to both the Tui's and the Doyoi's well being. He would have to act - before they did.
Last edited by Damverland on Sun Jan 21, 2018 4:57 pm, edited 2 times in total.
The Republic of Damverland, a nation based on the Northwest Pacific States

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G-Tech Corporation
P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 53199
Founded: Feb 03, 2010
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby G-Tech Corporation » Mon Jan 22, 2018 8:39 pm

Governor's Estate, Theoburg, Virginia
March 22nd, 100 AG

It was unseasonably warm, Timothy reflected. Even with the wicker fans run at high velocity, there was a stolid heat which refused to be budged from the passages of his house. He stirred from his chair, and put aside the letter he had been reading, pulling a thick rope which stood adjacent to his desk. Mopping his brow with a square of cloth, the heavyset Powhatan frowned as the distant sound of the bell jangled, and no steps immediately sounded on the floor to his study. It was not like Isaac to be tardy.

His fears proved unfounded, though. A half moment of consideration as to what had happened with the boy gave way in an instant to those running footsteps, and the youth burst into the study with his face full of a smile.

"Master Rasterdan. You rang?"

The governor nodded, gesturing with a glass of pewter he caught up from his desk.

"I did indeed. If you would be so kind, fetch me some of that lime cordial, a quarter glass of shaved ice. It is abominably hot, and the heat does not aid my concentration."

A bow, a nod, and the scrap of a thing departed with the glass in hand at a near-run. A good investment, young Isaac, a fostered orphan from one of the more savage tribes up north. His upbringing as a ward of the state was ongoing, but his ability to accomplish mundane tasks was invaluable to the Governor-General. It freed up the administrator's mind for more pressing matters, like the recent news out of Lagoai Governate.

Noise, a cough coming from one of the chairs in his office. Timothy Rasterdan started, having in the moment forgotten his guest. "Master Serival, would you care for an iced drink as well? I'll send Isaac off for a portion for you once he returns, if you have need."

The lean warrior spun his chair lazily toward the Governor-General's desk, and shook his head. "No, do not trouble the lad. I am more of a mood for satisfaction when it comes to information and decisions than a need for drink." The Lord-Commander of the Lucky Thirteenth leaned forward from his placid position as his eyes came to rest on Rasterdan's desk, where the report from the Outlookers of Gunersa laid open. His shape was sharp, angular, the Governor-General reflected, and too often brought to mind a spider looking upon prey to determine if it was worth entrapping. Part of the sweat that started on Rasterdan's brow had nothing to do with the heat of the day- there were few men in the Imperium whose words might lay low a Governor-General, but a man trusted to lead the military might of an entire kingdom was precisely the sort of individual who had such capabilities.

Timothy nodded, a slightly fat hand indicating the missive. "It is a delicate situation. Based on Bartholomew's report, this is a timely engagement indeed for the ambitions of Brightlord Turner. His armies are recently freed from their southern campaigns, and thus now capable of striking at Ego- and just now Ego provides him with a provocation for a full scale war. A bribed official? Fortuitous timing? Only the Almighty could say, at least for now. But it puts us in an interesting position."

Lord-Commander Hather merely sat listening to the Governor-General ramble, his gaze all but unblinking. As Timothy gathered his thoughts the serving boy returned with a welcome glass of cordial, chill to the touch, and the Powhatan took a moment to drink deeply of the beverage while considering their options.

"To my mind, the Thirteenth must march east. Overprovisioned, certainly. The roads through the Appalachians are solid, but seasonal, and our reports of the conditions in Lagoai itself are not overly encouraging. If Turner has whipped up war for no reason, then a stern hand will discourage his bloodthirsty demeanor. If the Morningstar finally has the balls to attack the Imperium, you'll show her her folly in a trice. Either way, we need to establish a formal military presence, outside of the Outlookers and local Flag Commands. That is my thinking."

Adrian Hather nodded, once, curtly. "Your thinking marches with my own. Sepaspian will be here in a month, and I'm sure your local garrisons can prevent the entirety of Virginia from burning to cinders in the interim. I have already ordered my men to muster for a march."

Timothy's face quirked in a frown for a moment, before he smiled blandly. "Godspeed, then, Lord-Commander." It was irksome to only be consulted with on matters of the New World. As Governor-General, he was accustomed to being the ultimate authority on all matters, save those where the Emperor took the time to issue edicts about the passages of North America. But the Imperial Armies marched as their masters willed, and he was a civilian official, at the end of the day. It was just an ignominy he would have to accept. Governor-General Rasterdan sipped his cordial again as the spidery figure of the military man departed, a shadow lifted from his heart at the passage of the sweet and cool liquid down his throat.
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