New Civilizations [IC | Closed]

by **Leikmis** » Mon Jan 22, 2018 9:32 pm

Lands, the greatest, goodliest, fairest,
Many such mine eyes have seen;
O’er them all the crown thou bearest.
Think what wonders here have been!
O’er the angel hosts a king;
Was not that a wondrous thing?

Town Plaza, Tcotxeni, Kingdom of Tcotxeni

Middle April

The combined inhabitants of the city of Tcotxeni were kneeled on the flattened grass that lay along the sides of the recently built plaza, a great brick and concrete square with round shape, just a bit over two millixa in diameter. It was decorated for the occasion. Children ran around behind those kneeling within the circle, giggling as they shouted the word ‘dictator’ which was so strange to them, words uttered by Masawa, as that was to be his new appointed title according to himself; Dictator of Tcotxeni. Within the circle in which they all sat and kneeled around was the King to be, Masawa himself, heir to Chieftain Irepani and the person most influenced by Sacwa’an’s ideals. Around his torso sat a forest green tunic and chlamys, made with dye bought from villages up the river but currently unreplicable by the people of Tcotxeni, as well as various Meztil ornaments and decorations that Irepani had worn.

After a bit of conversing and tiring, the children were called to the circle with their parents. Sacwa’an and several other Sanctists sat nearly in front of Masawa, just barely off center due to the path that led to the plaza being off limits seating wise.

When everyone was comfortably seated a large wooden box was carried by two of the villages warriors around the circle slowly. It had been village tradition for donations for the gods as well as to the luck of the new chieftain to be placed within a large wood or hash box and then for that box to be burned on a large fire while the village entered a session of sacrificial prayer towards the gods, especially the goddess Pehaume, the goddess of birth, fertility, and new beginnings. After the box had gone around, filled halfway with donations ranging from hand made dolls to tools to, just recently, poetry or notes, the box was placed onto a large pile of sticks in front of Masawa and then lit with a burning stick into a large, beautiful inferno.

After prayer was over Sacwa’an was called by Masawa to come up to him past the now extinguished fire. Some of the villagers were part way through getting up when Sacwa’an was called, usually when a new chieftain was declared feasting would begin after the prayer. Whatever was happening was completely foreign and not disclosed to them. They slowly stayed down and attentively watched.

Sacwa’an stopped a decillixaa or so in front of Dictatorat Masawa I who sat kneeled onto a small, raised platform in the form of a collection of logs that had been strapped together, maybe two or so feet tall from the ground. Masawa held his hand upwards, gesturing Sacwa’an to open the box. Inside was a crown made to the best of the abilities of those who worked the city forge, including Shanaran, Iadana, and Sacwa’an. The crown was made of an alloy called ‘Kaxtimpote,’ or ‘black gold,’ by those who had made it at the forge. A mix of Meztil, Silver, and Gold it produced a deep black metal that was easy to mold. The crown was decorated with Jade found in the mountains and decorated with Turqoise. The crown was made as a gift to Masawa’s reign, and was planned ahead before the celebrations.

Sacwa’an placed the crown onto the head of Masawa I, Dictator of Tcotxeni, and then bowed.

Tcotxeni Terminology

by **Damverland** » Tue Jan 23, 2018 11:29 pm

David Martin
On the east bank of the Pearl River

"Stop," David said, holding his hand up, the party behind him halting. They were thirty, and were armed with spears, clubs, bows, stone axes,
and bamboo shields. Some had spears with copper heads. The warriors were armored with pig leather. A select five carried torches. "I'm going ahead. Yao, you follow me."The Tui warrior nodded. They snuck through the brush, pushing branches and ferns out of their way. It was approaching midnight, but the moonlight guided them. Once they reached the ledge, David peered forward, being silent as a rock as he did. He gripped the hilt of his bronze sword tight. A good weapon, David thought. The Goliath had the right idea to forge one of these.

The Guzen village, like the Doyoi, had a palisade surrounding it. Had he been on ground level, he would not be able to see well into the village, but the hill gave him a practical birds-eye-view of it. It was larger than either the Doyoi's or the Tui's villages, boasting forty five huts - though they were much smaller than the Doyoi's - and three longhouses next to the river. There was only one way in, unless you enjoyed climbing wooden stakes, and that was through the open front entrance. A single man guarded it, spear in hand, watching intently. He could not see David.

He sighed, and turned to Yao. "Your bow," he said, "Kill the guard, and do not miss."

Yao nodded loyally. He raised his bow and arrow up, pulling back the string. David tensed up and got ready to jump down, if things went wrong. The guard spotted them - too late. The arrow whizzed through the brush, striking right through his left eye and jutting out the back of his head. He tried to cry out, but died before he could do so. David sighed with relief, and relaxed. "Good shooting Yao."

David motioned for the rest to approach, though only several feet from where he was standing. He had the torchbearers climb down with him and Yao. Once they were down, they stalked through the entrance. If someone came close, they would hide and watch and wait until they were gone. Fortunately, they only had to do this twice, as most of the village was asleep. It was very difficult sneaking through, as the flames were a red flag to the Guzen. They went around to the furthermost side of the village, the northeastern portion. Once there, they lit several huts up with the flame, and threw the torches on the rest. Then, they high tailed it out of the village. They climbed up the hill, and got back into their original positions. "Now we wait."

They watched as the fires in the distance grew, slowly. Smoke began to bellow up into the sky. By the time the village began to notice, one hut was nigh collapsing and part of the palisade had caught fire. They could faintly make out a man running out of a burning hut, flailing as he was engulfed in flame. Soon the village was entirely awake, and they heard shouts and frantic orders. Everyone was gathering either to the fires to try and put them out, or the river to gather water. Four Guzen warriors were rushing to the village entrance, hoping to find who did this. David hurriedly motioned for the entire party to gather up, and to attack when the guards spotted the dead sentry.

Ten seconds later, the guards saw their fallen brother, and David called out. "STRIKE!"

The party rushed downhill, crying out for blood. Yao fired an arrow, striking a guard in the gut. David charged, bellowing out a war-cry, his sword raised above his shoulder. It shone in the moonlight, bold and bronze. It would taste blood tonight. David cut him down a guard, slicing the man's fingers off, sailing in an arc. He cried out in pain, and retreated into the village. The rest were dead, and the thirty one men continued their charge into the village. David divided his men; fifteen would scour the western and southern portion of the village, while David and the rest would clear out the rest.

In the confusion, the Guzen scrambled to establish a defense. Spears were flung, stones struck here and there, men screamed as they died. David's sword was tainted with blood. It was a flurry of chaos and death. The Guzen were pinned between the Tui and the encroaching flame. Though the Guzen had originally outnumbered the Tui three to one, by then the Guzen's warriors only numbered thirteen. The element of surprise and the dark of night gave David and his men a well earned advantage. Soon the other half of the raiding party had reunited with David's group. David ordered them to round up the women, children, and whoever else. Amongst the surviving warriors was the Guzen chieftain, frightened and angry.

"Surrender and live, or fight and die!", David shouted to the chief. The man spat on the ground.

"I would rather die than give up my honor to you, tugyen!" David heard that word before. It was the local word for foreigner, or stranger. He heard it aplenty during his first months with the Doyoi. Suddenly, he heard a girl's voice. "Father!' the girl shouted, running for the Guzen chief. She looked only a few years younger than David.

"Seize her."

A warrior grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. David jerked her to him, and put his sword under her chin.

"Surrender, or your daughter dies!"

David could feel the eyes on him. He knew this wasn't right. The girl whimpered and shook, scared, in his grip. Yao looked at him, bewildered. "David, no. We do not have to resort to senseless murder." He ignored Yao, but something in his heart tugged at him, telling him not to do this. The chief looked desperate. He was shaking. Then, he dropped his spear. "I will surrender, I will surrender... But please, don't kill my sweet girl...." He began to sob.

David paused. It seemed as if the night was endless then, though the moon had only moved slightly since the attack. Finally, he built up the courage to speak again. "...Drop your weapons, you are now all hostages." The others refused to take orders from David, until the chief solemnly gestured for their surrender. Then they dropped their weapons. The Tui seized them, putting their weapons to the prisoners' backs. David pulled his blade away, and the girl ran to the chief, sobbing.

In that moment, David felt shame. True shame. As if he betrayed a man's loyal trust in him, as if he betrayed a friend. He felt like he had betrayed himself in doing this. He had gotten the chief to surrender, as well as his tribe, but through one of man's greatest weaknesses; the love of family. He felt unclean.

But, it costed no more bloodshed to the tribe. There was no honor in it, but it won him the battle. He had laid low the last threat to his tribe. And the girl did not have to die. In that moment, he realized a terrible truth. This was not the modern world, where morals and standards kept civilization peaceful. These were ancient times. Brutal, harsh, and guttural. It was live or die here. You did what you could to survive, no matter the circumstances.

It scared him, how quickly he accepted it.

By the next morning, the entire Guzen village was in flames. The smoke rose high as the flames devoured everything they could reach. David and his war party had already looted everything they could take, and kept the entire remaining populace as hostages. A small group of men were ordered to stay behind, in order to secure the area for the future movement of the Tui to the location. The party marched back south to the Tui village, with the hostages and loot in tow. When they returned, the tribe hailed David and his fellow warriors as conquering heroes. David had thus proven himself to the Tui; he had fought alongside them, and he led them to victory. What mistrust remained against him had disappeared.

Now there was only one question - what was to be done with the Guzen hostages. The thing that he did the night before had still disturbed him, and so he granted the former chief and his daughter protection as a member of his tribe, but lost any privileges of high rank. Some advised David to make slaves of the hostages, as they would be good hands in the field. Others said to kill them all. A scant few thought for him to simply release them.

Ultimately, David came to a conclusion. Those children, boys and girls, under the age of eight would be raised as proper members of the tribe, under the Tui's customs, and David's own introduced ideas. The men would become slaves, working in the paddy fields and the copper mine. The women would become caretakers of the tribe, crafting pottery, cooking, gathering fruits, and other menial tasks. Any identity of them being Guzen was to be stripped and forgotten. Any customs, practices, or beliefs of their previous live as a Guzen was forbidden. They were members of David's tribe now, and what he said, went.

Now that he had his first victory, David planned to return to the Doyoi again, to meet Elder Xu once more. To ask him of unifying the tribes.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Wed Jan 24, 2018 3:44 pm

Banks of the Yangtze, Lands of the Kingdom of Jadespear

It took three days for the forces of the Jadespear to respond to the provocation of the river warriors, and when the response came, it was not in the form the warriors beneath the banner of the Khan had expected. It was night, the early morning just after the midnight hour, when the first arrows arced down out of the gloom. Sentries posted on the vessels of the flotilla cried out in alarm, some stricken by the hail of shot; it seemed to come from many different angles, striking the ships moored nearest to shore the hardest. Some of the arrows were swaddled in cloth soaked in oil that burned merrily, and caught in sails and rigging with an abandon that seemed almost malicious. As the captains and sailors tumbled out of bunks and onto the deck to take up their positions, some men picked out faint figures on the banks here and there, men lit by a torches in places who bent shortbows valiantly to strike at the invaders.

Unnamed Tributary of Lake Tanganyika, P'Kunk

It was early morning when the rumble of the end of the world swirled past the farms of some of the lands of the P'Kunk. Farmers, some up early to get a head-start on their work, gaped in amazement and fled for safety as the river from the east rose in a sudden wall of muddy water that scoured all before it. Dozens were swept away, disappearing into the floodwaters, and indeed as the water coursed onwards its fury battered against the buildings of two humble tribal villages, men and women recently added to the numbers of the Republic vanishing as their houses collapsed into the swirling maelstrom of the risen river.

It would be days before the floodwaters receded, and by then the cause was clear- one of the earth dams that the people of P'Kunk had constructed, to use to regulate the flow of the river for trip hammers and industrialization, had failed. There were only three men in the Republic who had studied these structures up north, and obviously one or two of them hadn't studied a detail or two hard enough. The numbers of those dead or missing were still being tallied, but already some of the tribes joined to the Republic demanded recompense for the loss of their brothers, and for an end to this dam-building so their humble farming communities could be safe.

by **Erativa** » Wed Jan 24, 2018 9:23 pm

Unexpected Arrival (Chapter 1, Part 1)

Slowly.. I open my eyes to see the sunlight passing through the leaves of large trees that cast their shadows over me. I still can smell the stench of alcohol in the air... But where the fuck am I? The last thing I remember doing was getting into a car and driving to a party... I finally try to get up and almost trip on the roots of one of the trees. I take a long look around before noticing a strange breeze washing over my body. Wait. I'm naked. This must be a dream, one of those dreams where you go to school naked.

"Look, mother! A naked man! Who- What is him?" Says a voice from behind me, when I turn around I get hit by a rock on my face, making me retreat a bit and resulting in me tripping and hitting my head against the roots of the tree, KOing me again. When I wake up I feel a hot tissue wrapped around my head. As I put my hand over it to inspect it I notice that... My hand is red in my own blood. Fuck, who hit me?

"It's moving now.. What is it?" An young voice asks. I look towards the dark figures and notice that they are American Natives of some kind. Their facial features and clothing makes it easy to guess. An older woman, who is apparently the mother of the two other boys behind her, explains to her children. "I don't know.. It looks like a man.. And his skin isn't that different from us. Maybe he's some kind of mud-man? Look at his eyes. They are different than ours... And his nose. He looks like some kind of old clay sculpture." She advances and pokes my feet with a stick "Yet he is made of flesh... Maybe he is some kind of monster? We should take him to the priest!".

I shivered at the thought of being inspected by some old tribal priest but I couldn't resist much in my state, and so I was dragged by a random man of the village to meet the priest. The people of the tribe on whenever I landed - apparently in the western coast of South America, which is famous for their unforgiving weather. Great, I had to land in a place that I have no knowledge on. I could only groan in a bit of pain and confusion as we finally arrived on the priest's hut, the old man waiting for us in middle of his crafts, talismans, sculptures and even some rudimentary wool work.

"This.. Thing.. Smells strange. It looks strange. I wonder if it can even understand our words." Says the priest after examining me from toes to hair. I was still kind of dizzy because of all that happened and was trying to reorganize my mind before even attempting to speak to these natives. The night starts creeping over the land as my little "interview" with the priest continues. I would start getting tired and sick of this whol- Wait. I can understand these natives. What? And... I was about to answer them naturally. How did I get this sudden knowledge? I finally sit up while it's just me and the priest of the tribe in his hut. Well.. It's time to try this. "Hello, I am Eduardo from.. Lands far away from here. From lands where jungles cover the landscape." The old man opened his eyes wide open and...

by **Pax Nerdvana** » Thu Jan 25, 2018 9:34 am

Eddie N. Samuels- Australia- 2900 BC- Day 2

The rising sun awakened me that morning. I scurry down the tree. I suppose I should look for food and water. I noticed it seemed oddly quiet last night. No airplanes, no car alarms. Either I'm extremely far from civilization, or something. I gather up some basic supplies from the stand of trees. I break off a long branch, the splintered end should serve as a decent spearpoint. I also grab a stone with a sharp edge, it might serve as a decent knife. And of course, my glasses.

I take one last look at the stand of trees, and begin trekking eastward, towards the rising sun, in hopes of finding water to quench my thirst. You see, there's a little thing called the rule of three. You can go without air for 3 minutes. You can go without water for 3 days. You can go without food for three weeks. My biggest concern is to find the water. I walked down the hillside. I looked over the landscape and thought, "This sure doesn't look like America. I wonder if rescue is on the way. I know you're not supposed to move if you're lost, but I need to find water."

I walked for maybe an hour, hour and a half. I came across a little tiny stream going through another small stand of trees. I decided to make my camp here, because it's right next to the water. I knelt next to the stream, cupped my hands, and stuck them in the water. I thought to myself,"I hope there's nothing in the water. I should probably boil it." It looked like there was a little bit of clay on the stream bank, so I moved over there and stuck my hands into the clay.

I got a handful of clay and squished into something that vaguely resembled a pot. Than, using my glasses as a lens, I made another fire with some wood and tinder from the stand of trees and baked my little pot in the fire. It took maybe an two hours to bake. And I never thought information from art class would be useful. After it was done baking, I filled it with water and set the water filled clay pot in the fire. I let the water boil for twenty minutes, and then drank the water. I refilled the pot and put more water on too boil.

by **The Holy Dominion of Inesea** » Thu Jan 25, 2018 4:10 pm

Joseph
Saint Paris’ Hospital
Dimi

The stench of burning flesh filled the room, overwhelming the scented candles. The moans of the wounded men echoed through the halls, pierced by the shrieks of those most wounded. Nurses ran back and forth, carrying bandages and medicine to the victims. Six men lay in pain before me. Their misery was mine to cure. Their misery had been mine to cause. The burns were caused by a black powder explosion in at the Fields of Atronach. We had been testing a simple cannon design, to utilize the black powder we made. It went horribly. The iron proved far too brittle, the powder far too strong. The result, far too bloody. These six were the lucky survivors. Two of their brethern were scattered across the field. A third was studded with iron shards.

Moving carefully, I cleaned the wounds of residue and ran cool water over their skin. A pair of lyoung lads carried pots of more water into the room. Another pair took away the used bandages and bloody water for disposal or cleaning. What I would have given to have more than the basic salves present. Nonetheless, after cleaning and wrapping all six men’s wounds, I was comfortable in their prognosises. They would be in pain for months, but these six would live. The cannons on the other hand, those were dead. A lot of iron that would have to be reforged. Perhaps the next cannons we build would be of bronze and iron both. Bronze for shock absorption. I would have to talk to the ironsmiths.

Revlon
Docks
Delphi

The cry of gulls and crashing of waves were the first sounds that greeted me as I arrived at the docks of Delphi. In the distance, in the bay, small fishing craft and larger trading ships bustled about. It was far busier now than it was almost thirty years hence, before the arrival of the Prophet, before the arrival of my Holy Father Joseph. Grabbing the lead of the pack animal that carried my goods, I continued down the rise towards the docks. At the farthest berth were two larger trading galley. Towards those I walked. My knees started to complain, disagreeing with my back over how much weight I could comfortably carry. I shifted one of my satchels onto the ox, who complained as much as my knees.

“Feeling your age, Father?” called out a youthful voice behind me. My son, Cuphagoras Paris Walker, led his own animal and carried, as much as it pained me to admit it, far more weight than I on his shoulders. He was named for my late adoptive brother, the goodly Saint Paris Walker, killed 15 years past. Cuphagoras was a strapping 14 year old lad.

“Respect your Mother and your Father, you rascal. Bear in mind the teachings of your elders. You, as a member of the Walker family, must mind yourself. Your grandfather, Joseph Walker, Peace Be Upon Him, has done much for our people. Keep in that in mind. It is fine to jest when we are alone, but when we are in public, we are the face of the Prophet to the people!” It pained me to chastise my son so, but he did understand the importance of respecting Jesus Christ and his Prophet Walker and their teachings.

My faithful companion Amadeus was at the galley, waiting for us. Longshoremen were swarming over the galleys, loading barrels, crates, and sacks. Grains, meats, soaps, and other trade goods would fill our holds to the brim. However, these two galleys would carry far more food and far less trading material than the norm. Far more men as well. The mission of these galleys, my mission, was to establish a settlement far beyond the bounds of our lands. Our traders and the Prophet had discussed for months on the best direction to go. East, to what Prophet Walker called Syria or west to what he called Sicily. The traders told him that the tendrils of the Imperium were lodged deep in Sicily, but not yet so in the lands of “Syria”. Thus, that was the direction we sailed. I was directed by the Prophet Walker to establish a settlement on good arable lands. Walker had said that soon the lands of “Greece”, what he called our lands, would not be able to supply our peoples. Indeed, the population had seemingly swelled in the past few years.

Turning to my son, I gave him a firm embrace. It would be at least a year before I saw him again. “I love you my son. Serve the Prophet well.” Tears in my eyes, I boarded the galleys. With relatively little fanfare, we set out of the bay, heading for Heraklion and then Rhodes.

by **The Orson Empire** » Thu Jan 25, 2018 7:00 pm

Lagoon Company Outpost 0151, Ohio River, Kentucky
April 14th, 100 AG

Inside one of the watchtowers, several burly, armored men monitored the river and the surrounding landscape for any threats. The Ohio Campaign was still ongoing, and raids in this particular area of the river had been increasing in intensity over the last several days. With more and more soldiers being withdrawn from the region up north to fight the great enemy of Blue Lagoon, the guards found themselves doing their work now, being forced to patrol the surrounding farms and forests and protect company assets and land from raids. The Lagoon Company had even fought major field battles with these tribes who had stubbornly refused to submit to Turner's will, always coming out on top due to their advanced technology; the company had the wealth to equip all of their security forces with the best available equipment.

This outpost in particular was only constructed within the last three years, but it had already grown to become an important entrepot in the Ohio River trade. The outpost was rectangular in shape and surrounded by a wooden wall and several watchtowers. It contained all of the features of a typical outpost of this design: docks, warehouses, factories, taverns, slaughterhouses (used to process turkey, buffalo, and other meats), granaries, barracks, a marketplace a semaphore tower for telecommunications, and a central "big house" for administrative purposes. This outpost in particular also had a major civilian population of some 900 people, who either lived within the walls or lived in villages just outside of the outpost. Many of these people had been displaced from their homes during the campaign, and had begun congregating in this area due to the job opportunities the Lagoon Company offered them, and they now made up much of the outpost's workforce.

Also inside the watchtower was another man, not clothed in armor but instead in a black suit of Imperial design and boots, as he was wealthy enough to afford such clothing. He, along with the rest of the guards were sweating profusely, as it was unusually hot for this time of the year. He looked out to the north, seeing dozens of large sailing ships docked along the banks of the river, while other ships sailed passed them towards the east. It was very odd- he was used to seeing the docks bustling with activity as many tons of cargo were offloaded and brought towards the warehouses or shipped out to other locations. However, today was a special occasion, as the outpost had been ordered by both the Board of Directors and the Lagoon government to reserve as many ships as possible for a major river crossing.

The Administrator looked even further towards the horizon, where he saw many company-owned farms all along the river bank. The majority of the spring planting had been completed, and so the farms were not very active at this time. Planting was done in a complex process commonly referred to as the "Three Sisters", overseen by the Administrator and the company to ensure a good harvest. Maize was planted first, providing support for beans to be planted; the beans provided nitrogen to the soil that the other plants could use. Then, squash could be planted last, preventing weeds and maintaining the moisture in the soil. This form of companion planting maximized harvests and ensured that stockpiles of these staple foods could be kept year round. Beyond the farmhouses and wooden silos were roads and forests.

"Here they come," one of the guards said as everyone turned towards the east.

Far in the distance, the sounds of boots marching on the dirt filled the air. A full Great Company- 5,000 men, plus hundreds of auxiliary troops, were marching towards the east gate of the outpost, where they would then be shuttled across the river by the ships the Administrator had been authorized to reserve. From there, they could begin the march through Indiana and Wisconsin, towards the front line. The merchants were of course unhappy that river traffic had to be halted for an entire day at this part of the river, but the Administrator would rather them be angry than piss off Adrian Hather of the Lucky Thirteenth. 0151 was already hard enough to manage with the constant demands of the merchants- pissing off a major Imperial army would make it even harder.

As the Great Company approached, villagers stood on the side of the road and gawked, amazed at the sight before them. They had never seen men of fair skin before, and to them it was like an alien race had arrived right in their backyard. They had different mannerisms, spoke differently, dressed differently, they even smelled differently...everything about them was alien. The guards admired the weaponry of the soldiers the most, knowing that Ego would hardly stand a chance against them. As for the Administrator however, he began to sweat even more, this time out of fear.

Leaving the watchtower, his personal group of bodyguards followed him towards the east gate, along with one more individual- a translator, recruited from Virginia. He was a man who understood the tongue of Ego, the tongue of the Imperials, and the local tongue of his tribe in Virginia, and thus was an important asset to the lagoon company.

The Administrator signed as the guards opened the gate. The flag of Blue Lagoon, emblazoned with the symbol of the Patient Crow, fluttered in the wind above. "Let's get this over with," he mumbled to himself.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Thu Jan 25, 2018 10:27 pm

Part 4, Chapter 6: Silver or Lead

April 5th, 100 AG

I leaned back slightly where I reclined, moving the sun of the day down from the tip of my nose where it had been creeping towards my eyes back to my mid-chest where it belonged. A swipe of minor idleness cleared a drop of sweat from my brow where it was beginning to form, and I nodded towards one of the servants that stood nearby, gesturing wordlessly with my glass. She dropped a minor curtsy, not exactly the protocol of a woman of breeding, but more than I strictly required; the people here on the Jewel of the Middle Sea were more given to formalities and niceties than I had anticipated. Up came the pitcher from the side table where she stood waiting, and into my crystal goblet surged a new swill of chilled white wine, a vintage from the Anatolian Coast not far distant.

It refreshed the throat and the mind, and I turned to where my companion reclined. "Kara, more drink?" Lazy eyes turned from where the Egyptian reclined atop her couch of wicker and sturdy woven cotton, their thin lids lined in the kohl of her people making her gaze surreptitious but exotic. Karomama Meritmut considered the suggestion for a moment, then shook her head slightly, causing the straight tassels of her head to sway gently to and fro as pendulums tipped in gold.

"I am sated for now, Hegemon. Sated in body, at least. Do you think the ships will be in position soon?"

A good question. Begrudgingly I stirred, raising myself upright in my chair and prizing myself off of it in a smooth motion that set sandal-clad feet on sandstone pavers. One of the servants hurried forward with a tall fan of bound paper cut thick to keep off the sun, but I waved her away. I was no pampered merchant of Crete, to require protection from the sun's rays. Indeed, unlike the locals, I all but adored them. A winter in the mountains of the Erzgebirge, or even farther south in the foothills of the eastern Alps, could make a man miss warmth and light in earnest. The return of spring I welcomed, for though I had always been much enamored of the seasons, their changing was what gladdened the heart.

A short distance in front of the pavilion I walked, and there the man stood who was overseeing this demonstration, Fabricator Angelos Freikas. His willowy frame looked like it would blow away in the sea breeze as I took a position next to him, but he was a man of unadulterated passion. It took a polite cough, actually two (for the first was lost in the howl of the wind on the pier) to bestir him from his rapt attention on the proceedings beyond the breakwater. Startled gray eyes looked into mine for a moment, before the madman of Minos smiled.

"Lady Meritmut grows impatient, is it not so?"

I nodded, for such was the truth, of course. My own patience was not infinite either, but Angelos knew that. And he had never failed me before, so there was a longer handle for the axe of my wroth when it came to waiting on his peculiarities. The Fabricator was a man who had to have everything just so, marionettes dancing to the tune that he called in clockwork precision, a fastidiousness that I could appreciate while not feeling any great desire to emulate it.

His spyglass, produced with a flourish from a pocket on his thin tunic that he wore over his breeches- an impractical garment in better weather, but common here where the sun beat down upon golden sand and azure seas at every hour of the day and every day of the year. The old man smiled patronizingly, a thing few men did in my presence, but his wild gesticulations toward the few vessels beyond the pier made me forgive the impertinence. I placed the polished glass against my eye, and peered for a few moments before a smile slowly crossed my lips.

"Very good, Angelos. I will rouse the lady."

The inventor smiled and capered as a child will do when praised, and handed me a heavy pistol marked in crimson dye.

"The red one, yes, it will start the demonstration. All is in readiness, yes. You will be proud Viktor, proud of what we have accomplished here. The Guardian is my life's work, and what a life it has been."

I turned, and trod back to the cool shade of the pavilion, where a questioning eyebrow raise from Kara greeted my outstretched hand. She took the offered hand as a wry grin flitted on her face, and her tones of haughty Common were softened by an edge of anticipation and glee that told me all I needed to know about her expectations of this meeting.

"I take it all is ready then. Lead on."

We did not walk far, the shade-bearing servants covering our path, but only up a short winding walkway to the apex of a small stony hill that sat near the wash of the port of Kairon. It would have barely been a hill, in truth, save for it was one of the guardposts that a stolid fortification of faced granite and concrete stood atop. The lady's face was slightly flushed as we reached the apex of the tower, but the view banished any recriminations she might have uttered. From here one could- indeed, the guardsmen did- survey all of the approaches to the harbor here on the northern side of Crete, and in particular the four ships that were at rest just beyond the harbormouth.

Four ships, three very common to these parts of the Middle Sea, one decidedly less so. The three were humble triremes, the ship of the many nations that voyaged upon the shores of the sun-drenched Mediterranean; Athens, Sympagis, Helios, Egypt- they all made use of such galleys, serviceable workhorses driven by the back-breaking labor of hundreds, keen to ape Imperial designs and secure their waterways. There were a hundred like them within a hundred leagues of Crete, in all likelihood, for every merchant worth their salt made use of such ships where they could be afforded, the power of oars allowing a shipment to move forward even when the fickle winds would not serve.

But the fourth, ah, she was of a type far rarer. There were ironclads, after a fashion, that went upon the waves of the Imperial lake- my old friend Cirdan, ironically and aptly named if ever a man had been, had seen to the launch of the first such vessel a lifetime ago. They were the reason no man or brigand challenged those under the Great Anchor for control of the Bosphorous or the choice islands of Crete and Cyprus, and why traders from here to the Gates of Hercules paid taxes to sail upon the charted lanes of commerce which swelled the Imperial coffers. But there were ironclads, and then there were ironclads. The Cirdan-class steamships were slow when without the wind, relying on supplementary sails for speed due to their weight, and they fought much as their forefathers had, with ram and fighting deck and ballistae, the major innovation their armored waterline which saw them immune to any feats of ramming which intrepid sailors might embark upon in desperation.

I offered Karomama the heavy pistol, and she held it awkwardly skywards, as if praying. A whisper from me avoided any ignominy in front of her entourage and servants, and the machine barked in her hands, startling oaths out of some of the other dark-skinned southerners that had accompanied the wife of Governor Nefermaat to this juncture. Some cowered down, which earned nothing but amusement from the eyes of those guards on duty here, but that amusement they did not allow to go beyond said eyes. Diplomatic, at least. High above our heads the crimson flare flung itself up to be caught by the sea-breeze, pink-red smoke a line traced toward the sun which rode high in the sky.

Down my gaze fell then, and beside me Kara leaned out over the battlements, as if by bringing her eyes closer to the scene unfolding below us she might understand it better. Billows of black smoke, then white, rose from the gleaming gray pipes placed near the rear of the Guardian, and she began to move, slowly at first, then with a terrible speed. The Egyptians did not need to know that she had already been under steam for the better part of the hour, her boilers idling but hot; though there were yet vulnerabilities in the White Fleet, the less our potential enemies learned of them the better for peace in the Middle Sea. Soon she flew faster than the wind, or seemed to, the white foam of her gleaming prow dividing the water like a Biblical Moses and outpacing the ocean waves which rumbled alongside her.

The eyes of the Egyptians were wide and staring as the ironclad impacted the first trireme. This was combat they were somewhat used to, and thus the subversion of their expectations so much more impactful. Where a trireme rammed, then pulled backwards by great coordinated effort to leave an enemy to sink, the burnished galvanized steel prow of the Guardian sheared through the anchored vessel (a captured pirate launch from off of Libya) as if it were made of thin paper. The crunch of the wooden hull was faintly audible from this height, though to stand on the deck of the ship would be deafening, and in mere moments it was followed by another terrible sound; in scarcely the amount of time the bisected trireme began to sink into the waves, the steamship had cleared her wreckage completely, and bitten into the second ship with a ferocity barely lessened by the first assault.

She too was no more than a toddler standing before the turning of the tides. Sturdy timbers grown for a hundred winters and shaped with the labor of many men parted before the Guardian as if they were no more than toothpicks, the careful engineering of a sailing ship reduced to so much flotsam and debris in the span of several breaths. Then the ironclad turned to come alongside the third and final ship, and a contraption swiveled on the surface of her fighting deck. I watched it, grumbling internally at the speed of the traverse, and noting several times where it failed to rotate smoothly. But when the turret spoke, the Egyptians gasped in astonishment; the shell launched by the Guardian struck the last trireme near midship, and detonated wonderfully, sending a column of water skyward and the ship literally flying in all directions.

When Kara turned to me when she regained her composure I saw respect and awe, and perhaps even a hint of fear. Not emotions I looked for in a great Egyptian noblewoman, for their culture was firmly entrenched in its belief that the Pharaoh's kingdom represented the best of humanity, a view I had just shaken mightily. She didn't need to know that the hydraulic turret was still dodgy and prone to breakdowns, and that she was made to be hand-cranked when the system inevitably failed. None of them did. All the southerners saw was a ship that could render an entire fleet readied for war into so much scrap and splinters in moments of battle, and against which even the greatest of Pharoah's commanders would be helpless.

I smiled at the wife of the garrison commander of Lesos.

"An ample demonstration of my reasons for joining with the Imperium, think you not my lady?"

Treason, strictly speaking, against her sovereign ruler. But Nefermaat was a practical man, and could see which way the wind was blowing. To the east the Imperium controlled the trade routes to Mesopotamia and beyond. To the north Alexandria stood bestride the mouths of the Nile, and grew rich which the Pharoah dithered on his throne, while bankers and priests warred for power in his waning shadow. Treason, at the right time, could be rational thought in a world gone mad.

And it wasn't as if the Governor would not be richly rewarded, of course. Loyalty was a commodity hard to measure, but a commodity nonetheless.

Lagoon Company Outpost, Kentucky
April 14th

As the Great Company approached the gates of the small settlement, some of the horsemen at the front of the marching host divided, and a half dozen men rode forward on heavy chargers. They cantered slightly, then slowed, reining in their steeds just before the party that stood there ready to greet them. One of them swung down out of the saddle smoothly, a young man with hair the color of beaten gold and a nasty scar on his left cheek that looked like that of a jagged animal claw. He glanced over the assembled men, then removed his light steel helmet and slapped a balled right fist over his heart in salute.

"Good afternoon, citizens. I am Herald Xavier Himyar, of the Thirteenth. The Lord-Commander has asked that I be his voice while he is busy within the host at this time. Who here speaks for this city?"

His tongue was not the smooth Common one might have expected, but thickly accent Tradespeak from Ego, a motley patois mixed with some of the clipped vowels and swallowed consonants of the Powhatan. It was understandable enough though, for most purposes, and betrayed that the Lord-Commander had little faith that the newly integrated citizens of Lagoai Governate would have taken the time to learn Common.

by **Damverland** » Fri Jan 26, 2018 4:18 am

David Martin

The rain came down like a torrent in the dark night, and the stones below him were wet and slippery. Several times he almost fell, but David persevered up the great hill. At the top was the longhouse, home of Elder Xu. There were no lights for David to see, and so he had to be careful where he walked.

David had realized what the elder thought of him. He favored him, even among his own kin he favored David, a mysterious teenager from a land and a tribe no one had heard of. A land called Texjin (or so they called it), from the tribe of Avri. Even still, four months later, some among the tribes were suspicious of him. But now they were few, as David had proved to them he was no enemy. He won the trust of his tribe after their victory over the Guzen, and those in the Doyoi knew him well now. He taught them new things, such as crop irrigation, simple military tactics, and the history of his own land. He knew these people, and they learned to know him. David felt it was time, then.

David entered the longhouse, pushing the dog leather sheet out of his way as he came through the entrance. He shook off the rain as he came in. He found Elder Xu sitting down, crosslegged, next to a small fire, rocks around it to keep it from spreading. His thin white beard nearly touched his thigh. He looked as if he was asleep, his eyes shut, but when David said his name he opened his eyes. David bowed.

"Ah, David, my friend. You are an unexpected pleasure to host. What brings you here?"

"Hello, Elder Xu. It's somewhat important, considering I climbed up this hill in the rain in the middle of the night." Xu chuckled.

"Indeed it must be, then. Sit." David did as asked, sitting down next to the fire in the same position as the elder. Its heat was a welcome feeling after trudging through the cold, boisterous storm.

"Xu, I... I am somewhat afraid to ask." David sighed.

Xu spoke reassuringly. "Do not be afraid, child. Whatever you have to say, I will hear you. I do not turn away those who ask for my wisdom, I simply guide them to the answer they seek."

"Thanks," David said, reassured. "Xu, you've only known me for four months... You are eighty years old now?"

The elder nodded. "That I am."

"Then you've likely known many young men in your lifetime, likely far longer than you've known me, each of them hotblooded, brave, kind..." He paused for a moment.

"You've probably known many of them who have come to you, asking for... leadership." In the laws of the Doyoi, the elder chose who would be chieftain. Xu became the new elder of the tribe when the last chief had died, and during that time he did not raise any others to their position. Thirty years the rank had gone empty, and the tribe was either dictated by Xu, or among the family heads. They were without a leader. Some called Xu "picky", but he told them he was simply waiting for the right one to come. Many came forward, who claimed they were the "right one". But Xu saw through them and knew that was not the case. There was no one so bold as to do it again.

"You are bold to come here and ask of that, David. Yes, there have been many claimants... I believe I've lost count."

"So, I mean, when was the last one?"

"Ten years ago."

David gulped.

"Well..." He sighed. "I'm sure you heard this many times before, but... I wish to claim the position, of chieftain of the Doyoi."

For a moment, Xu simply looked at him. But he did not stare at him. he looked at him, as if he was examining him. Then, the old man smiled.

"Then so you shall be."

David looked at him in surprise, then a smile grew around his face. Yet still, he had questions.

"Elder, I... . . . Thank you. But... Why me?"

"My child, I have known a great deal of bold men in my lifetime. They had come to me, asking for the title. They promised they would lead our people to glory. Most were mighty warriors. Some likely could've killed a grown man with their toes. But that? That was all they knew. Fighting, killing, war. Violence."

"David, I speak to you with kindness, but you are no warrior. You are small and weak. Yet still, you slew the great Tui chief, and took his dominion over his people. All with a handful of rocks. That was smart. When you struck at the tribe to the north, you say six of you lit aflame a portion of their village, distracting them from your assault. That was clever. And when it came to it, you took your weapon to the throat of the daughter of their chief, and threatened her blood if they did not forfeit. And in the end, less blood was spilled than if you hadn't threatened her. That was merciful." The elder took up a clay cup from his side, cold water in it, and drank. He sat it down afterwards.

"You have introduced new ideas to us. Bold, yet useful ideas. Some may be wary of them, but I am not. Greatest of all, you have brought peace between the Tui and us, and ended another threat in the north as well. You have shown that you are more than you seem. Whether you are a spirit, or a mysterious man from lands distant, I know not. But I feel you are here for a reason, David. You are no mere killer, you are a leader. You have guided us thus far. You are the one."

by **Ralnis** » Fri Jan 26, 2018 2:02 pm

Chapter 7, part 3:Business of the Land
P'kunk, Capital Region, Mantu Olu
May, 2900BCE/BC

May had turned into one of the worst that the Republic had. It was only recent since the Republic had started to consolidate the region and started making plans for regional industrialization. Bob had plans to continue with the industrialization and set up the blast furnaces near the local rivers and finery forges in order to keep the expansion of their small economy. One of the earthen dams had busted in the Kunkai Tributary which was used for P'kunk's basic industry that provided the city with its iron and bronze crafts when it could get it.

The new tribes that became Inocrypto at the time had saw their families be swept away by the regulated water and it had caused the deaths of dozens of citizens. This sort of thing led to the elders to go to the Lower Council to get recompense and end the dam-building for fear of them busting. This became the first survey and public forum that happened in the Republic as people were allowed to say their peace because of the disaster and many voted for an bill or act to cease the dam-building.

Bob had heard of this and called a Council meeting with the three experts who came from the north. They claimed that they didn't know that it would happen but assured that the dams would be restored. The Upper Council dismissed their word, proclaiming that men of hard science should bring results instead of their faith in their works. Bob then wanted to see the dam site and to see what the damage was. It seem that the counterweights and the dam weren't properly weight, on top of the wood and earthen support weight collapse as water would get plugged with incoming dirt.

Bob had made several points that the dam was poorly constructed and that the rest of their dams were the same. The scholars asked their Executive for forgiveness but Bob wasn't looking for excuses, but solutions to their problems. Some of the Upper Councilmen gave their opinion as they believe that they shouldn't do dam-building until the scholars review the dams that they have and then reinforce and improve what they already have. Bob also stated that the villages that were swept by the raging current were near the tributary in the first place.

The Executive went to the tribal leaders and the tribal communities who were the Republic's subsistence farmers. The communities were still near the rivers that Bob had started to draft the need for water and wind-powered industry for the use of blast furnaces and he asked why the leaders didn't move. The elders gave answers ranging from ancestral lands to the fertile mud being good to grow their wheat. Bob stated that the region was very fertile away from the Lake and the rivers but the issue was that it wasn't so much in comparison to the Holy Serengeti or the river that they had been farming forever.

After weighing his options, he asked Bittertooth what he thought of this.

" A civilization is built on its stomach before it's built on hammers." He quoted.

Bob gave a sigh as he said that he what he must do. The next couple of days he was meeting with the Upper Council as they voted on a decision. The tribes who lost their families and brothers were given recompense for the lost as it was a fault on P'kunk for not looking at their dams and industry. They couldn't stop the dam-building in the future but they will stop now as the scholars were to look at the dams that they had built and look to improve what they had and use those designs to build better dams.

As for the tribal communities living near the river, most had to be moved but in exchange the Republic would put its newly acquired resources to set up mass irrigation to the region with windmills and earthen sewers to divert water from the river source as a means of farming and sanitation. Bob and the Upper Council would start getting the designs from their experts and present them to the other communities to garner support for the consolidation of the lands and the general people as they put their blasting furnace on hold for now.

Bob on the other hand wanted to meet with some of the alchemists to get together to make gunpowder and rocketry formula. The alchemist were very, very happy to see that this was approved as Bob had said that they have enough resources to divert some to make the deadly combination but must not be used in combat until they are safely made and controlled for the use of mining and for flamethrowers.

It was still painful for them to hold back the use of blasting furnaces, but more fertile lands will allow for the population to grow.

Inocrypto Embassy,
Klacroz, The Dark Realm

The first embassy that the Inocrypto had with another Immortal-touched civilization. The embassy was made of clay and wood, was smaller to the stone buildings of P'kunk. The ambassador and foreign team did have the freedom to make themselves at home.

They put up their familar tapestry and Voodoo shrine in the back as a place to worship and do community prayer and ritual. They maintain a contingent of warriors and arbalest who had to keep watch on their supplies as it was a long-distance between the two countries.

Bob also had recruited Untouchables to keep an eye on the the Dark Realm and watch for anything that can danger the Inocrypto, like the Imperium or should Robert have any influence that is anti-Inocrypto.

The spies had mention that the Cultists had internal work but it shouldn't be a problem. The spies reported away from the foreign team but had an inside man in the embassy as it was as close to Republican land as possible.

One thing that the Inocrypto had to keep away was their camels, as the smell alone caused what horses the Cultists had to run away and numerous incidents had led to the camels being kept away from the people in their own corrals.

As the relations did seem to develop well enough, the ambassador did start to do talks with trade. The Dark Realm Ambassador was quite happy to bring up trade but the Inocrypto priest that wanted to stress that the Republic wanted to send survey teams out here to gauge the potential profitability of such long-distance trade.

Eventually they came and access the trade value of each resource. What was good was that the resources are plentiful for trading, and their near the large camel herds, something that they wanted and revered. After the report came back to the ambassador he was happy to allow the trade to go through between the two nations. Mantu Olu would need to set up way stations and would help pay for the cost of maintaining them.

Though one thing that they wanted to survey and gather were the camels and that was good enough to try and set up a long-distance trade. The deal was finalized and diplomatic relations deepen between the two nations.

by **Ulls** » Fri Jan 26, 2018 8:53 pm

City of Ego,
Land of Ego, March

Within the three walls of the rebuilt city, the sound of tens of thousands of men were marching to war. Jeb was secretly inside the palace as he saw the hundreds of canons that were being blessed by the shamans and loaded on the support wagons. Morning Star entered the room as he just looked at the marching of men.

" What's the word from the Lake King?" He asked his daughter.

" He accepted our deal." Morning Star said in a neutral tone.

" Then all that leaves is the heartland and the capital." Jeb turned around.

Morning Star runs and hugged her adoptive father, tears streaming down her face. He hugged her as he knew what was she trying to ask, what she always wanted to say. It was his fault but grieving was not going to solve the issue. He pushed him away as the hwachas were being loaded as thousands of rockets were being loaded by their artillery brackets.

To Jeb, this would be the end of the Ninth War, the most punishing war that ever happened to Ego and the most devastating war that made Jeb realized the error of his mistake. Thousands died but more have to be given to the battlefield as the weapons of war had made the battlefield more deadlier than ever. Bob told him of the dangers of being a Brightlord and inside of Imperium tactics that the Skulk now use, even as they make their exit strategy finalize in the case they were too late.

Jeb knew that the deal that was struck between a successor was better than anything as the battle inside Blue Lagoon was a fight inside hell. He knew that the Turner would use every cunning trick he had in his arsenal, he already sold his soul to the Imperium and can pray to Jesus to end the enemy that had caused him so much heartache.

Jeb had told the Skulk to release the information about the false flag attack as they had suspected and follow the trail back to Elites and a false army attacking its own people. It was sent to the Imperium's intel networks the Voodoos know under the pretense that the "people of Ego wouldn't strike unless they have too and the Brightlord that they recruited is a devil in disguise."

It was the only way that the secretive warlord could hold back some of the animosity that will happen when they come months from now, but this only meant that they had to move as a Great Company was all they need to stop their march. The Itasca Fleet was being armored up and prepped with gunpowder bombs to be used but some were waiting on the larger galleys, known as galless, to be seen in the rivers as they did their first tests with some bombards on a broadside in Twilight's Gate.

It was all-or-nothing for the warriors of Ego as this could say their doom, shacklement, or their doom as war marches once again.

by **The Orson Empire** » Sat Jan 27, 2018 9:35 pm

G-Tech Corporation wrote:
Lagoon Company Outpost, Kentucky
April 14th

As the Great Company approached the gates of the small settlement, some of the horsemen at the front of the marching host divided, and a half dozen men rode forward on heavy chargers. They cantered slightly, then slowed, reining in their steeds just before the party that stood there ready to greet them. One of them swung down out of the saddle smoothly, a young man with hair the color of beaten gold and a nasty scar on his left cheek that looked like that of a jagged animal claw. He glanced over the assembled men, then removed his light steel helmet and slapped a balled right fist over his heart in salute.

"Good afternoon, citizens. I am Herald Xavier Himyar, of the Thirteenth. The Lord-Commander has asked that I be his voice while he is busy within the host at this time. Who here speaks for this city?"

His tongue was not the smooth Common one might have expected, but thickly accent Tradespeak from Ego, a motley patois mixed with some of the clipped vowels and swallowed consonants of the Powhatan. It was understandable enough though, for most purposes, and betrayed that the Lord-Commander had little faith that the newly integrated citizens of Lagoai Governate would have taken the time to learn Common.

The Administrator and his party moved just outside the gate, seeing the Great Company and all their glory right in front of them. The Administrator gulped; seeing such well-armored soldiers right in front of him was vastly different from the bird's eye view. He shuddered, feeling sympathy for anyone or anything that had to face such a force and the full firepower of their rifles and cannons in battle. May the gods be with them indeed.

Fortunately, today was not that day. The Imperium was on their side.

Six of their men would ride forward before reigning in their horses. "I'm still not used to these beasts," the Administrator would whisper to the translator, who quickly nodded in agreement. While not outright terrified of horses like many others in Blue Lagoon, he was still very wary of them. Never before had his people seen such powerful beasts of burden, save for the occasional bison.

A young man with the blondest hair anyone in the party had seen stepped off of the horse and removed his metal helmet. He saluted, and everyone in the party returned the salute. He spoke in the pidgin language that had developed throughout Ego and this region for trade purposes. The Administrator could roughly make out what he was saying, but the translator was to speak anyway. After all, he knew Common, and the Administrator wanted the Imperials to be as comfortable as possible in this foreign land.

"I wish to speak in Common, so we may understand each other equitably," the translator said in Common before stepping forward. "I am Aranck, a translator for Administrator Matu Naaga, who leads this outpost. We are both employees of the Lagoon Company, and the Administrator has allowed me to speak for him. I trust your overland journey was without incident, Herald?"

by **Ulls** » Sun Jan 28, 2018 8:07 am

Blue Lagoon-Ego Border,
April 13th

Chicago and its lands were contested, Turner's men made the first move with his professionals skirmishing frontier castles and border patrols. However things were changing as soon the invasion Turner wanted was happening. With the Lake King's aid, reports of Dominion raids were happening in one of the largest scale's since they broke away from Ego proper. The Eastern Front would split Turner's army in half and their logistics to be broken on two sides and strained in general.

This allowed Jeb and Mak Tan to evoke a plan of shock and awe to overwhelm Turner's main army that had been massing at the border, awaiting the Imperials to support their endeavors in conquering Ego. Skulk reports had shown that they have canons, but nothing else as far as enhance technology but time was still of the essence.

Ego had more might to spare, and more industry to manufacture their gunpowder weapons to pull this off. It was going to be a brutal campaign, one that couldn't be unnerved with the loss of conscripts but they must be afraid of their time being used up. They organized the armies to make sure that they can spearhead their fronts across the Heartland.

They assembled the Three Spears, the first two Spears assembled the tip that would fight the main army and make way for the third. Mak Tan wanted to lead the First Spear, as they expected Turner to focus on the main road to Tu Thancha to get to the center of Wisconsin again. However, the second spear was towards Chicago, and would use that as a their start.

It was considered the largest invasion that was ever recorded, not even the Great War had these numbers but each had their missions. Their ultimate goal is to bring down the Deceiver before the Imperials foster a strong enough support to halt the Egoian war march. They only have months to do this and Jeb expressed that this was all-or-nothing, they can't lose their nerve as days past.

Mak Tan was with the First Spear and Knight-Commander Silver-Eye was in command of the Second Spear. Though days apart, they began their operation of mass invasion against Turner and the clock.

by **Kraicia** » Sun Jan 28, 2018 8:34 am

Scandinavia, Stockholm to Turku
Kikka Käthemainen

Dusk had began to settled in the Baltic Sea between the Åland Islands and Eastern Sweden. The once warm 66.9°F afternoon was slowly beginning to drop by the hour as dusk rolled in. Among the calm and steady waters of the Baltic Sea, a small white single-mast sailing boat sailed into the wind as it was making its return home to the Finnish Turku archipelago.

20-Year-Old Kikka Käthemainen was all alone as she manned the small single-mast sailing boat back home to her native Finnish homeland. Dressed in jeans, fur-lined jackboots, and a thick plastic-coated jacket to insulate herself from the usual Scandinavian cold, Kikka was returning home to Finland after spending a few-days-long vacation in Stockholm with her friends. Seeing that a ferry ticket was too expensive, Kikka decided as usual to sail across the Baltic Sea from Turku to Stockholm without paying a single cent; however, just as it seemed she was going to return home by nighttime, the weather wasn't exactly on the same terms.

Certainly, there was no storm that loomed beyond the horizon, nor was there any fearsome tides rolling in. Rather it was the fact that a fog was slowly settling in a few miles up ahead of Kikka and her boat. The Åland Islands were not that faraway from Kikka's visual perception, even as she took a view from her binoculars and saw the faintest bit of land amid the upcoming fog.

Unfortunately, Kikka couldn't help but struggle to fathom as to how the fog ahead of her was forming such a thick cover. While she is no stranger to the fog among the Åland Islands, this fog in particular was unusual in which it was becoming increasingly thick and dense. The faintest of sunlight was slowly disappearing by the horizon, which was enough for Kikka to sail to the Åland Islands; however, as Kikka approached what should have been the Åland Islands, all what she saw was just the dense fog all around her as she kept sailing forward.

By now, the fog had essentially clouded and obscured Kikka's path to sailing home - now she could only see fog in a kilometer radius. Shock was a distant overstatement, rather it was proper to say that Kikka was confused as to why there was such a thick fog. The water remained calm and steady as usual, combined with no storm or heavy rainfall; however, Kikka was concerned about her whereabouts as she kept sailing through the fog.

“Niin sumuinen heinäkuun iltana. (So foggy for a July evening.)” Kikka muttered after looking through her binoculars in every direction.

“Koti makea Suomi on lähellä. (Home sweet Finland has to be close.)”

Another mutter escaped Kikka’s lips like the previous one; however, it was at that point that there was no point in sailing any further when there is too much fog. So against progress and any other ships sailing on the same route as herself, Kikka reeled up her sails and let her ship idle in the water as the anchor held it down. If she was in the ocean, Kikka would have been asking nature to just send her aimlessly drifting out in the middle of nowhere.

Being in the Baltic Sea, however, was more forgiving for Kikka, since she appeared to be close enough to shore for anchoring her ship and idling for the fog to settle. Plus, by the time Kikka had reeled up her sails and anchored, darkness by then had finally settled in. Subsequently, this all together had forced Kikka to not only wait out the fog, but also sleep through the night in a foggy July evening.

Luckily, this was not the first time Kikka had to sleep out at sea - she had endured such conditions before in previous travels between Turku and Stockholm. So when Kikka retired to the small cabin on her sailboat, she only thought that this fog was ordinary and would eventually dissipate by morning. Undressing into her green pajama shirt and pants, including a pair of wool socks, Kikka subsequently retired to her bed in the dark, but not before taking one final look out her cabin window ... only to last see the thick fog rolling in...

Kamchatka Taiga Forest
Day One

Ten hours had slowly come to pass as Kikka slowly woke up. The first thing that Kikka felt was that she wasn't lying on her bed - the surface felt...bristly and rough. Then she heard the familiar sound of the small finches and robins chirping peacefully; however, that was when Kikka realized from that sound that something was aloft.

When she opened her eyes, she didn’t see the roof nor the walls of her sailboat. Rather, she had awoken in a taiga; however, taiga forests are not entirely surprisingly to Kikka, since she had hunted in the forest and awoken nearly nude on a few occasions, that is if she been resting near a sauna or a hot springs. Then, it was from those thoughts that Kikka realized that she had nothing upon herself to shield her flesh from the elements, not even her undergarments were present upon herself either.

“Minä varmaan uneksin... (I must be dreaming...)” Kikka muttered curiously, since waking up in a forest was nothing unusual - not when she was someone who hunted deer and birds in the forest before.

“Mutta miksi tämä tuntuu todelliselta? (But why does this feel real?)” Kikka thought to herself in the same level curiosity. Thankfully, since it was the summer season, the subsequent day that Kolkata awoken upon was warm and bearable enough without wearing any kind of attire. But even then, the same couldn’t be said for the nights and the upcoming autumn - something which Kikka couldn’t ignore as she awoken in the taiga forest.

The first thing she needed to do was make shelter ... with no tools .... or gloves. That was fairly simple - all she needed to do was dig a hole in the dirt and then cover the top with foliage before installing a door. While it meant getting her hands dirty, Kikka needed to find a thin and long log lying somewhere in the ground to act as a shovel.

Taiga forests are known for very thick and strong wood, especially since pine trees are meant to be hearty and strong against the extreme cold and snow. So all it took for Kikka was some brief exploration before finding a fallen tree, which was thin and lean enough where she can pick it up and snap it in half via a gap between a pair of trees. Then, once she acquired a narrow log that was 5ft long, Kikka started digging.

Then, once the digging was over, Kikka had roughly dug herself a 6ft by 6ft hole with a depth of 3ft. The depth of her hut was important, since she had to build a sloped roof, which would protect her against the snow or rain that is soon to come by autumn and winter. Now with the base of the hut completed, Kikka needed to build the framework of her roof - which only took some roots (as cordage) and some more wood.

Most of the pine trees were already too thick and big to cut down by hand, so Kikka had to stay with the narrowest trees possible until she could create a stone axe or adze. Even then, rocks are hard to come upon in a taiga forest if a river was absent; thereby forcing Kikka to walk a little further in the woods before acquiring herself the sight of another narrow tree. Unfortunately, the tree in mind was standing perfectly and tall unlike the first tree which had already fallen.

But, Kikka only nodded while a huff escaped her lips before she lunges forward and used her own momentum and weight to bend the tree. Pulling the tree down with all the strength she had, Kikka struggled to keep the narrow tree held down for a few minutes before the base of the tree finally crackled and snapped. Tree 0; Kikka 2; nature had been tamed as usual by Kikka, followed by Kikka picking up the fallen tree log and carrying it back to her hut.

At 16ft tall, the tree had a moderate weight under 200lbs, which was easily handled by Kikka herself as she carried the tree on her right shoulder and secured by both hands. Subsequently snapping the log in half via the wedge from before, Kikka took the pair of 8ft long tree logs and jointed then together using the roots to create the central framework of her roof - her two outer frameworks of the roof were already done via the logs from the first tree.

A central wooden column stood out from the centre of the hut, which supported the central framework of the roof built by Kikka moments ago. The entryway into the complete hut was going to be possible via an initially open doorway through the side of the roof - specifically a sliding door for the sake of compactness. Because the hut has a depth of 3ft, Kikka built a ‘sunken-walkway’ in order to provide entry and space for her soon to become a sliding door made from wood.

For now, by collecting pine branches and their leaves, Kikka assembled the roof together before she eventually diverted her attention to sealing up the sides of the roof. If there was water nearby, she could turn the dirt into mud and then use that mud to seal up the sides; however, Kikka had plenty of wood lying around. Subsequently, Kikka proceeded to use the remaining wood available to close up the sides of her roof, except for the remaining half of the right side, since she still needed a doorway to enter her hut.

So she wandered off not too far into the forest to find more wood...

by **Achidyemay** » Sun Jan 28, 2018 12:45 pm

39.3.19
The City on the Water

Everett marveled at the wooden structure. Sailing along the coast, he had known they must be close as the jungle was replaced by fields. He had not expected the farms to give way to villages of their own, nor the two large, dare-he-say cities that flanked the bay, attached to the Floating City by ropes and ferries. The whole building looked unstable, and as they drew nearer Everett could make out sections marked by burns from past fires. Nevertheless, the whole place was surrounded by a forest of masts and shook visibly with the motion of people. It had grown visibly in the decade or more that Everett had not been there. Concrete supports had replaced the wooden pylons in places and even now, large wooden cranes were visible, only some of which appeared to be involved in construction.

It had changed so much, and yet he was happier seeing it than he had been in months. He was back in civilization, there would be no more negotiating with tribal leaders and councils, no more designing fields nor manipulating trade deals. He could finally sit back and let the watch that he had built tick along in prosperity. And there was no better place to do that than the floating city, the beating heart of South Eastern Asian trade. Their approach from the west gave a good view of the riverboats transferring goods from upstream and the largest of the cargo ships hauling direct line from Borneo or Vietnam. When they were within range, the captain ordered the ship's sails down and Everett went below deck to meet with the cartographer, an older woman who was from western Thailand and had been to the City on the Bay much more recently than Everett. She filled him in on all that had changed and where he should go to find Huệ. They landed at a dock Everett didn't recognize surrounded by depots that were entirely new. Armed with the cartographer's instructions, however, he was able to navigate himself through the crowds, over the stairs, around the countless other buildings and all the way to the Head Quarters of the Thalossacracy, a tall building that seemed to drape itself over its neighbors. In a message to Huệ years ago that he was reminded of now, Everett had suggested keeping a farm in the building after a logistical issue had led to a hunger issue within the city. Now Everett was looking at the very real fruit trees and bushes hanging from the building with a smile playing around his face.

There were guards outside the doors, resplendent in the full colors of the business they represented. Everett walked past them without issue. Visually, Everett's appearance could probably get him anywhere he wanted to go, red hair and white skin was a sign of aristocratic power these days. Which Everett had come to realize after the sale of makeups and hair dyes started, and had come full circle when he noticed a look alike of himself at a brothel in Long Lang. That had been fun. Now as Everett entered the dimly lit building from the bright day outside, and the smell of incense replaced the generally unpleasant smell of people, he was greeted for the first time. His arrival had been expected for short cycles now and the regional bosses from nearby had come where they could. Some wanted to talk themselves up and others were having some sort of trouble, but for the time being all were content to meet the mysterious man who spent all his time making trade networks. Everett was courteous to all of them, trying hard to remember their names and positions.

After the initial hubbub had died down, he was led by a secretary to the third floor, where he was told his wife worked. Her office was large and contained the smaller offices of her undersecretaries. She was having lunch as Everett entered, but was still busy delegating. Apparently an incense shipment was having a hard time finding its way into the Floating City and from there would need distribution to the farms to the North. It was a problem, but evidently a problem that could wait as the silver-haired women got up from her desk to embrace the seafaring explorer. Their family had been cast across the sea like coconuts in a storm, so family always had precedence when they came together. They immediately fell into intense discussion as the couple caught up on the thirteen years they had spent apart.

38.1.4
Port Nan

Kim Trai would receive her first ship today. And with it she would acquire the wealth that she was named after. At least that was the plan. The firstborn of her father, a coastal merchant before the arrival of the Thalossacracy and one of many that realized the benefits of working for them, Kim had grown up with a first rate education. A rarity considering how far North they lived. She was fluent in many proto-sino-Vietnamese dialects as well as Masi and knew of all the trade routes within the Thalossacracy. She had always been a studious learner and realized the gestalts of the network Everett had created. Which is why, when she received her ship today, she would not sail northward as intended to trade for tea, incense, metal ores, and other raw materials produced by those further inland, rather she would sail northward towards Hainan, travelling Northeast is search of something new. She would prove that anyone could expand trade networks, it wouldn't take the spirit boy's help.

She had proposed the concept of finding another city like Long Lang, a place with untold technologies and wealth, to her father years ago, but he would not have it. Their responsibilities were to the South, and all that was to the North were tribesmen and farmers looking for a bargain on chairs. Kim's faith that there were large civilizations that would benefit from the Thalossacracy as a partner was not diminished, however, and she had fought bitterly, begging her father to sail North in search of new resources to trade. The argument was short-lived, however, Kim knew her father, and knew he was stubborn. Years of being on the right side of arguments had developed in him an ego, and she had never bested it. So she let the idea die in his mind. Trade was less regulated in the North, she had more freedom and less competition, it wouldn't matter what he wanted her to do. She could be fired for this, she realized, but if her gambit paid off, she would likely be promoted beyond even her father.

There was a lot of question marks in her future, and this made her anxious as she paced around their house. The wooden building was the largest in Port Nan and doubled as a trade depot. The stilted section in which she had grown up had a large porch with a commanding view of the pier and the two ships under her father's command. From there she noticed the triangle sails of her ship enter the bay and her pacing grew quicker. When her mother came to retrieve her, she composed herself quickly. There was laughter coming from the office room which stopped as she entered. She noticed her father, his boss, and a man she didn't recognize but knew was the Secretary to the Vice Boss of the Long Lang Trade Network. She bowed deeply out of respect for these men, before taking a seat across the Secretary.

"Well, gentleman, we all know you didn't come here for the food." Her father said lightly, "I'm proud of my daughter and how she has advanced in her studies. She has recently completed several of our sales the past few short cycles and I believe it is time for her to receive employment as a captain."
"Absolutely," the Secretary agreed, "It's been a keen importance of us to expand the trading in this region in particular, the Riau Network has taken a lot of the attention recently, but there is definitely the resources to grow in our Network."
The Secretary turns to look directly at Kim. "If you northerners can continue to be as profitable as you have been, then I'm more than happy to facilitate this. This is the contract for the ship." He says, sliding a large document across the table to Kim. She scanned it quickly, recognizing it as the secretary began to explain what it was. It was a standard employment contract as a captain of the ship Anh.
"You father has already made the first down-payment on the ship, but you will need to continue to fulfill sales in order to keep the boat. Do you understand?"
The Secretary gave Kim an encouraging smile, while his eyes remained questioning.
Kim replied with a smile, "I understand, I'm sure I'll be able to bring prosperity to our great company."
The Secretary's eyes crinkled under a smile, "It's settled then, your past record proceeds you Madam Kim, just sign here for the ship, and then I believe your father has a sale lined up for you your first time out." He said the last part with a wink, as if it were a secret and not a fairly standard practice. She signed the line and the Secretary and her father did as well. Then it was notarized and sealed and placed delicately in a bamboo tube next to the Secretary.
"Here is a copy of your contract, keep it somewhere safe." The Secretary remarked, producing a sheef of paper outlining how many rules exactly she intended to break.
"I will." Kim said.
"And stay safe and make us proud." The Secretary added.
"I will." Kim said.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Sun Jan 28, 2018 9:16 pm

Lagoon Company Outpost, Kentucky
April 14th

A brief quirk of the Herald's eyebrows betrayed his surprise, though his expression remained otherwise impassive, and the young warrior from Virginia nodded and smiled lightly. Common rolled from his tongue as does one's near-birthspeech; Xavier had not been raised from the cradle to speak the tongue, but long practice for the better part of six years had turned it into something as much a part of the warrior as his own flesh and blood. "Translator. Administrator. You may inform your master that our march was uneventful, upon its face. The roads were well enough, for the spring campaign season, and the Company's representatives near the foothills of the Appalachians were most helpful in terms of resupplying my master's stores as they had need. He thanks your master's master, the Brightlord, for his attention to these details."

Xavier looked north, toward the shores of the Ohio, where some masts were visible. His expression mused for a moment, before he turned back to the Translator and continued.

"Lord-Commander Hather was informed that you have gathered ships, ships with room to transport many soldiers west at speed. It is his wish that a mounted company of the Thirteenth, the Hessian Dragoons, take ship with you for Central Command East- that is your nearest military distribution point, no? From there they may be able to gather information vital to his upcoming campaign, and aid your forces in containing the incursions from Ego and the Lake King which we have been made aware of. Commander Julian's troops are bloodthirsty enough for any five hundred men, you may be assured."

Behind the Herald the rest of the Great Company grew closer, and the rumble of drums sounded loud in a practiced tattoo for several seconds, then the formation halted in a rippling wave. Some men in light gray suits and surcoats fell out of the lines of the serried ranks of glistening steel and black and white, marching back towards the rear of the column at a quick step which belied their less-than-burly dispositon as compared to some of their countrymen. The Herald nodded toward them, gazing at the Administrator once he turned back.

"The engineers of the Thirteenth are prepared to throw a bridge across the river, as my Lord has commanded. The siege engines we bear with us would be irreplaceable if lost in transit, and it is the Lord-Commander's intent to use them to reduce the fortress of Seastheim upon the border with the Lake King before he will wheel the campaign west to assault the men of Ego massing around Chicago. To this end, he fears he must decline your offer of riverborne transport for his host- the Hessians will be most pleased to make use of your galleys, however."

There, it seemed, the Herald's instructions from Adrian ended. He smiled lightly, personally, and gestured broadly towards the outpost.

"As for yourselves, have you defenses enough against any incursions from the north and east? Supply trains and more soldiers will be coming from the east ere long, and we would hate to leave you to the wolves, for your own sakes, and purely for the practicality of logistics."

by **Damverland** » Mon Jan 29, 2018 1:26 am

David Martin

The tribe had been gathered upon the great hill, overlooking the surrounding lands of the Hong Kong peninsula. The same hill that David had awoken upon. David chose it intentionally. Men, women and children of the tribes of Tui and Doyoi were all present. There were many of them, possibly three hundred there. At the top was David and Elder Xu, who the latter held a clay jug in his hands, filled near to the top with water. David stood above them all, with his bronze sword strapped to his waist. He looked upon his people, the ones that he would rule now. He turned and nodded for the elder to proceed.

"People of the Doyoi, people of the Tui, the elder spoke. "You look upon your leader, your master. He is the unifier, the giant slayer. With only a meager stone did he strike down the greatest of men. This man will rule in the tribes's name. Forever more until the last beat of his heart will he guide us to the victorious light. This is David Martin. Grand is he!"

The elder rose the jug above David's head, and turned it over. He closed his eyes. The crisp cold of the water felt good in the summer sun. He opened them again and dried his face. Then he stepped forward, looking at the great crowd of people; warriors and farmers, builders and scouts. Old men and young men. Many children stood next to their mothers and fathers. All looked to him. David stepped forward.

"With my newfound power and authority, I declare that the tribes of the Tui and the Doyoi be unified into a single great nation. I name it Martinia, supreme tribe of all others, and dominion of the gods. I declare its people the Mariju. With my authority, we shall dominate the lands of the world and beyond."

One and a half weeks later

The move had begun, and now the people began to establish the settlement there, in the ruins of the old Guzen village by the river. Only half of the initial population of Tui and Doyoi came along initially, and the rest would arrive later on once the basic foundations of the settlement were established. Some of the settlers had torn down parts of the huts in the old village down and brought them here to reassemble. The others simply gathered the local resources and began building from there. It was a good place to farm rice, as the soils around the river were fertile. The river was teeming with various sorts of fish. David planned for this new settlement to be the official capital of his future empire. If it would ever exist, that is. The mouth of the Pearl River was a perfect spot for it; easy access to the South China Sea for his future ships, and fertile enough to grow numerous sorts of crops. It was green, lush, and beautiful. He would dominate the world from here. He would name it Nohryos, though in the language of the Tui and Doyoi it was to be Gujzu.

In the center of the settlement a large longhouse was to be built as both a meeting place and as the home of David. He was to oversee it himself. While he hadn't known how to build any sort of structure at all when he came to the tribes, over the months he slowly learned. While he was still a novice in his own mind, he was much better at directing the construction. It was to be substantially larger, at least in the Marijui's minds. Its size was to accommodate the many people of Martinia, and even then it was likely to be temporary.

On behalf of the military, David began to organize a more complex and structured group of fighters. He had warriors organized into units. The smallest unit would be called a nui - three basic warriors, one slinger and one archer. The warriors would wield bronze spears along with a shield, while the slinger and archer would use the obvious. The nui units would belong to one of three war groups - the defendants, the raiders and the warbands. Defendants would defend Martinia, raiders would attack enemies for their loot and slaves, and warbands were the main professional force dedicated to conquest and battle. It was quite a simple system that would inevitably evolve as Martinia grew, but for now it worked well enough. David ordered several kilns to be built in Nohryos, as he hoped they would be adequate structures to smelt copper. David wanted a strong military, a tough warrior culture to brave the hostilities and dangers of the world. For they were many.

David assessed the local tribes of the area. Of the ones nearby, there were eight in the west, eleven northwards, and six in the east. David directed his focus to the west and north, hoping to expand in those directions. Two tribes of the west, Kun and Zulao had grown hostile towards Martinia, while three in the north - the Guj, Kuzun and Ingi had hoped David would protect them from other threats, judging by what their own speakers had said. David had defendant nui protect Nohryos with their lives as he feared raids on the infant town. In regards to the northern tribes, he had delegates sent to offer them protection in exchange for tribute and military support if Martinia ever need it. The Guj and Ingi quickly accepted. The Kuzun, although more reluctant of this offer, also accepted. David hoped to integrate these tribes into his kingdom later on. As for the Kun and Zulao, he would send offers of peace, but if they refused and continued to threaten Martinia, there would be nothing waiting for them but shackles and the crack of a bamboo whip.

David slowly laid the foundations of a kingdom.

by **The Olog-Hai** » Mon Jan 29, 2018 7:36 am

Abraham Meyer,
Franklin, New Jersey
January 2900 BCE

15 years since the Imperium of Man had arrived on the shores of the Delaware and sent emissaries that Abraham had met with. It had been a profitable 15 years, and gave him a solid excuse to understand the language of the Imperium, as the news from Ego proved that being known as an Outworlder, with knowledge from another time, could be disastrous. Or what was left from Ego, after a warlord carved his way through it. The trade agreement with the Imperium had yielded more iron than Abraham could ever have hoped of acquiring in such a short amount of time, and a good portion of it was taxed by Franklin, going towards building and his experiments, carefully hidden from the creeping eye of the Imperium, as they were very obviously Outworlder technology.

Speaking of the Imperium, they were becoming a growing concern. As Abraham put on in years, in fact being in his mid 50s by his reckoning, it would be harder and harder to hide the glaring fact of the day, his immortality. Obviously knowledge of the future would be a serious threat to the well-being of the Imperium, but there wasn't much left that Abraham could do to escape their grasp, and besides, he was more concerned for the people of Franklin than anything else. For now, he would probably be safe, but given time, it's get riskier and riskier. But back to the business at hand.

Abraham was sitting at a crude drafting table he had made, for this exact purpose. He was drawing up plans for expansions to Franklin, and the construction of two new cities - New York, and an as-of-yet unnamed one, probably going to be named Philadelphia or Pittsburgh, as those were the two large cities in Pennsylvania that Abraham would remember. New York was to be a center of trade in the Americas, as it was in his time, a burgeoning port city, for trade with the Imperium and any nations that were not yet under its large heel. For now, Franklin remained a free nation, through its mutually beneficial relations. For now. The Pennsylvania city was to be focused on coal mining, potentially iron mining, and industry. For now, it was a pipe dream, until Abraham could get a reliable means of producing even low-grade steel, and lay reliable rails, for a much faster means of transportation, as the journey could take weeks, sometimes, and he didn't need that much coal, yet.

Abraham tapped his foot as he worked, being unable to fully concentrate. There were a few large issues at the forefront of his mind, and they were distracting him from his work at hand. The turmoil in Ego was a serious concern, but just as large was his need to "die," which is to say fake his death to go under the radar, likely handing off the leadership of the tribe to Adams and Washington, advised by him in secret, obviously, but they, too, were growing old, and would likely need to take on apprentices of their own soon. He'd inform them of this soon enough.

Abraham slammed down the plans in disgust and stood up. The troubles in Ego were growing by the day, and rumor had it that one of the factions was supported by the ever-growing Imperium, perhaps even beholden to it, only time would tell. Given that Franklin was, in the past, affiliated with Ego, in a way, it's possible this "Blue Lagoon" might come for Franklin next, and though Franklin had trading relations with the Imperium, history had shown that big nations didn't care who the supplier of the resources was, so long as the goods kept flowing, and though the Blue Lagoon might renegotiate the terms of the agreement, they were also good friends of the Imperium. So, it was up to Franklin to defend itself, but Abraham was not proficient in weaponmaking, as it had not been necessary in any large quantities in the past. Oh well, now is better than never.

Abraham threw open the doors to the next room, where Adams and Washington were talking as they worked on a few things, including using steam power for extraction of ores, as well as some basic water wheels, as Abraham's goal was to make devices similar to what the Industrial Revolution was powered by, and had drawn up basic plans for Adams and Washington to craft and test.

"Listen up, we've got a new order of business," he announced. "As we have been kept appraised by word from the region, Ego is still in a sort of turmoil. It's time Franklin took up arms."

"Abraham?" Adams replied. "There are a lot of them, and not many of us. Do you really expect to be able to attack and defeat them?"

"When did I say attack? You're right that we don't have enough for an attack. But defense always requires less people, when set up correctly. We'll obviously need weapons and armor, as well as a few others things. You two handle the weapons and armor, you're good smiths, and I'm sure you can find others among the people who are competent. Grab a bunch of the young ones, too, see which of them are competent around a forge."

"Ah," Washington said, thoughtfully. "So, you've realized that we're finally growing old unlike you, and that eventually we will be no more."

"Sadly, my friends, that is indeed the case. Another issue on that train of thought, however, is the fact that I don't age. Eventually, using dried and ground grains to whiten my hair won't be sufficient. In a few years, we may need to fake my death. But we shall shelve that discussion for another day. You two, attend to those things. I'll go deal with... other things."

"Such as?" prompted Adams.

"I'm going to see if we can get some of those horses from the Imperium. Where I come from, horses prove essential in warfare. And even as work animals, they are the be all and the end all for medieval times. If trade with the Imperium doesn't pan out, I'll try to get some aid from Ego, or what's left of it. Even so, I may do that. Only problem is are the successor states, I may have to travel through hostile territory. If I don't make it back... you know what to do."

Abraham left them with that, grabbing a pre-prepared pack for long journeys, including food to last a while, and methods for acquiring more food. The first leg of it won't be hard, some time to the mine to get in touch with the Imperium and higher ups. But after that... the journey to Ego could be quite long. If he could secure horses from the Imperium it would be shorter. But Abraham was prepared to spend several months on this endeavour. Franklin could go on.

by **Kraicia** » Mon Jan 29, 2018 8:16 am

Kamchatka River
Day One

Walking west was momentarily monotonous for Kikka if not for the fact that she found something else other than another narrow tree. Upon emerging through the foliage, Kikka spotted the one critical necessity of survival. There upon the river bank that she was standing upon, there was a river that flowed at a shallow depth; however, aside from the beauty of the mysterious taiga that Kikka found herself in, it was in a few moments that Kikka made one eerie realization...

"Tämä ei ole yksi niistä jokien tiedän. (This is not one of the rivers I know.)" Kikka muttered, her voice shallow yet retaining a steady calmness despite the disturbing realization, "Joo, en enää ole kotona makea Suomi. (Yeah, I'm no longer in home sweet Finland.)"

If god was watching over Kikka as she made this realization, god could only facepalm in utter disappointment in Kikka's delayed realization. One might think that Kikka - a Finnish female in mind - was utterly dumb; however, that would just be nothing more than an insult, not when one was making such a remark to someone who has gotten lost before in the woods. In fact, the taiga was merely like a duplicate home to Kikka - the environment and climate was all very much identical or similar to the Finnish taiga.

Nevertheless, this didn't stop Kikka from walking into the river and briefly washing herself of all the dirt and foliage that she got upon herself from the hours long construction of her makeshift taiga hut. The sun was now high up in the sky, which gave two indications to the Finnish outdoorswoman - it was high noon and it was getting reasonably warm for as long as noon remained. The water may have been slightly chilly; however, Kikka cared less, since all the dirt and pine leaves from earlier were all but a minor irritant to her bare skin.

Though before she could begin to return to her hut, there was the sound of rustling nearby that caused Kikka to perk her attention not to the river bank she arrived from, but rather the other riverbank on the other side. Luckily, instead of a bear coming out to terrify Kikka away from the river, a lone caribou nonchalantly wandered out from the foliage; however, it was oblivious to the human that was sitting on the other side of the river. Judging from its size and shape, Kikka can tell that this caribou was fairly young; however, being separated from the pack made Kikka worried.

As a hunter, Kikka knows very well that caribou don't just simply wander off alone unless they are either lost or banished from the pack. From the caribou's lack of any clear injuries, the caribou didn't lose a bout against another male; however, because it was not being followed by other caribou, Kikka can only conclude one thing. This caribou in mind had been alone for some time in its life ... or at least ... that's what Kikka thought for a moment...

A figured slowly followed behind the caribou, whom was clothed - according to Kikka's knowledge - with a parka, pants, and boots made from bear and deer hide. Judging from the size and shape of the clothed person, the figure in mind was a female - an adult female a little older than Kikka herself. Retaining black hair as opposed to Kikka's very light brown hair, the clothed woman approaching the caribou was some sort of herder if Kikka's presumptions were correct - which meant there had to be civilization nearby.

Though before Kikka could get the female herder's attention, the woman saw Kikka in the river and initially responded by pointing her stone spear at Kikka. Seeing an extremely light brown haired foreign female sitting in a river without any clothing was a reasonably strange sight that a caribou herder would stumble upon while bring back one of their own caribous back home. So it was only out of instinct that the female herder retained some tense silence before sternly questioning Kikka's presence, "Who are you?"

Kikka - a native Finnish speaker and not an English speaker - remained silent like the usual deer in the headlights; however, while Kikka had the answer to reply back to the female herder in mind, the words that subsequently escaped Kikka's lips were not that of her familiar Finnish language: "It's okay. I came down here just to wash myself down. I believe you're here for that...porot (reindeer)?"

Those three pieces of dialogue were nothing like Kikka's native language, nor had she ever learned how to speak in such a foreign language that the herder was speaking. Though quite reasonably, the female herder eased her stance and took a moment to finally see that Kikka was only minding her own business; however, easiness was immediately placed with curiosity and confusion. This was not because Kikka was not only completely nude in the river water, but by what Kikka last said.

"Porot?"

Kikka nodded before giving the female herder the description, followed by a lie to lessen the suspicion of Kikka's mysterious appearance in the new world, "That creature before you. My people, or what used to my tribe, called those animals, porot."

"Ah yes..." The herder casually and humbly awed in realization, "I came to bring this one back to the herd. He had seemed to stray afar from his kin eight nights ago."

"Oh... but, you've been tracking this one porot for eight nights?"

"Yes."

"Than I admire your determination."

"Determination?"

"Um... your will to try."

"Oh... thanks." The female herder humbly complied as she let the caribou finished drinking from the river and then began to herd it back, "But, I did not come here alone."

"You were never alone?"

"No. My family and their 'porots' are not far from here." The herder said as she pointed in the opposite direction where she came from, "They set up camp in an opening not far from this river. We have been hunting day and night to get this one porot back, which is why I'm here now."

"Ah, okay. That explains everything." Kikka humbly awed to herself in realization.

"You know it isn't safe to bathe without warm clothes, uh..."

"Call me Kikka."

"Hmm. Okay, stay here. I'll be back." The female herder nodded back, though before she was about to leave with the caribou/reindeer, the herder introduced herself, "Oh, my name is Anapel."

Kikka initially nodded back at the female herder, now named Anapel, though that was before asking one more question as she remained sitting in the river, "Where are you going?"

"To get you some clothing." Anapel said as she and the caribou disappeared behind the taiga foliage once more...

by **Skarten** » Mon Jan 29, 2018 11:47 am

Long live the Shogun
Chapter 1:Prologue

It was winter in japan.In the center,civil war raged as many factions fought for power.Homewever,in the north,relative peace happened,as, in the shadows,tensions grow.
Since its creation,the Kōshitsu was a confederation-there was no recognized ruler.But the members knew, that the de facto leader was Yaroshima Morikazu,the chief of a major city located on modern-day Akita.
Many followed this chief, who had introduced Copper,Bronze and several other items into their civilization, and the one who created the Confederation.Homewever,many others disliked him, sensing him as a threat to their independence and power.
This was,in a way, the truth. The Author seeked to become the ruler of this state,to centralize his power,to expand, and to create a mighty empire.
And so, he seeked allies,people who would support him in his rise to power, through various methods,such as promissing titles,Shiny stuff (Who doesn't like da shiny stuff) and etc,etc.

by **Pasong Tirad** » Mon Jan 29, 2018 12:37 pm

Earotrefís

Spring was here. It was a year for a good harvest. Many olive trees were starting to fruit, which meant that the olive fields in Athínai will be expanding. More oil for the stoves, more fruits for the caravans, and - most importantly - more seeds for planting. The seeds are going to be sold by the farmers themselves to Athínai. The city-state will then auction off nine out of every ten of those seeds to the highest bidders in the agorá, and every tenth seed will be locked away in the treasure vaults of the Akrópolis - security, in case the fields of Athínai burn. This initiative was championed by Arsenios himself as a way to give the farmer a share of the city-state's wealth.

The days were getting warmer and longer. The men were taking out their crossbows to hunt or to train with, as per the law, and to pass on their skills to their sons. Nothing new there, except they were using their crossbows more than average, taking advantage of the cool spring weather. Many of the traders were already filling up their ships - from tiny sailboats to the small fifty-oared galleys to the gigantic triremes - and already bidding their families goodbye at the docks at Peraiós. The shortest voyages were several days - to Sympagis, and the southwestern Peloponesse - and the longest was two to three weeks - to Crete and Byzantium. The inability of the galleys to go more than two days or so out at sea meant that the trading fleets had to keep island hopping in order to restock on food and water, extending a journey that should only take a week into two. Arsenios was assured, however, that the Peraíoi shipbuilders were experimenting to figure out a way to extend the length of time galleys could spend out in the open sea. The coming conflict calls for it.

Arsenios, in a sudden lack of power over the Boulē, was unable to stop the councillors from voting to go to war with Thorikó. Officially, it's to expand the League to include all the Attikoi. In reality, it's over the mines at Lávrion. Arsenios, however, was able to delay the actual declaration of war and mobilization of the citizens to after the next winter. They have one year to prepare. So, this summer, they will be spending time trying to woo the Thorikói into joining the League in order to avoid a costly battle. The requirements for membership (for Thorikó, at least) are: 1) an oath of allegiance to Athina and the League, 2) that their first twelve councillors for the Boulē come from the elites of society (which the League can use as hostages, should the need arise - as they've done before with the Dekélaíoi), and 3) everything extracted at the Lávrion mines will be split evenly between the city-states of the League. Athínai and Peraiós will be counted as one city-state because of their union, which means that everyone will get twenty percent of the pie.

This was why the Peraíoi shipbuilders were working to create more room for food and water in the fleets. In the event that Thorikó rejects these overtures - and Arsenios is almost certain that they will (the Thorikói have beaten back the League before) - then their plan consists of a siege on both sides of the city-state. Peraiós, Salamís, and Elefsís will use their fleets to blockade Thorikó from the sea (as well as transport men and supplies), while Athínai and Dekéleia march their armies through land to attack their walls.

The Boulē was going to meet again in a week, and this time they were going to be bringing with them census data of their cities, and an inventory of their warehouses. Specifically, the number of men they have that are fit to go to war, and what those men can be provided with on the field. The Attikoi were on the warpath. Several dozen triremes and close to a thousand men can fall upon Thorikó should the Boulē command it - Arsenios is still archon, however, and he was able to delay this campaign. For a year, at least. The gears of war are still turning, but they're turning slower.

by **Yatzatz** » Tue Jan 30, 2018 4:52 am

I sat in my council room. I had put together a council of the smartest and most loyal men in the town for advice purposes. Voni was there, as was Darvi. Several others from my top generals were there as well. In addition, the man I had appointed to be in charge of the school and several teachers were there. There were quite a few of the most devout Yamatzon there, for no reason other than that I could trust them fully. I was presenting the plan for Operation Behead to them. My generals sat, listening. They knew the plan; I had come up with it with their help. The others, however, were hearing of it for the first time. I was presenting it to them to see if any would have advice for the non-military aspects. I watched, as faces around the table digested the immensity of this plan. I finished and waited for advice.
None came.
After a minute, Voni stood up. "Is the plan good enough?"
There was a flurry of nodding.
"Alright," I said "Thank you."
As people began to flood out of the room, I called over a messenger, and told him to go tell Hopan, the man in charge of the messengers, to bring the message to the Politburo.
He left, and I leaned back. Operation Behead had already been planned for for a year and a half, and the plan was ready. When the messengers came back, if the answer was affirmative, Operation Behead would begin.
It would take one month for him to return. I would have to wait.

by **The Orson Empire** » Tue Jan 30, 2018 5:43 pm

G-Tech Corporation wrote:Lagoon Company Outpost, Kentucky
April 14th

A brief quirk of the Herald's eyebrows betrayed his surprise, though his expression remained otherwise impassive, and the young warrior from Virginia nodded and smiled lightly. Common rolled from his tongue as does one's near-birthspeech; Xavier had not been raised from the cradle to speak the tongue, but long practice for the better part of six years had turned it into something as much a part of the warrior as his own flesh and blood. "Translator. Administrator. You may inform your master that our march was uneventful, upon its face. The roads were well enough, for the spring campaign season, and the Company's representatives near the foothills of the Appalachians were most helpful in terms of resupplying my master's stores as they had need. He thanks your master's master, the Brightlord, for his attention to these details."

Xavier looked north, toward the shores of the Ohio, where some masts were visible. His expression mused for a moment, before he turned back to the Translator and continued.

"Lord-Commander Hather was informed that you have gathered ships, ships with room to transport many soldiers west at speed. It is his wish that a mounted company of the Thirteenth, the Hessian Dragoons, take ship with you for Central Command East- that is your nearest military distribution point, no? From there they may be able to gather information vital to his upcoming campaign, and aid your forces in containing the incursions from Ego and the Lake King which we have been made aware of. Commander Julian's troops are bloodthirsty enough for any five hundred men, you may be assured."

Behind the Herald the rest of the Great Company grew closer, and the rumble of drums sounded loud in a practiced tattoo for several seconds, then the formation halted in a rippling wave. Some men in light gray suits and surcoats fell out of the lines of the serried ranks of glistening steel and black and white, marching back towards the rear of the column at a quick step which belied their less-than-burly dispositon as compared to some of their countrymen. The Herald nodded toward them, gazing at the Administrator once he turned back.

"The engineers of the Thirteenth are prepared to throw a bridge across the river, as my Lord has commanded. The siege engines we bear with us would be irreplaceable if lost in transit, and it is the Lord-Commander's intent to use them to reduce the fortress of Seastheim upon the border with the Lake King before he will wheel the campaign west to assault the men of Ego massing around Chicago. To this end, he fears he must decline your offer of riverborne transport for his host- the Hessians will be most pleased to make use of your galleys, however."

There, it seemed, the Herald's instructions from Adrian ended. He smiled lightly, personally, and gestured broadly towards the outpost.

"As for yourselves, have you defenses enough against any incursions from the north and east? Supply trains and more soldiers will be coming from the east ere long, and we would hate to leave you to the wolves, for your own sakes, and purely for the practicality of logistics."

Outpost 0151, Ohio River, Kentucky

The administrator and the translator spoke quietly to each other for some time. While Naaga was relieve that he would not need to use so many ships for the crossing, he was also concerned about the construction of a pontoon bridge, which could cut off the Ohio River for far longer than the original plan. With the war picking up speed, the Lagoon Company and the military needed full access to the river in order to ship supplies and reinforcements throughout the region unhindered. Beyond even that, the administrator still had the merchants and his bosses in Tasunke that he had to please. If the profitability of the outpost was destroyed by his decisions, he would be sacked and forced to forfeit one of the highest paying jobs in all of North America.

Aranck turned back towards Herald Himyar. "We will do what we can against an invading force, but if we are hit particularly hard, the administrator would have to order an evacuation," the translator replied. "The military has begun raising thousands of levies in the region in order to help defend the towns and supply lines, seeing as the regulars have been called to serve up north in Wisconsin. According to our reports, the Lake King and his savages have already begun raids of company towns and outposts in Indiana, and of course, a major army is marching out of Chicago. Our priority here is simply to protect the civilians that live in this outpost and the villages surrounding it; many of them are valued company employees, and it would be devastating if we lost them all."

Aranck cleared his throat. "As for the pontoon bridge, the administrator finds this somewhat concerning. We cannot allow the river to be closed off for too long a period, or the entire economy of this region will be severely disrupted. With river transport also necessary for the war effort, the enemy could gain a major advantage if this is allowed to continue for too long."

Aranck paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "However, we would be more than willing to transport the Hessian Dragoons across the river so they may assist the war effort. From there they could follow the Wabash River and its tributaries to Indianapolis, where there is a large fortress and a large company outpost. Based on reports from our semaphore, thousands of regulars and levies are massing there to defend the region from Ego and the Lake King."

by **Kraicia** » Wed Jan 31, 2018 8:04 am

Kamchatka River
Day One

The female herder (Anapel) took a surprisingly long time to return to Kikka. Luckily, when she did return to the Finnish female, Anapel was carrying a coat, pants, and boots, which were all made from a variety of animal hides. The boots and pants were of deer hide, while the coat was of wolf hide - especially exemplified by the fact that the coat had a fur-lined hood minus the wolf head.

At last, Kiki’s found herself in the comfort of clothing; however, the clothing was not without some minor faults. The boots and pants were a snug fit, but the inner parts of the pants were slightly rough due to some edges that were cut a little too jagged. Plus, while the coat was comfortable, it was rather loose than usual - something that Kikka already noticed by the fact that the coat was meant for a man than a woman.

“If I may ask you, Kikka,...” Anapel inquired as she helped Kikka finish buttoning up the coat, “Do you belong to another tribe?”

"Um...Yes." Kikka nodded, now that she was standing on the other side of the river with Anapel.

"Hmm... I see..." The female Siberian reindeer herder said, though her voice was suddenly inquisitive as well as curious, "But where are they?"

Kikka hesitated for a moment just as Anapel fastened the last button on Kikka's coat. Despite Anapel's hospitality in the unknown taiga, there were some details that Kikka noticed as she interacted with Anapel. Most importantly, the language that Anapel was speaking seemed to be a distant language spoken somewhere in Siberia - which was why Kikka noticed a hint of slavic in Anapel's voice.

Though that was not the reason why Kikka hesitated. The real reason why Kikka hesitated was because she had to look for an answer other than telling Anapel the truth. Simply saying that she awoken in the middle of the forest without any memory was outlandish. Therefore, Kikka decided to break her hesitation with a more plausible story than the actual truth...

"They all drowned. Me and my tribe were sailing from the east to find a new home. Unfortunately, we've been hit by a storm and everyone drowned except for me. I got washed up a couple days ago with no clothes on back, so I been wandering around hoping I could find help. I barely survived last night without shivering..."

"Oh yes!" Anapel interrupted, though her curiosity had now became compassionate and filled with worry rather than suspicious, "Your lucky that the snow hasn't fallen. Even better, I'm surprise that you even woke up from the cold like that."

"It was cold last night."

"Yes it was, but be glad that this is not the winter yet."

"Oh I know." Kikka nodded before informing Anapel about the hut not far from the river, "In fact, I hastily put together a hut not far from here on the other side of the river, but that didn't keep me warm either."

"A hut, huh? How did you manage to build a hut so quickly?"

"Well, it's not really that big." Kikka replied, though that was not to say that she was only telling half of the truth, "I built it the day before, but rather hastily and unfinished if you haven't seen it."

“Hmm,...” Anapel pondered, before she gestured Kikka to follow her, “Come with me then. I can get you back on your feet.”

“Oh... that easily?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re going to trust a stranger like myself so easily?”

Anapel pauses for a moment before a light and gentle laughter escaped the female Siberian reindeer herder’s lips, “Don’t be silly, I believe your story. I know what you been through given by the weather and your condition. Now come with me, I must get back to my kin before they think I ran aloft.”

Kikka only nodded as she and Anapel walked into the taiga foliage and disappearing from sight on the Kamchatka river bank...

by **Kelmet** » Wed Jan 31, 2018 4:24 pm

January 10th, 100 AG
I smiled and spoke softly in english “Hello Edward, the chieftain here was just telling me all about how you were the one that convinced him to swear fealty to me. You have my thanks personally for that, and Norsca thanks you.” Switching to Norse “Anghus would you mind leaving us two alone for a bit?”

Anghus furrows his brow, but quickly returns to his diplomatic expression, “Very well,” he says cautiously as he got up, “Me and my wife be in the other room if you need us.”

“We’ll be alright,” Edward says softly as they leave the room unsure whether they heard him. He returns his focus on the immortal next to him in the room, “Very few know that language good lord. I assume you're from the other world?”

Pausing for a moment, suddenly realizing I have never thought what to call my life before.
“The other world, I have never thought of it like that before.” Taking a seat and gesturing to the seat across the table then pouring two cups of water. “ Please call me Monroe, or your highness if your feeling particularly noble. Do you prefer another name or title than Edward?”

Edward takes his seat and listens carefully. Nodding he says, “Many call me Ted. I prefer that name somewhat, but it's up to you really. I don't think I have any titles anymore, since I have retired from any jobs that would've granted titles.”

He thinks back to when he was a Captain of the Imperium. It brought back some memories like how one reminisces over the glory days. Regardless those years were long gone, and he knew that.

“Ted it is.” Monroe reaches down and brings the cup to his lips. “ I’m going to get straight to the point. I know you haven't been here forever but I am here to offer you a job. However if you are content in this retirement thing you have going on tell me now and I can promise you I won’t bother you again. Would you like to hear what I have to say?.”

Edward pauses to thinks. He had truly been content to his life, but he didn't like the fact he did so little as the days go by. Curious overtook him, and he responds betraying his previous thoughts of staying in the Eir village.

He quietly lifts his drink, “You have me intrigued. What's the job? Spent a good fifteen years as a carpenter, and past that a good thirty as a military officer,” said Edward as he sips his drink.

Setting my glass down and leaning forward unto the table. “You know as well as I do eventually the Imperium is going to have an emperor that wants to make Norsca an imperial province. It might not be this one or the next ten, but one day it will happen and having another immortal around can’t hurt. Especially one not from here originally. Speaking of witch if you do say yes, I have a lot of questions.”

“Aye, the Imperium thirsts for all lands, but it is not of my concern,” Edward said leaning forward in his chair, “While it may be none of my concern, I have a simple desire; while Scotland may be the home of my ancestors I still miss my real home. Perhaps we can make our concerns align?”

Edward never tried to bargain before, but if he wanted to get home he needed powerful allies. His faith at getting home was still bleak, but perhaps shared interest would help him and Monroe out.

“That all depends, where is home for you?” If he was anywhere from Europe I thought, then he would know what it’s like to lose your home to the empire. Maybe if he had something to lose he would make it his concern. On the other hand if that is true it could mean war with the imperium. Crossing swords with my old friend V, I get cold just thinking of it.

“I'm from America you see,” Edward said, but quickly adds, “Specifically northeast Texas, I have been missing my home for quite awhile. I don't need you to colonize it or anything. I just want the land. I think as long as you give your word to assist me to obtain the land under the name of Norsca or not whatever you prefer I'd be more than happy to stay a loyal ally or vassal to you.”

Raising my hand quickly in disbelief.” Wait you're from the US to? That's actually quit relieving, no one ever gets my references.” a light laugh escaped my solid demeanor. “ I can’t promise it will be soon, but if you come into my service you will have a good life and when the time comes Texas is yours. I promise.”

Thinking of a way to prevent a deal break Edward thought carefully of what to do. Coming to the conclusion that by offering a item of value to Monroe until the deal is complete would not only prevent him from breaking the deal, and ties with Monroe, but also curry trust.

“Perhaps some insurance would further cement our deal,” Edward offered, “Maybe my glasses or something that I value. Something to ensure my side will honor the deal. I would also expect the same from you, it is to easy to betray one another with this arrangement. If we both were to give up something until the conditions are met, than betrayal will less likely occur.”

“How about something a little more simple,” standing up and reaching out my hand “You help me unite the Norscan Isles, I help you get home. Deal?”

“If you want it simple than sure,” Edward said shaking his hand, “I'll need to catch up on the politics. My fifteen year apathetic carpenter life has made me quite unfamiliar with the current politics, even if I was a adviser.”

“Then I guess we had better get started. How long will it take you to pack?”

“Not long my lord,” Edward said, “All I need is my sword, my armor, clothes, and some provisions for the road. I don't exactly like to travel unarmed. Roads these days are dangerous with the various wars this isle gets. There are other things of value to me here for sure, but they should be fine leaving them behind for now.”

“No need to fear for your safety Ted, my complement of guards is more than enough to keep any attackers at a safe distance. And anything you need will be provided for you in Valkenheim.
I will be in the courtyard when you are ready to depart.”

After an hour or so Edward joined me and my royal escort and departed heading back to the capital. Inside the royal carriage I spent a great deal of the journey updating Ted on the current politics of the known world.

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